#the lives of harry lime

[gurugirl]

Use Me Up | boyfriend's best friend!h

Originally posted on Patreon!

Summary: Harry's your boyfriend's best friend and he's very hard to resist.

Word Count: 7,072

Warning: smut, cheating, lying, alcohol consumption

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Look at him. Dark curls, soft green eyes, broad shoulders. All fit and tattooed with that dirty smirk aimed in your direction. It’d been like that all night. When no one was looking his eyes were on you.

Harry Styles. The object of desire for so many women. But the problem for you was that he was your boyfriend’s best friend. You should have been off-limits. He shouldn’t have even been taking part in your daydreams.

You rolled your eyes at him as Colin knocked his beer over.

Everyone had a couple too many drinks at that point. Your boyfriend, the worst off.

“Here,” you leaned down and righted the spilled can to halt the beer from pouring out.

Colin fell back into the couch and laughed as you got up to take the nearly empty can to the trash.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with that!”

“I actually think it’s time for a little water,” you countered.

Walking into the kitchen you took a breath and grabbed two cups for water. You needed some as well. You’d been hitting the strawberry lime seltzers kind of hard since you arrived at Ivy’s and you were feeling the alcohol.

“Need help?”

You turned to look over your shoulder as you shut off the faucet.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle this,” you laughed as you raised your hands, a cup of water in each.

Harry reached into the fridge to grab himself another beer, “All right. Was just being nice. You done drinking for the night?”

“Probably. Colin is for sure done. Gonna have to carry him home I think.”

“I’ll help you. I can tell he’s well past his limit. There’s no way you’re going to have an easy go of it with him. He’s like Gumby when he gets drunk.”

You laughed and Harry licked his lips as he watched you. You hated (but you loved it) when he licked his lips while he was looking at you. It elicited memories of the not-so-long-ago past.

. .

You arrived at Colin’s a little early but you knew Harry’d be there and he’d let you in until Colin showed up.

He got you a soda from the fridge and you both went into the living room where he showed you their new record player.

“It’s got great sound and check this out,” he pulled out an album and placed it over the turntable showing you how the tone arm lowered automatically and cycled the vinyl around to the perfect spot to begin at the first song.

“Oh, that’s cool!” You watched as he clicked a button and sound started playing through the speakers. It was an old popular 70s rock song, “The sound quality really is good.”

He snapped his fingers and began to move his hips as he grinned at you so you placed your soda down and mimicked him, swaying and laughing as you snapped your fingers.

Behind Harry’s grin, you saw something else. The way he licked his lips, his eyes traveled over your curves, and he slunk in closer as he moved to the music- it held some kind of intensity that you weren’t sure how to work out. One thing was for sure; Harry was a flirt and your boyfriend was not home.

“You’re cute,” Harry said it so flippantly as he jutted his chin up and kept his eyes on yours.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah right…”

But he did this thing that had you feeling a slurry of scorching lava under your fingertips as he bit into his bottom lip with his eyelids drooped gently, pupils winding over your hips while you continued to move and he pulled your hand into his, redirecting your flow until you were practically dancing in his arms.

“You know you’re cute. What are you doing dating Colin anyway?”

His hand wound over your hip as he kept his eyes on yours.

“I…” you laughed and shook your head. You weren’t sure what he was doing but it had you reeling. His heavy presence and deep voice, the music lulling you into surrender, his pretty bright eyes, that evil grin… It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d flirted with you in private.

“You’re too good for him, Y/n,” he spoke smoothly, his face nearing yours and his voice dripping with lusty deception.

“I doubt that, Harry,” you spoke just above a whisper as he slithered around you until his hands were holding your hips and your back was against his chest. You knew it was wrong. You knew you should have stopped but you didn’t want to.

And when you felt his breath on the back of your ear and he pressed his hips against your bum you softly gasped but made no move to stop him. He was too close and his lips were practically brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept swaying you in step with his movements, hips glued to your backside, and then he moaned. The sound vibrating off your neck and making goosebumps rise up on your skin.

You closed your eyes and settled your hands over his when he let out another graveled moan into your ear, “You like this don’t you? Need more attention from Colin than he can give you…”

It was true. You were a bit needy while Colin was a bit cold, aloof. But it’d always been that way with you two and you’d settled and gotten used to the way he was. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss attention. And Harry was suddenly filling in the small gaps left behind from Colin’s apathy.

But the moment you heard the keys in the door, Harry moved away from you just as deftly as he’d pulled you against his chest and acted like nothing had happened. 

. .

You forced Colin to drink his whole cup of water and by the time he’d finished he was already half asleep. It was time to go and Harry accompanied you.

“You don’t have to help,” you said as the three of you climbed into the back of a taxi together.

“Look at him, Y/n. What makes you think he’s gonna be able to walk to the door on his own? You certainly can’t carry him. Besides, I live at the same house and it was time for me to go as well. Saves us money anyway, yeah?”

You nodded. He had a point you supposed.

You were smushed between Harry and Colin in the backseat. Colin was like a limp noodle against you while Harry was warm and solid and somehow he took up so much more space than you imagined he would.

“You’re gonna stay over, right?” Harry looked down at you.

“I figured I would, yeah. It’s not a problem?”

Harry chuckled and looked out his window before putting his big palm over his thigh, knocking against your knee, “Of course it’s not a problem. I love it when you’re over.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off his pinky finger which was nudged against your jeans. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just because the space was so tight but you certainly didn’t mind it. Looking over at your boyfriend his mouth was dropped open and his eyes were closed. Out cold.

“He’s not waking up for the rest of the night,” Harry spoke quietly, his lips aimed toward your ear.

You gulped when Harry shifted the slightest, pressing his side into yours, and began moving his hand over his jeans-clad thigh, his pinky brushing over your own jeans-clad thigh.

When you arrived at the house, Harry pulled Colin out of the backseat and lifted him into his arms bridal style. You laughed at the sight and followed the men toward the door.

“Keys are in my front left pocket,” Harry said as he jutted his hips out and looked at you with a smirk.

You sighed and slid your fingers into his pocket, which was a bit tight, but you pushed in until you felt the metal and looped your finger into one of the key rings to pull at it.

Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth, “There you go, Y/n. Just like that.” Harry said it as if you were doing something naughty to him.

Unlocking the door you stepped in and held it open for Harry, who walked past you and took his best friend to his bed, laying his head on the pillow and then removed his boots. You watched from the doorway of Colin’s room as Harry took care of him, light shining into his room from the hallway.

Harry grunted when he pulled the last boot off and then got up to leave the room, closing the door behind himself.

You pointed toward the doorknob, “I’m probably just gonna call it a night actually.”

Harry pressed his lips together, hiding the grin that was trying to take over his features, “Nahh… stay up a little longer with me. Don’t go to bed yet.”

It was a terrible idea. You weren’t being forced to follow him away from Colin’s room. You weren’t being manipulated or deceived. You were curious, though. Wondered what might happen if given the chance.

You both had a bottle of water as you sat on the stool near the record player and Harry sat on the couch across from you, his legs spread apart.

“Why you all the way over there?” He licked his goddamn lips again as he looked at you with what could only be described as bedroom eyes; that half-lidded, sultry gaze.

 “I don’t know. I just sat here is all,” you shrugged and capped your water bottle before placing it on the floor by your feet.

“You got work tomorrow?” He asked as he crossed an ankle over his knee before his ring-clad fingers ran up and down his thick thighs.

“No. I don’t work Sundays. What about you?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope. Means we can stay up as late as we want. Colin won’t wake up til afternoon anyway. When he gets like this he’s a log.”

You laughed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen him like this a few times. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you put a record on,” he gestured toward the turn table next to you.

You squatted down to go through the records, tracing your fingers over the dust jackets until you found one that had a mix of popular 70s songs, “You guys have a lot of 70s music.”

Harry crouched down next to you to see which album you were looking at, “S’cause these are all used and plus 70s music is pretty good, yeah?” He grinned at you, taking the record from your hands and stood up, “Want this one?”

You nodded and watched him put the vinyl on the record player and then hit the button for the music to begin. The song that started to play sounded like something instrumental at first but then you heard the first line Got a black magic woman…

Harry turned to look down at you and began bobbing his head and rolling his shoulders, moving to the music. You laughed at him. He was being a little goofy with his movements but the dimpled grin on his face was evidence that he was trying to make you laugh. You swung your arms then raised them over your head and spun around with your hips swaying.

You and Harry kept moving to the song and then he was behind you, singing the words to the song when you felt him moving in step with you, “She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me… Don’t turn your back on me baby…”

You laughed as he sang just loud enough for you to hear his raspy voice in your ear.

“Is my singing funny to you,” you felt his hand on your arm, nudging you back toward him.

You turned to look back at him over your shoulder, “You’re just funny, Harry. You’re being goofy.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m goofy?” He held your arm as he pressed his chest into your back and continued singing, “Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks…Don’t turn your back on me, baby… You just might pick up my magic sticks…”

You moved with the music and couldn’t help the cheesy grin on your face as he brought a hand down to your hip while his other stayed wrapped around your upper arm.

He sang his breathy words into your ear and it made your skin to heat but the way he was holding you against his body had your resolve crumbling. Not that you had much resolve to begin with.

“Yes, you got your spell on me, baby… Turnin’ my heart into stone… I need you so bad magic woman, I can’t leave you alone…”

You moaned, the top row of your teeth jammed into your bottom lips and he squeezed at your hip as his lips grazed against your ear.

You knew this would happen. When you were looking through the albums you wondered if he’d get up and dance with you. If he’d pull you into his arms and seduce you like he nearly did that time before. Or any of the other times he flirted with you or touched your skin, or whispered compliments into your ear when Colin wasn’t paying attention. There was only so much a girl could take when a man like Harry was coming on to her.

And who would ever know?

You raised your arms and drew your hands to the back of his neck as he continued swaying you in his arms, his crotch glued to your bum and you felt every bit of him pressed into you. His hot exhale on your neck was damp on your skin just before his pink lips found your flesh.

It sent a crackle of electricity through your spine as he began to kiss your soft skin slowly and when the song changed you found yourself being turned in his arms, all blurry and hot and thirsting when you felt his mouth smeared against yours.

He cradled the back of your head as his lips pressed plush kisses to your mouth and then his tongue slid over yours.

You’d stopped moving altogether and instead just stood next to the record player as the music played and you made out with Harry. If Colin walked in you didn’t know if you’d be able to even stop then. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his hands were rewiring your brain chemistry and all you wanted was him.

A cracked moan fell from your chest as Harry pulled away, his eyes locked on yours as he tugged at you, moving you toward his bedroom.

The Bill Withers song was still playing in the background as you were led to his room.

I want to spread the news… That if it feels this good getting used… Oh, you just keep on using me… Until you use me up…

He shut his door and the sound of the song was muffled but when he put his hands on your hips and his soft lips found yours you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled at him until you were both on his bed, limbs tangled and mouths wound together.

He rolled to his back and pulled you over his legs so you were straddling his thighs on top of him as you kept kissing and groaning into his mouth.

You could feel how hard he was in his jeans as you rolled your pelvis gently down and he hissed, “Keep doing that and I’m not gonna be able to stop, Y/n.”

You laughed into his mouth and pulled away to look down at him, “What are we doing, Harry?”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he kept a hold of your hips, “We’re doing something very bad is what we’re doing.”

Biting your lip you looked at his kiss-swollen mouth and back into his eyes, “We shouldn’t though, right? This is bad.”

He licked his lips, “We shouldn’t. But who’s gonna stop us?” His big hands moved down to your thighs. “What if it’s just our little secret? No one has to know.”

You dropped your lips back down over his in an unspoken agreement. No one ever had to know. It’d be your dirty little secret. A naughty indulgence to never be spoken of again.

When you felt his fingers smooth up to the bottom hem of your shirt you felt him tugging it upward. Halting the movement of your mouth against his you sat up and shucked it from your torso. His hands immediately found your tits as you unhooked the back of your bra and the moment your nipples were bare to him he sat up, one arm winding around your low back as his hand cupped your fleshy breast and he ducked to pull it into his mouth.

Wet saliva coated each of your tits as Harry wove his mouth back and forth on your skin and your nipples. You slid your fingers into his hair and moaned as he leaned you back further until your back was on his mattress and he was hovering over you, undoing your jeans button.

You looked up at him and pulled at his t-shirt. You wanted to see more of him. You’d seen his bare chest before. You’d seen him in just running shorts a few times. The man was ungodly. Tattoos, chiseled pecs, and soft abs with masculine hair scattered over his chest. Strong arms that could crush and thighs that allowed him the sort of endurance you were sure would come in handy that very night. He was broad and dense, heavy and sexy as fuck.

When his skin was on view you ran your hands over his shoulders and down to his pecs as he began to undo his own jeans. You quickly pushed your fingers into your waistband and yanked your jeans down your legs until you were just left in stretchy red boyshorts.

Harry groaned and kicked his jeans off and then crawled back over you, carefully fitting himself between your thighs and laying his hips against yours, his hard cock, hidden by the thin layer of his boxers, rested over your pussy as he slowly rocked himself down. You lifted your hips upward to feel his girth and the heat of him between your legs.

Dry humping. You hadn’t done it since your first year of college. Guys tended to go right for getting naked and getting something wet as soon as possible.

Though, technically Harry was getting something wet. Between his tongue on your lips and your pussy secreting arousal with every nudge of his dick against your clit there was nothing dry about dry humping in that moment. Even his boxers were getting wet the longer you two went at it.

He began to move himself down your body, taking more time to lavish your breasts with his tongue and his lips before he licked into your belly button triggering a giggle to bubble out of your mouth. He placed his hands on your hips and dug his fingers under the elastic band at the top of your underwear and began to pull at them, to which you lifted your hips so he could tug them off.

Smoothing his big palms up the outside of your thighs to your hips he kept his eyes on the glistening space between your legs and puffed out a breath, “This is all mine tonight?” He looked up at you and it was dripping hedonistic lust as his thumbs slid down over the soft flesh of your pelvis.

