#hs fic recs

[harryslittlefreakk]

favourite crime 3

summary: harry disappears and leaves y/n in the dark. when he finally resurfaces, they struggle to heal hurt and broken hearts.

warnings: angst, brief mentions of cheating, fluff, age gap relationship, teacher/student relationship

wordcount: 5.2k

a/n: strap in its angsty!!!!! but we’re almost at the end of the back and forth now, i want my babies to be happy 😭

thank you so much for reading & supporting 🤍 masterlist | favourite crime masterlist

“You really haven’t seen him?”

You nibbled on your lower lip as you waited for Courtney to reply, rubbing two fingers over your temple.

“No, and Josh still hasn’t heard from him either. Last I knew, he was coming to find you,” Courtney murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“There’s rumours everywhere,” you told her. “He quit, he got fired. You don’t think someone found out and he had to leave?”

Courtney shook her head, leaning back in her seat. “He would’ve told you. Even if it was the last time you ever spoke, I think he would’ve told you.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. It had been over a week since you’d seen or heard from Harry. You’d checked with Courtney every day, hoping by some miracle that he’d gone home or spoken to Josh, but he hadn’t. He’d pushed you away in his office and then fallen off the face of the Earth.

You’d typed out and deleted texts almost every hour, rushing to check your messages and missed calls as soon as you woke up every morning. Your finger had hovered over Harry’s phone number, never hitting call.

You made sure to walk by his office everyday, hoping for some sign of life, but nothing ever came. Your mind was running wild. You couldn’t help but imagine him lying in a ditch somewhere, hurt and alone. Or on the run, dramatically changing his appearance to escape law enforcement after his relationship with you had been revealed. Or worse, he simply felt he had to disappear to save himself from you.

It wasn’t until you saw a flash of brunette curls disappearing into his door that your worry turned into white-hot rage.

Your heart rate quickened with your feet, your shaking hand fumbling with the doorknob as you barged in behind him.

The blood was pounding in your ears, every muscle in your body tense as he turned around and looked at you.

“What the fuck, Harry?”

Your voice was a whisper with all the anger of a shout, the words catching in your dry throat. Your hands balled into fists inside your sleeves as Harry looked over you, barely a speck of emotion on his face.

He was no different to the last time you saw him, his outfit one you’d seen before, each line and crease on his face no different than before. But the way he was looking at you was new. He was indifferent, arms resting at his sides as he waited for words that you couldn’t form. His eyes held nothing. You felt like a stranger to him, and you willed your feet to carry you away, back to the comfort of not knowing where he was but knowing who you were to him.

But as you turned away, he finally spoke. “How long does it take you to get home?”

“Thirty minutes,” you answered, tears resting on your eyelashes as you stared at your feet.

“Then I’ll see you in thirty minutes,” Harry replied, watching you leave his office as quickly as you burst in.

—

Harry sat in his car outside your house, his hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. His eyes were locked on the mirror, watching the corner of your street with a clenched jaw.

His anger simmered just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of frustration and betrayal. The minutes felt like hours as he replayed the last time he was here, stoking the fire of his anger. He was determined to hear the truth, even if it meant he would never see you again.

The second you turned the corner, his heart near stopped. You didn’t seem to notice him or his car as you approached, your eyes weary and heavy-lidded as you stared straight ahead.

Harry hadn’t paid much attention to you in his office, trying to ignore the pained furrow of your brows, the red tint of sleepless nights beneath your eyelashes, the way you looked almost exactly the same and yet so different to him. But as he looked at you then, dulled and burnt out even as the afternoon sun illuminated everything around you, his anger fell away and shame rolled through his body in a nauseating wave.

He was a grown man. With a job, a home, a life that shouldn’t involve someone in their early twenties, someone who’s education he was responsible for. You may have approached him first, but he barely thought twice before pursuing you, fisting his cock that night with only thoughts of you in his mind.

And worse than that, he’d run away. He’d backed you into a corner, fucking you, making you his, while making it clear to you that you’d never be more than a fun weekend. He’d kissed you, set up boundaries so weak that you had no choice but to push through them, making you believe that you were setting the pace and dictating what relationship you would or wouldn’t have. Then he’d backed off.

He deserved every inch of the hell he’d found himself in. Harry ran a hand through his hair, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else. He still wanted answers, but he found himself totally unfazed towards whatever the truth was. You had every right to want him to hurt.

At the sound of keys jangling in a door, he turned his head, watching you let yourself in. With a deep sigh, he followed, his legs wooden as he trudged towards the door you’d left ajar.

“Hi,” Harry murmured, slipping into your apartment behind you. He hadn’t seen it before, and it was absolutely no different than he’d expected. You had fresh flowers and house plants on almost every surface, lilies and roses in soft pinks and whites, posters and pictures dotted around the walls.

You turned to face him, dropping your bag on the kitchen counter. “Where have you been?” you asked him, your voice sharper than you intended.

You heard his breath hitch in the silence, the sound of his shoes banging as he pushed them off, his socks soft against the floor as he edged towards you. The air between you was thick, charged with everything unsaid, everything he’d been avoiding.

“I saw him,” Harry said quietly, an edge to his voice, a tightness that betrayed his restraint. “I came here.”

He’d paused a few paces away, his expression unreadable in the sunlight seeping through the window. But you could read the tension in the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Saw who?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep the hurt at bay. “You kissed me, Harry. And then you disappeared. You didn’t say a word, didn’t even let anyone know if you were okay.”

He exhaled harshly, running a hand through curls that looked like they’d been toyed with all day long. “I didn’t know what to say! What do you want me to say? I came here to apologise, but you were clearly already busy.”

“You came here after I left your office?” you questioned, your voice rising. “I was tutoring, Harry. I told you I was fucking tutoring.”

He leaned the wall, steadying himself as you knocked the wind out of him. In the entire week he’d been gone, racking his brains every day for some kind of innocent explanation, he hadn’t even remembered that.

He knew he was jealous, overly possessive, even over people he couldn’t claim, but this was a new low.

“I was tutoring Tommy, who’s in your fucking class and has a girlfriend. I needed to get my notes from my room. Which is where I’m assuming you saw us?” you paused for him to confirm, feeling rage wash over you like a tidal wave.

“He followed me into my room, and then we studied, Harry. At the dining table. On opposite sides.”

You ran a hand over your face, eyes screwed shut as you tried to make sense of it all.

“You don’t know how it looked,” Harry whispered, the colour drained from his face, his jaw clenched.

“You disappeared for a week. No communication, no word to even Josh. I was going out of my mind, Harry! There were rumours everywhere. You were hurt, you got fired, you got caught with a student - how do you think that felt? How that looked?”

His silence said more than his words ever could, and it made your blood boil. You took a step toward him, closing the distance between you, your heart pounding against your ribs.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, your voice starting to tremble. “You took me to the lake, you suggested the weekend away. You thought sleeping with me and then dropping me was the best plan. You kissed me, you pushed me away. And now you seriously think that I’d do this?”

When he still kept quiet, eyes flitting across your face, your anger reached boiling point. You were being mean, you knew that. You’d had just as much of a hand in anything that happened, but blaming Harry felt easier.

“Do you think I wanted any of this? You pull me close, like you want me, like you feel something, and then the second it gets too much, you push me away. Do you even know what that does to me?”

That struck a nerve. You could see it in the way his face twisted, his body recoiling slightly as if your words struck him deeper than you intended. He looked at you, and for a moment, there was something raw in his gaze.

Harry stepped closer, his body tense as if he was barely holding himself upright. He pushed his head back, inhaling a deep, deep breath before looking back at you. “You didn’t want any of that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry, and you know that. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want this. But I wanted more,” you explained, turning your back on him as you tried to keep a hold of yourself.

“It wasn’t meant to be like this,” Harry confessed, pinching the top of his nose. “I don’t know how it all got so complicated.”

“You pulled the strings, Harry. You made it this way,” you replied, letting your chin fall to your chest. Nothing made sense to you. It had been two weeks with Harry, and you’d barely even spent any time with him during those weeks. Yet you were practically falling apart, sagging under the weight of the heartbreak.

You turned back to face Harry, needing him to see the hurt he’d caused written over your face.

His eyes dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he looked as though he would say something - finally actually admit what he’d been feeling. But instead, he just shook his head, his voice barely a whisper when he spoke.

“I didn’t want it to be this way.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe that this had all just been some misunderstanding, that he wasn’t as scared of his own feelings as you thought. But you were exhausted. Tired of the back and forth, of the emotional whiplash that had been defining whatever it was the two of you had.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady. “What do we do now, Harry?”

He looked up at you then, and the way he was staring, it almost felt like a plea. Like he was hoping you’d have the answer, that you’d know how to fix the mess you’d both found yourself in.

But you didn’t. And if your heart hadn’t already shattered, it would have broken at the realisation that neither did he.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things. You stared at each other, neither of you knowing what to say, both of you too scared to admit how badly you needed each other.

It felt like you were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, each too wounded and too stubborn to reach across.

“I just want there to be a reality in which we can be happy.”

You turned back to face him, willing your heart not to shatter as Harry’s whisper cut through you. It was a thought you’d rejected countless times since seeing Harry in the bar that night. Happiness in a relationship, especially at the start, shouldn’t have been so hard to find and hold on to. But for some reason, there had been trouble at every turn.

You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes, the image of Harry in front of you blurring. Your hands trembled as you reached up to wipe your eye, the dam finally breaking.

Tears streamed down your face, unbidden and unstoppable. You had fought so hard to keep it together, convincing yourself that things would get better, that they could still fix what was clearly broken. But standing there in the silence in the wake of Harry’s words, you felt completely destroyed.

Harry looked away, his gaze falling to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes anymore. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked as if the fight had drained all the energy out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I hate this.”

You let his words hang in the air, unsure of anything you can say or do to make the situation better. “I need to change,” you told him eventually, padding past him towards your bedroom.

Harry watched you leave, your arms hanging limply by your sides, your steps light despite the darkness weighing on you.

He followed after a minute, holding up his fist to knock on the door, before it falls to his side. He picked it up again, reaching out for the doorknob with tentative fingers, before completely abandoning any attempt to get you to let him in. His heart broke with how badly he wanted to be there, to ease you out of the day’s clothes and help you into new ones, to wipe your tears with the soft knit of his jumper and to make it all better. But he didn’t know how to be in your space, how to comfort you when he was the very source of your tears.

When you eventually opened the door, you tried to walk straight past him, but he reached out to gently catch your arm. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and in that instant, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as your body trembled. He cradled you, his hand smoothing over your hair, the other placed firmly your back, and you stood there, enveloped in him, his scent and his touch filling the space around you, until your breathing slowed.

Once you were steady, no longer wrapped tightly around him as though he was the only thing keeping you up straight, he lead you to the sofa, his hand never leaving your lower back. You lay your head in his lap, staring straight out of the window at the setting sun.

Harry softly ran his fingers through your hair, his fingertips scratching at the roots in just the way he knew you loved. A soft smile tugged at his mouth, remembering how you’d fallen asleep in seconds after his hands found your hair. His eyes never left your face, trained on every detail as though he was worried this was the last time he’d ever see them. He watched the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked, noticing the faint furrow of your brows starting to smooth out after a while. The pink tint at the tip of your nose, the soft freckles dotted over your cheeks, the shine on your lower lip. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

After some time, you shifted onto your back, turning to face him. Reaching up with a gentle hand, you l pushed a stray curl from his forehead. "I’m so sorry, Harry. I never thought things would get like this,” you whispered, a single stray tear slipping down your cheek, coming to rest on the fabric of his slacks in a tiny damp spot.

"You don’t have anything to apologise for," he replied, his voice tender, laced with emotion.

He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you hungry? Do you want to shower?"

You nodded at that, feeling the weight of the past week clinging to you, suddenly desperate to wash it all away.

You sat up, your head pounding after so many tears and such twisting emotions, and dragged yourself to the bathroom.

You sat on the edge of the bath, staring at yourself in the mirror. You looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically drained in the wake of a week that had nearly broken you.

Harry followed you after a few minutes, watching from the doorway as you gathered your strength. He couldn’t bear the thought of a life without you, without the colours you’d brought into his world. He kneeled in front of you, gently taking your hand in his. His touch was soft, tentative, as if he was afraid he might break you further.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his gaze pleading for forgiveness, for the chance to make things right.

You nodded, too tired to protest, and that was all Harry needed. He tugged on your hands to make you stand, his hands soft and steady as he undressed you. There was a tenderness in the way he moved, a quiet determination to show you that he was still there, and that he wasn’t going to let go. Not then, not ever.

He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature, then adjusting the radiator so it would warm your towel as you showered. As he was about to walk away, you pulled on his arm, directing his attention back to you.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, thumbing the hem of his jumper, waiting for permission to strip him of his clothes. When he didn’t protest, you undressed him in the same way he’d done for you, then finally stepped under the water.

His fingers gently brushed your hair back, away from your face, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the water and Harry’s presence soothe you. He reached behind you, running your soap between his hands before gently massaging them over your skin.

His touch was featherlight, as if he was trying to wash away not just the exhaustion, but the hurt that had built up between you. He was careful, attentive, his actions filled with unspoken words of love and regret. As he moved, his lips brushed against your shoulder, a silent apology, a promise that he would do better. The intimacy of it made you weak, your body turning to jelly as he cared for you in a way you knew no other man was capable of.

“I don’t want you to ever think I was using you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. “You’re so much more than what you can give me.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, as he stepped a little closer to you. The warm water cascaded over both of you, its steady rhythm filling the quiet space between you and Harry. His eyes searching yours as the droplets slid down his face, his breath slightly ragged.

Your hand lifted slowly, fingers coming up to caress his cheek as you stared at each other through the steam, your fingertips lingering as if you were scared to let go.

“You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve told you that enough,” Harry murmured, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, your throat closing around any words you could come up with. “Harry,” you whispered eventually, your voice raw from all the emotions of the day. “At times like this, I can really picture a life with you,” you finished, shy as the words finally came out.

You weren’t even sure what the fate of your relationship was, whether you even had another shot at happiness with him. But you knew, as much as it pained you to realise it, that things had only gotten so fucked up because both you and Harry had felt so much more intensely for one another than you’d ever expected. It wasn’t just sex, or a weird fling. There was something real between the two of you, you were certain of that.

His fingers traced along your jawline, his eyes glistening as he took in what you’d said. And then, without hesitation, Harry leaned in, closing the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft, yet full of urgency. It wasn’t at all like the other times, it was deeper, filled with apology, with longing, with the need to prove that neither of you were willing to let go.

