#tpwk

[catie18]

It’s a Harry thing

[shawnxstyles]

personal 2

DATE: SEPTEMBER 9, 2023

summary: you can’t stop thinking about your first orgasm, so you try to relieve yourself of the ache. when you’re left unsatisfied, you reach out to harry for some guided practice.

words: 6.6k

requested: a bunch!

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [masturbation, dry humping (?), thigh riding/rubbing], praise kink, dirty talk), language, and two horny best friends

note: this is a new series i plan on writing (but i don’t know if i want it to have a plot or just blurbs)!! i literally have so many requests (what’s new…), but i have a lot of motivation to write this right now, plus i’ve gotten a lot of requests for it as well. i hope you guys don’t mind the delay of my other writings… x PART THREE

bestfriendrry x inexperienced!reader

—

It’s been a week since you last saw Harry.

Yeah, you’ve texted here and there. Maybe if you saw some funny video that you just had to tag him in or vice versa you would, but you haven’t actually seen him. Not physically. You think if you did, you might just die.

The second that you rose up from his bathroom floor after having your first orgasm ever (and mind you, it was mind-blowing), you stiffly cuddled up with him on the couch to watch the movie he picked out. If he seemed confused by your quietness or hardened body, he didn’t say it. Your head on his chest would vibrate every time he laughed at something funny, but it was hard for you to voice some of your own giggles out. You couldn’t focus on anything other than his body pressed against yours, so similarly yet so differently to how it was merely hours before.

From your position, you were able to feel his heart beating, organ pumping blood and keeping him alive. Stable. And that’s all you felt from him; his stableness and calmness. Your heart was thrashing around anxiously in your rising chest while he was just calm. His lively beat was as calm as the ocean waves, so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep before the movie had ended.

In a deep, much-needed slumber, Harry could feel your body loosen up. He didn’t want to say anything, but he could feel your tenseness. That was the opposite of what he wanted to happen. Orgasms were supposed to make a person relaxed and stress-free, but your body felt nothing like that. He could practically hear all your anxious gears overthinking in your little head. He wanted to pry every thought out and reassure you that whatever you’re thinking is fine and that he’s there for you. But he knew he had coaxed enough out of you when you spilled out your biggest secret to him, earning yourself your first orgasm in the process.

So, Harry never brought it up. Not through the funny parts of the movie, the romantic scenes, or even the ads. He just let the air between you guys grow incredibly thick with your silence, but pretended like he could see through the fog. He remained as nonchalant as possible–it was his forte after all. After you fell asleep, Harry let the movie ride out. He tried to pay attention the whole time instead of pondering what you might be thinking, but he didn’t do too well. If someone were to quiz him on the film, he would fail horribly.

Harry shuts the television off and cradles you up into his arms. Your head lumped onto his shoulder like dead weight before you snuggled up right into his neck. Harry had carried you many times before, and even more times while you’re asleep like that, but the way his skin was getting all warm and melty was something he’d never experienced with you. Your nose was right up against his pulse and it made him feel sensitive and vulnerable, but also so warm and alive. It was really hard for him to stay calm.

When he reached his bedroom, he gently unwrapped you from his body and laid you on his bed. He watched in awe as you immediately curled into a ball like a fetus, trying to hold on to something for comfort. After a few minutes, Harry joined you in his bed and threw your hands around him. Your subconscious didn’t hesitate to scoot closer and bathe in his body heat, snuggling into your favorite pillow; his chest.

It was really hard to stay calm.

You both woke up and went on your way for that day as if nothing happened. You had an afternoon lecture that you had to catch and Harry had to go to work. It was alright. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. Right?

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

Normally, that would never have been a problem. He’s your best friend, so of course you think about him all the time! Sometimes, you’ll see a sign or a poster on the news board when walking to class that reminds you of one of your guys’ inside jokes that you just have to send to him. If he sees something too, he’ll send it your way. You both find it fun and endearing at the same time because that’s what best friends do; so alike and attuned that they’re always on the same wavelength of thinking. It was normal. But the way you’re obsessively thinking about Harry isn’t normal. You couldn’t even convince yourself that it was and that’s saying something.

Your mind kept drifting off to the way everything played out last week. Even when you were in class on Friday afternoon (one week later) you just couldn’t help thinking of the cold bathroom floor and the fiery body pressed against you. It was so contrasting–it was so wrong. The angel and the devil on your shoulders were bickering more than ever, and you didn’t have a clue whose side you were on.

Harry’s assertive voice echoed in your head, almost as if you were trying to remember it. You had never heard him talk the way he was talking to you last Thursday. It was deep, sultry, and demanding—something you never would have known you liked. You’re not even sure if you actually liked that or if you just liked when Harry did it. Well, you don’t really have anything to base your sexual likings on yet…

When his hands delicately touched and teased you, down your stomach, down your thighs, you felt it. You felt it for days after. His touch lingered like a ghost on your skin, etching a tattoo of himself on you forever. It was blinding and fogging your vision so much, you couldn’t even focus in class. The second that your Friday class was over, you shot straight home. You didn’t look at your phone as you hurriedly discarded your shoes and jacket and stumbled into your bedroom.

You plopped yourself on your mattress with a familiar goal in mind that you were never able to achieve before; you were going to masturbate. Now that you could do it, you were going to relieve yourself of this… stress.

It only took a few seconds before your clothes were completely off and your head was planted against the headboard. You widened your legs and watched your lips slowly pry themselves open with the stretch. You swallowed, small anxiety bubbling in your throat. But you knew what you were doing now. You knew how to do it right because Harry showed you.

Oh fuck. You should not be thinking about Harry right now.

A small amount of wetness coated your labia. It was inevitable–the second his name popped into your head, your mind began to not only recall but wander. You remembered his gravelly voice in your ear, guiding you, showing you, teasing you, praising you. You remembered the ghost of his touch that you attempted to replicate with your own, but it wasn’t the same. And of course, you remembered his bulge that was harshly pressing into your lower back, pleading to be helped. You remembered everything a little too vividly, but it made you so wet thinking about it, and it made it so easy to rub the little button that Harry showed you.

Your clit was puffy, swollen, and needy just like you. Your middle finger circled over it with desperation, snatching some of your wetness to make it sloppier. Your breath started to become unsteady as your eyes trained on your pussy, now soaking with your arousal.

This is when your mind begins to wander. You start imagining things that you haven’t done with Harry yet, but were so intrigued by. You imagined getting on your knees for him and taking him in your mouth, so you could finally relieve his bulky ache. He would encourage you, caress you, and call you a “good girl” in his thick, leather-like voice. The thought of satisfying him until he’s groaning above you has you spreading your legs wider and spinning your finger around your clit faster.

Just like Harry did, you snake your hand up to one of your peaked nipples. You found it was difficult to rub yourself while also tweaking your pebbled buds. It was definitely something you needed to gain muscle memory on, especially if you planned on doing this when you got stressed. Which was often.