You nodded and breathed out a yes before he slowly poked his tongue out to lick his lips and lowered his mouth to the space next to his thumb, a warm kiss smushed into your skin before it sliced a damp path inward to your mons. You were spinning and blubbering under him as he gripped onto the underside of your thigh and held you apart.

Your body was trembling before he even laid his tongue over your pussy but when he finally pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to your clit you could have just perished right then. You balled up the blanket under you in your fists as he began to run his tongue up and down your wet pussy.

You sputtered out a string of curses and rolled your hips up when he slid his fingers over your entrance and prodded in.

“Mmm…” he lifted his face to look up at you, “Y/n… you’re so wet for me. Gonna need to sneak tastes of your pussy anytime Colin isn’t around.”

You couldn’t respond other than to moan his name and thread your fingers into his hair when he reattached his lips.

There was something about the way Harry did it, the way he licked at your pussy and kissed your clit, the way he drove his fingers into your cunt and moaned over you that was so sultry and hungry… it was like he needed it, like he was desperate for it. For you.

The house was quiet. It was lucky Colin slept like the dead when he got drunk like that or you’d have to worry about him hearing. But as it was, Harry’s bedroom was filled with the sound of something lewd and wet and achy. Moans coming from you and from him, your pussy getting worked by his fingers and his mouth, the shift of bodies over blankets and the subtle creaking of his bed as he dug into your pussy with more fervor.

 And you really tried not thinking about the way Colin did it versus how Harry was doing it but you were amazed at what a little enthusiasm could feel like. Colin ate you out, sure, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t a man with a primal need to make you feel good and stake some kind of claim on you. Colin’s method was more like a means to an end. A way to get you nice and wet so he could stick his dick inside of you.

Harry’s method was an animalistic craving. He wasn’t eating you out nicely with a soft tongue and a few slurps. No. This was something else. He was devouring you. Sloppy and sopping. He dragged his tongue over you like it was his fucking job. The one arm he had wrapped around you, was anchoring you to his mouth. You couldn’t escape him if you wanted. This man wasn’t taking it easy. When he lifted you slightly, he scooted in closer and removed his fingers from your pussy and licked up the wet spots on your inner thighs and down your bum before he spread you back open with two of his fingers again and got back to ravaging your clit.

You had to release his hair and go back to gripping the blankets as you felt your body wash away into the atmosphere, floating and buzzing and melting as you lay helpless under his weight and his tongue.

You were certain it was going to be a mess when he was done with you. There wasn’t anything dry between your legs nor on his face. The heat and the moisture rose until there was nothing left for you to do but come. And come and come…

He had his fingers pressed into your front wall massaging your g-spot as he sucked and drew your clit into his mouth. You couldn’t stop shaking or crying for what felt like minutes upon minutes.

But then it was too much and you squeaked a laugh as you tried lifting and pulling away but when you pushed at his forehead he swatted you away and grunted, not letting up on the doggish way he was eating you.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Harry!” You bellowed into his room and tried closing your legs and moving to roll to your side but he had you pinned down and it seemed only to egg him on. His eyes flitted up to yours and in warning to keep still, not that you had much choice. He wasn’t budging nor letting you pull away from his mouth as he continued fucking you with those long fingers and lapping all around your hot, pulsing clit.

But then you saw the slight smirk as he lifted for air before he dove down again and slid his tongue quickly over your clit and the sensitive, too-much feeling turned into a liquid ache and then desire as you felt you second orgasm begin to prick and burst until it was forced out of you like a torture method. Come or else…

So you came again. Not against your will but not by your own accord. It was automatic. You couldn’t stop it from happening.

You were drifting into the ether when he finally, fucking finally, pulled his mouth and his fingers away. When you opened your eyes he was smirking down at you, like he was proud of the state he’d left you in.

“What?” You croaked out as your chest heaved violently.

“I’m serious. Gonna need to do that to you as often as possible. Whenever Colin’s not looking. Damn you’re hot, Y/n. Fuck…” he ran his hands over your sides and up your torso to your nipples where he circled over them with his thumbs, “Wish I’d gotten to you first.”

You pushed yourself to sit up, “You… he’s your best friend, though. I mean… I just think…” you huffed, not fully having your wits about you after what he’d just done to you, “God… I wouldn’t be able to say no, but this is bad, Harry. Don’t you think this should be a one-time thing? Like, we should never do this again, right?”

You watched him lick his lips and swallow and that’s when you noticed he had your arousal down his neck. The guy had gone in so intensely on your pussy that you dripped down his neck. You supposed he had reason to be proud.

“We’ll see, won’t we? I’m not a great friend, I’ll admit. But you’re not a great girlfriend either are you? Doing this behind his back the way we are… it’s bad, but fuck if I don’t want to steal you away from him.”

You puffed a laugh through your nose and ran a hand over your face. You couldn’t believe you were cheating in the first place. It was insane. You weren’t a cheater.

But actually… you were a cheater. You were lying in your boyfriend’s best friend’s bed completely naked and freshly zonked from two orgasms. You were absolutely a cheater.

Harry pulled at your thigh, dragging you closer to him and he cradled the back of your head with his hand and kissed you so deeply you nearly forgot Colin’s name for a moment. You could feel his erection, stiff and hot against your inner thigh and you were compelled to run your hand over his boxers to grip him and feel it in your hand.

You gasped into his mouth and parted from the kiss to look down at the monster you were holding in your palm. Looking back up at Harry with your lips parted in lust you were suddenly hyper-aware that the man you were in bed with was going to fuck you with that thing and if he was as good with his cock as he was with his mouth… you were surely doomed.

“What is it?” He asked you with hooded eyes and a syrupy, deep, lusty voice. He knew what it was. The man was more than aware of the kind of advantage he had in that area.

You squeezed around him let your palm travel up the length of it over his boxers and pressed over his tip, “Let me see it.”

He grinned at you silently as he pulled at his boxers and brought them down, his thick shaft lobbing out, heavy and stiff. You let out a moan and moved back, getting to your knees and holding him at the root against his pubic hair before tonguing over him and drawing your saliva down the length of him.

Harry hissed as he leaned back, palms flat against his mattress as he watched you suck on him for a moment, lips working over his tip and wetting him with your spit. You moaned again and pulled off of him, “God, Harry. Fuck…”

He held the back of your head as you dipped down again and took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gorging on the taste and feel of him. It was smooth and hot against your tongue. He was wide, bulbous. But you couldn’t help the way just the look and feel of his cock had your already weeping pussy flutter and clench at the thought of him driving into you with it.

“You like that, don’t you? God, you’re supposed to mine, Y/n. Oh fuck that feels good…”

Your insides were feeling too hollow, your walls straining together to feel something that would take up the empty space. You popped off of his tip, saliva dripping down your chin, “Fuck me. Please.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, “Already? You don’t need a minute to recover? You that greedy, baby?”

“I am right now,” you pulled at his boxers to get rid of them. Harry put his hands into the band of his underwear and took them off completely.

“Just right now? So tomorrow we’ll go back to normal then,” he crawled over you, making your back hit the mattress as his hand found your tit, “Pretend this never happened and never do it again, yeah?”

You panted and reached around his back to pull him down, “I don’t know…” you whined and bucked your hips up, “Just… right now is all I can think about. Please…”

“A bit cockdumb huh? You’re not thinking straight, are you?”

You scrunched your face and pouted, “What? Just fuck me, Harry!”

He grinned at you and shook his head in disbelief, “No condom then?”

You’d forgotten. You were always so good about using condoms and being the one on top of that decision with Colin. Only a few times did you ever let him fuck you without one and it was only when you were 100% sure it was not during your fertile window and he wasn’t allowed to come inside you anyway.

“Fuck…” you breathed out and whined as you raised your hips upward, pressing your wet pussy against his cock, “Just fuck me. I don’t even care right now. I’m gonna lose my mind…”

Harry grabbed your chin and his eyes pierced into you as he spoke, “Are you on birth control?”

You shook your head, “No. But… god…” you writhed under him.

Harry let out a burst of a laugh, still shaking his head, “Damn. Did I do this to you? Baby you’re gonna regret it if you let me fuck you raw. That’s asking for trouble.”

“Just… goddamnit…” you closed your eyes and groaned. You wanted him right then. You were sure you’d never acted like such a slut before but Harry’s body and his deep voice, his eyes, the way the front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours… He could just slip right in and pound away and you’d feel all of him. Every ridge and wrinkle, hot velvet gliding through your gummy channel, drinking him in…

When you raised your hips again, your eyes on his he nudged himself down toward you, his cock sliding through your pussylips, slicking up and down and jabbing at your clit you clung to his back tight.

“You want it? Like this?” He placed his forearm down on the bed alongside your shoulder as he rocked down over you, his tip traveling over your pussy and getting drenched in your juice.

“Mmm… Harry… yes…”

He softly kissed your lips as he rutted up and slid back, “You’re gonna let me fuck you bare? In this bedroom right here, next to your boyfriend’s? You sure?”

You nodded, your nose bumping against his as you breathed out the word please.

He parted from the kiss and set his eyes on yours as he flexed his thighs and poked at your hole gently with his tip. He teased you for a bit, only gently pressing just the very tip of himself into you until suddenly and all once he forced his crown through your tight, pulsing muscle, opening you up and burying himself in until his balls were tucked against your ass.

You both let out a loud and pathetic mewl at the sensation and you could feel him shaking already. It was decadent and rude and sumptuous and unbearable. It was so wrong. So bad but so fucking delightful.

He began to slowly thrust as he kept his gaze pinned to yours, “Okay? Feel good?”

You moaned as you nodded and kept a tight grasp on his back, wrapping your legs around him so you could keep yourself grounded. So that you knew it was real. That Harry was actually fucking you with his big cock and you weren’t just dreaming it.

“Yeah? Feel all of me like this, don’t you? Needed me so bad and now you’ve got me, baby. Gonna give you my cock whenever you want it. Sneak around behind Colin’s back and keep it secret. He’ll never know. Could fuck you all night and all morning and he’ll wake up tomorrow with no idea of the filthy kind of girl you are.”

“Mmmm… fuck!” You whined as he plunged deep inside your guts. You’d never had anyone so thick and long before. And it was just a bonus that it was attached to a man like Harry. It shouldn’t have surprised you that someone with the kind of confidence he had would be so hung.

“Mmmm… fuck is right… that feels so fucking good. I had a feeling your pussy would be made for me,” he panted his words as he worked into you, thighs flexing against yours.

Your noises were uncontrollable. You had no ability to restrain yourself. You truly were intoxicated, incapacitated, obtunded. Delirious. Which Harry seemed to get a kick out of.

“You’ve never had it like this before, have you? I know what you had to deal with,” he gasped when you gripped tight around and dug your nails into his back, “Colin’s a lazy boyfriend. You need more attention and I can see that. Gonna give you all the attention you can handle if you want it, Y/n…”

Harry pulled back, making your legs fall from his back as he lowered his lips to your tits, curling himself over you as he continued fucking into you, sucking your nipples into his mouth and running his tongue over your sensitive nubs one at a time.

It was debauched gluttony. Harry was so much better in bed than Colin and it almost wasn’t fair. But you couldn’t even feel an ounce of guilt because it was the best thing you’d ever felt. Harry sucked your nipples hard as his cock wrecked your insides, running his hand along the outside of your soft breast and then to the other side, continuing the pace at which he rocked into you. His bed only creaked in time with his thrusts, slow and steady, but the sound of your sodden pussy taking his big cock was salacious and lewd.

Every stroke of his long dick through your pussy walls felt like damnation and salvation all at once. You weren’t sure you’d be the same after. Weren’t sure you wouldn’t be begging him for more every time Colin wasn’t watching. Harry had ruined you.

Harry’s gasps and pants against your tits grew more desperate and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, nudging deep into your tummy and slowly rearing back, his cock coated and sticky with you before plunging it all back inside of you again.

He steadied himself, lifting up to look down at you as he began to fuck into you a little harder, his bed bouncing a little more with the sound of skin slapping together and your punched moans filled the room.

Every time he buried himself in he ground his pelvis against your clit and it sent fireworks through your nervous system. You grabbed onto his thighs as he rutted into you, deep and desperate strokes that split you wide open and made you drool it felt so good. Harry’s chest was sweating as he held your hips down and circled his groin against you, his moans growing louder and whinier as he watched you slowly come undone.

“Give me another one, baby. Show me how good it feels when I fuck you. Better than it’s ever felt with anyone else…”

Harry had something to prove.

You could hardly think straight. The man was fucking out any logic or sense in your brain but you didn’t want to have rational thoughts that interrupted what was happening. You wanted Harry and his cock. You wanted to be fucked by him just like he was for all time. To hell with Colin and his sorry excuse for lovemaking. Harry was a real man with pleasure to give.

The breath was kicked from your lungs when the tight coil in your tummy began to unravel and the yummiest, most transcendent orgasm you’d ever experienced began to take over. The only thing you registered was Harry’s cock pounding into you and words of encouragement egging you on as the mattress squeaked violently under you. His words were unclear but you could hear the starved and whimpery moans falling from his mouth between words.

You trembled and quaked as you spasmed over him, the glide of his heavy cock through your guts squelched and ached as you gasped for air and finally began to discern what was happening when Harry frantically pulled his cock from your pussy and climbed over you, taking your face in his hand and dipped his pussy flavored dick into your lips where you felt him pumping warm, creamy come down your throat and onto your tongue. You grabbed onto his ass with both hands and pulled at him, beckoning him to stuff his whole fat cock into your esophagus.

The grunts and moans he let fall from his chest were the sexiest thing you’d ever heard from any man. Colin wasn’t vocal at all. When Colin came he’d pinch his face up like he was in pain or disgusted by the flavor of something and silently sigh with his mouth open.