The water poured over your entwined bodies, but all you could feel was him. His kiss was tender at first, but as the seconds passed, it grew more passionate, more desperate, as if he was trying to pour everything he felt into that one moment. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his lips moved against yours, seeking not just forgiveness, but something solid to hold onto as you both tried to find your way back.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You kissed him back, matching his intensity, your fingers curling into his damp skin as if afraid that if you let go, you’d lose him all over again. The warmth of the water mixed with the heat of his body against yours, and finally anything outside of that moment faded away.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together, Harry’s chest was heaving, his eyes still closed as if he was trying to hold onto the feeling of your lips on his. His hands didn’t leave your face, and you could feel the slight tremble in them as he pulled you into his chest, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re everything. Everything,” Harry muttered, his voice muffled by your hair, one arm wrapping around your back, holding you tight to him.

He shut the water off after a while, letting you melt into him for as long as you needed to. The air in the bathroom was thick, warm steam curling in the corners of the room.

“Come here,” Harry murmured, holding your towel out for you, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, but then you moved closer, letting him gently wrap the towel around your body. His touch was careful, tender as he pulled the fabric tight around you, tucking it securely. His fingers lingered for a second longer, grazing your bare skin as they brushed over your arms. His eyes met yours, filled with that familiar warmth, but there was something else, something quieter. Maybe regret, maybe something unsaid.

“Go on, princess,” he whispered, his voice soothing, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be taking care of you. “I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

You nodded, offering an exhausted but grateful smile before heading toward the bedroom. The weight of the day had left your body heavy, but Harry’s presence, his care, made everything seem softer, lighter somehow.

Harry stood in front of the kettle, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he waited for the water to boil. The kitchen was quiet, except for the low hum of the kettle, but his mind was anything but.

He tried to focus on the task at hand - two cups of tea, something simple. Something he could control. But his thoughts kept drifting back, slipping through the cracks he was trying to seal up. The mistakes he'd made, the moments when he’d let you down, they all crowded his mind, a slow, sinking weight in his chest.

He thought about the hurt, the missed chances to say the right thing, the times he’d let his guard down only to retreat again out of fear. He’d always been good at getting in his own way, letting his own doubts cloud the way forward. It was no different now that he had been risking his career for you. He’d wanted so badly to protect you, to keep you close without smothering you, but somewhere along the way, he’d gotten lost in his own head. And now, standing in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil, those moments felt like stones in his chest.

You deserved better. He knew that. And he wasn’t always sure he could be that person for you. You needed someone who didn’t hurt you, who didn’t let their own insecurities and mistakes get in the way.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push the thoughts down, but they kept rising, unbidden. What if he wasn’t enough? What if he made another mistake, and it was one you couldn’t forgive?

The kettle clicked off, its billowing steam piercing through his thoughts, grounding him again. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. He was there, caring for you, showing you how badly he wanted to fix what he’d broken. He poured the water over the tea bags, watching the liquid swirl, darkening as it steeped.

As he waited, he thought about the look in your eyes when he wrapped the towel around you. The way you trusted him, the way you let him take care of you without question even after such a shit show of a day - a week - because of his immature insecurities.

Teas in hand, he took a deep breath, steadying himself before heading back to the bedroom. You were perched on the edge of the bed, the beginnings of a cloud of sleep hovering over you.

“Here you go,” he whispered, placing the mugs down before brushing a strand of hair from your face.

As soon as he straightened up, the towel wrapped precariously around his toned hips threatened to come loose. His hands flew to it, protecting his modesty with a sheepish grin.

A laugh bubbled out of you for the first time that day, shaking your shoulders softly as the giggles exploded out of you.

“I should have considered this scenario before getting into the shower with you,” Harry smirked, covering the soft blush of his cheeks with his free hand.

“I still have your t-shirt,” you offered, nudging your head towards your top drawer. “But I can’t help with pants.”

“Somehow a t-shirt with a loose cock feels worse than this,” Harry murmured, frowning as he glanced down at the tiny towel barely covering any of him.

You let your eyes linger on his body for a second, knowing that absolutely none of your clothes would fit his big frame. Your gaze dropped to your own t-shirt, thinking for a beat before pulling it back over your head and dropping it by your feet. “Solidarity,” you told him, not failing to notice how his breath caught at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t just run his hands over every part of your naked body.

Harry reached over you to grab your towel, turning away before pulling his own from his body, heading towards the bathroom with a little sway in his hips, as if he knew you’d be watching.

And you were. You leaned around the door frame, eyes locked on his tight ass until he was out of sight.

The weight in your chest lightened as you smiled, the domesticity healing a part of you that you didn’t know was broken.

-

You lay back against your pillows, cradling your mug in your hands. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the moon outside, casting soft shadows across the walls. It was quiet, save for the sound of gentle breathing, yet the silence between you and Harry felt heavy.

You shifted slightly, resting your head against Harry’s shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You had been here before, so close, so intimate, but it felt different. There was a weight in the air, a lingering sense of uncertainty. You were clearly over the worst, both hearts mending slowly and carefully, but it still felt too raw and too heavy to be fixed so fast.

"Do you think we still have a chance?" your voice was faint, your words timid as if you didn’t actually want an answer, but the question pierced through the stillness with raw vulnerability. You screwed your eyes shut, afraid of what Harry’s answer might be, but you knew that it needed to be heard. The uncertainty was what had been hanging over your heads, both of your minds drifting to that very question in every quiet moment.

Harry’s arms slipped around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. His gaze fixed on the ceiling, his jaw tightening as he thought. He had been hurt, and so had you. But the risks were far greater for him, and anything between you both, whether it was love of heartbreak, needed to be worthy of that danger.

"I don’t know," he admitted finally, his voice hoarse. "I want to believe we do. I don’t think we would be here now if there wasn’t a chance." He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I don’t want to lose you. I never wanted to hurt you."

You swallowed hard, turning to face him with leftover tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"I don’t want to lose you either," you said, your fingers tracing small patterns over his bare chest. "But I don’t know if things can go right back to how they were.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and he gently tipped your chin up so that your eyes met. There was something soft yet intense in his gaze, a quiet determination lurking beneath. "I don’t think either of us want them back to the way they were,” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the laugh that wanted to slip out. “Maybe better than before. But I don’t know if that can happen straight away,” you confessed.

Harry took your mug from your hand, reaching behind you to place it on your nightstand, before pulling you closer to his chest. Snuggled up to his side, with his arms right around you, you suddenly felt more secure in yourself and Harry’s future than you ever had.

“All we can do is try,” he whispered against your skin, his nose nudging at your cheek.

Slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, finding a softness in his face that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen before. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if even he was uncertain about his every move, but the tenderness in his expression made your breath catch. You leaned further into him, your lips ghosting across his.

Then his lips brushed yours, a sweetness in the gesture that made your heart stutter. Your eyes were locked on each others, seeking permission and acceptance, neither of you sure about how the other would react. But when neither of you made the effort to move away, or to protest, the space between you disappeared in the smallest of breaths.

Harry’s mouth moved with hesitance, as if he wasn’t sure he really had the right to be there with you, wrapping himself around you. But you kissed him back, of course you kissed him back, praying that any movements you made showed him just how much you wanted him there.

Your hand found his, your fingers lacing together as if to make your connection deeper. Neither of you pulled away, savoring the tentative closeness, letting the quiet stretch between kisses, as if testing the waters of something new and unknown.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each others, breaths mingling in the soft light. Harry’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand, his touch grounding and real.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as your eyes trailed over his face. “Tomorrow is a new day,” you murmured, nudging your head into the space between his shoulder and his neck, breathing him in with a content smile brewing your lips.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” Harry repeated, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.

oop thank you so much for reading!!!!

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[harryistheonlyoneforme]

this was LIFE. CHANGING. have i been living under a rockkkkk??????

📺 Sugar

A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.

C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.

18+ ONLY.

***

New York City, 1964.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."

The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.

This was his favourite part.

The cheers, the introduction, the attention.

You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.

Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.

"She sells..." You coached.

He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.

"She sells seashells by the seashore."

"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"

"Like a million bucks, Sal!"

"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.

"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.

"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.

"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.

"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.

"Let me scope it out."

"Why?"

"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."

"How do you know which one to pick?"

He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."

"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."

You shuddered at the recollection.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.

He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.

You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.

Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?

The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.

Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.

He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.

But you knew what happened behind the scenes.

Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.

Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.

The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.

Purely a falsity of a man.

The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.

"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.

You beamed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks, sugar."

"No, like trip and fall."

His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."

The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.

"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"

Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.

He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.

He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.

As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.

It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.

The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"

And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.

"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."

"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"

"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."

And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.

Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.

But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.

Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.

In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.

Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.

"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"

"Kiss off, Styles."

That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.

There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.

But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.

The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.

"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"

His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.

Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.

As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.

"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"You don't say."

You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.

"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.

"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."

"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."

"Not funny."

A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.

You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.

"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.

"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"

You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.

"Alright, sugar?"

"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.

You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."

Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.

As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.

But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.

The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.

Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.

You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.

He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.

His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.

You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.

"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"

You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"

The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.

He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."

"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.

He raised a brow. "Did I?"

"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.

He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.

"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."

"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.

"No?"

"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.

"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"

You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.

"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?

He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.

The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.

His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"

You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.

"Blue." You breathed out.

"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"

You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"

Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?

"A peek couldn't hurt."

He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.

"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."

You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.

Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.

And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.

"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"

"I had you in mind."

"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."

You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.

"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."

"Please," You whispered. "taste me."

"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.

"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Because of you, Harry."

"Me?" Cocky little shit.

"Mm."

"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.

"Only when you're nice to me."

"But you like me mean, don't you?"

"You're an asshole."

"Gets you wet, though."

Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.

His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.

Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.

You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.

"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?

He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.

"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."

You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.

"Who's in charge, hm?"

"You are."

"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"

The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.

"You are, Harry."

He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.

"There's my good girl."

Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.

You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.

Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.

A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.

His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.

"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."

"Blue suits you."

"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"

Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"

"What?"

"The blue suit."

"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"

"Because you're nosy."

"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."

"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."

"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."

"Prick."

He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"

"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."

"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.

"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."

"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."

"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."

You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.

Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.

"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.

You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.

"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.

"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.

Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.

With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.

Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.

"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.

"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."

You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.

As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.

"You know New York..." You guided.

"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Again."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."

"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."

"Oh my-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"

The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.

Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.

"Harry..."

His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"

You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.

He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.

You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.

"N-No. I have to go."

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.

He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.

"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"

You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.

"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."

You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.

He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.

His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.

"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.

"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.

"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.

"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."

He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.

"I- Yeah, okay."

You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.

"And we're back in three... two... one..."

His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.

He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.

He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.

His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.

It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.

As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.

And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.

You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.

"How'd I do?"

"Phenomenal."

"Did you like my jokes?"

You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.

"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."

It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.

"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."

His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.

And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.

How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.

You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.

And then he locked the door with a click.

He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.

He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.

Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.

He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.

Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.

He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.

"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"

He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.

You shook your head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think you're that good."

He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.

"Oh, you don't think so?"

"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."

He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"

"That you won't need coffee tonight?"

He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.

"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."

The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?

You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."

His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.

You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.

He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.

"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."

"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.

"I wanna have a play first."

"Fuck, please just-"

He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.

He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.

He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.

He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.

Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.

He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.

Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.

Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.

He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.

Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.

You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.

You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.

The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.

If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.

His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.

Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.

"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.

He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.

And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"

With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.

Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.

But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."

You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.

Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.

He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.

"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.

"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."

"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.

He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.

"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."

He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.

"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.

He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."

The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.

He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.

He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.

"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.

"I've been hard for you all night."

He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.

You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.

You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.

With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.

"Your cock is so..."

Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"

"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.

"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.

"Yeah."

Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"

You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.

Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.

"Swallow me."

"Make me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.

But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"

He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.

You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.

He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.

He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.

"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.

Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."

"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.

"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."

You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?

He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."

You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."

The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.

He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."

Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.

"Please," You mewled.

"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."

"Fuck me, Harry. Please."

"Hard?"

"Hard."

His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.

He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.

"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.

He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.

"You call that hard, baby?"

He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"

"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"

He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.

"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."

It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.

"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."

"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.

You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.

"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"

"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.

"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."

The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.

You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.

The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.

"Call me an asshole again."

"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."

"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"

"W-What?"

"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."

Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.

Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.

"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.

Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.

He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.

Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.

"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.

"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.

"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."

"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."

"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"

He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.

He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.

Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.

"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.

He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.

"Don't I?" He spat.

"Yes,"

He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me good."

Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.

You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.

Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.

"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."

This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.

He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.

His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.

You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.

He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."

You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.

His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.

You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.

"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.

"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"

You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.

"Fuck yes."

Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.

"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."

"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."

He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.

He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.

The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.

And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.

He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.

And neither of you could wait to do it again.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.

"We?"

"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."

You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"

His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."

You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.

"Behave, sugar."

"But that's no fun."

He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.

"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."

You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.

As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.

"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"

"I'm counting on it."

He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.

"Hey, I need those."

"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.

"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"

A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.

"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."

The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells. 

[smuttyaf]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞/𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐝𝐬𝐦. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬:

his life is starting to affect you.

𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛:

the story about how you meet.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭:

harry shows you what he does for work.

𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐫. 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 )

harry introduces bdsm.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦

secrets cut wounds into the relationship.

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

you’re compelled to adapt to his lifestyle.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? ( 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 )

harry likes to see you

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

The Alchemy

AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

CW: Smut

Word Count: 6,871

Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.

It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.

Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.

Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.

Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 

Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."

I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 

"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 

Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."

As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.

"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."

Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."

I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."

She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."

Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.

"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.

As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.

Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 

I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 

I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 

Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.

Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 

For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 

That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.

As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.

"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."

I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.

But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."

Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.

The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.

"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 

"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 

Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 

"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"

His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 

I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 

Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.

"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 

"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 

My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.

I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.

I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H

I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.

I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.

I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.

After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.

I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.

His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.

The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.

I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.

Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.

As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.

By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.

Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.

I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 

"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 

Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 

I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 

"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 

Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.

I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 

Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.

Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 

I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 

As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.

At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 

In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.

As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.

"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.

"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.

"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.

Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 

I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 

"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."

Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 

"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 

Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...

But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 

Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.

As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.

A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.

As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."

I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."

He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.

"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."

I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."

Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."

We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.

I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.

Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.

The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.

Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 

His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 

"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.

Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.

"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.

My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.

Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.

Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.

Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”

As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.

Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.

"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."

He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.

I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.

Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .

"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 

My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 

I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.

My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.

My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.

"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."

I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.

My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.

And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.

He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.

But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 

As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."

I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 

"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."

He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.

"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.

As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.

We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.

I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.

"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.

I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.

"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.

I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."

He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.

My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.

"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.

A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.

Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.

As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.

The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.

Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.

His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.

The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.

I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.

Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.

One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.

I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.

Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.

Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.

"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.

"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."

Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.

“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.

“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”

The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.

[writeoffside]

SILENCE HAS OVERTAKEN

♯ harry styles x fem!reader - angst / sad

summary: Harry doesn’t trust himself by talking to you , he wants to keep you safe but it really isn’t helping any of you.

warnings: arguing, swearing, nightmares, kissing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: first post on here, enjoy !!

The days had gone by since the last ‘i love you’ has been spoken between the two so-called lovers. The silence has taken over the sweet and loving house they used to call a home. It has no longer been a home. For neither one of them.

