harry zayn harry zayn harry zayn

i'm olivia and i’m 23 and my blogs a mess i'm sorry i'm lazy and i'm working on it

[harrystyles-recommendations]

older!harry

you again - by @jarofstyles

description: Harry regrets not getting the number of a girl he met at a speed dating event over a year ago.

pairing: older!harry x y/n

warnings: age gap (23/36), alludes to smut.

{part two} - sexual content, daddy kink

Keep reading

[1800titz]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

★18+ — 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗨𝗣𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 6/20/25

patreon masterlist (367.9K+ WC, exclusive works here, including extras for existing one shots and series.) IMPORTANT(!): sign up using a browser to avoid extra apple fees (check notice above for more info)

oneshots.

(& two-parters)

— JUST FRIENDS THAT FCK (camping, friend with benefits Harry) > 7.5K wc — SLIP (pottery instructor Harry) > 6.6K wc — RIDETHET!GER (pornstar Harry aka anal chronicles) > 8.6K wc & 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓!𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 (pornstar 2.0) > 4K wc — FILL (one night stand with Harry) > 2.5K wc

series.

FETISH — early access wip (spanko!Harry) The one in which there's an interesting blog focused on a niche genre of soft-core pornography, two next-door neighbors in an apartment complex with paper-thin walls, a simple case of misinterpretation, a man that runs from intimacy like there's an award waiting at the invisible finish line, and a pet bunny called Snuggles.

TDIAG — completed > editing wip (masked sex club au) The one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, an exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two evident sides to the same coin.

* SAIL MY RIDGES — incomplete, on hiatus (pirate Harry)

other things.

kinktober 2024

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɴɪʙʙʟᴇ — 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 (wholesome-ish, trivia host Harry and awkward ass reader)

collaborations | scattered concepts | concept directory by trope | patreon teasers

[freedomfireflies-deactivated202]

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms. 

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable. 

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship. 

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.” 

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath. 

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers. 

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.” 

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you. 

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door.  "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything. 

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs. 

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit. 

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale. 

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper. 

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly. 

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle. 

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet. 

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch. 

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees. 

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard. 

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation. 

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him. 

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it. 

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?" 

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip. 

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free. 

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has. 

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years. 

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?" 

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want  something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head. 

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches. 

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing. 

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper. 

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up. 

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin. 

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back. 

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful. 

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument. 

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.” 

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it. 

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear. 

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you. 

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone. 

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in. 

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear. 

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle. 

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—" 

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high. 

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

[didhewinkback]

how bad do you want me

a something old blurb inspired by the taxi pic but that pic was so sweet and this is definitely just filth

warnings: smut city baby; word count: 3k omg

---

“I’m home” he calls out from the hallway, the smile on his face growing when he hears the happy bark and your “we’re in here” call back.

He toes his shoes off and places his tote bag and jacket on the hook, shaking off the day. He feels good, there is nothing quite like a good day in the studio, when the creative juices are flowing just right, the music seeming to fly right off the page, his pen not able to move fast enough to capture the lyrics pouring out of him. Almost felt like divine inspiration but he knows the source of it, knows on the good days when everything’s working all he has to do is think about you and his mind instantly waxes poetic.

Images of you have flown through his head all day, - you in that wedding dress and you out of it, you dancing against him at that bar in Japan, you sunbathing on the beach in St. Tropez. Making him feel like he was burning from the inside out as couplets and sonnets and bridges poured from his brain. Knowing he could write about you everyday for the rest of his life and it still wouldn’t be enough but what a privilege to get to try anyway. 

He’s thrumming with the unreleased energy, the euphoria of a good session, the thrill of getting to go home to his muse. The new melody flowing through his head as he heads towards the tv room, his buoyant steps interrupted by the oaf of a dog greeting him halfway. 

“Hi sweet boy,” he coos, bending down to scratch at Sammy’s back, to accept his kisses as he greets him, tail wagging and body shaking. “Yeah yeah yeah, missed you too, you big oaf.” 

He presses a few kisses to his head and scratches his fingers against the dog’s scalp before standing up and heading through the doorway, having to lean against it at the sight of you on the couch. Hair still damp from a shower, long, bare legs stretched out against the pillows, wearing nothing but an old t shirt of his. He has to clench his fist to keep himself from just diving on top of you, swallowing to try to combat the way his mouth has just gone dry. Knowing all the songs in the world couldn’t capture just quite how he feels right now, looking at you. His wife. 

“Hi.” you say softly, smiling over at him, the glow of the tv making your face already more incandescent than it usually is. “Good day?”

He should answer, should attempt to string some sentences together but he just nods and makes his way over to you as quickly as his feet can carry him, kneeling one leg on the couch in between your thighs as his hand brushes along your cheek, cupping the back of your neck and he bends down to kiss you.

It should be soft, gentle, a greeting kiss for the first time you’ve seen each other since this morning but it’s instantly carnal, his tongue diving into your mouth when you gasp, the hand on the back of your neck tightening as he kisses you deeply, hungrily trying to explore every inch of your mouth. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before pulling away to press his lips against your jawline, dipping down to swirl his tongue against your neck.

“Good session?,” you ask breathlessly and he hums against your skin, biting down when you roll your hips up against his. You slide your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he continues his ministrations, knocking his hat off in the process. “Didn’t even take your hat off.”

“Needed you,” he mumbles, shifting so both his knees are on the couch, hovering over you as he brings his mouth back to yours, swallowing down your soft moan as his hand trails down your side, sliding up your t-shirt to clutch at your skin. He makes to move down your body when a soft whine coming from decidedly not you makes him pause. He groans, resting his head against your collarbone when you laugh.

“When was the last time he was out?” he grits out, feeling like he might die if he has to detach himself from you in any capacity. 

“Like 20 minutes ago.” you say, your hands sliding along the front of his sweater and pulling him in closer to you and he almost moans in gratitude.

“Alright, Sammy.” he says, turning to the dog laying patiently at the edge of the rug and lifting a hand to point to the bedroom where his dog bed lays. “Gonna need you to go into the other room, pal. ‘M about to do some things to your mom that may scar you for life.” 

You groan out a laugh as his genius boy, who's going to get so many treats after this, more treats than he will ever know what to do with, stands up and pads away, leaving the two of you alone.

“Dog’s a genius.” he says

“Can’t believe you just told him that,” you laugh and he grins, turning back to you and his breath catches in his throat. 

Your kiss swollen lips, the way you shake your head at him but that does nothing to soften the molten look in your eyes. He leans down to kiss you once before pulling away, pressing his mouth against your jaw, your neck, sliding down your body until he’s laying on his stomach, his head resting against your belly, his shoulders between your thighs. His knees are gonna be fucked tomorrow, bent at a weird angle but who cares when he’s got you looking at him like that, smelling this good. 

He closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to your stomach against the t-shirt still laying across it before pushing the hem up with his hands, his lips following his hands until the shirt rests right above your chest. He drags his lips against your breasts, sliding his hands down to your hips and squeezing when you let out a soft moan. 