You didn’t know how often you would get wet though. You hoped it wasn’t too frequently because like right now, you weren’t completely fulfilled. If you had to do this every other day, you would probably be even more upset if you weren’t satisfied each time. You felt that chase-like desire bubbling up inside of you, like with Harry, but it wasn’t nearly as blissful. Maybe the first one is always better than the rest and with each one you’ll just be a little more disappointed as time goes on. But as a shrieked moan leaves your mouth when you orgasm, a small voice in the back of your head is telling you the real reason you’re not satisfied.

Harry isn’t here.

—

On Saturday morning, after sleeping like shit under your shoe, you asked Harry if you could come over. Usually, you would have more self-control, but there was something about an orgasm that strangled and stole any self-preservation you had.

When you woke up, you went straight to the bathroom just to find out you were wet. Again. The word really? spilled from your lips before you could stop it. You assumed that you had some type of dirty dream, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was about Harry. But you’re glad you didn’t remember it. You were hurriedly wiping up your mess and tossing your shorts in your laundry bin. In some type of rush, you took a speedy shower like it was a competition.

Then you stared at your phone, wondering if you should do it. Should you text Harry? You’ve never thought about it this much ever, but one message could mean everything if he looked at it right. What if he thought you were obsessed with him?

No, don’t think that.

Texting your best friend is normal. Asking your best friend for sexual help was normal too. Right…?

Y/N: hey, what are you doing today?

You felt a little nervous. Not because you were texting Harry but because of what your intentions were. What if he felt like you were just using him? Your heart spiked when you saw the three small bubbles.

Harry: I just got off work

Harry: Want to come over?

He knew you too well.

—

The second he texted you he was home, you went towards his place. With every red light you hit, you bubbled with anticipation, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel. Your anxiousness turned into a ball of excitement when you were actually in front of his door.

He opened it with a charming smile, one that you recognized all too well. You welcomed yourself inside and tried to seem as normal as possible. But you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Your mind kept wandering back to that feeling in your lower stomach.

“So… how was work?” You asked, creating some small talk as you plopped yourself on his couch. The very couch where everything started.

That was not helping.

Harry gave you a look, one with squinted eyes and a half chuckle. “Fine? What’s up?”

“What’s down?” You cringed as the words came out, your nervousness shining through.

“Why are you acting so weird? Are you okay, Doll?” Your stomach simmered at the nickname, differently than ever before. You had a feeling that name was never going to be the same for you again. You sighed, squeezing your legs together as Harry dropped himself next to you. His close proximity was nearly killing you. Not only did he radiate warmth but he smelt good—like he just showered in a tropical forest.

What is wrong with him?

“I’m not fine,” You admitted as your head fell in your hands. Harry grew concerned with scrunched eyebrows, throwing an arm around the back of the couch and waited for you to continue. When you didn’t, he asked.

“Well, d’you want to tell me what’s wrong or just sit ‘ere and complain? C’mon, Doll.”

You groaned, crossing your legs. The throbbing between them was so prominent, it was like a second heartbeat. Your hands balled into fists on your side, nails digging into your palms. Harry watched all your movements that you tried to withstrain.

“You can’t call me that anymore.”

“Woah, what?” Harry’s eyebrows jumped, extremely puzzled and surprised by your attitude. You’ve never had a problem with the name for the years he’s been saying it, so what changed?

“It’s—it’s killing me, H! Everything you’re doing is… just killing me and I don’t know why. I think I might explode. Is this what dying feels like?” You admitted, throwing your hands over your eyes again as a way to hide in embarrassment. Harry feels himself relax a bit, he even chuckles in the air you thought was thick with tension. When you hear his laugh, you look at him like he’s crazy. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh but it is.” It was evident that Harry knew you weren’t actually upset with him. You were just innocently turned on so much that you were frustrated. And Harry so happened to be the only one to know your little secret. So why wouldn’t you come to him?

“No, you ruined me. Am I going to be… like this forever?”

“What, you mean horny? Probably.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Then why are you here?” he smirks, patiently waiting for you to confess. You huffed under your breath while your eyes stared at your legs, thighs squeezing together at his cockiness. You were so annoyed at his control, but your body for some reason got off on it. You needed whatever he had because clearly only he could give it to you. “Look at me.”

You craned your neck up faster than you would have liked to admit, glaring at his darkening green eyes. A heat swirled not only in the pits of your stomach but in the air around you both, suffocating you with its tension. After gazing at your appearance for longer than necessary, his smirk deepens, which you didn’t even know was possible.

“I have a feeling…” he starts as his hand slowly creeps towards your neck from the back of the couch. “That you’re unsatisfied.”

“Yes,” You grumbled.

“Did you try to relieve your ache? Or did you just let it build up? Either way, you found yourself here.”

Your skin ran hot. Fiery hot. His hand brushed over your neck and he could definitely feel the scorching flames of your skin. Your heart was racing trying to keep up with your body’s excitement, making your eyes blown out and wide.

“I… tried to relieve it.”

“Did you do it the way I taught you?”

“…yes.”

“Did you feel satisfied?” You took a pause before responding, but Harry knew the answer.

“No,” You were honest, just like before. A part of you felt ashamed again, too. Maybe you didn’t do it right and you were just a lost cause. Instead of looking sad at your predicament like last time, Harry smirked. That fucking smirk. It meant he knew something you didn’t and that frustrated you more.

“So I was right. You just need a little help s’all,” his thick hand gently squeezed your neck, causing you to hum and close your eyes. He loved how responsive and sensitive you were, it lit a fire in him. “So how’d you do it, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, walk me through it. What made you want to masturbate in the first place?”

Your eyes shot open and looked as far away from him as possible. Your body clearly stiffened and got anxious from the question. You felt your hips squirm in their tight position on the couch, begging to move. Your little button was throbbing, so much it was becoming painful.

“Don’t lie. I can’t help you then,” Harry was being taunting and condescending. A tingle sparked within you, urging you to be truthful. You hoped he would help you like before because like you said, it was getting painful and you were getting desperate.

“I-I kept thinking about last week.”

“What part?”

“Um, the whole thing,” You bit your lip, twiddling your fingers.

“Be specific.”

“Harry…” You practically whined, covering your face for the third time in embarrassment. “Can you just… make it go away please? It obviously didn’t work when I did it.”

“‘Course I will, just walk me through what happened first.”

“Fine,” You took a deep breath and put your head up. You positioned your body to face him, trying to speak with confidence. “I got distracted in class and was thinking about…you know…and then I went home. I was so stressed that I just decided to do it, but I couldn’t do it unless…”

“Unless what, Doll?”

That fucking name.

You don’t know if it was from his deep voice. Or from his demanding tone. Or his hand squeezing at the pulse point of your neck, but you whimpered. The smallest and most delicate sound that couldn’t have even been recognized by a high-definition microphone. But Harry heard it, and it made him go absolutely berserk.

“Unless I thought of you.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’ve corrupted you, huh?” he squeezes your neck again reassuringly as you mewl in his grasp, a little less ashamed than before. “Well, you came all this way…”

“Please, Harry,” You delicately begged, trying not to sound as desperate as you were. Because, fuck, were you desperate. With every simple, warm caress of his hand on your neck you thought you were going to suffocate from holding your breath.