The uncomfortable silence during the dinners everynight was heavy. The only sound during this time could only be the knives and forks sounds scraping over the plates. Neither one of them even bothered to start a talk, not even a small one.

Everytime he finished his food, he would drop his cutlery on the side and leave the table without a word. Not even bothering to say a little ‘thank you’ for preparing the table, making the food or anything.

All the nights were terrible. Terrible couldn’t even be the word to describe how unpleasant the nights were. 

When he would leave the dining room, he would mostly go to his room or his studio and lock himself there. After locking himself away from everything, the uncomfortable silence would take over the house again. 

It was all just silence.

“Harry! C'mon! Are you fucking mental?” The screams echoed around the house. There was no more of silence. Only the sounds of screaming, yelling, swearing and throwing words around.

“Me? Fucking me? Y/n, you’re the one who started this shit!” I screamed loudly, hitting the top of the counter with my palm. Hissing the moment my hand met with the cold surface of the countertop. 

I had enough of this shit and all this arguing.

“Y/n! For fuck’s sake! You've been saying all this shit for so damn long! Don't you think that you’re the main problem there?” I yelled back at her, my last sentence echoing around the house. My eyes burning into hers as my knuckles turn white from gripping the side of the counter. 

“Fuck you, Harry! You've been locking yourself away from me for weeks now and when I wanna talk to you for a damn minute, you start all this!” She throws her hands in the air, pointing at me and her. 

Between us. 

I see a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly wipes it off with end of her sleeves. Her eyes are fully watery and her hands are shaking as she stands there in front of me. 

“Screw you, Y/n! Fuck you seriously! This is all your fault. If you wouldn’t be there, everything would have been fucking fine! Don't you see that you're the problem between us? Hell... I don’t know what else to say! Fucking hell!” I yell out. My hands are now digging into sides of my head as i close my eyes, my teeth biting into my lower lips as I manage to draw out blood—

I suddenly jolt awake. A gasp coming out of me. My hands gripping the sheets as I sit up, eyes flying open. 

Shaky breaths coming out as I try to catch my breath from the dream… No, a nightmare I've just had. 

Sweat drips down my naked back, as I sit and breathe. Closing my eyes and digging the palms into my eyes as I take deep breaths and try to stbilize myself. My heart beats quickly.

This isn’t the first night I've had this exact same nightmare. It has been happening for weeks now. 

And it's all my fault.

I push the sheets off my legs and stand up. My whole legs feel like they are about to break down just there. I cannot even stand straight.

The world is spinning around me as I try to stand. I breathe out as I collapse back onto the bed.

I sit at the edge of the bed, hands holding the sides as I lean myself over and close my eyes. I suck in a breath and let my eyes close for a brief moment. 

I sit still. The only sound I can overhear is my breathing and quiet ringing in my ears. 

My head feels like it will explode anytime soon.

“Fuckin’ hell…” I mumble under my breath as I once again try to stand up. My body swaying a bit, my feet waddling over the cold floor. My head spins when I reach towards the handle and pull it to open. 

Then I'm suddenly met with a person standing right in front of me. 

Their eyes wide opened as they stare back at me in shock. Their mouth drops a little when their eyes make a full eye contact with mine. My hands start to sweat as I hold the handle of the door. 

“Harry…” She mumbles out into the darkness of our house. The voice coming out soft and calming to my ears. She stands still and she doesn’t reach her hand to brush my cheek like she usually does, or doesn’t lean in to plant a little kiss against my cheek or right on my lips. She just stands still, her eyes deeply looking into mine. 

It feels like I've been staring into them for hours, falling into them. 

“Hey...” I whisper out, my voice coming out raspy. I lean myself against the doorframe, hand leaving the door handle and I cross my arms over each other against my chest. My legs still feeling wobbly and I feel like i'm about to break down just there and fall down right in front of her. But i stay still. 

“What... What are you doing here? It's late…” I mumble out, my eyes holding the eye contact, deeply staring into her orbs. 

We haven’t spoken for days now. I haven’t talked to her in multiple days in a row. I haven’t looked into her eyes. I did nothing. 

Absolutely nothing for her.

She shifts from one leg to other, clearly uncomfortable. My stare stays put on her as I await for her to answer. My eyelids feel heavy but I keep them up just to see her beautiful face. I wouldn't want to miss a second. 

I haven’t appreciate her in days. I haven't seen her, haven’t complimented her, haven’t kissed her… 

I've done nothing. 

“You've… Um... You've been doing something in your sleep," she says, her stare shifting away from mine. Turning her head to look into the hallway, ignoring my hard stare. 

She sways a bit, back and forth slowly.

“What?” I question her and shift a bit on my legs. Already slowly growing anxious over this conversation... I haven't spoken to her in weeks and this must be our first conversation in such a long time.. In middle of a night, her standing in her night pajamas and me leaning onto a doorframe with just a pajama pants. Sweat still dripping down my back from the usual nightmare.

“You've been screaming a lot in your sleep lately... Especially my name, Harry," she answers quietly , her voice so small that you couldn't even properly hear her if I wasn't that close to her. 

My stomach turns as she answers.

“Oh…” This was the answer she probably wasn’t expecting to hear. 

“Oh?” She repeats my answer and turns her head back towards to me. Her eyes coming back to mine as we stare at each other.

I missed the nights we used to sleep next to each other, when I could hug you, kiss you, tell you how much I love you. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you in any possible way. I don’t want to continue our relationship like this. I want us back.

I wanted to say to her. Wanted her to hear how it’s tearing me by being like this. Away from everything. Away from her. 

“Harry," she whispers to me, tearing me away from my thoughts. She breathes out a small breath as I stare down at her. 

“I'm sorry..” My words come out in a broken whisper. A breeze runs down my back. The hairs on my neck and arms stand up. And then it comes.

I suddenly break down.

I take a step towards her smaller frame and push myself against her. My arms sneak around her body and pulling her against me. My face falls against her crook of her neck and I hunch myself, letting my body collapse. Taking her scent in. 

I tighten my hold against her body and hug her the way I never did. My face lays against her neck as I breathe out.

I feel her shoulders move and then i feel it. Her smaller hands on my back as she holds me back. Her head moves a bit and I can feel a small kiss being planted on top of my head. 

Tears run down my cheeks and sobs fill the silence in the house. My body aches and shakes against hers. My eyes are shut and tears run down like waterfalls. 

My legs feel like they’re about to break against the hard wooden floor and fall down with my whole body. Shaking as I stand against her and the silence is fully overtaken by my cries and sobs.

“Shhh... It's okay. Let it out," she mumbles against my hair. I start to shake my head, disagreeing quickly to her.

“No... No, Y/n. It's not okay.. I was, no, I am a fucking idiot! I'm- I'm sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking. I don't know…” I stutter my words out, pulling my head away from the crook of her neck. My eyes running all over face.

“I was scared? I didn’t know what to do," I take a step away from her, my voice shaking as I spill my truth out to her, “I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t want to hurt you," i tell her with broken voice. 

“Hurt me? Harry, what do you mean?” She asks in her soft tone. Her sleepy but adorably beautiful and blown out eyes look straight into mine. Her eyes are searching for something in my eyes. She can see that I'm scared. 

She can see the fear in me.

“No, no, no…” I mumble out, my eyes shutting as I walk back into my room. My hands fly upwards to start gripping the side of my head, “You.. You don’t understand, Y/n. you won’t understand it," I cry out as I walk around my room stressfully.  

“Harry. I'll try to understand," she answers and walks towards me. Then she slowly and softly touches my cheek. Holding her palm against my cheek. Her eyes finding my teary ones.

“I just… Don't want you to get hurt because of me," I whisper to her, looking into her eyes. Finding the much needed comfort in them. My tears are stained on my cheeks and some are still trying to escape the hold of my eyes. 

“Harry... I want to help you. But, you need to explain to me what has been going on with you lately. You lock yourself away from everything and don’t even say a single word for days," she says, looking into my eyes and putting both of her palms against my cheeks. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes for few moments. 

I take a deep breathe and answer, “I know... I am just scared. I keep having this dream. Every damn night. And it scares me, fucking terrifies me," I open my eyes looking straight at her, “I don’t want to hurt you, or loose you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I feel so fucking bad for ignoring you, it has been tearing me," I breathe out, putting my hand over her hand on my cheek. 

My voices shakes through my answer. My vision is blurry from all the crying and I cannot form my sentences without stuttering or sobbing in between the words. All the fear is going on me as I talk more and tell her all the truth what has been holding me for past few weeks. 

“I snap a lot... in the dream. And I don’t want it to happen in reality as well. I snap and I say something that I would never say, never," I say, my voice shaking and my hands trembling, “sometimes I don’t wake up and it end up worse. I snap at you and I end up doing something what I would never plan on doing to you,” I whisper the last part, my eyes closing as my voice tremble. I tremble uncontrollably as I tell her the truth. 

“Harry... is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” She whispers, her eyes searching in mine as we stare into each others eyes deeply, "why didn't you tell me? I would try everything I could to help you, or at least try to help you," she moves her hand to my hair, gently holding me. My lips are slightly parted and I take deep steady breaths. 

My eyes close for a moment and I put my forehead against hers. Our breaths matching each others.

“I love you so so much, sweetheart," i whisper into the silence, “so fucking much,” the words spill themselves into the darkness of the room we’re standing in. 

“I love you too, Harry… so much.” she whispers back, “but you don’t have to be scared. you won’t hurt me, i know you too well..."

Then I feel it.

I feel her soft lips against mine. She kisses me against my lips for the first time in the weeks. Slowly leaning in, I kiss her back deeply. Showing her all the love i’ve been holding back. Her lips are like made for me. Our lips collide together as we quietly kiss in the darkness of the night. Her hands slide from my cheek to the nape of my neck and she pulls me closer.

“You don’t have to hide now, Harry. You wouldn’t hurt me. I'm here and always will be," she whispers to me. Her voice soft and quiet, like a dream.

“I'm so fucking sorry for locking myself away. For not being there for you... I'm so sorry. I love you so fucking much," I pull away slowly, my eyes fluttering open.

“Just... If you’re going through something… anytime, please tell me," her words get to me. 

“I will, I will... My love," I whisper to her. Tears, once again, forming in my eyes. 

The two lovers found themselves slowly rebuilding the connection between each other, what they both have thought that they've lost. The silence has been finally broken by the lover's confessions of his unspoken fears. 

my first writing on here! (don't ask me why my first ever writing was a sad one hahaha) hopefully you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it! :)

give it some love if u liked it !! yayyy

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

GODDDDDDDDDDDD IM UNWELL

Bad Idea, Right? H.S

Summary: It was always a bad idea to answer your ex-boyfriend's call... yet time and time again you just couldn't help yourself. This is one of those times, and possibly the last you'd be referring to him as an ex. (non-famous musician LHH)

Warning: smut. oral (f receiving), penetration, dirty talk, mild spanking, mild choking

Word count: 10k+

Author’s note: This is based off one of my fav songs atm, 'Bad idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo, as clearly indicated by the title! It also draws inspo from 'Talk' which gives LHH vibes to a T so I couldn't not use it... anyway, enjoyyyyy x

- Find my General Masterlist here -

The first time Harry called you, you thought you were seeing things. 

Your ex-boyfriend wasn’t a common notification in your phone. You didn’t call or text on the regular, and why would you? You were exes for a reason, otherwise, you’d probably be with him right now instead of out with your friends.

And as far as you knew, at least since your minor relapse where you tripped and fell into his bed all those months ago, he completely forgot your existence and deleted your number the second you left his apartment. 

While Harry was your ex, you had a bad habit of winding up in his car or his apartment every now and then. You just couldn’t help it! He had such a devilish-looking face and every time you saw him your brain just turned to absolute mush. Like it emptied out of thoughts and couldn’t do anything but say ahh. Like a happy sigh when you first enter a luxurious hot spa.

Plus, you were just exes turned friends. Just two people trying to reconnect in a bid to heal the hole you created in your friendship group. That's what you told yourself anyway. Really, it was just an excuse to somehow validate the poor decision-making skills you seemed to have when it came to him. One moment you could be ‘catching up’, then the next you’d be naked underneath him.

It wasn’t your fault that every fucking time you guys reconnected you ended up with his dick inside you. 

You’ll just blame Harry for that one.

However, it had been months since you reconnected. At first, you were pissed, then you cried like you two just broke up, then it was like Harry didn’t exist. However, that was hard when every man you tried to hook up with in a bid to forget him only brought him back into your mind due to how disappointing the experiences were.

So you were tipsy, maybe too tipsy to have Harry call you. But you pushed through it and ignored it the first time because truly you thought your brain was playing tricks on you. Three months of nothing, and now here he was calling you? It had to be a figment of your imagination.

Then he called again. That time you were starting to get convinced that he was in fact calling you and that it wasn’t the alcohol. But you resisted. You slung your arm around a stranger and pulled him in for a sloppy and quite frankly disgusting kiss.

It was wet and uncoordinated, but it was a distraction. A welcome one at that. Once the kiss was over, the stranger smiled and asked if you wanted to go get a drink from the bar. You just nodded and told one of your friends where you were going before letting the man drag you along to the bar.

Harry didn’t call back right away. It felt like 3 hours of listening to this guy go on and on about his market shares and the ‘right way’ to invest your money, a topic that frankly made your ears bleed before your phone vibrated in your purse again. This time, you were happy for the interruption and even happier when it was Harry’s name on the screen.

“I’ll be right back!” you yelled over the music, not bothering to wait for a response from the mystery man in front of you before you were off the bar stool and walking out the back to the smoker's courtyard for some quiet.

“Hello?” you answered, wrapping your arm around yourself and shivering a little at the cool air. Your outfit didn’t have the most coverage and while you did bring a jacket it was cloaked and once paid you could only check-in and check-out once. It wasn’t worth it for a five-minute phone conversation.

“Hi, darling” Harry rasped back. Just the sound of that deep, fucking hot voice of his made you have to bite down on your fist to stop yourself from screaming. And god the way he called you darling made you have to squeeze your thighs together. “It sounds loud where you are, are you out right now?”

“Maybe… why are you interested in what I’m doing?” you sang, trying to sound sober but failing miserably. 

“Have you been drinking? You’ve got that cute tipsy voice of yours” he laughed, that compliment making your heart beat erratically. Fuckkkk, you just hated how easily he could get you blushing. 

“You didn’t answer my questionnnn” you responded, this time trying to hide your smile. 

But it was easy to hear in your tone. Harry could hear it through the phone and he loved how he still managed to have that sort of effect on you even after all this time. 

Though it wasn’t really that long. Barely five months since you two broke up, and in that time you had slept together more times than he could count. So really, it was like how you two started your relationship in the first place. Friends, to casual lovers, to together for two years. And now it seemed like you were going through that same process again, even if you two were having post-breakup sex merely days after you broke up with him. 