But Harry… Harry wasn’t holding back. He was moaning as he thrust his cock into your mouth and slapped his hand on the headboard to steady himself, “Fuck…”

When you’d siphoned every drop from him, he gently pulled his meaty cock from your mouth and you coughed, gasping for air. Harry laid himself on the bed next to you and cupped your cheek, “You all right,” he panted.

You moaned and wiped the back of your hand over your mouth and rolled to face him, “Yeah I’m all right. Better than all right I’d say.”

Harry laughed, moving his hand from your face and fondled your breast in his palm, smushing at it and thumbing over your nipple, “You down to keep doing this with me?”

You sighed and ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be craving that from now on.”

He grinned, “Be craving what?”

“You. The way you do it. I…” you laughed, “I’ve never come three times in a row like that for any man.”

“So you want me to give you lots of cummies?” He snorted a laugh, “Need me to take care of you when Colin can’t.”

“When you say it like that… god it sounds so bad doesn’t it?”

“It is bad, Y/n. We are two very bad people who just did something very awful to someone. But I certainly don’t want to stop.”

“I mean… I don’t know if I can stop now. That was…”

“The best.”

You nodded. It was the best. And you knew you’d have regrets and the guilt would come at some point. But in that moment after being expertly fucked and properly taken care of you could think of nothing better than to do it again and again and again. As often as you could get away with it.

“How long do you think we can keep doing this? Like we’ll have to be lying all the time and sneaking around.”

“If we’re quiet and sneaky enough, as long as we want.”

You bit into your bottom lip and giggled, “That was a smart move. Not coming inside of me. Was gonna let you, ya know.”

Harry sat up with a smirk, “I know you were gonna. But I think fucking my best friend’s girl raw is quite enough mistakes for one night. As much as I wanted to fill you up we’ll have to save that one for a rainy day.”

You sat up with him, clothes all strewn about on the floor and at the foot of his bed, “A rainy day, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Harry pinched your thigh before hopping off the bed out of your reach with a laugh, “And I think it’s only fair that you sleep in here with me tonight,” he slid his boxers up his legs, “Colin’s not gonna wake up until late so we’ll have plenty of time before he’s conscious.”

Harry tossed you his t-shirt and you pulled it over your head, “Why’s that only fair?”

Harry shrugged, “Cause I like to cuddle and Colin’s passed out so might as well let me have some since I probably won’t get to do it very often.”

You slid off his bed and pulled your arms over his shoulders, “That’s kind of sweet, Harry.”

“So you’ll stay in here with me tonight?”

“Without a doubt.”

You were both so fucked.

If you're interested in more of this series consider joining my Patreon where there are already 12 parts posted! xoxo

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[mnemonicpneumaticknife]

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old married couple b7 where they’re both semi-retired and teaching at the academy and all their students think they’re the fiercest of academic rivals until they’re spotted getting cozy at a faculty mixer

[harrygoeswest]

Friday Night

A Friday night gig featuring London, a Lime bike, and Harry Styles as your doting date.

992 words of fluffy nothing for the lovely @harry-on-broadway’s little fic challenge. I haven’t written anything Harry-related for a while so apologies if this is trash <3

~~~

It’s officially scarf weather, you decide, as you stand outside the Roundhouse one early October evening, scarf-less.

The temperature has dropped, you’ve pulled your winter coats out of storage, and your ears get cold on your morning walk to work now. Part of you is relieved—the heat was starting to bother you, make you lethargic and tetchy. Another part hates that flu season is imminent. But…Halloween.

Pros and cons, pros and cons.

While you wait, you watch the pedestrians idle on by, and the traffic creep past in that typical Friday night crawl. Commuting anywhere is hard. Commuting in London is like suffering in the fiery pits of hell. But this is what you signed up for, and in all honesty, something about the hustle and bustle of city living settles something in you, as strange as that sounds. You’d never been stagnant, and it’s hard to reach a point like that in a place that never sits still.

With a boyfriend that never sits still.

Speaking of…

A man on a Lime bike rings his bell as he passes by, and you can’t help the roll of your eyes. You watch as he brakes to a stop in the nearest bike park, and bury your nose beneath the warmth of your coat. Your eyes track his movements as he swings his leg over, secures the bike and ends his trip on his phone, before stalking in your direction.

He’s wearing simple grey wool trousers, one of his many Mickey Mouse t-shirts, and a navy shirt over the top with his black Vans. His hair is styled in this strange faux hawk, mullet type way again, that on anyone else you would hate. But on him…?

Nope. Not at all.

You take in a deep breath, anticipating that expensive cologne he always wears, and your mouth waters when it hits your nostrils. You release your inhale on a sigh.

“I think,” you start as he halts right before you, green eyes smiling downward into yours, “at this point, it’d probably be cheaper to invest in your own bike. You know?”

He purses his lips. “I’m giving back to the community.”

You bark a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Harry grins, then leans down to press his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You match his smile and kiss him back. “No bumbag today?” You jest, peering around his waist and hips for any sign of his ‘banana’ bag.

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but it’s all in good fun. “Not today.”

You kiss your teeth. “Shame.”

He takes stock of you then, eyes roaming your bundled up frame. “Are you cold?”

“Just a bit.”

“Should’ve put a scarf on, baby.”

“I know,” you whimper.

“Ready for some food?” He points to the door of the restaurant attached to the venue.

“Yep.”

He saunters past you, snatching your hand up as he goes.

“Harry?”

He halts, turns back to you with a comically expectant look, and lowers himself at the waist until you’re eye-to-eye. “Yes?”

“Got the tickets?”

His expression freezes, and he does this nerve-wracking, panicky pat down of his chest, hips and backside before he relaxes, clicks a finger at you, and says, “On my phone. You can do that these days, you know?” And then pecks the tip of your nose with his lips.

You playfully whack him in the chest. “Fuck off.”

Inside, music is playing at an almost obnoxious level, only made worse by the fact that it’s one of Harry’s old songs.

You say old, because it’s just turned seven. “Aw,” you coo.

Tables upon tables are full of pre-gig goers grabbing a bite, talking loudly and boisterously. Thankfully, one of you was smart enough to book ahead, so when you speak to a host, you’re taken to one of only two free tables and handed over menus.

Dinner is spent sharing stories of your day, exchanging easy banter and casual affectionate touches. You steal food off Harry’s plate when he’s not looking, and he steals food off yours when you are looking without an ounce of shame. Once the bill is paid, you head inside the venue hand-in-hand.

You find a corner out of the way but with a good view from the balcony, and Harry glues himself to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you—taking up position for the rest of the night.

When the band starts, he bobs and sways with you in his arms, singing along to the words while his chin rests on your head. He dances more during the upbeat songs and leaves little kisses to your cheek and neck during the slower, sadder songs, but whatever his mood, he’s infectious, and you can’t help but join in.

At the end of the night you filter out into the cold October night air.

“Your place or mine?” He asks as you wander away from the crowds, his hand still clutching yours tightly.

You pretend to think about it. “Your bed is bigger.”

“That’s always your answer.”

“Then you should know better than to ask.” You give him a saccharine smile.

He pinches your cheek. “Your place is closer.”

“My place is a dump at the moment.”

“When have I ever cared?”

“You should care.”

“I really don’t, though. Mine isn’t exactly tidy either.”

You peer up at him, and he turns an indulgent smile on you.

“Fine,” he concedes. “We can go to mine, but we’re going on a bike.”

“The fuck we are. I’ll go home by myself in that case.” You start walking the opposite way, but Harry drags you back towards him with ease.

“The fuck you will.”

Then, right there in the middle of a still busy London pavement, he cups your cheeks and kisses you. And like the helpless fool you are, you let him.

“I’ll get us an Uber,” he says against your lips.

Your grin is triumphant.

~~~

Peace and love, friends :)

[harrysmimi]

A Moment In Time

Synopsis: One where Harry's Swiftie daughter finally gets to meet her favourite and see her perform live.

Here's Pt2 to this after 1.5years | More of my work

It was a random Wednesday day and Harry and Moon at Harry Lambert's studio.

They were going to The Eras Tour!!!

Moon was ecstatic would be an understatement to say. She wanted a green folklore dress like Taylor's to wear at the Wembley Night three. So her dad found the very next person to reach out to for a custom dress for his little princess.

"It twickles!" She chuckled as Lambert took her measurements, making sure to leave quite a margin as she is a growing kid and the show was a month and a half ahead.

"Yeah? Does it tickle here?" Lambert tickled her tummy a bit making her burst into laughter.

Then later Moon went out with her dad on a little lunch date. She wanted Fish and chips and that's what she got.

......................................................................

It was finally the concert day. Moon was already hyped up for everything. They even went merch shopping. They couldn't find anything in her size except for nail charms there.

Moon carried along her VIP pass on a lanyard too long for her and her noise cancelling headphones which matched her dress. Yes, her Papa bought her VIP tickets.

The show kicked off and they all danced, sang and had a great time all together.

Moon was particularly ecstatic when she saw she was matching with Taylor with the very similar Folklore dress. Taylor of course noticed it during her 22 set.

"Mummy look!" Moon showed her mum how Taylor danced during August, using her cape sleeves like wings just like her favourite.

Harry's fans there were particularly in awe of the little girl. Surprisingly, they did not take pictures of her or any sneaky videos. They were all very respectful as YN and Harry have kept their daughter away from the lime light.

Moon was over the moon one can say when she saw Taylor wearing the same dress as hers during August. "Mummy she's wearing the same dress as me!" The little girl screamed in excitement asking her mother to pick her up so she could have a look at her favourite performing on the stage well.

"Yeah!" YN cooed as picked up her girl and propped her up on her hip.

.........................................................................

It was the end of the show and Harry was guiding his girl back out when Andrea, Taylor's mum stopped them.

"Hi, Harry." She greeted him, "Taylor said she would like to meet your daughter at the back stage now."

Moon was all tired and a bit grumpy already as she clung on her mother, still with her noise cancelling headphones on and her bunny close to her chest. She had no idea what was going on as her mother and dad took her back stage. Taylor was there, still in her Midnights body suit.

"Moonie look who's here." YN cooed to her daughter softly, making the little girl pick her head up to look at her favourite.

"Hi little one!" Taylor said softly.

"Taylor!" It was like Moon had two shots of espresso all of a sudden when she saw Taylor, she was quick to jump in her arms with a bear hug.

"Oh you're so sweet!" Taylor hugged her back. "I like your dress. It's so pretty."

"Yeah, it's like yours!" Moon said she looked down at her dress.

"It suits you better I can say." Blondie said. "Your dad told me how much you like my music, that means so much to me."

"Yes, I like Love Story, Me, and Lover!" Moon listed out a few songs she likes. "Papa wikes to sing it to Mummy and me sometimes."

"Awe that's so sweet, isn't it!" Taylor chuckle softly. "Thank you for listening to my songs." She hugged the little girl again.

Taylor gave Moon so many gifts. Harry made sure to inform Taylor that his daughter is a big fan of hers. Taylor made the meet much so special with custom merch for Moon.

A little 22 hat, and a small Junior Jules shirt, with a pair of black jean shorts, a few tour hoodies made in her size and few sizes larger so she can grow into them. A few friendship bracelets for her, which Taylor made herself. And a few candies and chocolates, which Taylor made sure with her parents first before giving it to her.

"I made these myself for you." She helped Moon wear the bracelets.

And little did Taylor know, Moon had a few gifts for Taylor too.

"Mummy the gift, pwease!" She looked up at her mother. It was just a little cat with a picture Moon drew herself and a friendship bracelet too.

"Oh my gosh! You made these?" Taylor was in utter surprise. The little bracelets said, 'Moons BFF" and "Bestie" respectively. "You drew this?"

"Yes!" Moon exclaimed, "dunno if you would wanna wear it but I made it." She added shyly.

"Of course I want to wear it." Taylor instantly put on the bracelets, "oh and I love this picture so much!"

"Yeah? This is Moon and this is you!" She pointed at two stick figures with yellow hair, one with blue eyes and one with green eyes. Stick figure Taylor had a black mic in her hand. "And it says, I wuv your swongs and I admire you so much!" And it said the same thing indeed in messy and colourful writing.

"You are amazing." Taylor hugged Moon again, she was a bit emotional to say the least. "I am gonna cherish this forever, thank you so much. You are such an amazing artist."

"Thank you so much." Moon blushed shyly making everyone chuckle.

"You wanna take pictures together on my Polaroid?" Taylor asked. Moon of course said yes.

Taylor kept one with her and gave one to Moon with a little message on the back.

It was the best night for Moon.

YN only hoped she could remember it when she grows up, but her parents would forever remember the same for her. Moon spent three hours with Taylor that evening, they had dinner together later that night.

Moon definitely thought Taylor was going to be her best friend forever and ever that she asked her to call her whenever she is free, surprisingly Taylor agreed to that. That made Moon ever more happier.

....................................................................................

Moon was fast asleep in the car when they all got home, she was exhausted.

It was the next morning when her dad surprised her with her favourite breakfast, which was pancakes with her favourite fruits.

"Mummy." She walked up to her mum in her office with sleepy eyes for cuddles.

"Good morning my baby." YN was quick to pull her up in her lap.

"Mornin." She mumbled. "What are you doing Mummy?"

"I am just taking care of a few things baby." She explained to her.

"Oh." Was her only reaction.

"Are you still tired?"

"Mhmm." She nodded and nuzzled closer to YN's chest and tried to sleep again but she could smell the delicious pancakes her dad was making in the kitchen. "Pancakes?"

"Yes, Papa is making Pancakes for you." YN shared, "do you want to go brush your teeth and your hair and eat pancakes?"

"Mhmm." She seemed a bit upset and YN didn't know why.

She let her daughter be for a while as she helped the little girl brush her teeth and hair before they headed out for breakfast.

"Hi my loves. Good morning." Harry chirped as he went and kissed his wife first on the mouth and then his princess. YN set her on her high chair as she went to help him.

"I don't know why she seems a bit upset." She whispered to her husband.

"No, why?" He seemed puzzled about it.

"I don't know..."

Harry went to his daughter with a plate of pancakes, he had made a little smile face the blue berry jam and cut up little strawberry hearts for the eyes, syrup and extra fruits on the side.