“Take off your shorts.” It was an easy command to follow. Harry’s assertive tone sent chills down your spine and a fiery tingle in the pit of your stomach. The same type of tingle you felt whenever you thought about the bathroom incident. But you were never able to dull the flame alone.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to.

Without another word, Harry’s hand snakes down to your waist joined by his other one as he lifts you up and onto his lap. Your lungs deflate, releasing a shaky breath full of your anticipation. Your legs were on either side of his, spreading you open just enough to feel yourself leak into your panties. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Show me what y’got,” his reassuring hand slips from your waist and rests on the arm of the couch. Your expression falls in disappointment.

“What? I thought you were helping me!”

“This is helping you. I have to see what y’did wrong so I can help you fix it. There’s a method to my madness, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes. He’s said that line growing up too many times to count. You used to tell him to shut up every time, but now you’re just immune to his cheekiness. The context was very different now, and that line may never be the same.

“Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. Do y’want my help or not?”

“Okay, okay!” You assured, your cunt still throbbing against the cotton of your underwear. You swallowed once the playfulness died down, silence surrounding you both. The only thing left was for you to start, which you found extremely embarrassing. “So I just…”

“Do exactly what you did. Walk me through it.”

You took a deep breath before discarding your shirt. You tried not to think about how Harry was looking directly at your body now without the reflection of a mirror. He didn’t hide the way his gaze lingered on specific parts, almost as if he was memorizing each little detail. If you weren’t so hyper focused on remembering what you did and what he told you, you would find it somewhat endearing (and embarrassing).

With trembling hands, you threw off your shirt to tweak at your peaked nipples, just like you had done yesterday. They felt raw and sore between your fingertips. With each twist came a small aftershock of pain, but you only continued to roll the bud. You kind of liked how it hurt a little…

While one hand focused on your breasts, the other began to slide down between your legs. After passing your torso, your fingers slipped underneath the band of your underwear. The pads make contact with your aching clit, just like before, but it was different. When you did it alone, it felt stressful and rushed. But right now, it feels more electrifying and dizzying than before.

Maybe it was because Harry was here and that he was watching you like a hawk. His mere presence was alluring and intensified every touch. His eyes were trained on your every movement, analyzing and critiquing you with those thorn-like pupils. You wanted to know what he was thinking, but you were starting to get too caught up in your own pleasure to care.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You sighed and rocked your hips subconsciously over Harry’s thighs. He sharply inhales, but you don’t register the sound because you’re too busy making your own. You didn’t notice Harry’s growing bulge, merely a few inches away from your dripping cunt.

Your eyelids start to tighten, screwing shut as your thighs quiver. That familiar rush was approaching you fast, and just when you thought it couldn’t come any faster, Harry finally does something. He speaks.

“Almost there already? You are desperate, aren’t you, Doll?” Harry’s tone could pass as pitiful or even taunting as his hand creeps towards your pivoting waist. But the raspy deepness of it is what sends you over the edge. Your fingers squeeze your nipple while your fingers circle your pulsating clit. All of your movements stop as your body overloads, coming down from the much-needed orgasm. Your hand slaps onto his broad shoulder for support as you quietly chant his name with a squirm of your hips. “All the way. There y’go, angel.”

With some labored breathing, you finally peel your eyes open to a smirking Harry. Your skin flushed in sudden embarrassment, realizing your position. You immediately think to move off of him, especially after just coming in your panties, but his hand on your hip keeps a firm grip.

“We’re not done yet. You haven’t even heard my thoughts.”

“…What are your thoughts?” You were a little intimated, which is something you never thought you’d be by your best friend.

You had some thoughts and feelings of your own. Yes, this orgasm was better than the one you did alone. But it was nowhere near as satisfying as the one Harry did for you. Why was that? It internally frustrated you that Harry was so good at what he did, but a small—smidge little speck—of you was proud that your best friend was good in bed. Well, you don’t know about all aspects, but you could assume.

You should not be thinking about that!

And maybe another tiny part of you was glad to be one of the people experiencing his euphoria.

“I thought it was pretty good. Pretty good for your what? Third time? Well, second by yourself. Could use some work,” Harry tried to be as nonchalant as possible. His cock was raging in his shorts, just begging to be let out for some relief. He’s not going to lie and say he hasn’t thought about his best friend in a sexual way since their sexual intercounter because he totally has.

What he hasn’t done is jerk off to you. He refuses to stoop that low because in a way, that made him feel dirty, like he was using you somehow. When he came home from work the day after everything, he had to call up one of the numbers in his phone to help settle his little problem. Okay, yes, that might seem hypocritical, but he doesn’t care about jerking off to random people or using his friendly benefits to get off quickly. That’s exactly what they were for. You, on the other hand, were not for that purpose. You are his best friend who just needs a little… guidance in the sexual field. And luckily, Harry has a lot of experience that he is (for some reason) very willing to share.

You were just about to roll your eyes when Harry’s grip tightened even more as a warning. He just knew you too well.

“I want to try something. Willin’ to try something new?” You felt the pacing of your already quick heart accelerate. Your eyes were wide and full of wonder, innocence draped over you like a bedsheet.

“Yeah. That’s the point of this, right?” Your voice sounded a little hesitant, similar to the way Harry blinked. You swallowed your anxiousness down as Harry nodded.

His hands guide your hips over onto his lap. You instantly get flashbacks from last week, his warm hands stilling your hips and rubbing gentle circles on your burning skin. But this time, he adjusts you so you’re sitting on one of his thighs. Your panties were directly on his athletic shorts and it was comfortable, but you had an urge to be closer. You needed skin to skin contact.

Was that too much? Too far?

“Actually,” As if he could read your mind, “I’m going to pull these up, okay?”

With a nod, he tugs his shorts up, revealing his large tiger tattoo. You nearly forgot he had it. As your eyes fixate on the impressive ink, you find yourself becoming a little dizzy with lust. Not only was the tattoo cool but the placement almost had you fainting. You watched his thigh muscles contract when he shifted his hips, the tiger pulsing and looking like a great seat.

Harry was going to—no did—ruin you…

Next, he pulled you forward, nearly causing you to collapse on him. Now, your covered center is directly on his bare thigh, lightly pressing against his thickness.

“Y’real warm, Doll,” Harry observes, hands subconsciously slotting their way onto that soft spot of your hips. You felt as though they belonged there now. Your skin blushed, heat bubbling inside of you at his comment. You couldn’t help but feel shy with his eyes gazing at your every move. Legs wanting to close, you force yourself to keep them open around his waist. Just like he taught you.

“What do I do now?” You didn't really know what to do with your hands and it was evident. Harry saw this, however, and threw your lonesome hands over his shoulders. His action caused you to lean closer towards him, faces merely a few inches apart. You swallowed, but your throat was dry, and your heart was running a mile in record time. You could feel every breath fall onto your face because you were in such close proximity. You wanted to kiss him badly. It was strange because you’ve never felt such a pull towards him.

“I want you to use me.”

“What?” You blinked.

“Use me. Move your hips on m’thigh until it feels really good.”