“Thought about this all day,” he murmurs against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple before sucking it into his mouth in a smooth pull. He kisses across your chest before giving the other nipple the same treatment, fingers scratching against your skin when your hips buck up on their own accord. He kisses his way down, pausing at your stomach, licking a stripe across your skin before sucking a mark at your hip bone, the soft sounds coming out of your mouth making him feel like he’s on fire. A symphony he never tires of.

He rests his chin against your hip, looking up at you, the way you’re shakily breathing, staring up at the ceiling, your arms over your head, your shirt pushed up. You look back down at him, looking so gorgeously overwhelmed just from his mouth on your skin that he’s not sure he’s ever felt better about himself in his life. He did that, he does this to you. He has this effect, the same way you do to him. What a fucking gift to give someone as much pleasure as they give you. 

“Y’ so beautiful, you know that?” he practically growls out and he can see your heavy swallow, your tongue darting out to lick at your dry lips. “Got to spend all day writing songs about it. About how good you make me feel. Y’ make me feel so good.”

“H - jesus”, you gasp out as his mouth continues its trail down your skin, his hands sliding down your thighs and back up, a pattern that makes you whine. He could draw this out, could keep sucking marks into your skin, cataloging every moment that your hips twitch, but he knows if he doesn’t get his mouth on you now he’s going to lose his mind. His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, body doing a weird half press up to pull them all the way down your legs, kneeling at your feet as he pulls them all the way down your ankles and throws them on the ground. 

He pulls your ankle up to his mouth, his lips dragging against the skin of your calf, pausing to suck a mark on his way up as he lowers his body back down, hooking your leg over his shoulder as he drags his teeth against your skin.

“Wanna taste you, he murmurs, sliding down your body as he comes face to face with your core. “Want you all over my stache. Want to be able to smell you for days” 

A moan punches out of you at that, hips twitching towards his touch, his mouth and he just takes a moment to take you in, all of you. 

“Fucking - christ, baby,” he groans at the sight of you, how ready you are for him, just from his mouth on your skin. “I got y’ this wet?”

“Please,” you moan out, chest heaving and he has to rut against the couch to take the heat off, the arousal pooling in his stomach almost enough to make him shoot off right there at the sight of you like this. His eyes trail up and down your body, trying to catalogue everything to memory, knowing he’ll have inspiration for the next hundred sessions from the way you’re breathing, the way your body reacts to his touch and the guttural moan you let out when his mouth finally connects to where you need him the most. 

It’s sloppy and messy from the start, his tongue sucking your clit into his mouth in heady pulls, going harder when your hand slides into his hair and pulls as he licks a trail up and down your core. He presses soft, deep kisses against you, taking his time in a way you were not prepared for if the way your thighs shake against his shoulders are any indication. He slides his hands up your thighs, pulling you apart gently with his fingers to give his mouth more room, licking a trail down to your entrance, tongue darting inside to taste all of you. Living for the way you throw your head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as you roll your hips up into his mouth.

“H, I’m -”

“I know baby, I know.” he mumbles against you, giving you another hard suck that makes you cry out. “Always know just what you need, baby. Always gonna give it to you.”

He slides two fingers into you, deep from the start and your leg kicks out, foot knocking against his back and he doesn’t care, he wants to feel all of it, all of you. He’s a man possessed as he closes his eyes, focusing on nothing else but the feel and taste of you, his favorite taste in the world, the way you’re practically gushing into his mouth and he hasn’t even gotten you there yet. 

You’re out of words, he can hear you trying to speak but its just sounds at this point, and the thrill in reducing you to this state is indescribable. His fingers curl inside you just like you always like it as his nose nudges against your clit before he sucks it into his mouth, running his tongue up and down in a senseless pattern thats only goal is to make you scream. He can feel it before you try to warn him, the way you’re clenching against his tongue, moaning loud, pulling on his hair as your thighs tense against his head and you come, hard, moaning out a chant of his name over and over. 

He doesn’t let up, not yet, continues to drive his fingers into you, continues to taste as much of you as he can and you’re practically writhing against the couch, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re coming again, practically reduced to whimpers and he has to open his eyes, has to see the sheen of sweat against your forehead, your chest heaving as you gasp for breath, your blown out eyes as you tilt your head down to look at him. 

He presses more soft kisses to your core until you’re practically tugging his head away and dragging his head up to your mouth, kissing him deep the moment he’s close enough, the twist of your tongue against his, the way you’re practically leaning into your taste on his lips has him groaning into your mouth, his mustache rubbing against your skin in a way that seems to make you lose your mind, his hips rutting against yours in a way that makes you both hiss. 

“H, come on - need you -” you’re murmuring half completed sentences against his mouth as your hands slide to the hem of his sweater and pull - he leans away from you for all of two seconds to yank it over his head before his fingers find your jaw, tilting your mouth back to his. You start to tug at the waistband of his trousers before he gets the message, the desperation in your movement pulling him closer to the edge than he already feels. 

He pulls his trousers and briefs down in one go, standing up to shuck them all the way off and freezing in place when he looks down at you, sprawled naked against the couch with your thighs splayed wide. You lift up to pull your shirt over your head and to pull him back down, neither of you speaking, mouths dragging across each other’s skin as he guides himself into you.

“Fucking hell,” he grits out against your neck, biting down as he thrusts all the way in, one smooth push that has your hands sliding down his back to grip his arse. It’s tight, hot, wet, swollen heat, so wet and smooth he has to shut his eyes tight against the sensations flowing through him. “Baby I’m - shit. Not gonna last -”

“Don’t care,” you sigh as you guide his hips into yours again, your legs tightening around his as he fucks into you. He can’t help the moans spilling out of his mouth, would feel self conscious about how quick this is going to be but there’s no time to feel anything but you. The slide of your skin against his, the way you’re clenching down around him, the feel of your nails scratching up and down his back. It’s like you’re the only two people on the planet, nothing else matters but the slick feel of you around him, no thoughts in his head but how fucking good this feels, how fucking good it always feels with you. 

“I love you,” you moan out, as if reading his mind and a full body shudder runs through him as he tries to hold himself back, tries to make this last longer but he’s done for at the sound of your sweet voice in his ear, saying his favorite three words he’s ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth, still in disbelief that you’re saying them to him, that you vowed to say them to him for the rest of your life. “I love how you make me feel.”

“Baby, please -” he shushes you desperately as he licks his way into your mouth, your words pouring down his throat like the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted. Everything he’s ever wanted. 

“Want you to come,” you murmur as you pull away, his nose nudging against yours with every thrust, your hands sliding against his sweaty skin. “Want you to come inside me.”

The moan that escapes him seems to come from the depth of his core as white hot heat surges through him, giving two thrusts more before he comes inside you, teeth biting down on your neck, going to leave a mark but he doesn’t have time to worry about that, not when he feels this good. His body shaking with aftershocks as he punches his hips gently a few more times, unable to control the euphoria flowing through him. God, the way you make him feel. 