"Hey princess what got you so upset?" He cooed to her, "did you see a nightmare?"

"No." She mumbled, "I saw we went to see Taylor and there were a lot of her friends there, she gave me so many gifts."

"Oh baby you thought that was a dream?" Harry tried so hard to hold back his chuckle.

"Mhmm." She looked down at her plate with sad and teary eyes.

"Oh no, can I share something with you?" Harry asked making her look up at him, "it was all real my darling. Here." He walked up to the coffee table in their living room to get the basket of goodies and the Polaroid.

The instant smile on her face put her parents heart into ease.

"It all happened, really." YN assured her. "We took off the bracelets because we didn't want you to scratch yourself in sleep." She gave the little girl the bracelets.

And she was happy again.

They spent the rest of their day watching movies and preparing and making an elaborate dinner to invite Grandma Anne and Aunty Gemma.

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[thosemotivationalquotes]

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I will add more resources as I find them!

I will also be using the tag ‘Kenzie talks election 2024’ to talk about election stuff starting 11/4

[rubylured]

Lest I forget my roots… Godbless 🙏🙏🙏

the orson welles blogs on here @deadpanwalking and @sewerfight are so important to me im so glad there are other weirdo orsonposters around

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 2

Word count: 5,075

Warnings: Violence, gun, blood, nightmare, slight panic attack.

Author's note: Thank you for the love on Chapter one! Feedback is appreciated:) Here's the link if you've not read it: Chapter One

There was no way y/n could follow Harry around all day, he was a busy doctor. He had patients to tend to. For the time being, she didn't have a better idea except to continue meeting him at the bar. 

"Have you always wanted to be a doctor?", she asks the man, clad in a lime green shirt today. He seemed like he was in better spirits than he was the previous night, so y/n took the opportunity. 

"I..don't know.", Harry's eyebrows furrow, like he tried to think, and it hurt him to remember. "I know how to treat people."

"That's nice.", y/n nods. "It must be a big responsibility, having lives of people in your hands."

"I think I'm used to it.", he replies shortly. "Why are you so interested?", he looks up at her.

"Just like that.", she shrugs. "Can I not make friends? I'm new to this town."

"Why did you come here?", he asks.

"Less expenses than in the city.", y/n sighs, looking around at the bar. Girls swinging their hips on the dance floors, guys looking at them like they were a piece of meat, and lots of loud music blasting. This wasn't her scene at all.

"You don't like getting drinks.", Harry tells her, more like a statement than a question. He was observing her too.

"I don't mind the drinks, it's the whole scene I don't like. I prefer spending my free nights in my bed, with ice cream and a good novel."

Harry cracked what looked like a small smile, one of the dimples on his cheek popping, which made y/n feel warm. She cursed herself for feeling like that, before continuing with the talk. "You said you want to make friends. I'm not the right guy, y/n.", Harry says.

"Why? You're ice cold, mean and friendless? What a sad lifestyle you must lead, Doctor."

He chuckles, popping some of the fried peanuts into his mouth. "I'm not cold and mean."

"So you are friendless.", y/n concludes.

"What's the point? I don't have time for friends.", he says.

"But you need friends in your life, Harry. Friends support you through hard times, you can be yourself with them, and you can have lots of fun!"

"Friends also betray you.", he grumbles.

"Have you been betrayed be a friend or a close one?", y/n asks, trying to know if there were people he thought plotting against him and Reagen in the past.

"I don't remember.", he snaps, motioning for the bartender to fill up his drink. y/n waits for him to calm down, watching him tip the entire glass down his throat and groan. 

"Whiskey's your choice of poison?", she asks, flinching. She doesn't like the burn of whiskey.

"Yes, but it's too much for someone like you. You should try something sweeter, like rum.", he says. "Old Monk rum for the lady please.", he tells the bartender.

"What do you mean by someone like you?", she raises her eyebrows at him.

"You know what I mean.", he simply says. y/n decided to come back to the topic of friends. "Do you have a best friend?"

Harry freezes again, and y/n observes the look in his eyes like he was trying to remember a painful memory. Oliver had told her that Harry was his best friend. He needed his best friend back, and she heard the suffering in his voice when he told her that. "N-No..no, I don't think so, I don't know. I have memory issues, I don't remember a lot of stuff."

y/n nods. "That's okay. Well, I can be your best friend. I mean, I can start by being your friend and then we can see how it goes."

Harry smirks. "You really want to be my friend, don't you?"

"Be grateful I'm taking pity on you, Mr. Friendless mysterious guy.", y/n replies, and Harry laughs. y/n smiles. So he does remember how to laugh.

The bartender keeps her drink in front of her. "I've never tried this before.", y/n says, looking at the dark, sweet smelling liquid.

"You'll like it.", Harry says confidently. "Trust your new friend's drink choosing ability."

y/n grins and tries it. The liquid drink went down smooth, leaving her mouth refreshing and quenching for more. It had almost a dehydrated berry taste to it, which she really loved. She also felt the slight warmth of the alcohol.

"I do like it.", she decides, taking another sip. "How did you know?"

"Just like that.", he shrugs, imitating her from their conversation earlier, and she smiled, liking him more as she got to know him a little. "Oh and by the way you agreed to us being friends.", she adds, in case he let it slip by accident.

"Just friends, y/n?", he gets up after stuffing some cash inside the book the bill came in. y/n sits there thinking about what he said, and he gives her a small wave. "I'm gonna get to bed, see you around."

Harry leaves the bar, leaving y/n pondering. Did he want something more than friendship with her? She couldn't deny that she wasn't attracted to the man, but she couldn't take advantage of him like that. She was already feeling bad for befriending him for someone else. She was only using him and he didn't know that. She decided that she wouldn't let her feelings grow. Yes, he was handsome, and it was natural to get attracted, but she wasn't going to let anything else happen between them. 

______________________________________________________

The painting was gorgeous. It as crafted with such bright tones, and beautiful color bleding. y/n had poured all of her emotion into it. It was piece she didn't look at very often. She didn't keep it for sale either. It was personal. 

The woman in the painting was made of a mix of colors. Her eyes were standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her oval face.

"This is beautiful.", Harry speaks. "You paint more of landscapes, who is this woman?"

y/n sucks in a breath, approaching a sensitive topic. "I don't know..I think it's my mom. I remember how she looked like..but my Uncle Luke said my parents left me when I was little."

Harry tears his eyes away from the painting, looking at her. "I'm sorry. You haven't tried to contact them?"

y/n shakes her head. "I've thought about it, but I don't know if I can take whatever the truth is. And I'm happy with my Uncle."

Harry nods, looking at the other paintings. "Can I buy it?"

"Sure, which one?"

"All of it?"

"All of it!?"

"I have a new flat, it's empty.", Harry says flatly, like it was obvious. "This would look nice on the walls."

"But all of them is going to look like an art gallery and less of a flat, Harry. Um let's select a few out, okay?", y/n says, and Harry nods. "I'll have to see what your flat looks like, to know what matches."

y/n wanted to see if she can get her hands on any pictures, any files, or anything that can point out to his past life.

"Fine, let's have tea at my place.", Harry agrees and she smiles, nodding. "See, you're getting the hang of things for someone who hasn't had friends before."

Harry only gave the girl a small smile, continuing to look around her studio. 

Harry's flat was huge. Two bedrooms, a big kitchen with a patio, a beautiful balcony overlooking the small town. It was neutral themed, the colors brown and cream. Harry makes them tea, and brings out some cookies as they sit on the couch. 

"For looks like yours, you had to have been in love at least once.", Stella says, and Harry keeps his cup of tea down. "Maybe. Don't remember. Are you saying I'm handsome?"

y/n bites her lip as Harry smirks. "I didn't say that. You may be good looking, that's all."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"She must have been lucky, whoever the girl was.", y/n tries to get it out of him. Come on, please remember something so I know you really are the person Romania told me about. 

Harry sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead like he had a headache. "I-I..I don't believe in it."

"Believe in love?", y/n asks, and he nods, bringing his hand back and looking at her with those beautiful eyes. "Do you believe in love y/n?"

y/n nods. "Of course. Love is like this overwhelming sentiment that keeps you up all night and makes you feel like a little child waiting for Christmas day. The feeling of having a soulmate and a place you can really call home, that sounds promising."

Harry's eyes ran over soft features, as he spoke, "You sound like you have been in love."

y/n laughs, biting into a cookie. "Nah, me? I talk too much, and I'm weird. Who would want to love me?"

"There might be someone.", Harry whispers softly, but not soft enough so y/n couldn't hear it.

__________________________________________

"I'm not sure if he is the man you're looking for.", y/n tells Romania on the phone. "He doesn't remember anything about his past, and he's such a sweet guy! He's a doctor who saves lives for god sake, he's not your mafia boss!"

"He's had you fooled by his charm, Miss y/l/n.", Romania huffs. "The reason he remained our secret weapon was because of how easily he could blend in. Do not fall for his charm, it's all an act."

"I think he really doesn't remember, Romania.", y/n twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, worried about what she has to do.

"He does, y/n. I have to believe he does, for his own good.", Romania sighs. "Or we have to kill him."

y/n's hand freezes over the phone. "K-Kill him?"

"Yes, he's a threat to our opponents. He knows too much. If they get to him first..", Romania drawls off. "You won't understand, y/n, just know that he is very important. You are our last hope. If you cannot prove that he remembers, then we will kill him. At least he'll get to be with Reagen then."

"Y-You can't kill him.", y/n whispers, her heart beating fast. What did she agree to? She made a deal with people capable of killing a poor man?

"Then do your job, y/n. I'm sending another fifty thousand to your account. Update me soon." Romania hung up with that, and y/n sat down heavily, hand on her forehead. She has to find a way to break into his shell. She doesn't want to be responsible for the death of a man.

__________________________________________________________

Broken windows. Blood covering the pieces of glass. Someone held a gun to her forehead, the face unclear. The wind was strong, piercing her skin. Then she heard the trigger being pulled and a shot being fired.

y/n wakes up with a gasp, her body sweating under the linen sheets. She closes her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart in relief. It was just a dream. The same dream she keeps having. Uncle Luke had told her to stop watching and reading mystery. This was the consequence.

Her thoughts went to Harry as she pours herself some water. She wasn't even supposed to ask questions to Romania. There were so many questions she had. About his line of work, about his family, about why the opponents had stayed away from him so far, and most importantly, about Reagen. How did they meet? How was their relationship? Were they going to get married?

So many questions she couldn't have the answers to.

The next morning, her Uncle Luke wanted to go on a walk, so she went with him. "Boy troubles.", Uncle Luke observes. "Who is it?"

"It's no one.", y/n dismisses it, feet trudging over the fallen autumn leaves. She didn't like the town, but she couldn't help but admit it was pretty. Full of trees.

"Really?", Uncle Luke teases and she sighs, giving up. "It's just Harry."

"Who's Harry?"

Her uncle had forgotten all about her side job, and the mysterious guy she was spying on. y/n cooked up a story about a customer named Harry to make Uncle Luke happy. She would do anything for him.

She fixed up some breakfast for him before rushing to the cafe. She was running a little late. She got to her painting. Then sat at a table, eating a lovely sugary custard pastry and drinking her ice lemon mint tea while she had a break.

"Do you always eat so much sugar?"

She looked up surprised to see Harry. "It's not good for your health.", he says, before sitting down across from her. "After you shove the sugary cereal down your throat for breakfast, you have this as your everyday snack?"

"Woah, don't go Doctor mode on me.", y/n laughs, continuing to enjoy her pastry. "But it's so good, and this is the only time I'm relaxing, so let me have my pastry, okay?"

"Suit yourself.", Harry eyes it with disgust. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital?", y/n asks him.

"It's my day off.", he answers, eyes moving to her lips as he watched her tongue peek out to clean up the little bits of custard. "Thought to spend it with my friend."

"Ahh.", y/n smiles. "How do you wanna spend it then?"

"Someone once told me it's fun to have ice cream and watch a movie. Show me how it's fun."

"Is that a challenge?", y/n grins, quickly downing the rest of her drink. 

"Sure.", Harry gives her a signature smirk, before he leaned forward to bring his hand up to her face. His hand rests on her cheek as his thumb gently rubs away a bit of custard on the side of her mouth. y/n felt goosebumps on her skin as he touched her, and their eyes meet. y/n gets lost in the depth of Harry's eyes. She saw something she hadn't seen before. 

Pain.

Harry quickly pulled away and y/n grabbed a tissue. "Give me a minute.", she told him, and he nodded, waiting for her. y/n had done her paintings for the day, and she signed out of the cafe. 

They went to the grocery store to pick up some goods, all while talking happily like friends. Harry was lowering the guard he had up, and although that made y/n happy, it made her guilty at the same time. He thought she was his friend. He was trusting her. 

And what was she doing? 

She was using his friendship to get out some information that she doesn't care about, out of him so she can get the rest of her money from the deal and lead her life.

A man lurking behind them caught y/n's attention in the grocery store. She ushered them to the next aisle, and she saw another man at the end of it. Both of them were looking at Harry like he was their worst enemy.

y/n remembered what Romania had told her about their opponents. 

"Harry, let's get out of here.", y/n keeps her hand on his arm, feeling the urge to protect him. He did not deserve this. He didn't even know who he is. 

"Wait, we didn't get the kind of noodles you like-"

"-This will do." y/n puts one of the instant ramen packets into their trolley, staring back at the men hoping they'll back off. "Come on."

Harry follows her with the trolley, oblivious to the men watching him. He offered to pay, and y/n quickly gets them back into her car. 

"Why were you rushing?", Harry asks.

"I um..I have to pee!"

"There was a restroom inside.", Harry points out.

"Yes I'm scared of urinary tract infections, yeast infections especially, they're so nasty, have you seen the pictures? I'm scared of using public toilets.", she lies, and rambles on.