“I…I don’t know how,” You admitted, fingers trembling within each other behind his neck. A soft, reassuring smile rests upon his lips, and before he even said anything, you already felt a little better.

“Just move first and I’ll help you as you go. Do you remember what to say if you want to stop?” he asked with gentleness as his hand curled on your hip, kneading it with care. You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. He pinned you with a knowing look.

“Stop is red, yellow is slow down, and green is good.”

“You remembered. Good girl,” The two simple words made you flutter inside and out. But they also motivated you to strive and really be a good girl for him.

You released your interlocked fingers from behind his neck and bared his shoulders. You took a deep, quivering breath before beginning to move over his thigh. It was an awkward motion; circling your panties along his naked thigh while he just took it. At first, it didn’t feel all too pleasurable. The idea of it all seemed great, but you just couldn’t get into it. A small part of you was saddened because Harry had seemed excited.

Had you let him down?

But just before you stopped to complain and whine about it, Harry’s grip on your hip tightened and pulled you forward. Your heart jumped at the action, feeling immense intensity in the proximity. With the slight lean forward, your clit was pressing directly on his thigh creating a perfect friction from your cotton panties.

“O-Oh,” You breathily moaned, finally feeling that strike of pleasure you’ve been waiting for. As your eyes begin to close, Harry never seems to remove his from you, analyzing every speck of your body like you’ll perish any second. His hand remains rigid and still on your hip, forcing you forward so your clit is constantly stimulated.

“Yeah? That feel better?” he asks in that familiar, deep husk that rumbles through your body.

“Yes, H,” Your head leaned on his shoulder, thighs beginning to burn with fatigue. It’s barely been a few minutes yet you were already feeling your leg muscles giving out.

“C’mon, Doll. Don’t give up now.”

“I’m trying,” You whined, picking your head up and pouting at him with a small pant. He stares at your puckered lip and dares to kiss it. Would it be crossing a boundary? All he wants to do is suck on all your words until you have none left and leave a few marks in the process. Is that so hard to want?

“Try harder.”

Harry thrusts his thigh up into you, causing you to gasp in bliss. It was an overwhelming and shocking feeling; a single, hefty dose of pressure right into your clit and cunt. Harry could feel your prominent heat burning through your underwear and searing through his skin. He wanted to rid you of your clothes and ravage you, but you weren’t there yet. He doesn’t know if you’ll ever get there with him, but recently, he’s been dying to get there. The thought has never even wandered his mind before, but now that it is, he can’t seem to get it out. It’s as if you’re trapped in his mind and sex is the only key.

That sounds a lot worse than he thought.

“Oh my God,” Your whimpers flow straight into his ears, playing mind games with him. His cock has been puffing up in his shorts, but he’s not even trying to hide it anymore. There’s no way you’re oblivious to the things you do to him—at least physically.

Harry continues to ram his thigh up, encouraging you to move around. When he feels your body seriously about to give up, he holds you still and forces you to stop.

“Color?”

“Green, but I’m tired.”

“Do y’want to stop?”

“No, Harry, please, just—I really need you to do something. Anything. I’m close,” Your desperate pleads are impossible to reject. With your doe eyes and pouty lip, he doesn’t even hesitate to make all your pain go away.

“Need it that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Doll. Just stay still,” You obey him with a grateful nod as his thigh begins to rock up into you again. It was so much more euphoric this way—having him move while you just feel. Maybe it was a little selfish, but wasn’t that one of the perks of him teaching you? You just got to feel and learn your body.

You hadn’t thought about that part a lot. This entire ordeal was you learning more about yourself. For years you have deprived yourself and avoided all sexual activity for no other reason than fear. Fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—sex was a huge thing for you. Now, you’re doing things you never could have imagined yourself doing, and you’re doing them with the last person you’d expect; your best friend. But in the strangest and most bizarre way, you couldn’t see your firsts being held by anyone other than Harry. Would you tell him that? Probably not. That might be taken a different way than you mean, and then drama would ensue and that’s not at all what you want.

But what did you mean by it?

“Are y’close? I can feel you clenching on me,” his voice rasps near your ear, sending a shudder throughout your body. You hum a high-pitched sound, seemingly pleasing him. “‘About to come in y’panties? Never thought you’d do that, huh?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again, this time biting your lip as your stomach churned in pleasure. “Touch me, God, please.”

“Are you saying I’m God? ‘Cause that is a great compliment—”

“You’re such an—” he places his lips on your neck, suckling on the spongy part under your ear. You shiver, shutting up immediately. Every word and thought has left you completely, fizzling into the nonexistent. You don’t know if he put his lips on your neck like this last time, but it made you putty on top of him. “Why does that f-feel so good? Please, Harry, I’m right there.”

“‘Cause I’m doing it. Little baby just needed help s’all. That’s right, huh? Say it. Say you needed my help, baby.” Why his words make you feel the way you feel will forever be an unsolved phenomenon to you. There’s a juxtaposition between pain and pleasure and degradation and praise. When he puts you down, he makes sure to pick you right up again, and it might seem toxic, but it was just Harry, and you knew deep down it was all an act. And you liked that.

“I-I needed you, Harry,” A whine fell from your lips, tearing through your throat.

You liked that none of it was deeply serious and you could be what you wanted without the fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—everything you needed for comfort was there. It was here with Harry. It might all be some type of act, but it felt real. Realer than any other relationship you’ve had.

“C’mon me, Doll.”

You felt his warm hand travel from one hip to your torso. Just the mere feeling of his presence getting lower towards your center sent you over the edge. It was quite embarrassing how his simple touch was all you needed to be folded and whipped, but you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive as a beginner and, on top of it all, so needy and greedy for it. Harry adored that though.

Your orgasm soaked through your cotton panties, while some of the residue landed on Harry’s thigh. An ever-growing smirk was plastered on his face as your heated face finally reentered reality. You quietly gasped when your awareness finally slipped through the orgasmic fog, realizing the mess you made.

“Look at tha’, Doll. Was that better for you? More satisfying?”

“Yes. Thank you, Harry,” You answered wearily, suddenly being slapped with post-orgasm fatigue. The lingering burn in your muscles told you that you were going to be sore tomorrow, but you were too blissed-out to care.

“Don’t be so formal. S’weird,” You rolled your eyes at him. Again, he’s great at ruining a sweet moment. Sexual Harry versus friend Harry were two different people, but you appreciated both. It was just the sharp switches he makes between transitions that makes your head spin with confusion. Harry, your friend, was loud and cocky with a mixture of kindness. Harry, your sexual teacher, was demanding and precise with a mixture of softness. Both comforted you in a way that you hoped you would find in a partner one day; he was the perfect example.

Recognizing him this way really put things in perspective for you–Harry really was teaching what you wanted. And like he said before, maybe you didn’t need to worry about a husband right now. You should be focusing on what you want and that might take some experimenting. Training with Harry was preparing you for that experiment phase. That’s exactly it.

When you take a breath, you’re reminded of how compressed you are to him. You’re comfortable and cozy when you’re this close, and it just felt right. You don’t remember if you’ve always felt like this, but it would make sense if you have. He’s your best friend, of course.