“Just curious, s’all. It never takes three calls for you to pick up. You always answer on the first, so I was a bit worried. Thought you might’ve fallen into a fire or ditch somewhere” he wasn’t worried, he was just teasing you for always succumbing to his charm.

That was one problem in your relationship, something you didn’t mind as friends, but hated in a lover. A big fucking ego. It was something that caused a lot of arguments, and even now it never failed to irk you when he assumed you’d stop everything to just go to him.

He was right. But that didn’t mean you hated that he was right.  

“A fire?” you snorted, running a hand through your hair “Well, I’m all safe and sound. No ditches or fire where I am. So maybe you’re the reason I didn’t pick up”

“Me?” he chuckled and you could hear the ego just in his tone, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t want to talk to him. “No need to lie y/n… you always want to talk to me. Just like I always want to talk to you”

“If that were true you would’ve called me three months ago instead of ghosting me… besides, I’m busy with…” you couldn’t remember the guy’s name. That boring guy who kissed horribly and cared more about stocks than the fact that your areolas were practically spilling out the top of your dress. It started with a J… a J.

Red flag there already.

“I’m sorry y/n-” he sighed. But you didn’t want to hear his excuses. They were never good, or valid. They didn’t make up for any of his shitty behaviour. 

Usually, after you slept together Harry was texting or calling you that same week, seeing how you were and how you two should ‘catch up’. This was definitely the longest period of time before one of you attempted contact so you were actually quite curious what his excuse could be. Still, you had resisted reaching out first for months so you didn’t want to give in so easily. 

“Jake!” you settled on, knowing it was wrong but not caring at all. It made no difference what the name was, as long as it interrupted his poor excuse and was a male name you knew it would irk him. “I’m busy with Jake right now so I really have to go.”

“Oh… that’s too bad” he sighed a little too dramatically for your liking, acting like it didn’t bother him. “I’m all alone tonight and could really use some company if Jake wouldn’t mind. I’m sure he’d be understanding if you told him you needed to help out a friend in need.” 

Unfortunately for you, Harry was a bullshit reader. He knew you were single and knew Jake was some made-up guy, or if he was real, someone you didn’t care about. Harry also knew that at the end of the day, you just couldn’t resist him.

But he could tell you didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. You usually heard him out and then told him he was being ridiculous or a liar, but this time you didn’t even want to play that game. It was clear you really were irritated this time, something Harry wanted to make up for. 

“I think you should call another friend. Bye Harry.” You hung up before you could be swayed by his sweet talk and convinced to jump in an Uber to his apartment. 

Now Harry really knew you were pissed off with him.

Within 30 seconds he sent through a text with what seemed to be his new address. You attempted to ignore that one too, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You found yourself copying the address into maps to see how far it was. Only 15 minutes. 

Then, you even went as far as seeing how much the Uber would cost to get there. It wasn’t too expensive, but you knew it would be if you left it any later. 

God… this was a bad idea, right? 

Harry was cocky and egotistical, but he was also sweet and an utter romantic. That’s why you always found yourself going back to him. Paired with his cocky attitude was a soulful, gorgeous man, both inside and out who gave you some of the best memories and continued to do so even now.

H: So… am I seeing you tonight? 

H: I’ve got that brie you like

Ugh, and he had brie? 

You wanted to ignore the text, you really did. But as quickly as you shut him down, you were already booking the Uber and heading to the cloakroom to get your jacket.

Because really, who could say no to brie and good dick?

You: Do you have those crackers I like?

Harry really did know how to spoil you… unfortunately. Maybe if he was less attractive you could ignore his charms and brie. But he was a fine specimen and you doubted you’d ever see a man as attractive as him again. 

“Y/n! There you are, we’ve been looking for you” Casey yelled, using your arm to pull you closer as you made your way into the circle your group had formed. You couldn’t just leave them without giving some explanation, especially since you all arrived together and planned to go home together. 

“Sorry! I was with Jack… but I’m actually gonna go home now” you smiled apologetically, but really you were just itching to get out of here and go see Harry. 

“Nooo, why!? Please stay” Grace whined, hanging off you like a dead weight. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just getting so late and I’m so tired. I’ve got work tomorrow, remember? I’m honestly craving…” Harry’s text in response to yours made your response stutter as you couldn’t resist reading the message quickly and smiling.  

H: I’m not an amateur, darling. I even have that chutney you like H: And a bottle of your favourite pinot 

You were quick to turn your phone back off though, and finish off your sentence “...sleep” You yelled back. But your friends were eyeing you suspiciously like they knew Harry was texting you and that you wouldn’t be sleeping in your own bed tonight.

“Oh my god are you going to see Harry!?” Casey exclaimed, slapping your arm like she was scolding you. 

“y/n! You can’t. He’s such a dick” Grace scolded, her voice a loud yell and slightly slurred. While you and Harry’s friendship groups crossed a lot, your close girlfriends weren’t the biggest fans of his. 

“I’m not seeing him!” you defended, “I haven’t heard from him in months. Since I made that mistake last time, remember?” 

You quickly unlocked your phone to check on your Uber this time and found that he was already outside the bar and waiting for you. “Look, I have to go. But I’m going home to sleep, promise.” You looked right at Casey, hoping she’d believe your poor lying. You never were a good liar. 

“Fine! But text us when you get home” Casey gave you a warning glare and you were quick to hug her and the rest of the girls goodbye before you were out the front entrance and heading to your Uber. 

You: On my way

//

“Hi” Harry smiled, already leaning on his door frame as he watched you approach his second-floor apartment. It was a lot nicer than his last one, or your last one more like it since it was the apartment you two shared before you moved out. 

“Hi…” you breathed, your mind turning into mush like every other time you saw his gorgeous face. You had sobered up significantly now, which was a blessing since just seeing Harry made you want to rip your clothes off. And hit him. 

His long hair hung in ringlets down his shoulder and the way his slightly see-through button down showed off his tattoo-covered chest was making you absolutely feral. And those skinny jeans… he was the only man who could pull it off that’s for sure. 

“I see you’ve had an upgrade. The building is nice” you commented, stopping right in front of him. 

“It is, isn’t it? Would be much nicer if you were in it with me” he charmed, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer. You stumbled a little and grabbed his biceps for balance.

Harry always did this. Time and time again he tried to convince you that you two would be better together. Living together and dating like you used to. And while part of you wanted that, desperately, the other knew it was such a terrible idea it would make hell reign on earth if you two started dating again. 

There were just too many problems between you two that you couldn’t seem to fix. 

“You know I don’t like it when you act like this will ever be more than one night” you remarked, sliding your hands up his shoulders to cup his jaw. It tensed under your touch and you loved how something so light could get a reaction like that.

“I know… but I just can’t help myself… always miss my favourite girl” he smirked, leaning in to give you a deep kiss. 

The way he doted on you and said things like that could make any girl beg to get back together. But you were trying to grow as a single woman, as someone independent and without a man. Harry also still had that massive ego problem, which so far hasn’t been fixed.

You sighed into his mouth and allowed your hands to move further up into his hair, threading right at the nape of his neck. Now this… this was a kiss. 

It was only enough to leave you breathless before he pulled away. “You look breathtaking, by the way. This… this is incredible” he breathed, tugging at the hem of your short dress. 

“I know” you grinned, making him laugh loudly. “Now I’m pretty sure I was promised brie and Pinot.” You patted his chest and slid past him, ensuring your body brushed against his. 

Harry had to resist jumping you when you did that. He never could resist you. Even when you two fought and you pissed him off, he still wanted to ravage you. He found you so fucking sexy and the way you always handled his attitude problem and threw it back in his face like it was a game turned him on more than anything. 

You could call him self-absorbed and egotistical then five minutes later be on your knees before him or head down, ass up on the bed. You gave him equal pushback and submission and he ate it up like he needed you to survive. 

He did. 

But you two were a classic case of right person wrong time, or, boyfriend with an attitude problem, sick of it girlfriend. Harry knew he had to work on it, it was something he had been actively working on the last 5 months you two had been broken up. 

Though it didn’t help when every time he was around you, he had this urge to piss you off and get you all sexy and angry. It also didn’t help that he was a dickhead who decided to ghost you after you two hooked up last time. 

Maybe he did that because he wanted to grow as a person for you and to do that he had to be away from you. That’s the reason he would’ve given you if you asked, but it was clear you didn’t want to hear an explanation from him. 

“Wow, this place really is nice” you gawked, looking around the modern apartment that was a lot nicer than the last. He had his vintage touches throughout, softening and giving personality to the clean modern bones. You loved it. 

It was very Harry. 

“Thank you…. I’ve been collecting vintage pieces for a couple months now.” Harry closed the door behind him and watched you look around his open-planned living room. 

The apartment was cozy and on the smaller size, but perfect for one person… or two. There was even a spare bedroom. It was one he currently had as a music room but imagined you turning into a work-from-home space or a closet or anything. Anything that was yours.

“Would you like a tour?” he offered, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Maybe another time. But I think I’d like that glass of pinot now…” You smiled coyly and made eye contact with him as you unzipped your jacket and slid it off your shoulders, dumping it and your bag on his couch.

His eyes darkened at your newly exposed skin, all shoulders and collarbones and cleavage so fucking delicious looking he wanted to eat you alive. Your dress was barely holding your breasts and the deep v neckline only pushed them up further.

Fuck did you look fantastic. 

“Have a seat then, darling” he patted the top of his couch on his way to his kitchen where he walked around the island bench to get the bottle of pino from the fridge. 

You weren’t really hungry for brie anymore. Sure, it was one of the motivators to get you here. But now that you were here, your hunger was for something more… substantial… manly. 

You gladly sat down on the couch and then undid your heels from your night out. You were quick to make yourself comfortable on the new and very plush couch of his, sitting with your back against the armrest and your legs crossed with a pillow in your lap so you weren’t entirely exposed to him. 

You were facing Harry, and with how you were sitting your little underwear was completely exposed to him without the pillow there. That wasn’t something you wanted… yet. 

“I see you’re making yourself at home then?” He raised a brow and ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he unscrewed the cap from the bottle and eyed your body. He went up your legs from your ankles right to your upper thighs which were all exposed due to how short your dress was. 

The pillow was blocking what he really wanted to see and he just wanted to make it disappear so he could wedge himself between your legs and feast on your pretty pussy. God, he could almost taste you. Could almost smell your arousal from his position all the way in the kitchen. 

Harry hoped you’d let him taste you tonight. He was hoping that the Brie he had in his fridge just for you would get him in your good books. Though, considering how food-motivated you were, you hadn’t asked for it yet. 

“Well, how can I not when this couch is so nice?” You ran your hand over the back of the couch, feeling its soft, almost velvety material. “Is all this thanks to your new job?”

Harry shrugged and walked to you with the glasses of Pinot in hand. “I quit that, actually. It wasn’t for me.”

“Oh really?-thanks” You thanked him when he passed you a glass and sat down opposite you on the couch, his back against the opposite armrest so he was facing you. “So what are you doing now?” You sipped your wine, curious what job could afford a nice apartment like this. 

“Music actually. One of my college buddies, remember Niall?” You nodded, remembering the hilarious Irishman you really did enjoy spending time with. You got along with his girlfriend really well too, but since he was more Harry’s friend than yours, it was a friendship you kind of lost during the breakup. “Well he released his first album and it did super well.” You nodded again, sipping your wine. 

“I heard it, it’s great!”

He nodded with a smile and ran a hand through his hair, “I know. I helped him write a bunch of the songs on it. I did some backing vocals and played the bass for it too.” He said it so casually like it didn’t matter. But you knew it was a big deal, even if Harry was downplaying it. 

“Oh wow Harry, that’s so amazing! It’s what you’ve always wanted to do.” you genuinely were happy for him. 

Harry was a very talented singer and musician in general, he just never did anything with it. While Harry had a giant ego, his musical talent was the one thing he lacked confidence in. It was the one thing he didn’t like to boast or show off. But you knew he was a very talented guy, and you had been encouraging him to do something with it for years. 

“Thank you… I even, well…” he trailed off, looking away with a bit of nerves. You watched him curiously, putting your wine glass down on the coffee table so your full attention was on him. “I started recording my own song” he looked back at you. “Finished it actually. When I had the rough demo done Niall got me into contact with some producers and they ended up loving it. It’s finished now and we’re sorting out a contract and release date.” 

“Wow Harry. Really, I am just so proud of you. Really, really proud” you beamed, feeling so genuinely full of love and happiness for him. There was never the question of whether you were still in love with him. You were, and you’d never stop. 

“Thank you” he replied earnestly, looking right into your eyes. 

The eye contact was so full of heat and intensity it was almost too much for you. But it wasn’t a sensual heat, although you did know that he wanted to fuck you. No… it was more a deep care. Love even. And you knew it was bad, to want him to love you back when you two could never seem to get past your issues. 

But you wanted him to. Doesn’t everyone want to be loved by the person they love? 

“You don’t have to thank me, you deserve to be happy Harry. So… can I hear it? Or am I not allowed to ask that?” You couldn’t help but be curious about the song. Was it about you? 

You didn’t want to seem self-centred, because Harry had a very interesting life and there was so much he could write music about. But your relationship was a very complicated one, and if you had any musical talent it was definitely something you’d want to write about. 

There was a moment of silence before Harry nodded and put his wine down on the coffee table. He stood up and held his hand out, “Come on.”

You let him pull you up from the couch then lead you to his music room, hands still intertwined the entire way. Just the feeling of his hand in yours sent shivers through your arm and up to your chest. It was like it zapped your heart and sent it on a sprint. 

The music room was as professional as it could be in Harry’s office. His guitars were displayed on one wall and he had a little makeshift sound booth in one corner. It wasn’t a separate room or anything, just a hanging microphone with a sound barrier to amplify any noise. It wasn’t a room capable enough to do a song start to finish, but you could easily see a demo being done, or other editing. 

There was a desk with computer equipment and a couch as well. Some of this stuff he had when you two were together, like some of the guitars and his computer setup as he used to use it for work. But a lot of it was new, and you could just see how much calm and joy he got in this room just by standing in it. 

“This space is great Harry” you complimented, stepping further into the room. 

“It’s become my safe space, you could say” Harry replied softly, walking over to his computer and setting something up. You looked around the room as you waited, unsure what to expect as his debut song.  

“Come here” he motioned you over and you were quick to walk to him. “Press the spacebar when you’re ready.” Then he took some steps back to allow you to play the song. 

You clicked the button with a bit of nerves and when the first few chords played your whole body went tense in anticipation. It had a rockier vibe and you liked it. It was like the backing track to Harry’s rockstar qualities and look. 

“What’s it called?” You asked before any lyrics started. 

“Talk.” 

You made eye contact with him through the blackened monitor to the left of the computer you were on. His reflection was easily seen through the screen and you could see his expression. He was nervous. 

When the first few lyrics started you found yourself bopping along. It was good, amazing really and his voice was just so hot and raspy. That was the first thing you picked up on really, how fucking hot he sounded. And it was catchy too. You knew it would do well and you could see yourself screaming it in the car.  