He practically collapses on top of you and you just bring your arms around him, both of you panting hard to catch your breath, the onslaught of emotion and feeling taking you both by surprise. It takes a few moments before he’s even able to move, tilting his head up to capture your mouth, kissing you softly, languidly, like he doesn’t know how to stop. Nor does he ever want to. 

You lay there for a while, soft moans pooling into each other’s mouths as you come down, hands sliding up and down your bodies, sweat cooling on your skin. He’s reluctant to move and it’s only when your kisses slow down in their ferocity does he shift, gently sliding out of you as he continues to drag his lips against yours before pulling away, pressing his mouth against your jaw and temple and burying his head into your neck. You run your hand gently through his hair as his hands slide up and down your sides, pausing every so often for a cheeky squeeze, a thumb grazing your nipple, his hand gently cupping your breast. Just wanting to be as close as possible for as long as possible, intertwining his legs with yours. 

“Am I crushing you?” he asks softly, his voice almost hoarse from all the sounds he’d been making. 

“Kinda like it,” you say and he huffs a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to your neck before sitting up. You instantly whine at the loss of contact.

“Hang on, darling. Just gonna -” he wraps his arm around you, pulling you with him as he lays back on the opposite end of the couch, rearranging for a few moments before you’re resting against his chest, his arm holding you securely to him, pressing his head against your hair and just breathing you in. You draw a finger up and down his chest, just drawing mindless patterns against his skin in a way that feels so nice. 

“Studio was that good, huh?” you ask, and he can feel your smile against his skin.

“Y’ can’t expect me to spend all day writing songs about you and not have to instantly get my hands on you.” he says, reveling in the way you shiver against him and he feels insatiable. He starts to mimic you, bringing a hand to draw light patterns across your chest, fingers slowly sliding down your belly and resting low. 

“What are you up to?” you murmur softly, not much fight in the question as you lean into his touch. 

“Just want to love on you some more, baby.” he says softly, sliding his fingers through your folds, circling your entrance and the mess there, living for every twitch and clench he can feel. “Let me hear some more of my favorite sounds.”

You tilt your head up, capturing his lips with yours as you gasp against his mouth as he starts to fuck his fingers back into you, moaning at his gentle touch. He revels in it, revels in you, revels in the sounds you make. His favorite song, the melody he’s always chasing. Loving how you make him feel, how you make each other feel, how you get to do this for the rest of your lives. He could write a million songs about this, about you, and he just might. How lucky is he?

---

that pic just did something to me okay !!!! blame the pic and the amount of espresso i had, i think this is the smuttiest thing i have written yet. hope u like it pls lmk what u think

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[didhewinkback]

likes to watch

these photos required a blurb out of me sry it took 800 years but heres 4k of smut from the something old universe

---

You flicked off the lights of the ensuite, throwing the towel into the hamper as you headed over to the floor length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, lotion in hand. It’s been a long week, culminating tonight with what felt like the longest work dinner of your life, capped off with desperately needed drinks with the only two coworkers who get it. 

You barely saw Harry all week, two ships passing in the night as you dealt with extensive crises at work and he spent his days doing his unemployed side quests. He had texted you once the show was out, seeing if you wanted him to pick you up on his way back but you were already home by then, hopping in the shower to scrub the corporate small talk away. You tightened the rope on your robe and took a deep breath, more than ready to be in that bed and as far away from this week as possible.

You heard the front door open, immediately followed by his whistling. It was a tune you didn’t recognize but it still brought a smile to your face, the impact the show he just saw had on him seemingly immediate, even if he wasn’t conscious of it. His whistling is almost instantly drowned out by Sammy’s barks, and you can almost picture the scene as you hear it. Him crouching to greet the dog, his “‘s only me, Sammy! Just saw you a couple hours ago mate, ‘m not back from war” before a softer “yeah, yeah I missed you too.”

You place the lotion on the dresser, squirting it into your palm and rubbing it into your face and neck as you listen to him coo at the dog. It’s a few minutes before you hear his footsteps down the hallway, his knuckles on the door as he pushes it open and you look over at him, almost choking on air when you get a sight of him as he leans against the doorway, smiling over at you. 

He looked good. 

The beard and hair both growing in nicely, the mullet look you were tentative about at first really doing wonders on you now. And the fit? 

The fit.  

The blazer over the tight fitted tee, tucked into trousers that made his legs look like they went on for days. You couldn’t help gaping a bit, your eyes roaming up and down as you got a good look. 

“Like the fit?” he asks with a laugh, your grin widening as you lock eyes. 

“Love the fit.” you say, your eyes snagging on the words emblazoned across his chest, squinting as you try to read the lettering. “What’s the shirt say?”

He smirks, keeping his shoulder pressed against the doorframe as he uses his free hand to pull one of the lapels of the jacket open, helping you read the words 'I like to watch'.

You huff a laugh, smirking as you look back at his face, eyes staring back at you with a twinkle, a glint, and not an ounce of shame. 

“Cheeky,” you murmur and if possible, his smirk only deepens, your stomach twisting. You just stand there, staring at each other for a few moments. “You look fucking fit.”

“So do you.” he says, eyes simmering as they sweep slowly down your body.

“Me?” you ask incredulously, looking down at yourself. “I’m wearing your old robe.”

“Meant what I said,” he shrugs, unbothered as he pushes off the doorframe and makes his way over to you. 

His hands come up to frame your face as he leans in to kiss you, stealing a few in rapid succession before pulling away and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You wind your arms around his neck, holding on as he rubs a hand up and down your back, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling back to look at your face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you say, leaning up to kiss him again. “Missed you this week.”

“Me too. You had a long week, huh? How was that dinner?” he asks, snorting a laugh when you make a face. “That bad?”

“Three of us immediately ran to a different pub the second it was over because we so desperately needed to talk shit,” you say, feeling warm down to your toes when he honks out a laugh. “The ballet was good?”

“So good,” he says, pulling a hand from your waist to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before pressing a kiss there. “Really inspiring. The movement and the music - just the way they use their bodies to tell a story, express an emotion. Made me think about how much I need to stretch.” 

You snort.

“Made me think about more than that, y’ ninny.” he says, pinching your chin between his index finger and thumb when you laugh. “‘M just saying, It really moved me in a way art hasn’t in a while, so I’m excited to see what comes from it.” 

“Mmm, me too,” you say, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You haven’t called me a ninny since we were, like, 12.”

“Felt right in the moment,” he says with a smirk and you laugh, shaking your head before reaching for the lotion on the dresser and he whines when you move out of his embrace.

“I’m almost done,” you say, “Just be two seconds.”

You lift your leg, resting it on the pouf beside you and you hear his sharp intake of breath when the sides of your robe fall back, revealing the skin of your naked thigh. You go to squirt the lotion onto your hands when his hand clasps around your wrist.  

“Let me do that,” he says quietly, taking the lotion from your hands as he presses a slow, soft kiss to your cheek. 