But of course, the moment ends way too soon, and Harry is lifting you off of his lap. He places you beside him on the couch before standing up.

“I’ll go start you a bath and get you some clothes,” Harry leaves for the bathroom, the opposite of last time. Based on the last two times, to you it seems like he leaves too quickly. You never get to fully absorb the aftermath and internalize its meaning. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe Harry knows that if he allowed you the time, you would overthink until you self-destructed and eventually never speak to him again.

You don’t think you could ever do that.

So, like anything you’ve ever done, you’re left alone to analyze the situation. You were aided when you were desperate and Harry was able to mend that ache. But what did that do for him? What was Harry getting out of this arrangement? Was it even an arrangement or just best friends who occasionally do sexual things? Was he doing all of this for you just because he wanted to show you the ropes?

You’re still well-aware of your lack of reciprocation. Out of the two times he’s helped you out, you haven’t been returning the favor. There is this unspoken understanding that everything is about you and that Harry wouldn’t involve himself because what would that teach you? Without him saying anything, you know that Harry doesn’t want you to think that he’s using you for his own pleasure. But at this point in your friendship, you know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Besides, if he needed to have sex that critically, he could just call someone, right? It’s easy to “get some” when you’ve already had it.

Your point being, why haven’t you offered to return the favor? If you did, maybe Harry could give you some pointers and tell you what to do, just like all of the other times. Not only would you know what feels right and pleasurable, but you’d know how to make your partner feel just as positive. Plus, he would be getting pleasure out of it, too. That sounds like a win-win in your book, and probably in Harry’s. But would that be crossing the unspoken boundaries of your friendship? You’ve already traversed through enough together, but how far was too far? Was he basing the limits off of you?

If so, he won’t mind one more session, right?

—

thank you all so much for being patient with me 🩷 i hope this suffices you! part 3

taglist: @pishhhh20989 @harrysslut7 @kathb59 @chronicallybubbly @clarap23 @mrsstylesss @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle

crossed out= not able to tag

[littlemelaninfics]

Courtesy Call ☎️

warnings: language, semi-smut (is that a thing? It is now 😬)

“God…fucking dammit!” He growled out in the shell of your ear. You could barely make a sound as Harry’s body weight was repeatedly slamming your frontside through the mattress. His thrusts were sharp and deep as he kept your throat encased nicely in his palm. This session was animalistic, but you were warned going in.

27 minutes ago at promptly 2:14 am, you were alone and cozy in your bed. That night you’d made yourself some calming tea as you prepped for the busy work week ahead, so you were out like a light. That was until your phone was vibrating for so long before you picked it up that it thudded onto the wooden floor. It wasn’t until you finally answered that it stopped ringing,

“Hello?”

“Hello?” The voice replied.

“Hello?” You asked for a second time.

“Hello? Hey. Y/n. Can you hear me?”

“Yes. Hello, Harry. What’s up?” You asked, getting slightly annoyed,

“Courtesy call.”

“What? Harry, no. It’s too late and I have a long week ahead.”

“That’s why it’s called a courtesy call. I’m already pulling in and just thought you should know.” You could hear him smirking though the phone as headlights lit up your bedroom wall.

“I don’t feel like getting out of bed to open the door,” you said staring to whine a little.

“S’fine.” You start to ponder why when you hear Harry’s spare key jamming in the key hole and unlocking your front door. You quickly jump up and as soon as you swung open your bedroom door Harry was stalking down your hallway, covering the distance in roughly 4 1/2 long strides. His stature and demeanor alone were enough to make you take a step back. Even when he met you toe to toe, Harry did not cease his advances towards you. He instead collided with you, making you stumble back as his hands roamed freely over your body.

The make out was intense, giving you a feeling of where your night was headed. People see Harry as being baby and trust me, he is, but it’s nights like these where he is a complete savage,

“Ow! You bit me!” You exclaimed as you pulled away from him. In 0.3 seconds, Harry observes the wound as you’re still talking. He yanks you back into his chest before leaning in and running his slick tongue over the tiny bead of blood coming from your lip. Your knees physically go weak as he takes this as a cue to spin you around and push you face first into your comforter.

“Safe word.”

“Orange.”

“Use it if you need to,” he commands as he’s pulling your cotton panties down and off past your ankles. Harry couldn’t help but stare in awe as he saw the contrast of his ivory skin against your radiant melanin in the moonlight shining through your blinds. You gently nod your head to his statement and he lands a nice, loud smack to your ass gripping the voluminous meat in his palm. He’s on you in a second and you know there’s no way he removed all his clothes that fast.

He’s desperate.

Harry leaned his toned body over yours, adjusting for easy access. Even feeling the weight of his body and his scent so close to your nose sent you into overdrive. You reached your hand back to feel literally anything, when he encased your wrists in his hand and held them in place,

“You’re the only one I know can take it. Let me take it, baby.”

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

The lack of media literacy in f1 fans is astounding sometimes.

Ultimately it’s the fault of journalists who are misrepresenting quotes from drivers and making them seem to say things they don’t mean. But misrepresentation doesn’t excuse this.

For example, Lando’s full quote after Brazil.

“ It shouldn't have been red flagged but there was the crash in the end which cause it so... that's life sometimes. You take a gamble and it's paid off for them. It's not talent, it's just luck.”

The last 2 lines are being represented as Lando speaking about Redbull strategy as a whole but reading the whole quote shows more as

“{we} took a gamble and it’s paid off for them. It’s not talent, it’s just luck.”

Lando is referencing his own team. He knows that McLaren, and by extension himself, is not in a position yet to win a WDC, and that their Constructor’s title is more luck than pure driver talent.

Many people say Lando’s Miami 24 win was ‘luck’ and a fluke but when Lando is perceived as saying a similar thing it’s the end of the word and a comment towards his moral character.

This isn’t an exclusive defence of Lando. He’s made many comments that I disagree with this year, as an example Austria this year, but the excessive hate towards someone who is just doing his job is unnecessary.

Maybe sit and ask yourself if anyone else in the sport made a comment that was this misrepresented would you immediately be posting hate at that person or would you take time to think critically.