But as you started to really listen to the lyrics, you could hear the correlation to your relationship. How you were sick and tired of him, how you two fought, the many arguments you had that just couldn’t be fixed with talking. There were times you just didn’t want to talk at all, or you didn’t want to hear him out. 

You sometimes added to your problems just as much as Harry created them. You were at fault as well, you couldn’t blame him entirely for your relationship’s downfall. 

Love is what you want, love’s a broken bone. 

That line there had you gasping a little. Because it was your relationship to a T. You had so much love for each other, yet it hurt and wounded you all at the same time. 

“That was… wow, that was amazing Harry.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and sighed before speaking again. “We never were good at talking, were we?” you breathed, looking at him through the slight reflection of the monitor. You didn’t say a single word until the song was over and neither did Harry. He shook his head.

“No. I wasn’t very good at taking criticism.”

You spun around to face him, noticing that he was much closer than you thought he was. With only two steps he’d be right against you, close enough for your bodies to touch and his body heat to radiate against yours. 

“And I wasn’t good at listening.” You admitted. He smiled softly and crossed the distance, raising his hand to graze his knuckles against your cheek. Your hands found his shirt instantly, fisting it like you were scared he’d suddenly disappear right in front of you. 

“That’s because I was-am an egotistical asshole who drove you crazy. I wouldn’t listen to me either” his breath fanned against your face and the slight tinge of wine in his otherwise minty breath was making you a little crazy. He just smelt so yummy and he was so close to you that ‘ahh’ feeling was clouding your brain again.

“Well… I won’t disagree with that” you joked. His mouth quirked in a smile as his knuckles followed the curve of your cheek until he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. It had your breath hitching and smooth delicious arousal starting to creep up your spine. It was swirling all through your body until your clit was aching. 

It was hard not to get like that when he looked so good and smelt so nice and had that dark horny look in his eyes that told you he just wanted to ravage you. And fuck was Harry good at ravaging. 

Your relationship was like this. One second you could be fighting or talking about something important and within seconds those heightened emotions turned into arousal and need for each other. There was a reason you just couldn’t stay away from his cock. 

“But I also loved the crazy” you whispered, moving your hands up his shirt until you were fiddling with his collar. “And I think we had a good method of dealing with it… We might not be good at talking, but we’re certainly good at… communicating”

You pronounced ‘communicating’ with just the right suggestive tone that told Harry exactly what you meant. You two weren’t good at talking. But you were good at screaming and you were good at fucking. 

And just like Harry’s song, you didn’t want to talk it out. 

“We are, aren’t we?” he smirked. So with that, all hell broke loose.

His mouth came crashing down on yours and his hands were on your ass fast. He grabbed your ass and hips and anywhere he could, feeling your body like he was trying to memorise it before he was picking you up and placing you on his desk. 

You were trying to match the way his mouth moved while unbuttoning his shirt all at the same time. While you did that, he was pushing your legs apart so he could step between them and push the skirt of your dress up around your hips. 

Kissing him was getting you riled up fast. His smell, deep and vanillary, a hint of spice like he was trying to smell edible on purpose. And his heat, the feeling of his body pressed to yours. All hard and toned muscles, but also soft like he was trying to fuse your bodies together. It was all driving you fucking crazy.

There was something about the way he moved his mouth and body that got you so beyond turned on you could barely contain yourself too. When Harry kissed he didn't just use his mouth, he used his entire body. He grabbed at you and caressed you and the way he moaned in your mouth like he missed you made you crave him like nothing else. 

Harry liked to use tongue too, and today was no different. While he tugged at your hair and palmed at your breast, his tongue was tracing the seam of your mouth and trying to get in to dominate you. That wasn’t hard, not when you liked to be dominated. 

You managed to get his shirt unbuttoned and could now claw at his bare skin, which only made him kiss you harder and groan because he loved the bite of pain your nails marked in his skin. And when you shoved his shirt off and dropped it to the floor, you were able to explore his shoulders and arms too. God did you love his arms.

What you loved even more though… was his v-line. Your tongue loved the feeling of those deep ridges, slightly rounded and perfect and of course, leading to your second favourite part of his body. His pretty face was your favourite, his eyes the highlight of his beautiful face. But his cock was second.

Pretty and long and ugh. Everything down to the way he trimmed his pubic hair turned you on. Dick’s didn’t usually turn you on, at least visually. You didn’t see a penis and get wet… but with Harry’s. He genuinely just had a pretty cock and when it was attached to such a gorgeous and talented man… just the thought of it could get you wet. 

So there was no wonder that after a bit of kissing, you were absolutely soaked. 

His fingers met the crotch of your underwear and he groaned at how wet the fabric was. “God baby, already so wet f’me, hmm?” he rasped, sliding his hand through the hair at the nape of your neck and tugging your head back while he started rubbing circles against your clit through the thin layer.

It had you breathing out a moan and scratching your nails against his pecs. “Always, I hate it”

“I don’t” he rumbled a groan against your neck, his mouth now trailing down to reach your breasts. He started rubbing little circles against your clit, applying delicious pleasure that had you gasping for more. “I adore how soaked you get f’me. How hot and fucking tight you squeeze around me when I fuck you. Just a pretty little angel”

He tugged down the top of your dress before he pushed your flimsy underwear to the side and traced your crease softly. His mouth found your nipple and nipped at it, making you squirm, both to get away from the pain but also closer to his teasing on your pussy. 

“Don’t tease. I hate when you do that.” 

“Just makes it more fun for me, doesn’t it” he chuckled, finally dipping his fingers into your folds and tracing up and down from your clit to your entrance where he pressed right against it. 

You weren’t one to give in so easily though, or let him get away with being so annoying. So you were quick to grab his cock through his pants and squeeze, palming him hard enough to get him hissing and bucking his hips. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t so easy to tease. “Don’t be greedy” he tutted, slapping your hand away with the one he had in your hair.

“You’re such a sadistic-fuck” you cursed when he pressed harder against your clit, rubbing slow but delicious circles that felt so good but just nowhere near enough what you needed. “A-asshole, you’re a sadistic asshole” you stuttered, sliding your hand in his hair and tugging when he switched to your other breast and started nipping at that one. 

“Why? Because I like to tease? That’s not being sadistic, darling.” He kissed upwards until he was at your jaw, nipping his way to your lips where he kissed you deeply. 

At the same time, his fingers moved down from your clit to your entrance where he easily slid two into you. It was a bit of a stretch but it felt incredible. He found your g-spot easily, hooking his fingers there and stimulating it while grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

Harry pulled your hair harder, wrapping it around his fist so you were forced to look at him. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked at how you panted a moan into it. Fuck did he love that breathy moan of yours. 

It was hard to push your hand away from his cock before, especially when he was so damn hard and sore in his jeans he just needed to be inside you. But first, he needed to taste you. 

“If I were being sadistic I’d spank you for your attitude and fuck you ‘till you’re crying. And I’d enjoy every second of it.” 

You moaned filthily at his words, and his only made him chuckle mockingly and bite down on your bottom lip. “I know you’d like that though. You like when I fuck out all my anger, when I’m a little mean to you… when it hurts. Don’t you, baby?” 

He let go of your head with a little push and it automatically tipped back as your hips ground to meet his hand in return. One of your hands gripped the edge of the desk while the other remained in his long hair and followed his head as he slowly got down on his knees before you. 

“Uhuh” you nodded, watching as he pulled his fingers from you to use a hair tie on his wrist so he could put his hair up in a bun on the top of his head. It was something he did every time he ate you out, like a ritual so his hair was out of the way. Though, usually by the end of it those long curls of his were out of that bun and all messy from your tugging. 

It was hot. Except now that it was a thing, every time you saw him with his hair in a bun he pavloved your pussy into thinking it was about to get eaten out. It was quite irritating actually. But you’d never tell him that just the sight of his hair up made you wet. 

“But I like anything that keeps your mouth busy. Especially this.” 

He grinned up at you and pulled your underwear off before spreading your legs further apart. You helped him by propping your feet up on the edge of the desk and he was quick to caress down the back of your thighs. 

“And I like-” he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and you already wanted to scream with how he was looking up at you. “Anything-” he pressed another kiss, this time closer to where you needed him most. “That makes you-” another kiss, this time closer. “Scream my name” 

At the end of his words, his mouth met your pussy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your clit before he just dove right in. And this time, he didn’t bother teasing. He slid his tongue through your folds, collecting your arousal and moaning like he couldn’t get enough of it. 

Then he was back at your clit and lapping at it in steady wide licks. The pressure had you gasping and grabbing onto the bun on top of his head. You were squirming too, your hips shaking a little because Harry was teasing you and building up the pressure to something firmer and more delicious feeling. 

“Harry” you moaned, scratching your nails against his scalp and firmly tugging at the bun. 

“I know… I know bunny, feels good doesn’t it” he grinned up at you, licking a stripe up your inner thigh before returning to your clit. He flicked against it and you gasped, pulling him closer. 

“Please…” you weren’t sure what you were asking for and you hated begging. But you just wanted more, of something… anything. 

“I got you, I got you” he assured you, puckering his lips around your clit and sucking. 

The second he started doing that you were gone, head tilted back and moaning uncontrollably. He added his fingers back in and curled them perfectly, and he used his entire face to eat you out. 

While Harry could suffocate in your pussy and he’d gladly choose that as his death, especially when you sat on his face, he still needed a breath of air every now and then. But it was barely a break, he’d kiss around his fingers and on your inner thighs while his nose bumped up against your clit. 

He made sure his entire face was covered in your arousal because that’s how he liked it. He liked to eat, sleep and breathe pussy and if he could stay between your legs forever he would. 

“Harry…” you gasped, both hands dug deep in his hair. It was half fallen out now, only a few chunks still remaining in his bun while the rest was in your fingers or cascaded around his shoulders. 

“Yeah? You wanna say something?” He grinned up at you, that build-up of pleasure suddenly disappearing when he broke off your clit. 

You made a noise of disdain and hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling him closer by his hair. He groaned at the pain that went straight to his cock, making it swell in his pants. Then, he grabbed onto your thighs, digging his fingers into your skin to add that bite of pain he knew you liked. 

That was one thing you two had in common, a pain kink. 

His groan vibrated against your pussy which made you cry out and your head tip back again as you ground against his face. He loved it too. He lapped at your clit and let you take charge, something he rarely liked doing because he was the one who liked to be in control. But he just couldn’t help but find the way you were taking what you wanted so goddamn sexy his cock was pulsing just at the thought of it.

He moaned again in response to the way you took charge, chasing your own pleasure like he was a sex toy rather than a mouth. He wasn’t one to be used like this, but he didn’t care when his face was completely buried in your pussy. Harry fucking loved it and the look of pure ecstasy on your face made him well with pride. His girl being pleasured by him… something he missed dearly over the last couple of months. 

“Harry” you gasped, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…”

His response was muffled, but you could just understand him encouraging you to let go… to give it to him. So you did. It wasn’t long before you were gasping out, screaming his name and tightening your grip on his hair so hard he was cursing against your pussy. 

When you finally let go of his hair he was gasping out, pulling away from you to catch his breath but still lapping against you to draw you through your orgasm. It got too sensitive, which is when you removed your legs from his shoulders and guided him back up by his hair to kiss him. 

“Mmh, thank you” you smiled, kissing him happily and loving the taste of your own arousal on his tongue. 

You pulled the hair elastic out of the small portion it was still holding and threw it on the floor so you could freely run your hands through his hair. He smiled into your mouth and hugged you against him, sliding his hand down the outside of your thigh. 

“Don’t thank me, otherwise I’ll get right back down there and eat you till you’re crying” he teased, tugging on your hair as he bit your bottom lip. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time” you quipped, jumping down from the desk to guide him backwards towards the couch. 

“I’d give you anything you wanted, you know that right?” He was serious in his reply, but you didn’t really take it seriously and just pushed him down on the couch. 

“I know… that’s what I like about our little arrangement.” You climbed on top of him and ran your hands over his chest, sliding them down to trace his abs with your nails. His breath hitched and you smiled at the reaction, leaning down to lick a stripe through his pecs. 

He didn’t know why your words triggered something in him, but he felt this need to apologise, to explain himself and tell you what he wanted. Here you were, completely naked on top of him except for the little strip your gathered dress around your waist was covering, and getting you back was the top thing in his mind. 

When he looked at you, he saw the love of his life. Even though he knew you didn’t want to hear an explanation and that it was probably a better idea to just do tonight like usual instead of trying to win you back, he couldn’t help himself. 

“Listen… I’m sorry about ghosting you” his voice was rushed, desperate even. 

“I don’t want to talk about that” you replied, moving up to his mouth to kiss him while you worked on unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans to free his cock. That was all you could think about now. You didn’t want to think about anything else.

“I do. It was a big fucking mistake and I’m sorry” he breathed, his head tipping back against the couch as you kissed along his jaw instead. Just like he nipped at yours before, you returned the favour and worked on making a pretty little mark somewhere.

It was a bit juvenile, but you liked seeing your mark on his skin. When you saw each other at social events, a zap of absolute pleasure ran up your spine when you saw a hickey that you made somewhere on his body. Like he was still yours.

Even though you knew that you two weren’t good together, you still liked having some sort of hold on him. You knew it was better to be single, but if you were honest and actually had a hard look at your situation, were you really single? Physically, maybe, sometimes anyway. But emotionally? You were still caught up in Harry’s web.

“It doesn’t matter Harry,” you said haphazardly, trying not to think about it too much while you continued kissing along his neck. His pants were undone now but when you tried to get his cock out, he grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

“It does. I get that you might not care, and that’s something I’ve done and all I can do is try and fix it. But I care. It matters to me.” His eyes showed the desperation he must’ve been feeling, but you were just so suspicious about his intentions. 

However, the fact that he was pausing sex when you were sitting pretty much naked on top of him told you that he was serious and thought it was something important for you two to talk about. 

“Why does it matter to you, Harry?” You breathed, looking between his hands on your wrist and his face. His cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen and his cock was still hard beneath you. “We’re not together anymore and you and I both know that after this, we’ll go back to not talking again until one of us gets lonely. That’s how it’s been for the last five months.”

“It matters because I don’t want that anymore” he gently placed your hands on your knees, turning them to play with your palms. Harry’s eyes never left yours, even if he was struggling to keep eye contact. “I want you. I want us. I don’t want to go back to us just hooking up….” Your entire body froze at his admission. He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking again. “And I’m not fucking around this time or trying to tease. I’m being serious y/n. I’m still in love with you, I’ve never stopped loving you.” 

That’s all you ever wanted to hear. You just wanted him to say those words back, the same words you had been feeling non-stop since you two broke up. He pissed you off like no one else did, but you were so utterly in love with him you just couldn’t break things off fully in your mind. 

That was why you always gave in to his calls. That was why tonight you still came here despite being upset that he ghosted you and knowing it was a horrible idea. That was why you deluded yourself and convinced yourself you were just friends. But you weren’t. That was a fat lie and you knew it. 