He sits down on the pouf, looking up at you with a warmth in his eyes, the promise of more. He taps his thigh, before curling his hand around your calf, bringing it up so your foot rests on his thigh, your knee in line with his shoulder. He smooths his hand over your skin, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in to press his lips to your thigh. He closes his eyes, taking a shuddering breath and losing himself in the moment, as he slowly drags his lips up along your skin.  He pulls back after pressing a kiss to your knee, squirting lotion on his hands before working them up your legs, rubbing it into the smooth skin, kneading the muscles. You have to reach out a hand to hold on to his shoulder for support as his hands move up under the robe, before sliding back out. 

He places your foot on the floor and grabs the other, giving it the same treatment, taking his time to kiss up along your inner thigh before he works the lotion into your skin, fingers digging into the muscles until they loosen under his touch. You can’t take your eyes off him, feeling your breath quicken as he moves his hands over your skin, eyes not wavering from yours as he goes higher and higher, just shy of where you suddenly need him the most. 

He smirks when you deflate slightly as he puts your other foot on the ground though he immediately makes up for it by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in between his legs, lips twitching at your sharp intake of breath. He rests his chin on your belly, looking up at you. You bring a hand up to drag through his hair and he leans into the touch, his hands holding you tight before loosening their hold, slowly moving up and down the robe, squeezing as he goes. He presses a kiss to the terry cloth fabric covering you before pulling at the tie, sighing happily when it comes undone, the robe falling open to reveal your naked body underneath. 

He leans in slow, taking his time to kiss along your belly as his beard scratches your skin. His hand slides up to grope at your breast, arousal pooling in your stomach when you feel his tongue dart out against your stomach. He groans when your hand tightens in his hair as he switches hands, bringing one hand to grope at your bum while the other works over your other breast. Christ. You just stand there, practically panting as he makes you melt underneath his hands and mouth, taking his time to suck a mark by your ribs. 

“Missed you so much this week,” he murmurs against your skin. “My hard working girl.” 

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down into this lap and burying his face into your neck, kissing a slow line up your neck.

“Smell so nice,” he murmurs, his hot breath making you squirm, your naked thighs sliding on his trousers. “Feel so soft and warm.”

His lips find their way up your jaw, nose brushing against your temple as he presses a slow kiss to your cheek, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, getting lower with each pass.

“Is this what the ballet inspired then?” you ask, breath catching when his hands knead your bum.

“No, this is all you, darling,” he murmurs against your cheek. “It’s always all you.”

His index finger draws back and forth on your jaw before turning your mouth towards his. He brushes his nose against yours, once, twice, wide grin breaking out when you let out a frustrated whine. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips to yours. It’s been mere minutes since he last kissed you, but it somehow feels like ages, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact before pressing in for more. Your hand sliding up into his hair as his mouth opens, his tongue rolling over yours in a smooth pass, making your thighs clench against his. Each kiss somehow deeper than the last, each of you pouring all you have into every kiss, every swipe of tongue, every lingering press of lips until you’re both gasping for breath. 

“Need to touch you.” He pants against your cheek before taking your mouth again.

“Please - oh.” you gasp against his lips as his hands trail down your body, inching closer and closer to where you’re wet for him before he freezes, stopping suddenly. 

“I - fuck. I’ve still got lotion on my hands.” he says breathlessly. “Trying to be sexy but don’t want to - like if I stick these inside you, I’m gonna give you an infection or summat.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, feeling his stomach shake with laughter as he mutters apologies against your temple.

“Ruined the moment haven’t I?”

“A bit of a dip in the momentum, I’d say” you say and he sputters a laugh.

“Just let me - gonna wash my hands. Just don’t want to - feel like that would be itchy later on down the road.” he says and you groan before laughing again. “Sorry, darling - sorry  - just give me a mo.” 

He kisses you quickly before sliding you off his lap and shuffling to the ensuite as you take a deep breath, the unexpected break making you aware of your racing heart, the ache between your thighs. You can hear the sink and his frantic scrubbing, shaking your head as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, huffing a laugh as you take in the sight, the open robe, the messy hair, the sections of your neck where your skin’s been rubbed raw by his beard. 

You hear the sink turn off, can hear his footsteps making their way back into the room and turn to face him. He stops in his tracks when you look at him, murmuring “wow” before shaking his head slightly and closing the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist once more.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to kill the vibe. But ‘m all clean now, ready to just -” he pauses, jabbing his two fingers in the air, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “get up inside you now.”

“Jesus Christ.” you honk out a laugh as he tightens his hold on you, giggling into your neck. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry” he apologizes through giggles. “Had y’ right where I wanted yeh a few minutes ago, let’s get back to that, yeah? Let me make you feel good.”

He leans in, lips brushing against yours as he mumbles “Back to our regularly scheduled programming” that has you laughing against his mouth. 

“You are so stupid.” you say before he shushes you and quiets you with kisses, pressing his lips to yours firmly before sucking on your bottom lip. He dives back in for more, licking into your mouth slowly, letting you fall back into the rhythm you were in before only this time it's more charged somehow. He’s a man on a mission as he pulls away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, his tongue darting out for a taste. 

“Yeah but y’ love me, right?” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin. “Y’ think I’m funny? That I look nice?”

You hum noncommittally as he pulls you closer, though you find yourself taking in his outfit once more, eyes scanning him from top to bottom, snagging on the parts you like best. When you look back up at him, his eyes are dark, hungry, his jaw clenched as he brings a hand up to cup your face.

“Do y’ have any idea how you look at me when y’ like what I’m wearing?” he says, practically growling, his eyes lit up in the way they get when he’s got his mind set on something, a chill rushing down your spine at the thought of that something being you. “Not even sure if I can describe it…makes me feel like I’m on fire.”

He pinches your chin between his index finger and thumb, holding you in place as he claims your mouth, taking his time to kiss you so thoroughly your head spins.

“Sometimes when I’m, like, nervous about an outfit, I’ll picture your face seeing me in it,” he says when he pulls away. “The way you look at me - the way you devour me with your eyes. Makes me feel like I can do anything. Y’ make me feel so good about myself, the way you want me.”

“I do - I do want you” you say breathlessly, his confession making your heart race, the never ending pattern of his hands and mouth making arousal pool in your stomach. You’re needy and wet -

“Gonna show me?” he murmurs against your mouth, smirking when you nod. “Me too. Gonna show y’ how much I want you. How much I always want you. I always -”

You moan, cutting him off with a hard kiss, your tongue swiping over his in a way that has him groaning into your mouth. You pull him impossibly closer, your hands sliding up his blazer covered arms and over his shoulders, weaving your hand into his hair as you sink deeper into the kiss. 

He pulls away slowly, panting as he kisses your jaw slowly, tongue darting out to taste your skin.

“Turn around,” he mutters lowly, spinning you in his hold until your back is against his chest, his hands splaying across your stomach. You look up to see that you’re both now facing the mirror. 

Oh. 

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, pulling the robe up and off your shoulders, letting it crumple in a pile at your feet. He pulls your body up against his as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, running his hands up and down your body. His eyes dragging up and down your reflection, feeling like molten lava as they take you in. “God, look at you.”