Harry looked at her for a second, before doubling over and laughing. y/n smiled sheepishly, adoration filling her as she watched him laugh. That laugh did things to her. 

"Well okay let's go then, you have to pee!", he says, and they both laugh as y/n pulls out of the parking lot, missing the two men staring at them from a distance.

_____________________________________

y/n watches Harry as he immerses in the movie, watching it with interest. They had obviously decided on a crime thriller. She had seen before, and she was more interested in studying the tall man beside her, lounging in his sweatpants, curled up on his couch. 

"You're right, I should do this more often.", Harry mumbles, leaning back and stealing a glance at y/n. "You sleepy?"

y/n was a little sleepy with the lack of sleep last night, but she shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "Not at all!"

A mountain of blankets and half eaten snacks rested on the coffee table in front of them, and she knew she probably wouldn't make it through the whole movie but she had to. 

"Did you go to a doctor about your memory issues?", y/n decides to bite, and Harry heard her, but he still asks, "Sorry?"

"You have memory issues, you can't remember a lot of things. Have you seen a doctor about that?"

Harry pauses the movie. "No. It won't help."

"Why not?"

"I've tried taking medicine, it won't come back. I lost those memories for a reason y/n, I don't want to bring them back. Just like how you don't want to reach out to your parents.", Harry answers, jaw clenching. "I have a good life here. I'm happy."

"Are you though?", y/n leans forward to him. "Are you really happy, Harry?"

Harry remained quiet, studying her face. "It doesn't matter."

"It does! I wish to see you happy. If we can get your past behind you, maybe you can-"

"-I'm already behind it. I don't know what happened in the past, and I don't care. Can we just watch the movie?"

y/n sighed in defeat, but nodded, curling back on the other side of the couch as Harry presses play on the movie. How the hell was she going to get him to remember who he was?

y/n can't fight of the sleep for too long. Harry sees her dozing off, and a fond smile coats his lips as he looks at her. He wanted to carry her to bed, where she could sleep more comfortably but he figured he wouldn't without her permission. Instead, he went to his room to get his blanket and tucked it around her small frame. 

He hated anyone in his personal space, but this was y/n. He could make an exception. Hell, he had already invited her into his house.

y/n mumbles incoherently in her sleep, and Harry coots closer to her, keeping a hand on her arm, in case she was having a bad dream, and continued to watch the movie.

y/n saw the same dream again. Blood. Broken window. Glass. Gun. 

Harry frowned as her serene, peaceful face split into a disturbed one. Her eyebrows scrunching, and her legs tucking underneath her chin. She began to shake lightly.

"y/n.", Harry shakes her awake gently.

y/n runs in her dream, away from the gun, but the shot is still fired from the gun. Before she could see who was injured, she jolts awake.

Her scared eyes meet Harry's. "Hey, it's okay, you're in my flat, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep.", Harry strokes some of her hair back from her forehead as she looks at him, like she wanted reassurance that she's safe. 

Harry doesn't hesitate before pulling her into his lap, wrapping his muscular strong arms around her, and tucking her head into his chest. "Shh..it's okay, you're okay. It was just a dream."

He felt a strong emotion to kill anyone or anything that caused y/n to get so scared. He knew it was in her dream, but he hated the thought of y/n being hurt. She was so delicate, so sweet, he had to protect her.

"H-Harry?", y/n whispers into his chest, her arms tightening around his body.

"Yes?", Harry whispers back, continuing to stroke her hair to soothe her. 

"I'm sorry.", she sniffles, and he gets confused. Was she apologizing for having a bad dream? He had a feeling it was for something else. Either way, she was shaken up and his job was to get her to relax and make her feel okay.

"Don't be, sunshine. I got you."

______________________________________________________

y/n felt horrible. She felt like a monster. Here there was a man who comforted her when she was scared, and on the other hand, what was she doing? She was just doing her task. She would eventually throw him to Romania like he was a piece of meat. y/n felt like electricity was coursing through her veins when Harry's hands smoothed over her body and her hair, calming her down. He scooped her into his lap with no effort, and Stella felt safe.

She felt safe like she never had before. She wanted to stay in his arms forever and forget everything else that happened. She wished she'd met this man before all the Romania and money crap. She wanted to call her and tell her she couldn't do it anymore, but she couldn't back away now. Harry is not showing any signs of who he was five years ago. If he really is that person, then y/n needs to bring his memories back. His friends, or a family y/n doesn't know about, they need him. 

She apologized to him, said that she's sorry for hurting him and doing this to him, but he thought she was worrying about her dream scare. If only he knew the truth.

Then there was what he called her. He called her sunshine. It sounded so sweet, and she wishes he calls her that again. y/n could no longer deny it. She had feelings for Harry, and the feelings kept growing. 

One week. It has been seven days since she started her task. She has only three more weeks to get Harry to open up. She has to gain his trust first. Yes, he's letting her into his house, he's getting comfortable around her, but she has to gain his full trust. 

"Here you go, chicken alfredo. You need some real food after all that ice cream.", Harry smiles as he serves the pasta he just made into two plates. 

"I didn't know you could cook.", y/n says impressed as she sits on the chair. 

"How could you? You've never had my food before. Now you know.", Harry answers, sitting beside her with his plate. He watched her as she tastes it. y/n let the creamy pasta satisfy her taste buds, and the flavorful bite of the chicken was amazing.

"It's so good.", she hums. "You're multi talented. Any other hobbies? Secret gamer? Guitarist? Cyber hacking? Gold smuggler?" y/n waits for his response to the last two.

Harry chuckles, eating his own pasta. "Gold smuggler?"

"I don't know, mystery guy. You tell me.", y/n says playfully.

"Not that I know of. But that would be an interesting secret hobby, wouldn't it y/n?", he asks, giving her a look. What was that look? Was it a knowing look? Was he teasing her? Was he hiding?

"I guess, y-yeah.", y/n replies shortly.

If he is hiding, he's doing a very good job of it. He remembers everything, he's putting up an act, a mask. Romania's words lingered in y/n's brain.

"I do play the guitar. How did you know?", he asks, pouring some water into both of their glasses.

"Your fingers are calloused.", y/n states her observation. 

"Observant, I see.", Harry nods impressed. "You ask so much about me. What are your interests besides painting and reading thriller novels?"

y/n laughs. "Watching thriller movies." Harry rolls his eyes, and she grins. "Okay. Um..I don't really know, I don't get time Harry."

"You should explore yourself some more.", he mumbles.

"Oh? Says Mr. Always Busy Doctor."

He shrugs, and y/n looks at her phone as it rings. It was her Uncle Luke.

"Sorry, gotta take this.", she excuses herself, and Harry nods, twirling the pasta around his fork. 

"Uncle Luke?", y/n answers, and hears panting on the other line. "W-Where am I?"

She keeps her fork down, fear creeping up. "You're at home, Uncle Luke, everything okay? Did you go out somewhere?"

"y/n..w-where are you?", her uncle's voice came out in a whimper and she stands up immediately. Harry looks at her with a frown. 

"I'm at a friend's house, I'll come over now, okay? Don't worry, you're at home. Look around, what do you see?", she replies calmly, even though she was freaking out.

"S-Stairs..p-pictures on the walls. Of us."

y/n sighs in relief. He is at home. "Yes, it's safe, Uncle Luke. You're at home, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Come soon..sweetheart.", he whispered, and y/n feels her heart break at his small voice. "I will. I love you."

She stuffs her phone into her pocket and looks at Harry. "I'm sorry I have to go, my uncle needs me."

"I'll come with you.", Harry was already putting away their plates.

"No, Harry, it's okay..my place is small and it's a mess and..you don't wanna be there.", y/n says embarrassed.

"y/n, I didn't always have a flat like this. I used to live on the streets for a few months. Then someone who said they know me came and told me that I'm a Doctor. I managed to get my license back, and everything worked out. I know what it's like, okay?" Harry squeezes her shoulder gently.

y/n quickly stored in her brain the information he had shared. Then she felt bad. He told her because he thought she was his friend.

"Okay, come with me.", she agrees. Harry and y/n leave Zach's flat, and it's a twenty minute drive to y/n's place.

"Your uncle..", Harry drawls, waiting for her to complete.

"Alzheimer's.", she answers, and Harry nods understanding. They didn't talk on the way. y/n was worried, and Harry wasn't used to starting conversations.

When she got home, y/n runs to her Uncle who was sitting at the end of the stairs. "D-Did you fall?", she gasps, seeing him clutch his foot like he was in pain.

"Y-Yes.", Uncle Luke nods, arms leaning to pull his niece into a hug. "y/n. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Uncle, shh..", y/n assures, holding him tight and feeling guilty. She had left him alone and he fell. "Y-You didn't fall down all the stairs, did you?"

"No I tripped on the last few.", he answers. "I think my balance is off. I'm okay I think..I just needed to see you."

y/n nods, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, I told you that you can always call me. I'm glad you did." She looks over him to see if he was injured.

"W-Who's this young man?", Uncle Luke looks up at Harry who was silently watching their exchange.

"He's Harry, I told you about him, remember?"

y/n looks back at Harry, who was looking at her uncle with an expression she couldn't read. Uncle Luke nods at him. "Sorry our first meeting is like this."

"I don't mind.", Harry leans down to help him stand up. y/n took one arm and Harry the other, Uncle Luke was brought back on his feet. 

"Does your ankle hurt?", y/n notices as he winces, and he nods. 

"I can take a look.", Harry says. "Let's get him to bed."

They got Uncle Luke back to his room, and y/n makes him drink some water. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and his fingertips ran over Uncle Luke's ankle as he examined it. Harry did his prodding, checked the movement on the ankle, and observed that there was no swelling, but a purplish bruise forming. He did not feel any broken bones.

"It's a small sprain.", he tells them. "You have a crepe bandage, y/n?It should be there in a first aid kit."

"I think so, let me see.", y/n says, and goes to the cupboard near the sink where she keeps basic first aid. 

Uncle Luke stares at Harry, making sure his niece is gone, before spitting out, "What are you doing with y/n?"

"We're friends.", Harry answers patiently, although he did not like the tone Uncle Luke spoke in.

"Don't you dare get close to my niece. I know all about you, Harry Styles.", Uncle Luke uses his full name, and Harry did not even know that that was his full name. He's used to people coming up to him and calling him that, then they threaten him and go away. 

"Do tell me, cause I don't remember.", Harry says, and Uncle Luke grabs his collar with an iron grip. A weak man like him shouldn't be this strong, Harry notes. 

"You think you're smart, don't you? Doctor Turner, huh? We're just waiting for the right time. You killed my family. I will watch you being burned down to the ground, Styles."

"What the hell are you talking about?", Harry exclaims, trying to get his hand off of him. 

"Oh my god. Uncle Luke, stop!", y/n rushes over, and Uncle Luke lets him go, his face full of hatred and anger. "I'm so sorry Harry!", she says to him apologetically.

"It's okay.", Harry tells her, staring at her uncle. "Illness does it."

y/n nods, rubbing her Uncle's arms, calming him down. "I'm here, Uncle. Harry's my friend, it's okay."

He didn't answer, just kept looking at Harry as he wrapped his injured ankle up. "Keep it elevated, ice pack on and off. It should be fine in two days.", he said when he was done, and left the room.

"I'll be right back.", y/n tells her uncle, before running behind Harry.

"Harry!"

Harry pauses near the door. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into him.", y/n grabs his hand to stop him from storming out. Harry nods, a little shaken up with what her uncle had said. You killed my family.

Harry was a Doctor. He saved people, he didn't kill them. He knew her uncle was sick, but the fire in his eyes when he looked at him? He couldn't shake it away.

"He's turning delusional, I'll make an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow.", y/n shakes her head, stressed about what to do. Harry thought she had too much of stress in her life. He could see the dark circles under her eyes due to the lack of sleep. He wanted to ask her about it, but now wasn't the time.

"I-I have to go, y/n", Harry tells her, and y/n nods, standing on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for your help. You're a good man, Harry."

Was he? 

Harry's fingers went to his cheek where she had kissed him as he stepped outside the door. Her touch made him feel less anxious. He hoped it would leave him calm enough to get some sleep tonight. His thoughts shifted to the girl who came into his life just a week ago. She was perfect. He had a chance to make things different from last time. 

After all, she's his to ruin, isn't she?

[feedists4progress]

Food is one of the most universally beloved things on planet Earth. Aligning a presidential campaign with it is smart for all the obvious reasons, but for the Harris-Walz ticket, it’s also a signal. The rhetorical challenge of progressivism is that it is by nature abstract: It imagines a world that does not yet exist, rather than advocating to return to some previous version of the one we know. [...] In foregrounding food, Harris and Walz are making theirs the candidacy of terrestrial pleasure and straightforward abundance.

The governor of Minnesota and possible future vice president’s hotdish recipe is, uh, a lot. It involves, among other things, whole milk, half-and-half, two types of meat, three cups of cheese (specifically Kraft), nearly a stick of butter, and a full package of Tater Tots. It is gluttonous, deeply midwestern, and, I am sure, delicious. Indeed, Walz won the Minnesota Congressional Delegation’s hotdish cook-off in 2013, 2014, and 2016.

Tim Walz loves food. He loves corn dogs, and the all-you-can-drink milk booth at the Minnesota state fair, and—I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this—dunking cinnamon rolls in chili. He gets excited about soda. He posts pictures of his sandwiches.  He loves to eat so much that people on X are already writing short-form fan fiction about it. Throughout his political career, but especially recently, he has gone out of his way to talk about food, the fattier and folksier the better. Last week, in a discussion with CNN’s Jake Tapper that was ostensibly about Joe Biden’s mental fitness, Walz recounted receiving a call from the president while eating the Minnesota delicacy Juicy Lucy, a hamburger stuffed with cheese. The next day, he posted on X about a different award-winning hotdish recipe of his, this one involving two separate kinds of canned soup.