“But that doesn’t change things, Harry. Love…” you swallowed thickly, bottom lip wobbling as you tried to control the tears pricking your eyes. “It isn’t always enough.” You looked away, pulling your hands from his to press your palms to your eyes. 

“I know… I know but that’s why I didn’t contact you after last time.” Harry pulled your hands from your eyes and intertwined them with his so you couldn’t pull them away again. The earnest look on his face had your heart beating erratically, and you desperately wanted to believe everything he was saying. “I should’ve called you and explained and I regret not doing that… I just realised that I needed to work on myself and I have. I started taking therapy more seriously and I… I did a lot of self-reflection. I’m writing and working out and all the things that have helped me get better… for you.” He reached up and ran his thumb under your eye, drying away the tear that spilled out. “I still have work to do and I’m not claiming to be perfect or that I won’t make mistakes again, but I want to try and be better for you. Give me another chance y/n. Please.”

Through Harry’s faults and your own, there was one thing that he wasn’t. A liar. He was an honest person and if he just ghosted you because he regretted sleeping with you, he would’ve said that. He wouldn’t lie about working on himself, because he wasn’t a manipulative person. He wouldn’t try and mislead you so you’d get back together with him. 

God and you loved him. You loved him so damn hard it hurt your soul to be away from him. In the five months you had been broken up, you didn’t actually try and get back together, not once. He mentioned it and you shut him down, thinking back to the many times during your relationship you tried to mend things after a fight.

But it had been five months. And even though you were still sleeping together, which probably wasn’t helping the situation, you felt different. You could tell Harry was different too. 

At the beginning of tonight, you were so set on not wanting to get back with him and wanting to resist his charm. But he wasn’t using charm to try and get you back, he was using honesty. And when you used honesty, you realised that you were too in love with him to let him go.

If you love someone, set them free; if they come back to you, it’s meant to be. That had to be true, right? 

You stayed silent for a little while and you could see the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to talk again but you beat him to it, not wanting him to retract any words or give you a way out. 

“I want to be better for you too, Harry,” you said softly, almost scared to admit it out loud. “I love you.” 

It was all you needed to say in the moment. You could talk later and figure out what this all meant. But for now, he was still hard and you were still wet and you needed him. 

His eyes flashed with heat then he was cupping your face and drawing you back in for a passionate kiss. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, y/n” he groaned, grabbing the edge of your dress to pull it upwards and off your body so you were now fully naked on top of him. 

It wasn’t covering much before, but now he could see the full expanse of your torso and it made him realise how fucking much he missed you. Your breasts and your stomach, the curve of your hips and down your thighs where you were sat on top of him. 

“I love you” you replied, happy to finally let the words release from your tongue. 

“I love you” Harry repeated again, just needing you to know it like he hadn’t already said it. He pulled you closer again and with a little coordination from both of you, you managed to get his jeans and underwear off and on the floor. 

Now you were both bare, just like your souls were. And now that you both knew how you felt about each other, your emotions were fuelling passion into your physical connection. There always was passion when you two had sex, even in the ones after your breakup. But now your love was flowing through it too. 

“We need to talk about this” you reminded, serious and looking dead in his eyes. 

“I know, and we will. But not now” he kissed you deeply, “Now it’s just us. You and me, like this…  so put me in baby, put me in.” Harry held you close, running his hands down the expanse of your back and grabbing onto your ass and hips. 

You nodded and wrapped your hand around his cock, lifting up on your knees before guiding his tip to your entrance. “Fuck… you’re so goddamn wet” he cursed at the feeling of his cock through your wet folds, your warmth and slickness making his head spin and he wasn’t even in you yet. 

When you dropped your hips and his tip first entered you, you both gasped and whimpered into each other's mouths. The first thrust was always the best. It was so full and the stretch of his cock inside you couldn’t compare to anything else. 

“I love you Harry… always have, and always will” you gasped into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck and moaning as your hips connected to his and he was fully sheathed inside you. The pressure of his cock so deep inside you had you quivering on top of him, like you couldn’t control your body’s reaction to how he stretched you out. 

“God do I love you… y’feel so fucking good baby” he moaned, grabbing your ass to start to grind your hips back and forth. You whimpered loudly into his mouth and followed his movements, grinding your hips in line with how he was moving you. 

Harry just filled you up so good. He was just perfect for your body in every way. It also helped that he just knew what you liked. After sleeping together for nearly three years now, you were both pretty in tune with each other's bodies and what got you off. 

Once you were adjusted, you were quick to start bouncing on him. He kept his hands on your ass and squeezed and kneaded, spanking it every now and then to make that pretty yelp of yours echo around the room. It was a sound Harry wanted to record and use in one of his songs, a background noise just loud enough to hear but not correlate with an actual moan. Just for you and him. 

“Being such a good fucking girl, y/n. Ride me so well” he praised, kissing and dragging his teeth down your neck until he captured your nipple in his mouth. He bit down roughly, making you cry out and move a little faster over him. 

The pleasure was dizzying. Between his cock hitting your g-spot, his hands grabbing your ass and spanking you and the way his mouth was working on your breasts… you were in absolute heaven. Your pussy was already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now barely a couple of minutes with him inside you, you were ready for your second. 

But something was missing. 

“Please Harry… would you…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, not when your fingers connected to your clit to bring the extra pleasure you needed to finish. 

But that wasn’t it. 

Your other hand drifted up, sliding between your breasts to your neck where it touched briefly before returning to Harry’s hair. It was out and unruly now, sweaty already from the sheer heat emitting from your bodies. 

From that little subtle touch on your neck, Harry knew exactly what you needed. But he wouldn’t give it to you that easily. He wanted your words. Wanted to hear you beg for it. 

He supported your back and was quick to stand up. You clung onto him but it didn’t last long before he had your back on the couch and was kneeling between your legs. He grabbed onto the back of your knees and press your legs to your chest, using that leverage to start fucking into you. 

It was steady, but hard and it had you gasping and reaching behind you to grab onto the couch for some sort of grounding. Anything to release the built-up pressure in your body. 

“What do you want, huh? You can use your big girl words, can't you, bunny?” He mocked, letting go of one of your legs to grab onto your breast and give it a firm squeeze. You gasped and arched your back into his hands, wrapping a leg around his hips to pull him closer to you. 

“You know what I want, Harry… don’t you want to give the love of your life what she wants?” You gasped, teasing him as you clenched around him with purpose. 

His thrusts faulted momentarily and you could see his jaw clench at the way you were challenging him, as well as the blinding pleasure that wrecked his body at the sudden tightness that surrounded his cock. 

“Only when she asks nicely” he slid his hand from your breast up to your neck, teasing you like he was about to wrap it around but instead going straight past and to the couch beside your head. He propped himself up and dipped down, capturing your mouth with his as he started thrusting faster this time. 

It was hard to think straight when he fucked you like this. With his chest brushing against yours and your nails clawing at his back… your mouths connected, but not really because you just couldn’t stop moaning. It was a connection like no other. Just skin on skin in your favourite way. 

His thrusts were bruising, hard and punishing. So punishing you couldn’t do anything but cry out for him. You were loud and uncoordinated, and you were barely able to get out your plea for what you really needed.

“Please… please choke me” you gave in, just like you always did. 

Harry grinned against your mouth, “Good girl”. 

With a final peck, he sat back on his haunches, pulling your legs over his thighs and wrapping his hand firmly around your neck. He squeezed it in just the right way, firm and in the correct spots on either side of your esophagus to send that woozy feeling straight to your brain. 

Then he was back to thrusting again and back to making you quiver and writhe beneath him, like you were addicted to the way his cock felt inside you. Truthfully... you were.

“Yes… yes, fuck!… Just fuck me, Harry. Please… h-harder!” you wanted it to hurt, to feel his love on you days later. You wanted to feel his cock still deep in your womb days later, like it was still there stretching you out and making you cum. 

“You take me so fucking well, bunny. Your pussy just feels so good wrapped around me… all mine isn’t it? It’s all fucking mine” he fucked you harder, the couch banging against the wall from how fast his hips were snapping into yours. 

It was just so overwhelming too. With every thrust your body spasmed and you screamed, unable to keep quiet due to how good he was fucking you. It hurt, but it hurt in the best way. Like scratching sunburn or pressing down on a cut, an addictive pain that you didn’t want to stop in some sort of fucked up way. 

Satisfying and dizzying all at once. 

“Uhuh” you nodded, borderline passed out and just taking what he gave you. 

He was obsessed with how fucked out you looked, like you went completely braindead. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was gaped, just enough to let out your moans and cries of ecstasy. 

Harry could cum just off that look alone, and he almost did but you weren’t quite there yet. Despite being sensitive after one orgasm, it always took a little longer for you to reach your second, which was something he learned pretty quickly when you two first got together. 

So he dipped his fingers right where his cock was pummelling into you and collected your arousal before dragging it upwards to use it as lube to rub your clit. Everything was just so wet and slippery and Harry couldn’t get enough of it. Your inner thighs were soaked and his cock was covered in your cream. It had dripped down and coated his balls from when you rode him, and the sight of it all covered in you was making his head spin. 

He fucking loved it. 

And it wasn’t long for you to start squeezing around him, for your pussy to flutter and your body to jerk in the beginning signs of your orgasm. Your back arched and before you could warn him your vision went black and you were crying out his name. Your fingers found his forearms, digging into them until little crescent marks seemed to tattoo themselves on his skin.

His thrusts stuttered and his body jerked as he came shortly after, finally letting himself release the orgasm he had been holding onto for a little while now. 

Harry collapsed on top of you and dug his head in your neck. You sighed at the contact and wrapped yourself around him, a little shaky and utterly exhausted, but happy. 

For the first time in five months, you were happy. Genuinely happy. 

“I missed that” Harry spoke up first, nuzzling into your neck before pressing a kiss against your sweaty skin. 

“I missed that too, I missed you” you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Are we really going to do this? Get back together?” He asked after a bit more comfortable silence, shifting a little so he could rest his chin against your sternum and look at you. 

“It’s probably a bad idea, right?” You kept playing with his hair, circling a curl around your finger mindlessly. 

“Probably…” he sighed, pressing the side of his face to your chest and not saying anything else. 

“I don’t care though” you spoke up again, causing him to turn his head and look at you. “I love you and I want to be with you. I want us to try again.” 

He smiled longingly and propped himself up so he was hovered over you. His shift had his cock moving inside you and you winced a little uncomfortably at the ache already growing there. But you loved it. It was exactly what you wanted. 

“We’re gonna make it work, I promise.” He looked at you honestly and spoke with full conviction. You smiled up at him and kissed him gently, tugging at his cross necklace. 

“I love you” 

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @tiredinwinter @cthwildflwr @justlemmeadoreyou @gurugirl @a-strange-familiar @hislcstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @littlenatilda @tbsloneely @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itsgigikay @femmefleur @groovychaosavenue @lolyouallsuck @swag13r @alyssarbaer @idrawshapesonpeople07 @straightontilmornin @lillefroe @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @freedomfireflies @lovebittenbyevans @itjustkindahappenedreally @reputationolivia

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍

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[purplecoffee13]

So I have unfortunately JUST found your page. I hate that I’d didn’t find it sooner! Slowly working my way through everything 🥰

I was wondering if you had any series recommendations for Harry? Nothing in particular, just wanted a series to lose myself in. Thanks!

Ahh I’m so glad you’re here!!! Hope you enjoy the stories🥰💞

There’s so many amazing authors on here!! I’ll give you my current favorite recs!!!

First of all:

favourite crime series by @harryslittlefreakk

this series is soooo good!!! Her writing skills are top tier I’m in awe of it + I have it on good authority that the upcoming chapters will have you clutching your pearls😋😏

La Villa Gialla & Paradiso Rosa by @temptress-writes

This is a two part one-shot but it has a total word count of 26k so it’ll keep you entertained🤭 but basically everything she writes is great I feel like each of them have singlehandedly altered my brain chemistry

One For The Money by @freedomfireflies

I am currently reading this series and I am absolutely obsessed I cannot believe I hadn’t read it before?! Smut is top tier and the dynamics have me smiling at my phone like an idiot teehee

In general, anything by these authors is amazing so you should definitely dig into their masterlists as well!😋

in the case that I’m a complete moron and you actually meant I recommend something of my own work, I would suggest you read:

nemesis with benefits

since it’s my longest series yet + it’s pretty spicy, and:

Mr. Sunshine

if you’re in the mood for something cuter

Hope this helps you along!!! Have fun reading!!🩷💞💘❤️🥰

[vanteguccir]

Writers' recommendation from vante ♡

As asked by an anon, I did a short list of my favorite writers on tumblr, who write for the Sturniolo Triplets and Harry Styles fandom, since it's the ones that I most consume in here 🩷

PS.: I didn't separate specific fics that I like because I absolutely adore all fics from the writers I've listed below, and I highly recommend all of them!! 😚 but if yall want specific fics, I can always do it as well!!

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

~ Sturniolo Triplets:

- @worldlxvlys

- @ciarasturn1

- @chaosisalwayscrying

- @soursturniolo

- @scarssturniolo

- @thugpugs4lrh

- @patscorner

- @strniohoeee

- @greatooglymooglyyy

- @strawberrysturniolo

- @evieolo

- @muwapsturniolo

- @55sturn

- @rootbeerworshiper

~ Harry Styles:

- @erodasfishtacos (my protegé 😭)

- @fkinavocado

- @satanhalsey

- @meetmymouth

- @watchmegetobsessed

- @finelinevogue

- @freedomfireflies

- @havethetimeofyourstyles

- @avatar-anna

- @harrysfolklore

- @moonchildstyles

- @lukesaprince

- @stylesharrys

- @signoferoda

- @watermelonsugacry

the HS fandom here on tumblr has the best writers on this whole app. they should be writing books at this point, I swear 😭✋🏻

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

spreading you open *

summary: literally just harry being a munch for his wife

pairing: ceo harry x reader

warnings: smut(18+), swearing, oral(f receiving)

author’s note: my king munchrry is back😁

blog navigation | masterlist | taglist

~

‘harry, we don’t have time,’ yn mumbles halfheartedly, her knees weakening with each gentle but heated kiss that her husband presses to her neck, trailing lower and lower with each one.

harry just hums against her skin with a grin playing on his lips, already knowing that they’ll be late to the dinner party they should be leaving for soon. ‘cmon, angel. on the bed. won’t even get m’self off, just need a taste of ya,” he instructs, stepping away to give her room. she wastes no more time in dropping her towel and climbing onto the bed, harry watching her every move closely as his cock twitches inside his tight dress pants.

he’d been getting ready for dinner, almost fully dressed, when yn stepped out the shower looking as delicious as ever, nothing but a towel keeping him from what’s his. there was no way he could resist embracing her, his lips on hers immediately. the kiss was so heated that yn knew exactly what she was in for, and she wasn’t complaining.

now laid out on the center of the bed, yn is eyeing harry with the same look he’s giving her, watching him unbuckle his pants in order to get comfortable enough to take care of her. he doesn’t take her pants off like she expects, and she’s a bit confused when he simply leaves them unbuttoned and climbs onto the bed and situating himself between her legs.

gripping her thighs, he folds them up toward her upper body and licks his lips before leaning down to press a kiss to where she’s needy for him. he slides his hands down and uses his thumbs to spread her open, wasting no more time before taking her swelling clit into his mouth.

yn’s hands instantly find his hair and she tangles her fingers there, her head thrown back from the pleasure. ‘h,’ she cries, pulling on his hair just a bit because she knows he likes it, the sting causing him to groan against her. the vibrations from his groan only aid her in heading to her orgasm, her legs already threatening to close around his head.

just when she thinks that it’s the most amount of pleasures she can receive at the moment, she feels him adjust himself before his fingers are pressing to her dripping entrance, two of them sinking in with ease. he immediately finds her gspot and stimulates it, the combination of both his fingers and tongue making her legs shake.