The momentary instinct to look away from the mirror, to hide from the reflection of your naked body is immediately overpowered by the sight you see, your naked body against him in his suit, his clutches turning white knuckled in desperation as he drags his mouth along your neck, mumbling praise into your skin without ever breaking eye contact with you. Where this should be a vulnerable situation, instead you feel dead sexy. Amost turned inside out with how much you want, how much you need him. You can feel how much he wants you, how he’s already hard for you, just from this. You can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. And fuck if it’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

Your chest is heaving as he pauses his ministrations, resting his hands on your lower belly before bringing one up to clutch at your jaw, instantly covering your mouth with his. You wind your arm around his neck, hand grasping at the hair at the nape as he groans into your mouth, fingertips sinking into your skin. 

He slides his hand down and you gasp against his mouth as you feel his fingers sliding through your folds.

“Fuck - feel that?” he groans as his fingers lightly circle your clit, your hips twitching towards his touch. “I know, I know. Gonna take care of you, baby.”

He kisses you deeply once more, before pulling away and guiding your head back to face the mirror. 

“But I want you to watch.”

He hooks his chin over your shoulder, dark eyes never wavering from yours as he draws circles on your clit, kissing you on the shoulder when you moan. 

“Yeah - let me hear you,” he groans as he continues to draw circles on your clit, increasing his pressure the more sounds you make. 

Your stomach burns with arousal, feeling a deep ache in between your thighs as he teases his fingers over your entrance before bringing them back up to your clit. He does this over and over, smirking at you in the mirror before you finally break, a whimpered “please” that has him clenching his eyes shut for a moment. Seeing his reaction in the mirror makes you just about lose your mind. You slide your hand up his arm, clutching at the muscles that flex beneath your palm as the fire burns in your belly. 

“‘M right here, baby. I got you.” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your temple, facial hair scratching into your skin as he dips his fingers lower, sliding two fingers into you with ease. “Fuck - all this for me?”

You nod, barely able to swallow back a moan as he works you over with his fingers, fucking them into you deeper before he reaches the spot that makes you cry out. 

“Fuck, H -” 

“That’s it,” he groans, his palm rubbing over your clit as he curls his fingers deeper. You’re practically soaking his hand but can’t bring yourself to care, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when he’s making you feel this good. You can feel your abdomen tighten, knees weakening as he brings you closer and closer to your high. He presses his palm down hard on one particular stroke that has you shutting your eyes and leaning your head back before he tuts. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Want you to look at me when you come.” He smacks a kiss to your temple when you open your eyes. “‘S my girl.”

He doubles down on his efforts and what was once a slow burn is now a raging fire. Your eyes never waver from his as he murmurs endless streams of praise into your ear. You’ve never been so on display and you’ve never felt hotter as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge. You can barely make sense of the sounds you’re making, trying desperately to keep your eyes open, finding yourself transfixed by the way his brow is furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes never move from your reflection, sheer determination as he takes you apart. 

Your chest heaves as you try to get a breath in but he’s overwhelming all your senses. You clench down on his fingers and it’s the guttural groan you get in response that sends your right over the edge with a curl of his wrist. You see stars as you come, hand sliding along his jacket sleeve as he mutters praise into your ear, working you through your high until you’re batting his hand away. 

You watch breathlessly as he slides his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth, eyes locking with yours as he sucks, moaning at the taste. You spin in his hold, crashing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around your neck. His hands immediately adjust, big palms squeezing your bum as he kisses you deeper. You slide a hand up into his hair, pulling as he opens his mouth wider and you give as good as you’re getting. You pull your mouth away, moving to kiss along his jaw as you slide a hand down his front, fingers dancing over his pecs before sliding down his abs, smirking when the muscles jolt at your touch.

Without pulling your mouth away from his neck, you unbutton his trousers and slide your hand inside his briefs, sliding your hand along his length, gasping when you feel how hard he is for you. He grunts when you start to stroke him, fingers digging into your skin when you lean up to say in his ear, “Need this inside me.” 

He moans, leaning down to capture your lips with his before walking you backward into the mirror, hand coming up to cradle your head from hitting it. 

“Want it like this,” he mumbles against your mouth, hands coming to squeeze at your hips. “Want y’ against the mirror.”

He spins you around, your chest pressing against the cool glass as he takes a step back and pulls your hips flush against his so that only your hands touch the mirror, your back arching to put you back on complete display, giving you a vantage point of everything. His eyes sear through you as he drags them up and down your form, knuckles clutching and eyes darkening as he visually devours you.

He nudges your heels apart with his foot, spreading you wider as he pulls down his trousers and briefs, just enough to pull himself out. Making no moves to take off any of his clothes. The image alone sends a shiver down your spine.

 You’re so close together, you can feel when he strokes himself a few times, knuckles dragging against your bum. He looks up at you, shaking his head almost in disbelief before leaning in to press kisses along your spine, palms dragging up and down your spine. 

“Look so hot like this,” he mutters, bringing one hand to rest on your hip while the other wraps around his cock, guiding it towards your core. You both moan when he slides the head against your entrance. He taps it against your clit, hand tightening on your hip when you gasp, eyes locking with yours.  “Ready?” 

“Need you.” you moan out and he pushes into you in one swoop, sliding his hand up your back to wrap around your shoulder, pulling you back as he thrusts forward.

“Christ,” he groans, taking it slow as he thrusts into you steadily, letting you get used to the stretch. “Feel so fucking good.” 

You lock eyes in the mirror as you push your hips back, meeting his thrust halfway, brow furrowing as his mouth drops open from the feel. His grip on your shoulder tightens and suddenly, It’s hard and fast instantly, the sound of your skin slapping against each other reverberating through the room. You can’t take your eyes off his reflection. The clench of his jaw, the vein in his neck bulging as he pulls you back onto his cock over and over. 

Your hands slip on the glass with the force of his thrusts, fire licking up your spine at the reflection in front of you. The way his muscles bulge under his clothes, the way his clothes look against your naked body. The way every clash of your hips punches out a sound from him that makes your stomach twist, how a particular circle of your hips has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

“Prettiest thing I’ve seen all night. Love watching you. ” he grunts out, brushing your hair away from your sweaty nape, letting the cool air hit it before wrapping his palm around the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. “Gonna make me come. Y’close?”

You nod, words failing as each drive of his hips brings you racing to your finish for the second time tonight. 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. C’mon.” he murmurs. “Wanna watch you come on my cock.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than you’re bringing your hand to your clit, rubbing fast circles that have you practically whimpering. He’s muttering encouragement as you struggle to keep your eyes open. His hand slipping from the back of your neck to the front. One squeeze is all it takes for you to come, feeling your walls flutter around his cock as you moan.

“So good for me. Such a good girl.” he grunts, squeezing his hand around your neck once more as he pistons his hips, before moaning lowly, coming hard as you feel him spill inside you, squeezing your neck as he collapses onto your back. He places on hand next to yours on the mirror for support, panting against your head as he catches his breath. His hand not on the wall dragging up and down your spine, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you both come down from your high.

He squeezes your shoulder before pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants as you push off the mirror, turning to face him. You smile at each other, huffing out laughs before he pulls you towards him, cupping a hand under your jaw as he captures your lips in a kiss, tongue smoothing over yours. 