We are witnessing what might be the most food-centric presidential campaign in American history. Kamala Harris is, by all accounts, an exceptional and enthusiastic home cook, and has made cooking part of her political brand—surely an intentional calculation, given the negative connotations that might arise when the potential first woman president openly embraces domesticity. In 2019, she offered an off-the-cuff lesson in turkey brining while getting mic’d up to go on television: “Just lather that baby up,” she said, eyes bright. The next year, she started an amateur cooking show; on it, she cracks an egg with one hand and bonds with Mindy Kaling over the fact that their parents both stored spices in old Taster’s Choice jars. She laughs a lot in the kitchen.

Unlike her running mate, Harris seems unlikely to throw four kinds of dairy in the oven for dinner—she’s a Californian, and she cooks like one: swordfish with toasted cardamom for her pescatarian stepdaughter, herb-flecked Mediterranean meatballs on an Instagram Live with the celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. But she’s not immune to the humble charms of ice cream, gumbo, Popeye’s chicken, red-velvet cupcakes, or bacon, which she describes as a “spice” in her household. She comes off as sincere in her love of food but discerning in her tastes. When a 10-year-old recently asked her at an event what her favorite taco filling was, she answered with the kind of absorbed expression that she might otherwise display when explaining foreign policy on the debate stage: carnitas with cilantro and lime, no raw onions.

Invoking food on the campaign trail is a cliché for a reason: Eating is an easy and extremely literal way to prove that you are a human being. But the Democratic Party has not always been great at it. In 2003, John Kerry visited the Philadelphia cheesesteak institution Pat’s and asked for a sandwich not with the traditional Whiz, American, or Provolone, but with Swiss. If voters needed proof that he was something other than the eggheady elitist they thought he was, this wasn’t it: In Philly, Swiss is “an alternative lifestyle,” The Philadelphia Inquirer’s food critic, Craig LaBan, said at the time. One does not get the sense that Walz or Harris would stride into Pat’s and ask for Swiss—not because they’re self-consciously avoiding a gaffe, but because they have deep respect for America’s foodways and are interested in enjoying food however it is meant to be enjoyed.

Their approach makes a marked departure both from the Obama era—what with its well-meaning but not entirely fun focus on childhood obesity, and its notorious seven almonds—and from the current leaders of the Republican Party. Donald Trump doesn’t really talk about liking eating; he does, famously, consume a lot of fast food, but that is reportedly because he’s afraid of being poisoned, not because fast food tastes amazing. His most well-known food tweet—“Happy #CincoDeMayo! The best taco bowls are made in Trump Tower Grill. I love Hispanics!”—reads like an obligatory plug rather than an earnest celebration of the way the taco bowl itself looks, smells, and tastes: all business, no pleasure. Meanwhile, Trump’s running mate, J. D. Vance, says he loves Diet Mountain Dew, but he seems mostly to be mad about it. To the degree that he has gotten specific about why he likes the beverage, the praise is purely functional: “high caffeine, low calorie.” The primary message here is that food is the site not of delight and togetherness but of anxiety and alienation, or utilitarianism at best. It’s all a little, well, weird.

Food is one of the most universally beloved things on planet Earth. Aligning a presidential campaign with it is smart for all the obvious reasons, but for the Harris-Walz ticket, it’s also a signal. The rhetorical challenge of progressivism is that it is by nature abstract: It imagines a world that does not yet exist, rather than advocating to return to some previous version of the one we know. I find it telling that Walz keeps using the word joy when he talks about the campaign and about his running mate. It’s an uncomplicated message, one that’s even more concrete than Barack Obama’s hope: Hope is the future, but joy is the present. It’s cold milk on a hot day; a perfectly cracked egg; a steaming casserole dish full of God knows what, enjoyed at a crowded table. In foregrounding food, Harris and Walz are making theirs the candidacy of terrestrial pleasure and straightforward abundance. It’s simple, really. —Ellen Cushing

[leclsrc]

hiii! could i request a charles fluff where he and y/n kinda have like some tradition that they do together or something. and its just special to them? like going traveling or even something ordinary like cleaning the house? sorry i'm a total sucker for these lmao

again late, so late, sorry! but i am trying to catch up w these olddd reqs hahshdhs. shoutout again to mack who live messaged me ab a grocery trip and inspired much of this ily. title from this

things lovers do – cl16

“And we’re out of limes, I think.” You say, humming as you review the contents of your fridge.

“Do we even use them that much?” Charles asks from the dinner table. He stares at the list, where he’s written the word limes. He holds a pen to the left of it, prepares to draw it across the word, but your own words of protest stop him. What—of course we use limes, you say.

“I don’t recall us making guacamole, is all.”

You shut the fridge, laughing and walking over to where he sits, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Together, you peruse the crumpled list, of words written and erased in Charles’ messy penmanship. There’s romaine, lemon, pasta, ciabatta. Assorted gum, because Charles likes to chew it while working. Coffee beans, because a day without them renders you half-deceased. 

This is a weekly thing—reviews of the grocery list, on the dinner table with two glasses of wine. Anyone can love, but not everyone can sit and be patient and browse every last item of the fridge and pantry to determine what needs to be added. And through the list you’re provided with a window for the week: Monday night dinner with pasta, Wednesday breakfast with ciabatta, a romaine salad for Thursday brunch.

If you told your six-year-old self that your best memories with your boyfriend would be formulating grocery lists, she would pout in your face. Boyfriend? She’d ask petulantly. Don’t we get to marry a prince, with a horse and a castle? No, you’d say. We get to have a prince, yes, but he has a car and a house in Monaco. Is that good enough? If it isn’t, he makes a mean set of pancakes.

Do we get to dance with him at a ball? It’s still a no, you’d tell her. The dancing happens in the kitchen, lit only by the yellow of the stovetop range while you play Harvest Moon and sway softly to the guitar. It happens by the fridge, when a Bee Gees song comes on and Charles can’t resist holding you by the waist and lifting you up to join his dancing. It happens while you wait for toast in the morning, when both the bread and the weather are in the middle of cool and warm, to Al Green on the radio. 

This love of grocery lists and airplane rides sure doesn’t live up to your six-year-old self’s fairytale standards, or your sixteen-year-old’s hopes of marrying Harry Styles. You think, however, that it far surpasses anything you could ever have wanted. 

His voice draws you out of your reverie. “You okay? You’re a bit quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you reassure, pressing a kiss to his hair and smiling. “Of things.” Of us, of toast and tea, of romance and loving you and making lists and loving you and God, loving you. “Lots of things.”

“…Is this because I added too much junk food?”

“No, God,” you say, fond. “It’s nothing.”

“I love you,” he says back. And if you ever doubted it, there would always be limes, written without erasure on this crumpled list on the dinner table.

[shadoedseptmbr]

It’s a nice memory.

She’s poolside with a bunch of folks she hasn’t seen in awhile, but is happy to see. Her hair’s back to sunstreaked brown for all the interviews she’s been doing for the early leap to grad school dirtside, where they don’t want their students too high maintenance and her blue and purple waves were a little too much.

The lime green bikini was in her drawer where she’d left it two years ago and it’s probably too small but hey.

Girl’s gotta live while she’s young.

And it made dad’s blood pressure go up, which is where she likes it. Scott rebels his way, enlisting even though dad had him a place at the academy. She’s got her own.

Mom laughed, that rusty laugh. She looks good, tan and her face filling back out, so maybe the docs are wrong.

So she’s having a good time. There’s a drink in her hand she’s not exactly legal for, but it’s a family party.

And it’s flattering when someone it takes her a blink to recognize slides into the space Bobbi left when she went for a swim.

Someone with an easy going grin, a hint of silver to his hair, a pair of gorgeous eyes, and a low purr to his, “So, I don’t think we’ve met but…”

Right before he blinks wide and nearly swallows his tongue. “Sara?”

“Hiya, Harry.”

[sewerfight]

Booty shorts that say Presenting Orson Welles as The Third Man: The Lives Of Harry Lime. The fabulous stories of the immortal character, originally created in the motion picture The Third Man, with zither music by Anton Karas. BANG! That was the shot that killed Harry Lime. He died in a sewer beneath Vienna, as those of you know who saw the movie The Third Man. Yes, that was the end of Harry Lime. But it was not the beginning. Harry Lime had many lives, and I can recall all of them. How do I know? Very simple. Because my name is Harry Lime.

[gurugirl]

The Con Artist | Part 1*

Summary: You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This will be a short series (3-7? parts). The Con Artist Masterlist

6.7k words

Warning: Criminal activity detailed (drugging, stealing, conning), smut (oral sex)

◈ ◈ ◈

The first time you remember stealing anything was when you were about three years old. From what you recall, you were with your mother at a dollar store of some sort. On the bottom shelf in one of the aisles was a pretty mirrored compact. It snapped close with a satisfying click and opened up easily for your three-year-old hands and so you put it into your mother’s purse as she was bringing you out of the store.

Being three years old, though, you forgot all about the mirrored compact when she surprised you with a toy she bought for you. The next day she came across the stolen item and somehow, she knew you’d done it. Because maybe there had been some sort of pattern. You just can’t remember stealing before that day.

But then you started stealing clothes from the mall when you were older. Lip balm (you became fond of the Chanel lip balm in Light but frequently settled for a Lancôme or Clinique as they were usually easier to snatch up), candles (the expensive ones to make it worth your while), pens, and lighters. You stole anything small enough to be taken without anyone noticing.

The only time you ever got caught was when your mom found the mirrored case in her purse when you were three. Even now, 23 years later. Here you are, stealing for a living. The man lying on the bed you are standing next to is knocked out cold. You may or may not have slipped him a little something to send him off to sleepy time before he could take his pants off, but that was the game. He wanted something and so did you.

Yours was a simple grift. Straight men are easy. All you have to do is hang out in really nice clubs and bars near the nice neighborhoods. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Compliment the man. Compliment him some more. Laugh at his attempt at flirting and play dumb. Definitely laugh at his jokes. Act dumb. Sit alone. Bat your lashes. That kind of bullshit.

The man would need to be rich, or if not rich, showy and cocky (because how fucking annoying is a showy cocky asshole with nothing to actually show for it?). You typically looked for a nice watch (Rolex is easy to spot, but the really expensive watches are Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe). He’d need to be a little drunk. Or even desperate is fine. Sometimes drunk isn’t necessary. You just need to get him to take you to his home. Never to yours. Married men would suggest a hotel. And that could work too, under the right circumstances. And married men were special because they’d never report you.

Then, once you’re in his house you suggest a nightcap, a drink for your nerves you say (a lie because you don’t drink alcohol) and insist on making them yourself. Drop in enough crushed benzos and voila. The man thinks he’s about to get laid but he falls asleep fast and you steal his cash and his jewelry. And sometimes a few other things you can take with you on your way out the door.

Tonight’s meal is a married man but his wife is out of town. The “house” is in Hope Ranch but it’s more like a mansion. It’s massive and the guy is loaded. That’s all you care about.

You served him a gin and tonic with a lime wedge and 10 mg of crushed-up benzos. You poured yourself a tonic and chucked a lime in for good measure, so it looked like you were drinking too.

He brought you to his room after drinking his glass of nighty-night juice and you could tell it was taking effect. He fell asleep almost too quickly. But who were you to complain? His wallet was lying on the coffee table and his Rolex was an easy snag. You were out the door in less than an hour. He only had about $50 cash in his wallet but the Rolex would be worth around nine thousand dollars for you. You loved the dumbasses with the expensive watches the most. Rolexes are a dime a dozen. They’re the easiest to come by and the easiest to get rid of.

By the time you get back to your little studio, it’s past 3 am. You don’t live in the best part of LA but it’s also not bad. Koreatown has its moments. The supposedly haunted Gaylord Apartments studio has been your home for the last two years. You truly could afford something nicer but it’s hard to imagine paying more than you already do for rent. It’s a waste of money really. You’re living fine and saving your cash. You don’t want to be a thief all your life. Just for long enough to save up so you can go anywhere you want, buy a house for cash, and live out your days as an old maid who never found love. Because love seems like a pipe dream at this point.

Men suck. But then again, you’re not really much of a catch yourself. So ending up alone is probably your true calling. You’ll buy a bunch of books, get a few cats, maybe grow a garden and wear robes all day long. Drink cold juice and watch murder mysteries at night with your cats all curled up around you, and fall asleep on your couch because sleeping alone in your bed just sounds depressing. And maybe you’ll do some traveling. Who knows? You’ve amassed a decent amount of money. You’ve given yourself until 30 and then you’ll call it quits. Just a few more years.

At the Gaylord, you’re not allowed to have pets, but you can have fish. You crouch down to look into your aquarium and see that Buster and Barry are fine. They usually are. They’re pea puffers. Kind of cute really. But Buster killed his first mate, Brenda.  When you introduced Barry, Buster left him alone. Buster and Barry don’t usually interact which is why they get along. You had no idea that puffers could tend to be aggressive but when Brenda was found belly up in the 10-gallon tank one Thursday evening after you’d secured a nice Saint Laurent coat and a Royal Oak Piguet, you were quite disappointed. You’d had such a good night too. The Royal Oak was worth close to $60 thousand. And the coat was just an extra on your way out the door. But poor Brenda. Dead in a day.

You turned off their fish tank light, “Goodnight boys.”

At night, when you were alone in your bed you’d think about the things you’d done. You never really found guilt anytime you thought back. You did feel like what you were doing was wrong, though. You knew that much, you just didn’t feel that bad about any of it, though. You’d made yourself a nice small fortune and you did it doing something you loved. Why did you love stealing from unsuspecting idiot men?

Who knows?

You had a mostly-typical upbringing. Your mom and dad split when you were five and you saw your dad every other weekend like most of your friends with their dads.

Your mom was a good mom. She took care of you. Loved you. Protected you. Encouraged you.

You didn’t have an unusual childhood. Others who had it far worse turned out normal. You had no excuse. No trauma to point at. No mental health problems ran in the family. No vendetta against men. Nothing to prove.

You just liked it. There was a thrill that came with it. And the better you got at it, the more fun it was. And you loathed the idea of working a regular job somewhere earning a living wage. A living wage. What a joke. You were earning like a CEO and not once did you ever have to put out for anyone you didn’t want to. Everything was on your terms.