‘m so close, wait,” she gasps, the pleasure getting closer and closer to peaking. she tries to push his head away in fear of too much pleasure but he doesn’t let her, locking his arm around her thighs and pressing his free hand onto her stomach to help him.

she hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting his hips against the bed for some relief, not until she was finally cumming against his mouth with a broken sob of his name, feeling him moan against her once more as he reaches his peak as well. he keeps licking into her until she’s shuddering and pushing him away, her body twitching with aftershocks from the intense orgasm.

he climbs up the bed until he’s next to her, cuddling her and cooing sweet words to her as she comes down, accompanied by kisses all over to ground her. and then she’s calm in no time, her limbs and eyes heavy as the orgasm left her boneless.

as soon as she feels well enough to move again, she’s untangling herself from harry’s arms and standing up, grabbing his hand to drag him with her. when they’re both standing on the side of the bed, she’s pressing her lips against his, heated once again, to tease him a bit more before pulling away.

‘fuck,’ he groans, throwing his head back with a sigh. he wants nothing more than to absolutely wreck her but they don’t have time. placing his hands on his hips, he looks down to where his pants are still unbuttoned. ‘fuckin’ hell. ruined m’favorite dress pants before dinner,’ he complains. yn can do nothing but laugh at her husband, patting his cheek when he pokes out his bottom lip playfully.

‘your fault for being such a slut for me,’ she teases, dragging her hand down his chest before stepping away and walking toward the closet. he can’t help the growl that leaves his lips as she purposely puts a bit more sway and weight to her walk so that her ass jiggles with each step, his cock jumping to life once more. dinner’s gonna have to wait.

~

i think i’m back?? man idk atp😭😭

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

thank you love!!!🤍🫶🏾

harry styles recs

wardrobe malfunction | imagine, fluff | @watchmegetobsessed

intimacy | one shot, trifecta (smut, fluff, angst) | @goldengalore

people pleaser | two shot, fluff (little angsty) | @grapejuicestyless

shy | one shot, flangst | @moonchildstyles

friends before fans | imagine, flangst | @finelinevogue (love this one)

tuesday | one shot, flangst | @1d1195

happy surprise | imagine, fluff | @finelinevogue

could we not? | two shot, flangst | @be-with-me-so-happily

lunch time | imagine, fluff | @harrysmimi

i'm dating your boss, surprise | au, imagine, flangst | @harryscherrypie

destiny | imagine, angst | @freedomfireflies

something new | one shot, fluff | @gucciwins

celebrating harry's birthday | series (the whole series is good, i just reeeeaaaally like this imagine from it) | @avatar-anna

birthday girl | drabble, fluff | @justmystyles

perfect harmony | imagine, flangst | @justmystyles

rosemary | au, series | @moonchildstyles

i want forever | imagine, flangst | @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

false god | one shot, trifecta | @sleepyhollands

paparazzi nerves | imagine, flangst | @finelinevogue

love in secret | one shot, fluff (some angst) | @mydearesthrry

love and tour | one shot, fluff | @watchmegetobsessed

the final show | imagine, fluff (little angst) | @watchmegetobsessed

sweet nothing | imagine, fluff | @mydearesthrry

wild geese | two shot, angst | @meetmymouth

stopped feeling it | drabble, smut, angst (but comfort) | @meetmymouth

beautiful baker boy | au, imagine, fluff | @knowiloveyoubabe

infatuation on a mutual level | au, one shot, smut, fluff | @harrygoeswest

saying yes | imagine, fluff | @finelinevogue

afterparty | au, imagine, smutish, fluff | @chaoticloving

black ice | one shot, flangst | @theonewiththefanfics

wake up call | au, imagine, smut | @harryistheonlyoneforme

no guarantee | au, one shot, fluff, smut | @allofurlove

[babyyhoneyyyyy]

✩ 🔦 𝓥𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮🍸 ༘⋆ - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: The sole goal that Harry pursues in his existence is to secure his position as the bodyguard of the prime minister's daughter. However, he faces a singular challenge that prevents him from achieving it: his unavoidable attraction to the rebellious and charismatic young lady he is supposed to protect. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Second room is secured. I repeat. Second room is secured."

The sound of the announcement echoed in his ear, his concentration fading as he gazed out at the pool from one of the balconies.

"First floor is also secured." A deeper voice from his next companion echoed.

The summer breeze brushed against his face, causing him to squint, yet his gaze remained fixed on the pool.

"Styles. Need confirmation on the main courtyard." His surname sounded foreign through the earpiece, blurring as the sound of laughter reached his ears, sweet and soft.

"Repeat, confirmation on the main courtyard, Styles." His companion's attempt to elicit a response continued to be ignored, whether by his senses or his mind. His pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched the strawberry drink being absorbed through the thin straw. His throat felt drier than usual, and he had to close his eyes as he straightened up. He couldn't afford to be distracted any longer.

"Styles?"

He breathed in the fresh air as his eyes snapped open. His fingers brushed the small button on his earpiece as he turned away, leaving behind the hallway, the strawberry drink, and the young woman who had decided it was a good idea to remove the top of her bikini just as she had seen the man enter through the balcony.

"Main courtyard secured." He confirmed as he continued on his way in the opposite direction, ignoring the whisper in his mind urging him to turn back. But the prime minister awaited him downstairs, ready to assign the month's tasks due to his unexpected trip.

A business trip to Paris, lasting at least a week, and one in which he definitely couldn't take his daughter. The instruction was clear: "Don't lose sight of her", prompting everyone to nod before he climbed into the van with the other half of the team.

Harry scanned the faces of those present, noting the indifferent expressions of some friends and the friendly one from Carrie, his closest companion. Carrie had been the first to greet him upon arrival and, by chance, had introduced him to Audrey Coldwell.

He remembered that moment as if it were yesterday, perhaps because he had replayed it countless times in his mind since that night.

Audrey had been dining—or her version of it, with wine and cheese—sitting at the far end of the table. The first thing Harry noticed was her hair, cascading curls down her back. A throat-clearing from his companion wasn't enough to gain the young woman's attention, prompting Carrie to maintain her gaze on her before both approached.

Warm lighting filled the grand dining hall, where an excessively long wooden table dominated the room. As he approached, he began to notice the small details: the chandelier in the room's center, the shiny floor reflecting his image, the abundance of untouched food served in golden dishes, and the classic style of the house that contrasted completely with his own, which was more modern and not at all luxurious. Still, his house had been enough for him at the time, though he had to sell it after getting that job, which was one of the reasons that forced him to stay in that position.

That's precisely what forced him to draw a small smile when he found himself next to the young woman, whose face he still hadn't seen well because of the curls that fell over her face. He could only see her outfit, which consisted of a white silk nightgown over black fabric, which Harry supposed was her usual pajamas.

"Who's this?"

The question brought him sharply back to reality, filling him with discomfort. Harry blinked, confused, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly before Carrie gave him a reassuring look, then addressing the young woman looking for an answer.

"His name is Harry Styles, Miss Coldwell. He will be joining our team starting today."

Then, for the first time, Audrey's eyes met his. A contrast between deep chocolate brown and emerald green, yet despite that, the discomfort was evident in her intense gaze. Harry didn't fully understand Audrey's attitude, although his mind filled with possible explanations, like the typical arrogant behavior of people from her social class. However, he tried not to show his discomfort and growing displeasure, preferring to keep his gaze ahead rather than look at her, maintaining his expressionless face. Seconds later, it was the young woman who broke the silence.

"Did they change Alex for him?"

Harry decided not to inquire further about the matter after he and Carrie left the room once Audrey's attention turned back to the wine. Carrie also chose to remain silent, but both understood what it meant.

The answer was yes, and Harry could only speculate about the reason for 'Alex's dismissal. However, he was sure of one thing: if something similar happened to him, his fate would be humiliation and immediate replacement.

And that was something Harry was not willing to risk.

But for Audrey, the situation wasn't a risk but an adrenaline rush; a reality that Harry would discover the next morning, after their boss's departure.

The day started early at seven in the morning, but long before his alarm sounded, he heard the squeak of the door. A cry echoed down the hallway: "She's gone!" 

Still with heavy eyes, he got out of bed. Suddenly, his own door swung open without warning, revealing Carrie in what Harry supposed was her usual pajamas, consisting of sweatpants and a loose polo; however, and more disturbingly, was the strange expression on her familiar face. Realization hit him immediately, as the commotion began to spread through the hallway.

She's gone.

Audrey had left.

The rest of the day had been extremely distressing. The team scattered completely, exploring every place that seemed a plausible option for each of them. From yoga classes to university courses, passing through extracurricular activities, their favorite spots, external places like parks and streets, and even the different rooms of the house, but they found no trace of Coldwell.

And then, was there any place he hadn't considered at all?

Traffic forced him to stop in front of the church, prompting him to sigh with irony. Perhaps with a prayer, he could find her before his father found out, risking his professional career. He briefly closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, opening them again at the honking of the car behind him, urging him to move. However, his attention first focused on a line of nuns crossing the pedestrian crossing with notable patience, even after the traffic light turned green.

Harry observed their dark habits and the veils covering their heads, some tall, others short, but his gaze stopped at one in particular, notably younger. Unable to help himself, his eyes traveled her figure from head to toe.

A nun in designer shoes.

Unbelievable, yet true.

He reflected on the contemporaneity of the environment he was in, considering how common it was to associate the concept of a petite woman, with a face marked by years and the serene air of a nun. He had his aunt as an example, who had embraced religious life, which, she believed, had contributed to her own personal development. He deeply respected her and had contemplated the idea of following a similar path, and now, facing the possibility of being fired from his job, he found himself contemplating that option again. Perhaps all this time his true roots were destined for religious life. He imagined himself wearing a clerical suit with black pants, along with the alb; he even pictured himself carrying his own cross, the same one hanging around his neck at that moment.

The noise of the car behind him resonated loudly, catching his attention as he watched it move forward, the driver visibly angry and hurling insults.

Harry turned his gaze back to the church, watching the nuns' habits disappear behind a distant door.

He moved his hand to the handbrake, releasing it to press the accelerator.

Designer shoes.

Instead of the accelerator, he pressed the brake.

The elegant designer shoes no longer seemed extravagant in his mind when he remembered seeing that exact model and how he recognized them.

It was at a party in the Coldwell garden, days after he had started working there. Audrey Coldwell herself had worn those shoes, and he swore they had been custom-made for her then.

The roar of car horns behind him had never been as deafening as when he made a U-turn, regardless of the risk of hitting another vehicle, to quickly park in front of the church. He hastily locked the car and ran through the streets.

Once inside, he felt completely out of place. The atmosphere of the mass immediately intimidated him, and the looks he drew when he interrupted seemed to judge him severely. He murmured an empty apology, his heart racing and his eyes anxiously searching every corner of the church.

His eyes wandered between his wrist, the clock, and the scene before him. Finally, he identified the door through which he had seen the last nun enter. However, as he tried to move forward, an institution guard stopped him, with strict orders to allow access only to the nuns. An ironic smile crossed his mind.

If Audrey could be a nun, then he could consider being a father.

Despite his attempts to persuade the guard, he was unsuccessful. Finally, he was forced to resort to his only option: creating a distraction for the guard and finding an alternative way in. As soon as the guard looked away for a moment, he slipped inside.

A garden unfolded around him, his feet running on the grass, and the dress shoes began to discomfort him.

He walked with lighter steps as the surroundings around him seemed to empty out, only a few figures dressed in habits that stood out from his stature continued their course, seemingly unaware of what was going through his mind. His lips parted as he ran his hand through his hair, carefully adjusting it as some curls began to bother him on his forehead. Then, his hand slid toward the start of his tie, pulling slightly to loosen it. He felt the oppression increasing until, like a sign from fate, his senses sharpened to hear the sound of wood hitting something like that.

They were heels.

His attention immediately shifted back, where he recognized some of the nuns he had seen before. Beyond them, he saw the shoes he had been looking for. Without receiving any orders, his feet resumed their path, but nothing seemed to make her feel more distant. With effort, his throat was forced to act, leaving aside the little shame that remained to finally speak aloud the name that had been echoing in his mind, finally catching her attention.

Audrey's eyes widened in surprise, but just when Harry thought that would be his exit, the corners of Audrey's lips curved into a subtle smile, completely transforming her expression. With her hands together and a small bow, she caused the expression on Harry's face to change from satisfaction to anger.

Without wasting time, Audrey murmured an "amen" as she turned to head to another room.

Harry's eyes followed her; she could feel it on her back, his gaze gripping tightly and penetrating her very being. Perhaps that's why she had chosen the church as her hiding place and not somewhere else.

Purification was what she had in mind.

Her footsteps echoed in the deserted halls, the stillness marked by the time of day. Most of the nuns were at the public mass being held at that moment.

Although the church wasn't her usual place, she had visited enough to know the corners that nuns typically didn't access until a certain time, especially during mass.

It was precisely in that same room where she had found her outfit for the day: the custodian's area, fortunately vacant during the weekend.

Finally, she reached the door. As she attempted to close it behind her, a hand forcefully landed on the wood, stopping it and entering the space beside her.

"What are you doing?"

The rough tone in Harry's hoarse voice startled her suddenly, aware of her recent predicament as they both crowded into the cramped space near the shelf filled with cleaning products.

"Do you realize how many people are looking for you right now?" His body pressed against hers, the proximity accentuated by the annoyed expression on his face. "You've got everyone scouring every corner of the city."

Audrey smiled wider as she watched Harry's cheeks turn rosier, spreading across his face as he stared at her intensely. She wondered if he noticed his blush, if it was due to his own discomfort or if, like her, he was feeling the heat rise in that confined space.

"Let's go," he declared firmly, taking her arm, which she immediately withdrew.

"Or what?" Her voice barely whispered but was audible enough for both. Her brown eyes seized the silence to examine the face so close to hers. With a dark look towards her, furrowed brow, lips slightly parted seeking air as his breath became uneven.