“That was fucking hot,” he murmurs before claiming your mouth again. You hum in agreement, sliding your hand up and into his hair, fingers looping through sweaty strands as you kiss each other deeper. 

The kisses slow, eventually. Your racing hearts returning to their normal pulses, hands grazing each other’s bodies slower until you both pull back. 

“Do you think that’s how everyone else ended their night at the ballet?” you ask and he barks out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling around the edges as he tilts his head back. 

“Reckon so.” he says, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta take Sammy out.”

“I’ll come with you,” you say, heart flipping when his grin widens. “Just gimme a sec.”

You kiss him quickly before heading off into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. How well fucked you look. 

You head back out, grabbing an old shirt of his and gym shorts from the dresser, feeling his eyes on you as you quickly get dressed. 

“You’re not going to change?” you ask, looking over at him as he shrugs.  

“My girl likes my fit. Trying to see if I can get lucky twice in one night,” he says, grin widening as he holds open the door for you, hand on your lower back as you make your way down the hallway. He wraps his arm around your waist, slipping his hand up under your t-shirt, splaying his hand against your belly.

And yeah, he probably will.

---

a/n: did not edit this whatsoever needed to get it out in the world bc i had been working on this for so long. and its absolute filth i could not bring myself to read back. lmk what you think !

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[hiddiesontour]

HIDDIES ON TOUR

- LOT2023, Warsaw

[1800titz]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

★18+ — 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗨𝗣𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 9/30/24

patreon masterlist (exclusive works here, including extras for existing one shots and series.)

kinktober 2024

ONESHOTS

JUST FRIENDS THAT FCK (camping, friend with benefits Harry) SLIP (pottery instructor Harry) RIDETHET!GER (pornstar Harry aka anal chronicles) & 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓!𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 (pornstar 2.0) FILL (one night stand with Harry)

SERIES

TDIAG — completed (masked sex club au) SAIL MY RIDGES — incomplete, on hiatus (pirate Harry)

taste of patreon exclusives 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐒 (enemies to lovers, shibari instructor Harry) 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 (wholesome-ish, trivia host Harry and awkward ass reader)

collaborations | scattered concepts | concept directory by trope | patreon teasers

[ihearthes]

“I felt for him – he was imprisoned in his hotel room. He could never leave because of all these girls desperate to get even a glimpse of him. They were waiting around for hours and hours. I didn’t have any dialogue scenes with him, so we only had a couple of nights together - watching European Cup football. And I found him really witty, gracious and thoughtful. A very, very handsome man with an inner magnetism and charisma, which is why I think people are attracted to him.”

— Mark Rylance talking about working with Harry  (via thedailystyles)

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Locked Out of Heaven-- Harry Styles

_________________________

“Never had much faith in love or miracles

Never wanna put my heart on the line

But swimming in your water is something spiritual

I’m born again everytime you spend the night.“

______________________

Frantic breathing and heavy panting echos throughout the empty corridor on the fifteenth floor of the St. Regis Oriental Hotel as Harry and I tumble out of the only half-way opened doors of the elevator, our lips locked in a heated battle. I have my fingers tangled in his soft curls, keeping his mouth pressed to mine as if my life depended on it.

“I’ve missed you so much.” His voice has a raspy edge, making a small smile paint my face at how turned on he already is. “I missed being able to hug you and kiss you during the time I walked by the Eiffel Tower. I missed being being able to sit by the pool with you with our feet in the water while I was at the coral reefs in Australia. But most of all, I missed the way you take my cock and completely destroy me while I was lying all alone in my bunk on the bus, moaning your name into my pillow with my hand down my pants.”

His admittance makes me flush, Harry reaching forward and trapping me in his embrace, his strong arms clamping around my waist, keeping me in his iron grip as he lurches forward towards the door of our room. He scrambles down the long hallway, half-carrying and half-dragging my body along with him. Elegant paintings and detailed wallpaper flash by in a blur as we stumble blindly over the carpeted floor, everything around us becoming irrelevant as lust and desire clouds our minds. As we are arriving at our destination I began to question if Harry has the key because I know for a fact that I hadn’t picked it up before we left for dinner with the boys.

Just as my lips part to ask him the question, the first word barely slipping out of my mouth, Harry turns abruptly, slamming me into the sleek mahogany wooden door. An inhumane squeak of surprise emits from my throat, ringing clear through the air around us and bouncing off of the walls, but Harry silences me by crashing his swollen lips against mine, biting down in a rough outburst of dominance.

“Do you…do you have the k-key?” I mutter into his mouth, my words muffled by his tongue as it pushes down my throat, making me gag slightly as a prickling sensation washes over my face and down my neck.

Harry seems to ignore the question, sliding one large hand down my back and over my bum, hooking it right under my left thigh. He pulls it up onto his hip, pressing me farther into the door to keep me elevated as he repeats the action to my opposite leg, leaving my calves to dangle behind him. He presses his rapidly growing bulge over my moistening crotch, rocking his hips forward gently at first, but picking up pace as his erection continues to harden beneath me. I can feel just how unsettled he’s becoming over his tight ripped skinny jeans and when I glance down I find myself to be correct, a small damp blotch spreading from where his prick is making a tent in the dark fabric of the pants. Small groans slip from his lips as he speeds up, the volume of his voice also rising.

Under regular circumstances, I would never let him do this in public, but the crew rented out this entire floor just for the whole tour team–including me and the boys– and we ditched them back at the restaurant, leaving the entire floor empty.

Not only is it good under the immediate situation, but from having gone over to his flat once and found him jacking off, I can assure you that Harry was in no way quiet during shagging. That’s how I’d found out he was getting himself off– I hadn’t walked in on him; hearing him all the way down from the kitchen had been enough proof. I look up at him, repeating the question as I press open-mouthed kisses down his throat and onto his collarbone. He jerks as I sink my teeth down into his warm, smooth skin, warning me to not become too nippy because of his photo-shoot tomorrow.

“Yeah, I have the key, baby. Don’t worry if it doesn’t fit– we’ll make sure it does.” Harry finally answers, glancing down at me as a wide grin breaks across his lips, causing me to roll my eyes at his immature joke. “No, you idiot. The key– the card to the door.” I mutter, grinding down onto his dick to the best of my ability considering I’m suspended above ground and practically helpless.

“Fuck– yeah, I have it. It’s–uh–it’s in my back pocket.” He gets out, pushing himself farther up to gain more friction on his throbbing crotch.

I drag my nails down his clothed back, one hand tugging roughly on the collar of his dark navy button-down to bring the side of his neck down to meet my lips. I suck the skin inbetween my teeth, causing him to hiss through his gritted teeth.

My other hand reaches behind him, sliding my fingers into his back pocket and pulling out the small laminated plastic card with the door’s barcode stamped across the back. I squeeze his ass softly, causing him to chuckle at my small act of naughtiness.

I hurriedly slide the card into the slot and as soon a the lock clicks open, Harry shoves me through the door, stomping into the silent bedroom and kicking the door closed with his foot.

He gruffly flings me onto the bed and I sit up to watch as he nearly rips off his trench coat, throwing it in the general direction of the sofa couch. He slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, winking at me.