You could sleep in as late as you wanted. Skip a day of work if you chose, never needing to call anyone to tell them you were taking a sick day. You could do two in one day if you were on a roll. Or you could abandon ship if the man you started chatting up turned out to be someone you could actually see yourself fucking. Because you did draw the line there.

If you started to become interested in the guy, or he was attractive enough, and he invited you back to his place you would have a choice to make. You could stay the course, drug him, and then steal his watch and his money or you could just have a fun night with an attractive man at his place. You wouldn’t steal from someone you’d slept with. You had some moral boundaries.

You were nice, though. You weren’t like a bitch to anyone. But I guess ask any of the men you’d stolen from and they’d have a different mind about that. You had a small handful of friends. You didn’t like letting people get too close, though. For good reason. Because when you got close it became harder to hide your dark secret. People always asked what you did for a living. What an intrusive question to ask anyone. You always made up some lie about working online and inputting data for a medical corporation. Something that pointed to you making just enough money that would explain your nice clothes and expensive purses, but also that would have you home during the day.

Your best friend, Raechel knows your secret. Probably your mom as well. Also, Josh who buys your stolen goods but that’s a different story. But that’s it. In the whole wide world, you have one person that you’ve told directly what you do (again, not counting Josh). Because you couldn’t hide it anymore. And Raechel is still around. She’s your best friend. Now your mom, well, you never told her but she knows. She’s not dumb.

Bright and early the next morning, if you can consider 11:30 am bright and early, you headed to your dealer slash fence man, Josh, after shooting him a message that you were on your way.

You had with you the white dial Rolex Daytona you took off of whatever his name was the night before. Now, this watch is worth about $20,000 but Josh would take a big cut of the profit because he was the one going and selling the stolen item, he needed to make money from the deal too. Plus whoever he sold it to wouldn’t pay him the full $20,000 either, because they also needed to make a profit.

You met him in your usual spot. He took a look at the jewelry and searched for the model reference number to make sure of its value. Then you left with $8,500 in cash and a quarter ounce of Girl Scout Cookies (that’s a nice strain of marijuana bud to clarify).

The bank wouldn’t take big ass deposits like that at a time or there’d be some kind of flag on your account and it would get reported to the IRS (protocol), so you generally would only deposit $3,000 at a time. Which also meant you had a large stash of cash in your apartment at all times. You tried to space out the deposits. Had multiple bank accounts at different banks, and went to different branches in different locations but cash was difficult to work with at times. It was the only part of the job you hated. Dealing with all that cash. Especially when you preferred to save most of it. You usually bought yourself nice things, but most of your money you didn’t touch. You were serious about your future plan of buying a house for cash and getting lots of cats.

Tonight you planned on going to the Warwick again. The last time you were there was six months ago. You’d gotten a big hit with a B-list celebrity and you didn’t want to show your face around there for a while just in case he found you there or anyone recognized you somehow. Six months seemed like a good amount of time to wait.

You stopped at your favorite café and picked up a latte and scone to go. Then you walked to Liberty Park to drink and eat your breakfast slash lunch in the sunshine.

You wondered who would be at the club tonight. The Warwick was usually crawling with celebrities (lots of money). You knew how to handle them all. It really didn’t take much though. Look cute, act dumb. Usually. There were a few times you’d encountered a celebrity or wealthy man who was looking for someone with substance, but that wasn’t what you were going for. You searched for the ones who wanted one fun night and nothing more.

You were sitting on the concrete ledge near the sculpture and sipping your hot latte when a shadow appeared blocking the sun from your body. You looked up to see a tall man looking down at you. Instantly you sat up straight. He was very attractive.

“Hi… I was hoping you could point me in the direction of The Ritz Carlton. I seem to be lost…” he looked at his cell phone and then held its screen to your face and you laughed, placing your latte down next to you.

You stood up and smiled and noticed he didn’t have a watch on his wrist (old habit), “You’re definitely lost. The nearest Ritz is gonna be like a 45-minute walk from here. It’s that way,” you pointed in the direction of the 110, though it couldn’t be seen from where you were.

“Fuck. Well, thank you, I guess. I’m new here and went for a walk and found myself enjoying the sun and now here I am. Lost puppy in a big city.”

The man had thick, dark hair, seafoam green eyes with a dark green limbal ring, richly pigmented lips, and a jawline that could cut rock. And he was British. Clearly from out of town.

You held out your hand and introduced yourself and he quickly wrapped his big paw around yours and you saw the tattoo on his wrist. His clothes didn’t indicate that he was well-off. But sometimes it was hard to tell. Some rich guys didn’t give a fuck. This one didn’t. If he was, in fact, wealthy.

“Harry. Nice to meet you. S’hard finding a friendly face in a new city. Do you live here?”

“I do. Not far from here. What are you in town for, Harry?” You asked, keeping eye contact. You didn’t know if you should size him up for a job or see if you could get him to take you back to his hotel for a fuck. This guy looked like he could fuck. Tall and broad, deep voice, and big hands. A dimpled smile.

“Ahh, just work. Plan to be here for about a month. Staying at The Ritz off Olympic while I’m in town,” he smirked at you and that was all you needed to hear to know he was interested. Yeah, you’d fuck him.

“Is that so? For a month huh? Here, let me give you my number, ya know, in case you need anyone to show you around. A friendly face like you said…” you gestured toward his phone so you could put your number in and he unlocked it and opened up his messages app.

You were bold. You had no problem picking up a guy to fuck. You just needed to be somewhat straightforward. Your jobs were different. Playing coy was the game when they wanted to feel like they were in charge. But when it came to actually fucking someone, you were in charge and you wanted them to know it.

“Seems quite forward to give your number to a complete stranger, Y/n,” he spoke your name, wrapping his lips around the vowels in the most sensual way. That mouth of his could do some damage. You swallowed.

You laughed and shrugged, “Not really. It’s just a number. Now, what you do with it is up to you. If you’re bold, you’ll use it.”

Harry grinned at you and the way you nearly let your knees buckle when you saw his dimples was not a normal reaction. But Harry was gorgeous. You'd let him fuck you if he was into it. Absolutely. This man could get it from the top to the bottom. He was well-muscled and sturdy under his clothes. Something told you he’d have a big dick too and you’d love to let him use it on you.

You shook yourself of your thoughts and Harry cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll certainly consider calling you,” he lifted his cell phone upward as he spoke.

You were a little disappointed by his remark. Consider calling you? What the fuck? Maybe he wasn’t straight. Would explain why you found him attractive. All the hot ones were some shade of gay. But he was flirting with you... Wasn’t he?

Harry waved as he walked off and you sat back down to finish your latte and dry scone.

◈ ◈ ◈

You got yourself dolled up and tried to erase the way you were feeling annoyed that Harry hadn’t messaged you or called you. You gave him your number. You were rarely rejected. Unless he was gay… You laughed at yourself as you sprayed your hair to hold the style and then looked at your phone again. It was 9 pm. The perfect time to show up at the Warwick. It was time to work.

You were let in with no problem, despite the long line to get in. No cover for you. You got yourself a soda water with lemon and sauntered around the perimeter. Lots of groups tonight. Some of the guys watched you walk by. But you were specific. Precise about the men you worked. The young ones in the groups were probably spending more than they could afford to be there. Not your type. You moved along the lower room until you spotted a group of men sitting together. Now, these guys were job material. Men with money.

You neared them slowly, sipping your soda water until one of them looked up and saw you. You smiled at him and kept walking until you found a place to sit where you could be in the sight line of the man with whom you smiled. He had his eyes on you alright.

You’d give it ten minutes before heading their way. Just to see if he’d come to you first. Just to see if he was into feeling like he had the upper hand. Sometimes older men preferred more traditional roles and liked to be the aggressor. Oh, little did they know…

You swung your left leg over your right one, letting your dress ride up your thigh so he could see what you were working with. You smiled at him again and then looked away, pretending to be caught in the act.

But then suddenly someone sat down next to you, catching you off guard. You jerked your neck toward the intruder (this was not uncommon), ready to tell him to buzz off when you were met with the warm smile of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your look of disdain quickly turned to one of excitement and you couldn’t help the smile that crawled over your face at the sight of Harry. He was in a suit; his hair was styled just so with a thick curl falling over his forehead. He had rings on his fingers and he looked like he’d been drinking a little with dazed-out eyes on yours.

“Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his gaze dropped down to your dress and your thigh and then back up to your face.

You mimicked his display, dragging your eyes down his frame and back up to his handsome face, “It’s been a while since I’ve been out. Felt like a good night to have some fun.”

The man you’d scoped, was long forgotten as you and Harry began to chat. He was alone at Warwick. Like you. And he was hot. He was clearly a bit tipsy with the way he was so loose with touching your arm and your hand, the way he’d pause his eyes at your lips as you spoke.

The thing that really got you worked up was how he’d lean in to speak into your ear so you could hear him. It was necessary to do because the club was so loud, but you fucking loved having him so close you could smell him and feel his voice vibrating off your ear.

“You look amazing,” he said as he plucked at the hem of your short dress, his fingers brushing against the skin on your thigh as he did so. Probably on purpose. Definitely on purpose.

You decided he’d be worth the work raincheck. You’d let him fuck you. And it seemed like that’s just what he wanted when his eyes settled on yours and he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked. You were a-okay with abandoning ship for a hot night with Harry. Work could wait. This man before you, flirting with you and watching your lips as you spoke was ripe for the taking. You didn’t want to miss the chance to try him out in the sack.

Just like he said, the taxi stopped at The Ritz-Carlton on Olympic and he took you up to his room. In the taxi on the way to his hotel, he scooped his arm behind your back and pulled you into his side, brushed your hair from your neck, and put his mouth next to your ear, “You sure you want to do this?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Yeah, that happened. That never happens. Not to you. You were the one making men’s breath hitch. But Harry had some kind of natural charm about him that matched your own energy. A panty-dropper. But it helped that he was so goddamn fine with a deep British accent and dazzling eyes.

The room didn’t appear to have been slept in, but that’s probably due to the strict housekeeping staff taking care to clean up behind their guests.

You kicked your heels off near the door and Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front. He kissed your neck first. You were admittedly caught off guard by his energy. He was quite forward and confident.

You leaned your head to the side and smiled when you felt him in your back, poking you with what you knew was going to be a big cock. He was already very turned on.

You turned in his arms to face him and slid your hands up to his shoulders and kept your eyes on his, “I don’t usually do things like this…” you spoke innocently.

Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. The look on his face said he didn’t believe you, “Me neither.” You certainly didn’t believe him.

You lifted yourself upward on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. You had had enough of the back and forth. It was time to get down to it. Harry’s cock was hard and your panties were wet. That’s all that was necessary at that moment. Talk could wait.

Harry gripped your waist and walked you backward to his bed with his mouth attached to yours. You let go of his shoulders and slid yourself back onto the bed as he crawled after you. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down to you, lips locking together in haste.

Putting your leg over his hip you bucked yourself upward to feel his hard-on under his pants and you moaned at the bulk of him.

“Get your pants off, Harry,” you cooed as you palmed over him. Harry sat back and removed his shirt and there was nothing in you that was disappointed by what you saw. More dark tattoos covering his chest and his arms. His body was masculine and sculpted exactly to your preference. Firm with smooth skin and a smattering of hair at his pecs and under his belly button.

You moved your arms behind your back and unzipped your dress and let it fall down your arms. You were wearing a special bra that was sticky on your breasts, which you’d forgotten about until that moment. It was difficult to remove in one quick go because the sticky inside was super sticky so it stayed put. You sat up and turned away from him as he began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

Pulling the bra away from your skin slowly you looked over your shoulder and Harry was looking at you with his brows scrunched in confusion. You laughed and when you’d removed the bra lifted it upward so he could see, “It’s a sticky bra and it’s awkward to take off. Didn’t want you to see it coming off. It’s less magical that way.”

Harry spit out a laugh as he visually inspected the bra and he nodded, “Okay. If you say so,” taking the bra from your hand and tossing it on the bed. Harry was only in black briefs when he put his hands up to cup your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. He pushed you back into the bed with his lips smoothing against yours and he settled himself in between your legs. You were left in only your nude thong. Harry’s briefs-covered cock was pressed right over your pussy. He was thick. You knew he was something special down there. He rocked down over you and licked into your mouth. His solid arms kept his torso held up while his hips were pressed down over you.

You bent your right leg at the knee and spread a bit for him to access you better and he moaned.

“You’re getting me wet even through your underwear. Need something, Y/n?” His cocky smirk was warranted. You hated a cocky man but Harry had every reason to be. He was delectable.

“I need you, Harry. S’why I’m here right now,” you spoke in your sultriest voice and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry brought his mouth down slowly, his warm lips pecking and licking a cherished path down toward your breasts. He palmed and sucked at them. You arched your back and panted. He wasn’t going easy on your nipples as he pulled each into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your areola. His nips caused you to moan loudly into the room.

He moved his head further down and you knew what was coming. But in all honesty, you hadn’t shaved in a while. You were full-on bush down there. You didn’t expect to be getting laid tonight. You were on a job when you saw Harry at the club. You got all dolled up, shaved your legs, and did what needed to be done. But no more than what was necessary.

When he got to your hips you braced yourself for him to see your pussy in its natural state. He put his fingers into the band at your hips and looked up at you as he slid them down slowly. You craned your neck up to see what his expression was when he finally took you in.

He saw your bush. You saw him pause at your pussy but he continued dragging your panties downward. You held your breath when he put himself back between your legs and lowered his face to your inner thigh, planting a hot kiss very close to the curve of where your ass and your cunt met.

“Can I?” He looked up at you, his mouth parted in lust. You weren’t going to say no to head. If he wanted to get down there with your wild garden of desire and wrap his mouth around your clit you’d let him.