It was the same expression Audrey had dreamed of before running away from home.

"Or I'll tell your father."

The threat seemed amusing to her.

"Tell him," she replied. "Then he'll realize how inefficient you are at doing your job."

The cold treatment made Harry roll his eyes in exasperation. He was already used to Audrey's bouts of arrogance, but this time, his patience wasn't what it had been on previous occasions.

"I'll see what I do."

"I don't think it's appropriate for you to talk to me like that," she replied.

"And how do you expect me to talk to you when you've got me chasing you through a fucking church?"

Audrey slightly arched her eyebrows at his exasperated response, making Harry avoid her gaze. Even though he could feel her eyes fixed on him.

He desperately needed to take a breath, and he took a few seconds to do so, but when he finally commanded his feet to move to leave, whether with her or without her, it seemed as though his senses had somehow disconnected.

His duty forced him to return to her side, no matter what.

But she made it so hard.

"Even more inappropriate," she suddenly declared, breaking the silence that had filled the place. "Cursing in a church." Her heel softly echoed on the polished floor as she stepped forward, feeling the brush of Harry's nose against her face. "What other inappropriate things do you plan to do here, Harry?"

Her name resonated in a whisper that tormented him, swirling in his mind like a treacherous melody. He didn't know how else to feel, mixing the rapid beating of his heart from the growing adrenaline, the desperation, and, worse, the temptation.

He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing to see only darkness, but reality hit him as his other senses awakened, and Audrey's sweet perfume permeated his being.

He opened his eyes.

"Take that off so we can leave," he murmured again, and to his surprise, the young woman nodded.

"As you wish."

Audrey could see the frown on Harry's face before her hands lowered her habit. The silk slipped off her shoulders and body with a smooth motion, revealing the black babydoll and matching set she wore underneath. The noticeable change in Harry's breathing brought a smile to her face. She could feel his breath, with a hint of mint, that caught her attention. Audrey glanced down for a moment, just long enough to pick up the uniform that had fallen to the floor, then lifted her head to meet the green eyes that were watching her.

Seconds passed with unsettling slowness as she rose. Audrey could perceive every detail of his face accentuated by the dim light, with a curl falling over his forehead, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. In that moment, Audrey wondered if he was breathing properly.

"Do you do this often?" she heard him ask when he was facing her again. She tilted her head to one side, pretending not to understand. "Seducing your bodyguards."

The answer was already reflected on Audrey's face when her eyes sparkled as she responded.

"Only the ones I find interesting."

Harry couldn't pinpoint the exact moment his heart began to pound, but with that response, he couldn't help but imagine the same situation with someone else, causing his steady breathing to falter.

"Now I understand why Alex found it so hard to keep his job."

The confusion on her face vanished instantly when she felt the push of Harry's body against hers, finally perceiving him above her, though unable to yet savor the mint taste of his mouth. Harry chose another route, bringing his lips to her neck, allowing his saliva to taste the sweet perfume, which in his mouth turned bitter, but this lacked importance when Audrey's soft moans echoed directly in his ear.

Desperation and compassion manifested in his hands as he kept her in contact with his skin, his fingers gently gripping her hips and raising her leg to bring her even closer to him. The friction of her underwear against his pants was starting to become uncomfortable, and as his tongue slid down her neck, the urgency to calm the throbbing in her most intimate area intensified. To her surprise, Harry seemed to perceive it immediately, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Audrey's eyes, filled with pleading, seized his face. For a moment, she believed their tongues would finally intertwine; but soon she realized her mistake as she watched Harry kneel. Now, she was leaning against the wall and one of the cleaning shelves, while Harry, from the ground, pressed his face against her skin.

The sound of her own breathing filled her ears as Harry's fingers moved over her panties with agonizing slowness. She felt his lips traveling over her skin, unsure if they were trying to silence her or provoke her to speak more. His tongue explored forbidden corners, while his fingers maintained a continuous game of approaching and retreating.

Then, her hand descended to grab his hair once more, urging him to act, only for him to react faster and hold her back. Instead of pushing her away as Audrey had thought, Harry took her hand, guiding her fingers over his, and with a swift motion, he pulled her panties aside, exposing her intimacy.

Forcefully, her fingers clung to the fabric as Harry's touch focused on the exact spot where she needed it most. Audrey felt his breath on her, but not with the intensity she desired, leading her to look at him with narrowed eyes for a brief moment. He looked up with a half-smile.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"You're so wet," Harry murmured, letting his words seep into Aubrey's senses. "Is it for me?"

She quickly nodded, exhaling a deep sigh.

"Words." Harry ordered in a rough voice, sending a shiver down Aubrey's spine. Swallowing with difficulty, she responded, "Only for you."

It was then that Aubrey noticed how the amusement in those green eyes transformed into the itch of his own lust in the blink of an eye.

"I'll make sure it stays that way from now on."

With only a warning that would echo in her mind forever, she felt Harry's tongue on her. A singular suction, a desperate pleasure. His lips pressed against her, his saliva mixing with her own fluids, and she heard him sucking and licking in perfect harmony, making the sound itself fuel her arousal.

She then thought about the possibility of living only from that pleasure, from the delight Harry provided her, from his muffled sounds between her thighs, from how he molded her ass while bringing her clitoris closer to his mouth, and from the way he looked at her from his kneeling position.

She could even live from a photo of him just as he was at that moment. So unreal.

The adrenaline increased as her fingers brushed against anything they could touch while she tried to keep her balance. She stumbled upon more cleaning items and even a small book, whose title she avoided reading so as not to remember the fate that had been imposed on her.

It was a direct ticket to hell, which at that moment was worth it for a small slice of paradise.

As the heat invaded her cheeks, she felt the space around her shrink. Her moans escaped her lips, and in a desperate attempt to contain them, she pressed her own hand against her mouth, biting down hard on her palm, hoping the pain would mitigate her desire, though it only seemed to intensify it.

Suddenly, feeling Harry's fingers joining his tongue inside her, entering with two dry fingers that, once they crossed the barrier, became wet in her essence, a muffled moan escaped her lips, followed by an abrupt silence around them. Harry had stopped.

"N-no, no." Audrey's words barely escaped her mouth as her dry throat burned, and the man kneeling before her locked his green eyes with hers. Audrey swallowed hard.

Harry chose silence over speaking, lowering his gaze. In a movement that escaped Audrey's sight, his free hand slid towards her panties, pulling them down until they fell around her heels. Once Audrey managed to lift each foot to free herself from them, Harry picked them up with his fingers.

"Open."

Harry's harsh voice filled the silence as he brought the panties to Audrey's lips. With that single command, a jolt of electricity coursed through her body, and she obeyed, parting her lips, feeling the lace brush against her tongue and gag her.

Without warning, the fingers reunited inside her, this time three of them, moving swiftly and adjusting to her contours. Harry's tongue swirled around her clit as if he were in a personal competition, and perhaps he was, challenging himself to see how quickly he could bring the woman, who struggled to make no sound in a sacred place, to the highest point of pleasure.

Whether it was the excitement, the adrenaline of being discovered, the sensation of Harry's tongue, or her own skill, Aubrey finally reached that moment, feeling the tension spread to her cheeks, making them burn just like her body. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her grip on the shelf tightened, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

Her cry of release was trapped in her underwear, wet from the mix of her saliva and parted lips. But as if that wasn't enough, she soon felt a more intense pressure in her mouth when Harry's hand firmly covered her outcry.

Her eyelids finally lifted as her breathing began to stabilize, and when she thought she couldn't take it any longer, she found Harry's gaze fixed on her.

In the dim light of the room, his face emerged clearly, his hair tousled from her fingers that had run through it, with his curls spilling over his forehead, and his lips slightly parted, still wet from the fluids she had left on them.

A sigh escaped her lips without warning. Though she wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or from the new wave of heat from having that sight right in front of her.

In one last effort to uncover her true desire, Aubrey mustered the courage to move forward and firmly grasp Harry's neck, pressing him against her body once more, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against her stomach. But before her hands could slide further down, he quickly stopped her.

"There will be another day when you can make it up to me," he murmured, causing her eyebrows to rise, mixing surprise and disappointment, although that feeling quickly faded. Did this mean there would be a next time? Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Go to the car."

The command had almost turned into a question. The confidence in Harry's gaze faded before Aubrey left the room, already changed and seemingly more presentable, no longer in the nun outfit and dressed in clothes that truly reflected her personality.

"I'll go to the car," she confirmed as Harry's hand squeezed her wrist. "I have no other church to take refuge in," a crooked smile began to form on her face. Harry swallowed hard. "Or any other janitor's closet to dirty."

Finally, he nodded, his cheeks reddened, which contrasted with the attitude he usually displayed. It was fascinating to observe those small changes in him for her. Every time, it became more intriguing to see him.

"Oh, I almost forgot. About Alex..." Aubrey bit her lips, struggling to hold back a smile that threatened to appear at Harry's immediate reaction. "You would have had more chances with him than I did. Alex is gay."

With those words, she turned. A mischievous expression forming on her face as she saw his green eyes widen.

As she exited the room and re-entered the green space, several men dressed in black suits quickly passed by her. She averted her gaze, avoiding looking at them, just before hearing a new shout behind her.

"Catch him!"

Before she could react, she felt a tug on her arm that forced her to move quickly. Harry's fingers had gripped her again, and once more, adrenaline coursed through her body as they both hurriedly fled from the church.

[beescake]

EVIL FUCKED UP KARKAT..HEH...JUST A LOOK INTO MY SICK AND TWISTED MIND...

have u read

Thoroughbred - egomaniac - Homestuck [Archive of Our Own]

literally my #1 fave most beloved dvkt fic heheh thanks for the opening! ive been itching for the chance to recc it (even dvkt antis 🫵 ur gonna like this one kisskiss give it a chance)

[gurugirl]

i need some good thigh clenching worthy smut. any recs 😁

I am so behind on so many fics I'm just gonna name drop and you pick what you want. Read the warnings to find out if there's smut - and if so you are guaranteed a good ride! Also check out my #hs fic rec tag!

@0nlythrowharrybeaux @1800titz @cherryjuiceblues @cupid-styles @finelinefae @fkinavocado @freedomfireflies @harrysonlylover @jarofstyles @justlemmeadoreyou @lukesaprince @smuttyaf @stylesharrys @swiftmendeshoran @sykostyles @watchmegetobsessed @wrongplacerighttime

There are TONS of amazing writers out there! I can't name them all but do go through my fic rec tags and check out everything there.

Enjoy love!!

xoxo

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

baby enemies to lovers stories? i loveeee them, dont know whats wrong with me bestie

nothing is wrong with you babe, you just have taste!

I'm a sucker for a good enemies to lovers story too so dkjhjshdf I'm so happy for this! Anyway let's begin!

My forever and always favorite enemies to lovers story is "404" by my beloved @freedomfireflies When I say I need 404!harry, I couldn't mean it more! I had a dream about him for real 😭 It's so well written and you can literally feel the tension between the two characters. 404!harry is my baby and I want to put him in my pocket and have him there forever. It's everything you could ask for in a story with that trope. 🙌 😍 (personal fav: a-mazing and jealous - I was on my knees)

Also please do yourself a favor and read @harrys-titties "Harry's a dick and Y/N hates him for it". It's really amazing! The way she built their relationship was precious 🥰 And I loved that Harry's best friend was Sarah, it was a beautiful touch. When you will start reading it, you will find yourself unable to put it down. (um also I have the "y/n and harry hate each other, until they don't" in my "to read list" and I'm sure it will be amazing)

Additionally "grumpy h" by my favorite @cupid-styles is *chef's kiss* seriously. I really liked how their dynamic began to change and they were so soft for each other 😇 so cute 🥰 Oh and I almost forgot it! "You're my last shot" is an enemies to lovers story too and believe me it's so sweet, I loved it. I was reading the blurbs until 3 AM in the morning hehe 😇

Of course it's not a proper rec list for enemies to lovers stories if I don't mention "aster" by @moonchildstyles ! It is really good! Like reallyyy good😍 It's the cutest thing ever hdshgjghshjg Now I'm thinking about it, I will reread it 😍 I was obsessed with this the first time I read it.

Also "Ballerina Y/N and Ballerina Harry" by @jawllines ! Oh my God, it's so good! Actually I can't express how good it is, words aren't enough! I just love it. I started rereading it actually the other day and I couldn't stop myself. I have a soft spot for it 😇 Their chemistry is everything! 😍 The characters are amazing and Y/N is a queen! Also Ballerina!Harry is exactly my type so 😇

@be-with-me-so-happily has a great enemies to lovers story too! "Not what we bargained for" is freaking good 😍 Had a great time reading it!

Oh and of course "Harry is Y/N's producer & she doesn't like him" and "Y/N & Harry kind of hate each other but have to walk together in their friends' wedding party" by @0nlythrowharrybeaux ! Her stories are so addictive 😍 Her writting has an incredible flow 😍

One last thing: it's not actually a story but @justlemmeadoreyou ' headcanons are crazy and I guarantee you that the mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons are so f*cking hot 😱check them out 😍 (also she's making a series based on them, part 1 is out and I'm telling you it's so good! Cant' wait for the next part! - it may be a friends with benefits trope but they started as enemies, they didn't like each other much so yeah that's why I put it here)

I'm 100% sure I'm forgetting many other stories I would love to include in this but I can't think of anything else right now sorry 😭 If something else comes up to my mind, I will add it ❤️ Enjoy ❤️

P.S always grateful to the authors 😊

[smuttyaf]

I Hate You

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞

wc: 5.4k

“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”

That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.

You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.

“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.

Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.

So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.

But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.

You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.

You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.

“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.

Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.

Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.

White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.

“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.

“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.

“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.

“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.

You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.

“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.

She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.

However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.

“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.

As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.

“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.

“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.

“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.

“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.

“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.

Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.

For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.

“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.

“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.

“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.

“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.

“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.

You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.

Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.

But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.

Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.

“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“

“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.

Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.

You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.

“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.

“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.

“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.

With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.

“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.

“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.

“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.

“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.

“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.

“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.

“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.

“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.

“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.

“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.

“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.

“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.

“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.

“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.

“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.

“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.

“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”

“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”

The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.

“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.

“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.

“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.

You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.

The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.

Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.

You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.

“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.

“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.

His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.

His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.

Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.

“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.

“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.

His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?

Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.

Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.

His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.

Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.

The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.

You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.

You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.

Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.

The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.

“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.

Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.

Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.

The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.

You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.

Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.

“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.

Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.

Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.

“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.

Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.

The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.

The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.

“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.

You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.

“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.

“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.

Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.

“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.

His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.

“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.

“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.

The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.

“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.

Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?

“You’ll just have to wait and see…”

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

my moodboard for @avonne-writes latest fic in their mota highschool au Broken Things

I highly recommend reading this one! Heed the tag warnings though people just in case!

Listening to this song while making this and re-reading this made me shed a few tears 😭