“Wouldn’t want to get this dirty. Caroline would have my head.”

“I would, too. It’s a lovely shirt.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. You look so damn sexy.” I whisper as I watch his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of the shirt, sending a deep pang of lust inbetween my legs.

“I promise I’ll wear it more often.” Harry drops his hands from fumbling with the buttons and shrugs off the expensive shirt, climbing onto the king-sized bed. He’s towering over me before I even blink twice.

“Did you notice how I barely ate dinner before we left?” He leans down, connecting his lips with my upper chest, sucking at the skin just above the edge of my floral blouse.

“Y-Yeah.” I nod my head, his teeth nipping a trail of blissful acid up my throat and to my lips, his warm breath washing over my nose and cheeks.

He had, in fact, seemed a bit detached during supper. Had barely even touched his food, which was so unlike Harry because, next to Niall, he ate the most out of the entire band. Whenever I had glanced over to see what he was doing, I was met with an intense gaze, the corners of his mouth tilting up ever-so-slightly into an amused and knowing smirk as if he possessed information I did not.

“Want to know why?” Harry runs his fingers through my hair, twirling the strands and tugging at them as his other hand glides down to cup me over my jeans. My hips give a quick buck, his touch fusing the fire of utter need that was churning inside me at the moment.

“Why?“

“Because the whole time I was thinking about how much better you would taste than the food.”

I react to his comment straight away, my nose and cheeks stinging at his crude yet desirable suggestion. He uses my distraction to his advantage and flips me over, pulling me over his hips to straddle him.

He unbuttons my jeans, telling me to lift myself up so he can slide them off. After my pants are disposed of, his fingers hook onto my panties, glancing up at me with a devious grin plastered across his face as he drags them down my hips and off.

My breath catches as his large hands roam the skin of my exposed legs, goosebumps erupting along the path of his light fingertips.

“I bet you taste even better than the last time.” Harry whispers quietly, digging his nails into my hips and pulling them forward. He settles me over his face, my knees on either side as I keep myself propped over him. I press the palms of my hands against the exquisitely curved railings of the headboard, my fingers wrapping around the metal bars in anticipation.

His gaze is burning into me, his eyes flicking over my dripping core as his hands roughly massage my bottom, making my legs quiver and making it harder to stay up.

His arms loop over both of my thighs, his hands groping the fleshy skin along my upper legs as he begins to pull me closer to his mouth, his tongue wetting his lips as he gets ready to taste me for the first time in weeks.

My breathing is rapid and shallow, the notion of having Harry in such a promising position making my stomach twist in pure longing for his touch and the feel of his lips passing over my eager sex. I’d never known the sheer euphoria that could come from being eaten out until Harry had taken it into his interest to show me and it’s more than safe to say that he has more talent with his lips and fingers than anyone could ever imagine.

My grip instinctually tightens when I feel the warm skin of his cheeks pressing against my inner thighs and I have half a second to gather myself before I feel his lips incase my throbbing crotch.

My back arches forward as I feel his hot lips gently tucking in around my folds, making himself a snug fit against me. My knuckles are white from how hard I’m gripping the headboard railings, the suspense he’s purposefully putting me in making me want to tear out my hair.

Moonlight filters in through the curtains in the large suite, reflecting across Harry’s eyes as they dance with smugness. His right eyebrow flits up ever-so-slightly, taunting me.

I become impatient and take it upon myself to suffice the raging gnawing in my stomach, rocking my hips against his lips to ignite a fraction of the raw pleasure that I know only Harry taking over could ever provide me.

Ecstasy boils up from my center, the flames of bliss lapping up against the pit of my stomach and spreading down my legs and all the way to my toes, a few whimpers rebelling against my lips. Harry finally gives in, his tongue flicking out to play against my over-teased bundle of nerves.

“Oh, shit, Harry!” I dig my teeth into my lower lip, latching harder onto the headboard as my hips grind against Harry’s willing tongue, reacting to his actions.

I feel a chuckle forming in the back of his throat, the vibrations rolling up through my wired body and causing me to shutter against him. Harry slowly begins to move his head from side to side and gradually picks up speed, stimulating me farther than I thought possible.

“Oh my fucking God…” I gasp, reaching down to fist his hair, encouraging him to keep going. “Do you know– oh– how fucking good you are at this?”

He hums proudly as he nods his head, his movements matching the strokes of his tongue. I let out a strangled gasp as he pulls my legs open wider, my body tilting forward to be completely supported by his hands and face, spreading me even more apart so he can go deeper. I’m hugging the headboard to my chest, the strong hold I have working as a reinforcement to keep my sanity from slipping away. I begin to rut against him, my body making itself accustomed to the rhythm he’s set, meeting every prod of his tongue in just the right way that it makes me let out a garbled scream.

My fingers are wound tight into the knots of his hair, tugging at it with an almost cruel strength, but the feeling he’s casting upon me is too much to control and the soft hum of his approval only pushes me to pull harder. My head lulls forward to take in his appearance, the image before me hitting me as the purest form of sex I’ve ever experienced. Harry’s dark jade gaze is set on my face, his eyes drinking in my vulnerable state of being like a tall glass of wine, savoring every last drop of sheer anguish that is dripping down my body and reflecting across my face.

He blinks sluggishly, a glint of what I interpret to be desperation blossoming into his fierce eyes. I feel the helpful hold he has on my hips slide away, making me teeter back without the needed support of his arms. One of my own arms flings back, finding perch on his hard stomach to keep me from falling off of him. Any mocking he had been showing before has abandoned him, his eyebrows scrunching together in a pleading expression.

I cast a glance behind me, my eyes narrowing to where his fingers are grappling with the buckle of his aged leather belt.

We hadn’t seen one another in months, meaning we hadn’t shared any passionate nights in even longer than that, which only ate away at both of us by causing many restless nights of sexual frustration for eachother. This is the absolutely corroding feeling he is experiencing right now, which makes me sympathize with him.

I reach back, helping him tug his belt loose, my own craving soaring even higher as I’ll finally being able to see and feel him after so much time apart.

I watch with excited hunger as he quickly unbuttons his tight jeans, shoving them off his legs in record timing. His immense hard-on presses against the fabric of his black briefs, begging to be released from its restraints.

I drag the palm of my hand lower along Harry’s pelvis, trailing down to the straining bulge at his center. My hand slides under the fabric, his rough coarse hair brushing against my fingertips as I graze his shaft. A sharp, muffled whine of approval emits from under me and I turn back around, tilting my head down to watch his face as I touch him.

Harry’s eyes have widened, the black of his pupils dilated to take up most of the green around them, making his eyes appear pleading and doe-like. He gives his head a few urgent nods, reigniting the bliss in my abdomen. I don’t hesitate to grope him, tugging him out of his boxers and immediately beginning to stroke him. The head of his large cock is a dangerous shade of purple, the rest of him tinted a painful shade of pink at how long he’s been waiting to be taken care of.

“You’re so big.” I murmur as I move my hand up and down on his erection, my palm caressing the soft skin that I can’t wait to be inside me.