Everyone is welcome to have their own opinions about different drivers, I don’t expect everyone to like everyone all the time, but leaving hate and negativity is completely over the line. In the immortal words of my nana (and probably everyone’s tbh) “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”

[julia-harrys-only-angel]

january fic recommendations:

fluff:

•home by @daaydreamy

•you learn to crochet by @theshyspy

•labitule by @finelinevogue

•the morning after by @finelinevogue (the whole love island series)

•the haircut by @avatar-anna

• cinema by @foolforharrry

•brasil by @watermelonsugarcry (the whole since 2010 masterlist)

•harry accidentally posts a picture by @gucciwins

•this little love of mine by @p0pstars

•birthday by @avatar-anna

•leather pants by @watermelonsugacry (the whole since 2010 masterlist)

•ripped pants by @harrysfolklore (bandmate!y/n masterlist)

•los angeles XIII by @stylessupremacy

•the first meeting by @harrysfolklore (babysitter!y/n masterlist)

•red carpet by @watermelonsugacry (the whole since 2010 masterlist)

•new years, new family by @chaoticloving 

•<3 by @watermelonsugacry (the whole since 2010 masterlist)

•<3 by @harrysfolklore (bandmate!y/n masterlist)

•wedding planning gone wrong by @fetusharryluvr

•first night sleeping over at boyfriend!harry’s house - headcannon by @harrysfolklore

•<3(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) by @gucciwins

•sweet nothings by @pancakes4two

•home for the holidays by @samaraannhan20

•the midnight game show by @finelinevogue

•<3 by @avenging-fandoms

smut:

•glitz and glamour by @enthusiasticharry

•gala after gala by @gucciwins

•the clip by @chaoticloving 

•best friend’s dad (part 1) (part 2) by @jarofstyles

•the con artist (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) by @gurugirl

•shy lover by @loversipod

•you’re all i want by @goldenbuckyyy

•learn to knock by @eveningepiphany

•rich (part 1) (part 2) by @lukesaprince

•a delicate thing by @gurugirl

amazing writers that i recommend in general <3

@harrysfolklore

@gucciwins

@avatar-anna

@lovecanyon

@watermelonsugacry

@finelinevogue

@watchmegetobsessed

@erodasfishtacos

@moonchildstyles

@astranva

@gurugirl

@stylesloveclub

@adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy

@shroombloomm

@haaarry

@jawllines

@adoredaylight

@satanhalsey

thank you all writers for writing and posting such amazing stories and content. 🫶🏻

[starfox313]

Made this tonight. Honestly this still doesn't feel real. Such a fucking tragic situation.

[positivelypresent]

It’s easier to be quiet than it is to be unkind.

[drewsephrry]

memories

Harry Styles x reader

Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

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

Words: 2.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

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

“You're such an idiot!”

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

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

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

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

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had left her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One, two.

One, two.

In, out.

In, out.

She was calm again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

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

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

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

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

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

A Dark Love

Summary: Two murders on the run in the 70’s fall in love.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, murder, death obvi, gore, smut, knife kink, blood kink, mentions of cannibalism, lots of angst,just a warning this is kind of heavy! So if you don’t feel comfy don’t read ❤️‍🔥

Wc:3.8k

Y/n is sure that man is watching her every move. Either that, or it’s her paranoia building up after being on the run for ten days. 

Ten whole days without a single cop glancing her way, after murdering two men at a bar she thought they would at least have a lead on her, but nothing. Nothing for a whole year. Since the news broke of several different men carelessly slashing women, Y/n has decided if men can kill women for no good reason, she can kill men for no reason. It’s better to have no men on the planet than only a few good ones. 

Her first was Tommy. Thirty two, blue eyes, brown hair, two hundred and three pounds, born January fourth nineteen forty two. He lives alone in a two bedroom apartment, his room filled with porno mags and disgusting memorabilia of past girls he obsessed over until his last moment. 

Y/n met him behind a bar just ten hours after the news about Lynda Ann Healy broke. Y/n was so disgusted and horrified that she fell into a spell once he tried pulling her back into his busted Red Ford pinto that she killed him right then and there, pulling the sharp buckle from her belt and stabbing him, walking all the way back home will bright crimson blood dripping from her face.

That night she discovered her new love. She had always adored taking care of herself, taking it slow and appreciating the simple things in life, like a hot bath or a new rose scented face cream- but nothing made her feel quite better than seeing her plump young skin masked in a coat of blood. She felt like she was reborn, branded into a new woman with a new fresh hungry need to kill. 

Since that night she’s been slashing into any man she can, the more bloody the better for her, bathing in the thick blood like it is a luxurious skin cream.  Now she’s up to fifteen bodies. 

“Have a problem?” Y/n calls over, feeling the cool metal of her dagger press into the plump skin of her thigh to make sure it was still right where she wanted it. There was nothing she loved more than leading a man down onto his knees for his last sight to be her uncovering her sharp blade. 

The man is handsome, standing tall with a slim but sturdy build, Tattoos, silky hair piled on top of his head- he obviously hasn’t gotten a haircut in a few months, big green eyes, a mustache dusted above his lip, dressed in some button up shirt with all too tight pants.

 She can have a little fun with him before she kills him. 

“Not at all, sweet thing.” He shoots her a wink before lighting a joint, taking a drag from it then passing it off to her. She pushes it back toward him but takes her place leaning next to him against his shiny blue car. “No thanks.” He lets out a tiny laugh, pulling it back to his mouth instead. “Your loss.” He breathes out, smoke falling from his mouth. 

“I don’t smoke strangers' pot.” Y/n says, glancing up at the man. He smiles, “Then let me introduce myself. I’m Harry. Now we know each other, babe.” She rolls her eyes, stepping back. “I can already tell you’re an asshole.” He tosses his arms out, “c’mon, I don’t bite.” A large smile spreads on his lips, but she ignores it and walks back to the car.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why the man’s stupid words bothered her so much, but she had a feeling about him and something was off. She walks a few feet back to her car before getting inside and starting it up. Shoving the key in and twisting it she realizes the old car finally bit the dust, merely taunting her with a cough but no roar to start. 

Her head turns at the noise, seeing Harry roll up next to her. “Looks like you need a ride.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing her couple of bags and stuffing them in his car before flopping into his passenger seat. The car was stolen so she wouldn’t miss it. 

What’s the worst that could happen? If he tried something she would just plunge her dagger straight into his heart… but she would lose her cool if her favorite corduroy skirt happened to get blood splatter on it. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, glancing over her tight and reserved body language. “Anywhere.” The 

“Seriously, where are you going? I thought we were over that stranger danger shit.” Y/ns rolls her eyes at the man, picking at her manicured nails to avoid his gaze. “I’m just going.” it's his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing at her. “Seriously,”

“Get off my case, asshole. You need to take a chill pill.” 

“I need to chill?! You need to stop being so fucking up tight!” The second he raises his voice at her she spreads her legs and pulls her dagger from the inside of her thigh, gripping it tight in her hand while he throws his up in surrender.``Hey, Hey, Hey” he rushes out, getting her to back off. “Either fuck off or ill slit your throat. It’s up to you Harry.” She says with a sweet smile, her heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the excitement of possibly getting a small taste of the pretty boy's blood. 

“Jesus, sorry.” She gives a tiny nod at his apology and backs down, but not before he starts chuckling. “But you wouldnt of stabbed me.'' He raises her hand again, carelessly aiming to just teach him a lesson instead of actually killing him. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, blood pouring from his hand. “Dont get it on my fucking skirt!” she shouts back, groaning at a little drop of blood soaking into her skirt. Harry quickly pulls the silky wrap she had tied around her hair and wraps it around his hand to stop the bleeding. 

After their panic settled they both let out a shaky breath before Harry pulled her in, grabbing her knife and pressing his lips to hers. “That was so fucking hot but if you ever do that again I will kill you.” 

The car is stopped in the middle of the road but that doesn’t stop them from tearing off each other's clothes. She yanks Harry’s button up shirt open while he peels her panties down her legs. She takes her turn and unbuckles his belt, shoving her hand down his pants and pulling his cock out. 