“Yes,” you smiled but felt yourself blush a little at the idea of being munched on while you’re pussy-scaping was nonexistent.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. He put his lips over your mound and went to town. Like all the way into town and back home again, then back to the strip so he could have dinner and seconds. He found all the parts that needed to be found under your pubic hair. You settled yourself back into the pillow and relaxed. Harry was a man who liked pussy clearly. He wasn’t deterred by the bush one bit.

Your clit was being given sufficient attention when he began to use his fingers in your crease, softly stroking you up and down until he placed his middle finger right at your hole. He prodded it in a bit and you looked down at him between your thighs. He had his eyes closed, his tongue lapping at you then you watched as his lips found your clit and he pulled at it, sucking you into his mouth and you gasped. He was good. This man was hot and he was good at giving head?

“Fuck, Harry! Right there…” you moaned your words, needing to let him know to keep up with what he was doing. He was going to get you off fast this way.

Harry moaned into your pussy and opened his eyes when he heard you and he nuzzled in further, shaking his head left to right quickly and slurping your clit just as he inserted a second finger. You felt it go in. Harry’s fingers were long and he was getting the job done nicely.

You arched your back at the distinct feeling of heat traveling from your groin outward. You slid one of your hands down and placed your fingers into his thick hair. Something you’d wanted to do since you first saw him earlier in the day. You just had no idea it would be happening while he was expertly eating you out in his hotel room at the Ritz.

You bucked upward toward him and panted, “I’m gonna come, Harry… please….” Your voice was shaky and your orgasm was beginning to blossom. Harry was making a mess of his face with your arousal as he dug in further, one hand holding you down while his other kept his fingers stroking your walls just like you needed.

The snap fuzzed up your hearing for a moment. Your ears rang as you came in his mouth, your body stiffening and jolting with each stroke of his tongue. You were sure you were speaking but your mouth and your brain didn’t meet up as you quivered under the man who was lapping at your pussy like there was no hair in the way.

You opened your eyes when Harry kissed both sides of your hips and sat back. He looked down at you with a grin as your chest was rising and falling quickly, “Holy shit. That was the fastest I’ve ever come from… that.”

Harry chuckled and got off the bed. He walked toward the dresser and you could see his hard cock pressing against the front of his dark briefs. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water and brought them to the bed. Pouring a glass for himself and for you. He sat down next to you as you sat up and handed you the glass, which you happily guzzled down. Harry did the same. You hoped he wasn’t washing away the taste of your hairy pussy. That would be embarrassing.

“Sorry. About the lack of trimming. I really didn’t expect to show anyone the goods tonight,” you laughed. It was so ridiculous for you to be apologizing for that. It was natural for most women to have hair on their crotch. Just like it was for men. You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. Maybe it was because Harry was so incredibly attractive.

Harry’s brows pinched together and he frowned, “Really? I mean, I don’t care about the hair, but you weren’t thinking you were gonna laid tonight? Looking like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Truly.”

“Well, you have a beautiful pussy. I doubt anyone would ever kick you out of bed for going au natural. Doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to brush the back of your hand over his cock, “What about you? Do your trim?” You smirked.

Harry laughed through his nose and took your glass, placing his and yours on the side table before covering your hand with his and pressing your palm down on his lengthy cock. He brought his other hand up to you, his fingers at your neck and thumb over your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you.

When he backed away from the kiss he looked down to where he had your palm pressed over him, “Why don’t you check.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief but smiled and took the top band of his underwear in your hands and pulled at it, lowering the material and seeing the smattering of hair at his low stomach turn into a darker, thatch before his cock sprung out. The cock was a total distraction. You had forgotten all about the hair when you saw his large organ standing out.

Harry lifted his hips and helped you pull his underwear down. He was certainly nicely built. That was for sure.

You smiled at him and then looked back down at the masterpiece between his legs and leaned in to kiss the tip. Harry moved back, putting his arms behind him to give you space to worship him.

You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips came into contact with the tip of his crown and then you looked up at him, “May I?”

Harry nodded quickly and you stuck your tongue out to lick him up and down. You had a lot of area to cover with his penis but you managed to lick him from base to tip all around. He was very hard in your hand. Heavy and thick. You stuck your tongue softly into the slit at his head and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

Just as you wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue over his frenulum he jolted his hips and gasped, “Wait, god… hold on…” his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you off.

You looked up at him and then sat back, causing his hand to fall away from your neck.

“I’m not going to assume you wanted to have sex, but I kind of wanted to,” he kept his dark eyes on you.

You hated giving blow jobs if you were honest and Harry’s cock was going to cause some damage to your tonsils you could already tell. That monster might not even fit quite well enough for you to really get the job done anyway.

“So, you don’t want a blow job?” You queried, just to be sure.

“I love a good blow job, but…” he looked down and laughed as he shook his head and then set his eyes back on yours with a goofy grin, “this,” he gestured toward his crotch, “tends to take a little training. Not the easiest man to suck off.”

You raised your brows and scoffed, “So, you’re saying that you think your cock is so fat that I’d have trouble taking it down my throat and you’re giving me an easy out and offering to fuck me with that instead of choking me with it?”

Harry barked out a laugh and nodded, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“Thank God, because that thing is quite daunting. Would rather have it in my vagina than my throat, so thank you for that,” you couldn’t believe this man, but he wasn’t wrong. In all honesty, he probably got used to this spiel. It kind of sounded like he’d said it all before.

“So you do want to have sex?” Harry repeated to be sure.

You rolled your eyes and climbed over his thighs, pushing at his chest to bring his back down to the mattress. You straddled his hips and put your unshaven pussy over his cock and then kissed him as your answer. You rolled your hips up and down and Harry grabbed your ass and guided you up and down along his shaft.

There was a lot of girth to rub yourself on with him so your clit was being pressed into on each stroke. Harry moaned into your mouth and pressed you down harder over him as he rocked upward, pressing himself between your slick folds.

“Come on…” he breathed out, “I’ve got a condom,” he said and nudged you up. You stayed in his lap as he leaned over and pulled out a condom from the side table. You found it interesting that he had a condom there being that this was a hotel room. You knew the pattern of men staying in hotels.

Condoms would typically be kept in the luggage or a wallet. Unless the man was expecting company… But you decided to let it go. So what if he was expecting company? Maybe he planned on getting lucky tonight when he went out and thought ahead by putting condoms conveniently in the side table (which is odd for a man to think ahead like that). A woman, now she would think ahead and put condoms in the side table because women think about things like that. Men don’t. Not normally. It’s not a big deal, but it’s also out of character for a man staying in a hotel that he only very recently checked into.

“You okay?” Harry asked you, making you realize you were stuck in your head a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’m totally good,” you nodded feeling a bit like you were missing something important. Like you were being forewarned of something by the tiny revelation you just had.

You took a breath and tried to push the sudden inexplicable feeling you had down. You wanted him to fuck you. Of course, you did. But what was that feeling you were getting? This sense that something was off? You knew to trust your senses. You had a good read on people and something was not quite right. And you saw him twice in one day? In LA of all places? A strange man from out of town? Yeah… something was off.

You put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and frowned, “I’m… sorry…” you pinched your brows together as you slid off of his lap, “I think I should go.”

Part 2

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[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

Masterpost

Hello Everyone! 💞 This is my completely unnecessary masterpost but I hope you like it. When I was making it I felt like I was creating the stories of a fictional character but to be honest it was fun! Also it satisfies my need for things to be organized and tidy so maybe it's not entirely unnecessary. Anyway enjoy! 💞

p.s this is the first part because i couldn't fit them all in one. (here's part two)

p.s i do not own the pictures. credits to the owners. i do not claim that they belong to me. (i usually do my research on pinterest and most of the times it's hard to find the original owner).

| Collages |

Harry's hands pt.2 pt.3

Harry's arms

Harry's thighs

Long Haired Harry pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

Harry's new era pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

Just how fast the night changes pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

Harry and Snoopy

As it was anniversary

Harry playing the guitar pt.2

Londonrry

Italyrry

Japanrry

Japanrry (bday edition)

Harry and backwards hats

Harry, Mitch and Sarah (bonus baby scout)

Harry is too precious for this world pt.2

Bts with Harry

Pouty Harry

Cliprry

Bunrry

Boyfriendrry pt.2

Harry's powerful stare

Harry's an uncle (and Gemma's a mum)

The Styles siblings

Birthday Boy (sweet 30)

Harry is squishy

Harry flying commercial

Harry at the airport

Harry is the king of dental hygiene

Harry whistling

Harry driving

Harry eating

Harry golfing

Harry in details pt.2

Harry's lips pt.2

Harry being a Packers Fan

Harry and his lime bike

Harry for Rolling Stone Magazine

Moustache Harry pt.2

Comfy Harry

Shy Harry

Emotional Harry

Sparkly Harry pt.2(kinda)

Satellite Harry

Random Harry pt.2

Backstage with Harry pt.2

Harry's 2023 recap

Harry's street style

Harry in jumpsuits

Harry in a towel

Harry at the studio pt.2

Fine line is four years old

Fine line changed lives

Fine line photoshooting pt.2

Harry being horny in his lyrics

Harry and Anne

Harry and Mitch

Harry and Niall (matching outfits)

Harry and Niall being spotify besties

Cute thing about Harry pt.2

Everyone needs a Harry in their life

Harry can do both pt.2 pt.3

Harry on the Late Late Show through the years

Harry’s Rehearsal Outfits For The Today Show

Harry’s Outfits For The Today Show

Harry at Brits pt.2

Harry in Summertime Ball

Harry is art

Harry's facial expressions pt. 1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

[wolfpants]

friday wip snip

So @tackytigerfic shared this absolutely devastating wip snip (seriously this fic will kill me, I cannot wait to scream about it when it's released into the world), and I got in the mood to share something too, so, here we are. for @dronarryfest - pro-Chess player Ron (who lives abroad), journalist/writer Draco, layabout/man about town/inventor Harry. Pining, Malta, 60s and 70s vinyls, and plenty of smoking. Here's an entire scene - a dream sequence of the longing variety. Draco and Harry have just arrived in Malta and are travelling from the Portkey terminal by car to meet Ron.

Draco is wandering through the empty Hogwarts library. There’s a light, just up ahead and out of reach. It looks like a lamp; one of those little things with the pleated shades, the kind he would use when he was reading the much older books, because the text was always broken up and faded in some way, difficult to see without extra light and his glasses.

Back then, no one had known about his glasses. No one except him.

“Draco.”

A whisper. Passed casually against the shell of his ear. Warm breath. Fingers tickling at his back. The shelves around him fade, fold in on each other. The room’s different now.

“You’ve got freckles here.”

They’re in bed. The curtains are closed, but a Lumos orb bounces and bobs above their heads, rolling against the canopied hangings like it has a mind of its own. It casts Draco’s bedmate’s hair into different shades—vermillion, russet, amber, gold. It falls against Draco’s naked shoulder, his name whispered again, this time hotly and against skin.

“Draco.”

Draco stirs awake, gulping a great mouthful of stale, hot air.

“Draco,” Harry says. He laughs. Cranks the gearshift. The car shudders then stills. “We’re here.”

“Sorry.” Draco wipes at his eyes, unfolding himself from his sprawl against the seat to sit upright. “I fell asleep.”

“You sure you want to go to a bar?” Harry says. He unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for him, brushing hair from Draco’s forehead. “We could just go straight to bed instead.”

Draco grabs Harry’s hand before he can pull away and turns it, brushing a kiss against the inside of his wrist. Harry’s mouth softens. He curls his fingers around Draco’s.

Draco can smell his shower gel—their shower gel—lime and basil and sea salt. Any remembered scents from that bed in the old Hogwarts tower fade; Draco feels bad for wanting to chase them.

“No, I want to,” he says. “We should at least say goodnight to him, you know?”

Harry pulls his lips into his mouth and nods. He lets go of Draco’s hand.

“Let’s drop our bags and go,” he says.

-

Tagging the FrotCotLot, @wrapped-up, @skeptiquewrites, @oknowkiss, @getawayfox, @thehoneybeet, @citrusses, @the-starryknight and anyone who feels like sharing their wips!

[dorianbluee]

The Third Man and IWTV S2

Hello, hello. I am a film nerd (specifically noir). This is gonna be a long post! After the third episode, I noticed some really interesting parallels the episode three, especially visually, has with the film The Third Man.

Set in post-WWII Vienna, the 1949 film follows Holly Martins, an unsuccessful American author, searching for his childhood friend, Harry Lime, who offered him a job there. Quickly, Holly gets pulled into a web of deceit after finding out that Harry is dead. Meanwhile, the city has been divided into districts overseen by Britain, the US, and Russia, meaning that no one can pass through it without facing scrutiny. Holly wanders the bombed-out streets of the city, trying to find out how and why his friend got murdered. In a twist, Holly discovers that Harry was never dead, and has been secretly navigating the torn up city through the sewer system the whole time. Harry had been watching Holly throughout everything.

That remind you of anyone? The scene of Louis and Armand in the sewer, though not a literal chase, bears a visual and thematic resemblance.

In this scene, Armand exerts a startling amount of power over Louis in a cat and mouse game of whether he should live or die. Their back and forth dialogue and the lighting scheme both bear resemblance to the dark but fast-paced mood of film noir.

Though Harry puts on a tough face, he's a dead man walking. He's on the run from everything he's done and Holly and him can't see eye to eye. His actions and past are a shadow over everything, and he has to go underground to hide from them.

Louis, similarly, is followed everywhere by the shadows of his past. Armand is not far behind, his powers meaning that they he can see into Louis' troubled psyche. In this scene they are adversaries, but the power always lands squarely back with Armand. Unlike the ending of the The Third Man, Louis lives after their chase. Harry Lime, especially given the strictures of the noir genre, had to die for the story to have its narrative arc.

Louis and Armand come back to the surface world, uneasily. This subverts noir endings, which makes sense -- they are vampires, bound by different tensions. Armand's love of Louis triumphs, just as Holly's friendship for Harry isn't enough. But, there's disaster that follows for both pairs nonetheless.