Hushed words are exchanged as she slides his big cock deep inside of her pussy, licking the fresh blood that drips down his wrists as he thrusts in and out of her from under her. 

Harry holds her dagger against her neck, the sharp blade scraping against her delicate skin. She lets out a moan, her mouth and chin covered in his blood. He kisses her, his tongue slipping inside of her mouth to taste her. 

 “I can’t believe you stabbed me.” He laughs on her lips, softly dragging the knife down her throat before pressing it between her breasts. He kisses her one last time before pulling away breathlessly, “if you ever try that again, I promise, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He presses the tip of the dagger into her chest enough to draw a bit of blood then pulls it away. 

To be clear, Harry has never killed a woman. Really just killing random men, slitting their throats or strangling them when he notices they are following a young girl home, or slipping a pill in someone’s drink, only for good reason. He’s not a psychopath, he’s only murdered 12 people!

“I’m cumming, fuck.” Y/n cums, letting out a moan and pulling herself away from the man.

After they dress themselves, Harry returns to driving, stepping on the gas and riding down the old country road. It was an absolute ghost town, corn fields, boarded up farm houses, and abandoned shops are the only things left in the old town. Y/n loved this. This was the kind of place she could stay in forever, a town where there are little people and no one cares to get to know the tiny population. 

She might consider settling down here, there’s only a gas station and a tiny grocery store, but even those are smaller than the average small town shops. This looked like a lowkey spot to hide out in, or maybe it is something straight out of a horror film- but so is she. 

“Pull over” Y/n finally speaks up after about twenty minutes of driving in silence. There was a tiny yellow motel, paint chipping and graffiti covered all along the exterior. “What?” Y/n rolls her eyes at his questioning she grabs the wheel from him and drives through the grass and into the parking lot of the rundown motel.  “What the fuck?!” Harry yells, quickly putting the car in park. Y/n jumps out before she can hear any of his bitching and walks through the motel and into a check out counter. 

Behind the counter there is a man, a short but sturdy build man with clown makeup on. Any normal person passing through this town and stopping at the motel for a safe place to lay their head for a night would be startled to see such a man behind the counter but this comforted Y/n. If the tall man was anything like her, she knew there wasn’t a chance the cops could bust her here. 

“Howdy… Gus. I’m going to need a room for tonight.” She glances at the big wooden sign that reads “HOWDY” with a large cowboy hat burned into it. She isn’t sure where she is, but wherever she was she knew it was just a bunch of homicidal fucked up hicks. 

“Single bed or two beds?” The man grumbles, a low deep voice coming out of such a short man. “Single bed.” Harry comes behind her, scoffing. “I’m going to need a room too.” 

“Bad news, there’s only one room.” 

“How many beds?” Y/n shoots up, hoping she doesn’t have to deal with this man for god knows how long. Yeah, he was just inside of her thirty minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with him. 

“Only one.” Fucking classic. 

“Well you can just keep on steppin’.” Harry shakes his head at her words. “No way, not after you drug me with this hell hole.” Y/n pulls a tight lipped smile, shoving her hand into her pocket aggressively and pulling out some bills and change to slam on the counter before snatching the key from Gus’ hand and stomping off. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The door flies open while Y/n storms into it, almost hitting Harry with the heavy wooden door. When she takes a quick look-see around the room she is instantly disgusted with the orange shag carpet, the stiff avocado green bedspread and the brightly cartoonish art bolted to the wall. “Well isn’t this just fucking nifty.” She lets out a huff then throws herself back on the bed. 

“You act like I’m not bummed out about this too! But we both need a place to crash and it might as well be with each other since we’re in the same boat. So, if you could stop your whining I’m going to clean up my hand.” 

She looks away, rolling her eyes. “I won’t hesitate to whip out my blade on you again.” He tossed a hand out to her before locking himself in the bathroom. 

Y/n takes this time to unpack her bags, which is really just unzipping them and then tossing them onto the floor. 

She’s not sure why she was drawn to this place, but she had a good feeling about it. Sometimes she regrets hurting all those men, having to live such a quiet life, always being on the move and never stable. But she’s hoping soon enough the investigation will be closed. They have been working to figure out who is behind this string of murders for far too long and she knows if she just sticks it out a little while longer they will give up. She’s sad for the families grieving, but not sad that there is a couple less useless fucks in this already shitty world. 

Hopefully she and Harry will get along. They got off to a rough start, and are still in a rough stop, but she thinks with a little work they could be partners in crime- no that she’s planning on killing any men while she’s in hiding, but if need be. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Where did you run off to?” 

Y/n  pushes open the motel door, kicking it shut with her heel and pulling her glass bottle of big red up to her lips for a swig. She dumps the big paper bag onto the entertainment center of the motel room, tossing a bag of chips at the man, then pulling her carton of cigs out and lighting one up. “Convenience store.” She mumbles through her exhale of smoke, flopping back on the squeaky bed where Harry sits up straight. 

“If we’re going to be staying together we need to learn a little bit more about each other.” Y/n rolls her eyes, taking another drag off of her Marlboro. “Why are you suddenly Mister moral? Don’t you like…kill people?” Harry rolls his eyes, he’s grown increasingly agitated with her and if she wasn't such a pretty girl maybe he would kill her. 

“Yeah, bad people. But that’s irrelevant. I hardly know you.” 

“That didn’t stop you from fucking me in your car twenty minutes after we met, even after I stabbed you.” Harry stands up, shaking his head, leaning back and growing out of frustration. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth.” She gives him a breathy chuckle. “Yeah?” She slowly rises to her feet, ashing her cigarette on the shag carpet and taking another drag from it. “What are you going to do about it?” He takes that as a challenge, grabbing her jaw with his bandaged band, four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other. 

They lock eye contact for a couple of beats before Harry pushes his lips onto her, pushing her down onto the bed and unbuckling his belt. It was already three in the morning, and they both know people are sleeping but no one staying in this hell hole is resting well. She slides down the silky sleep shorts she had slid on along with a tattered graphic tee before heading off to the store. Y/n keeps her eyes on his hands as he pulls his belt off and pushes his trousers down. 

Hushed words are exchanged and before either of them know it Harry is deep inside of her, lifting one leg to get deeper. 

Y/n smiles blissfully, reaching for her dagger she had tossed on the bed and sliding it against his hip bone, making sure not to nick his sensitive skin with her piercing sharp knife. Harry grabs it from her hand, trailing it up her hot body and slowly makes his way up to her neck. He traces the blade around her ear, taking his time before he slides it against the side of her neck, making sure to be soft with her. She annoys the fuck out of him, she has a smart mouth and was too reserved for someone so mouthy, but he cant help but kind of adore her. 

He quickly pulls out of her, cumming all over her pussy. “Oh fuck” she whispers, flopping her head back and relaxing into the bed. 

Harry pushes her shirt up, kissing over her bare chest and trailing it down her stomach. She feels a fluttery feeling in her belly. Similar to how she feels after she comes home prior to slashing into a man, blood spraying all over her face. She gets to stand under the warm spray of her shower, watching the water go from crimson to clear and drain down, giving her skin a good scrub before sitting bare in front of her vanity and pampering herself with rich creams. She feels like she's being taken care of, such a light delicate feeling. 

 He sinks to his knees, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between them. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Rise ‘n shine.” Harry sings, shaking Y/n awake. 

Y/n blinks her eyes open, groaning and getting in a good stretch so she's not so stiff. “What's on your face?” Harry's hand comes up to wipe at his face, examining the splatter he wipes off. “Oh, i'm not sure.” he walks into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before stepping back into her vision. 

“I've been thinking a lot this morning.” 

“It’s seven in the morning, how much thinking can you do?” Harry shrugs at her questions, pushing his frankly, fabulous hair back and starting to gather his things together to pack in his hefty leather bag. “Like I was saying, I’ve kind of been thinking… let's leave. Let’s go find some other place to stay.” 

Y/n whips her head back to him whilst she strips naked and starts the water in the pink tiled bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought we decided that this was the perfect place to hide out! It’s a fucking ghost town here.” 

Harry rocks back and forth then turns on his heel to start pacing back and forth in front of the messy bed from Y/n tossing and turning all night. “Not to get all weird but I can't talk to you when you're bare naked. it's tripping me out.” She scoffs, “Prude.” then steps into the shower. 

“If you dont mind, make this shower lickety split. I'm itching to get out of this place!” Y/n groans at his nagging, quickly rinsing the shampoo out of her hair and squirting a rather large pile of cream white conditioner into her palm and working it into her hair. “Why are you so impatient? Why cant you take a fucking chill pill.”

“This place is just creeping me out, man. I gotta get out of here.” She groans again, feeling the irritation bubble up and begin to boil over. “We agreed that this is the perfect spot to stay. I'm already settled in. Why leave now?” 

“Enough with all the questions, please.” 

“Why?!” 

“Cause I fucking killed Gus! Okay?! Now please, can you speed this the fuck up so we can get into my goddamn car so we can find some other place to stay?!” Y/n calming but quickly rinses her body off and steps out of the shower, drying herself off much too quickly, basically still dripping wet and she throws the towel into a tiny laundry basket. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry throws both of his hands out.

 “Again! Jesus christ can you just put something on?” 

“Oh my god!” She throws a shirt at him, sliding panties up her legs and quickly getting dressed, deciding to go simple with a pair of yellow corduroy flares and a black rolling stones tee shirt tucked into it. “I guess lets fucking go since you decided to murder someone.” She grabs her back and Harry trails right behind her, walking down the long dark hallway. “We're literally on the run to try to get out of murder charges and you decided to kill the dude behind the check-in counter. What the fuck was that for?” Harry grumbles, obviously growing more and more agitated by her never ending questions and attitude. “I dont want to talk about it.” 

They hop in the car, and take off once again. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They've been driving for a while. 

If Y/n is honest, She’s kind of bummed that they had to leave that motel. At first she was just worried that they would catch wind of another murder and have her and Harry’s name tied to it, but thankfully their records are clean and Gus never took record of their stay. But now, she just misses it. It was a little spooky and there were other sketchy weirdos staying there but that comforted her more than anything. 

Y/n thinks she's feeling a touch homesick, after moving into her previous apartment she finally had a place of her own to call home with no roommate, it was all to herself. Having no sense of stability, only being on the road was kind of messing with her, but as much as she doesnt want to admit it to herself- and especially to him, having Harry as a partner in crime has been really great. 

“So, do you think youll ever go back to wherever you ran from?” Y/n shakes her head, her feet hung out of the window and a cigarette perched between her two fingers. “Nope. kind of starting fresh. Finding a whole new job and shit, a new place to stay. Maybe I’ll be an avon lady.” They both laugh at her joke. “Me too. Now that I've left there's no way I'm going back.” 

“Can I ask you a question and get an honest answer this time?” Harry quickly glances at Y/n, “Sure.” There is a beat of silence before she speaks again. “Why did you kill Gus? I can tell it wasn’t just because he pissed you off. We stayed up talking all last night and you dont kill unless you've got a good reason.” 

“So you want the honest answer?” 

“Yeah” 

“It was because of you.” 

“Me?!” Y/n shouts, she hardly spoke a word to Gus. 

“Yeah, he was telling me how hot he thought you were and for some reason I just kind of… lashed out.” 

Y/n takes a moment to process it, ashing her cigarette and taking one last drag on it before putting it out in the car's ashtray. She clears her throat, “So what, do you think i'm your girlfriend or something now?” 

“Well, if you want. I'm not uptight about shit like that or anything. We can just vibe it out.” Y/n softly laughs. “Okay, lover boy.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Y/n and Harry finally found a place to stay. Thankfully, Harry and Y/n both had good money saved up prior to them being on the run so they splurged at a nice hotel and decided to stay in the suite. 

This time, Y/n didn't throw a fit when she had to stay in the same room and same bed as Harry. She lets him be a gentleman and he carries her bag up to their room. This time, its going to be different. This time they are going to stay put,find a spot for them to settle down together- not just in a hotel room. Maybe they will put their lives of crime behind them and stick together as one happy couple. 

Maybe. 

Hiiiii!!!! If you liked this PLEASE reblog!! I’ll love you forever and I doubt a lot of people are going to read this due to sensitive subject matter but hoping this will hit my target audience 😭 im really scared that this got boring towards the middle but it was inspired by house of 1000 corpses! hope you liked it !

Tag list: @harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @victoria-styles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

[martheidrun]

« I bet on losing dogs »

(a redrawing of the painting : Courage, Anxiety and Despair, by James Scant)

[louiisaaah]

my mum pointed out how bad my one direction hyper-fixation is today. and she's right. i could talk for hours and hours about the 1D timeline, then dedicate another few hours to each of their solo careers. it's bad. not a minute goes by where i'm not thinking about one direction. i even made a powerpoint last night.

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3

[justmystyles]

stop writing the plus size readers as much cos most of us aren’t big and its kinda weird

Thanks for the message, there are a couple of things that I would like to address here:

While I do write a plus sized reader, her body type is not the focus of my writing. I don't even think I've really mentioned it that much in the actual stories. If I didn't specify in the header, you might not even ever know.

Congratulations for not being plus sized. I am, so that's what I am drawn to writing. Above all else, I write for me, and I want to see my body type represented.

There are soooo many wonderful writers out there, and a good number don't write plus sized readers. I would encourage you to find some of those stories if that's the content you're more drawn to.

If seeing me on your feed bothers you that much, feel free to block me. I don't mind. If all plus sized reader fics and that 'weird' to you, you can also filter out hashtags. That may be the best way to alleviate your discomfort without having to come down on anyone else.

TPWK 🖤

[angiiemariia]

Baby 🥹

[planetharrie]

harrystyles

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harrystyles Happy International Women’s Day to my girls and all the women out there💛 you inspire me everyday. -H

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annetwist 😘

yourusername this is beautiful H xx💐

harrystylesfan WE LOVE YOU💌💌

[littlelilaclina]

i love this song more than anything i’ve ever known.