One of my hands grips the headboard as the other pumps him from base to tip, wanting to please him in the ways I haven’t been able to since he left for the first leg of the tour.

His eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure, his hips jerking up into my palm to produce more of the delicious sensation that I know is mirroring my own. A stuttered groan find its way out of his lips, filled with words of encouragement about how good I’m making him feel. I shift myself a bit and he somewhat remembers that I’m still over him, the small movement kick-starting him into finishing me off.

He gruffly grabs my hips, energetically starting to lap at me to the point where it seems like I’m the first meal he’s had in days. He focuses mainly on sucking, his tongue flicking back and forth at a mind-boggling speed to where I begin to feel lightheaded. I recognize this as a sign of climax, meaning my release could spill over at any second without warning.

“Harry, please, oh God yes, please!” The hand that was working him seizes to keep going, the building in my stomach becoming the only action I want to be aware of. He doesn’t seem to mind, my cries egging him on to make me come.

I can hear his breathy pants echoing around the dark room, his focus being entirely on my pleasure and less on his intake of air as he murmurs dirty promises on what he’s going to do to me.

“You like riding my face, don’t you? You fucking love it when I eat you out. You love it, right, baby? And when you touch me– love it when Daddy let’s you be a naughty girl and give him a handy, yeah? Mmm, say you love it.” Harry gasps out, short bursts of air interrupting his words as he speaks everything that is flicking through the pages of my mind.

“I love it, Harry, I love it.” I nod my head frantically, watching as lust explodes across his eyes like lighting.

I can feel myself stumbling on edge, wanting nothing more than for Harry to give me the last push that will send me spiraling into the void of ecstasy.

“I’m so close, Harry, so close.” I mumble, running my hand down to the hem of the blouse I realize I never stripped off. I harshly tug it over my head, chucking it to an unknown direction and reaching back for the clip of my beige-toned bra. I slip it off, letting it fall away onto the floor without seconds thoughts.

Harry reaches up, cupping both of my breast in his large hands and giving each nipple a soft squeeze. I inhale as if I’ve just been shot, electricity coursing through my veins at his sensual touch.

“I can’t wait to see how sweet you are, angel.” His voice has become deep and raspy, his accent enunciating every syllable of his words as he speaks. “Your warm come dripping into my mouth and sliding down my chin. So delicious, darling. Let me feel you come.”

My back gives an involuntary arch, the boundary that seems to have been holding in my release snapping like a twig and letting out wave after wave of sheer euphoric thunder rock across my body.

I cry out blindly, my hands reaching up to yank at the roots of my sweaty hair as Harry keeps licking me up, every drop of my excitement being cleaned up by his eager tongue.

He slowly pushes me onto his chest, wrapping his arms around me as I fall forward, utterly worked.

“Was it good?” He whispers into my hair, his lips brushing the spot behind my left ear and sending a shiver down my shoulders.

“So, so good.” I answer wistfully, trying to get my breathing back in reign. “You’re so good.”

“We’re still not done yet.” He whispers, and I feel him press his hips into my thigh, reminding me of the flushed and more-than-ready state I had left him in.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Harry.” I mumble weakly, the dull throbbing in my core becoming more evident. I hadn’t been through anything of what we had just done in so long that even just him going down on me was enough to leave me wary and half-asleep, meaning I would barely survive him trying to make me orgasm again without being sore and over-sensitive for maybe even days.

He slowly slides his arms from around me, propping himself on his elbow to stare directly into my eyes, letting show through how worked up he is. “Baby, please? I know you can– you’ve done it before. I’m so hard and it’s been too long since I’ve been inside you, I can’t take another second. Please, Y/N, please.”

Harry starts to squirm, the heat from my tired body radiating onto him and intensifying the want that is coursing through his mind. I grip onto his shoulder, pulling him closer to me so that our lips collide in a sloppy, passion-filled kiss that makes my cheeks and nose tingle. I blink up at him groggily, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I scan his hopeful eyes.

“Take me.” I finally sigh into the kiss, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases. He moans his gratitude against my lips, the tremble of his ragged voice breaks through my hazy mind-state, rekindling some of the lust from before, making my blood bubble with want all over again.

Harry doesn’t waste any time as he wraps me into his arms, sitting back on his feet so that he’s holding me up against his slightly damp chest. He cradles the back of my neck, tilting me closer to him so that his warm lips connect with my throat. I mewl in agreement, begging him to take me in any way he wants as he suckles my delicate skin inbetween his teeth.

“I want you from behind.” I hear the rough gravel of his voice rumbling in his chest, the lucid starving for sexual release causing him to take on a more dominant tone.

“Just do it!” I nearly yell, my own cravings getting the better of me.

Harry rips his mouth away from the now raw skin along my jugular, his huge hands encasing the area just below my waist and flipping me onto my stomach in a flash of linen sheets and flailing limbs. I crane my head to the side just as he slams his hands down on either side of my head, his fingers digging into the mattress as he lets his body hover over me.

I feel him pressing into the dip of my back, his exposed cock dribbling some of its hot pre-come onto my blushed and sweaty flesh. My abdomen instantly tightens, the heated weight of his groin dabbing against my bare skin prodding my senses to go insane.

Supported entirely by his arms, I can see the muscles of his forearm becoming taunt as he lowers himself ontop of me, the brush of contact making me jerk as he presses his lips against the back region of my shoulder, his hair tickling the skin in his wake. He drags his lips to the center of my upper back and up to the edge of my ear, playfully nipping at it as he speaks.

“I’m going to make this last, sweetheart.” Harry breathes his words so that the warm air dances across my left cheek and down my neck, tugging a tremor from me at his sluggish velvet words. He traces his lips back to the top of my back, opening his mouth up more so the kisses he delivers are damp and mind-spinning, the sensation throwing my nerves into over-drive.

“I’m going to fuck you slow at first– I’m going to make sure you feel everything– every single inch of my cock as it pounds into you…” His sentence trails off as his lips descend along the line of my spine, blowing air against the wet patches he is leaving.

I have the fine white sheets clutched in my hand, fisting them as I try to keep my control. Harry knows precisely what he’s doing. He knows that with these hot, sloppy kisses and deep, low dirty talk that he’s winding me up to the point where he can make me snap just as easily as he can clap his hands. Harry always has a method of madness– a way to completely destroy me from the inside out without even being inside me yet– and each time, no matter how prepared I was, it worked. And now, considering I am so unprepared since I haven’t been receiving this type of treatment from him in so long, it was easier than ever for him to mess with me. This is what pain in paradise is– this is what sex with Harry is.

My eyes screw shut as I try my best to maintain my breathing level, wanting to hold everything in until I had him inside me. He likes it when he can make me go mad because it’s reassurance to him that he hasn’t lost his special touch.

Harry is now sucking on the skin along my lower back, biting down gently at my hips as the next promise leaves his mouth.

“And then, baby– after I’ve touched every single spot inside you that I know will have you screaming–, then I’ll finish taking you. I’ll fuck you so senseless you’ll forget every other feeling you’ve ever had except for when I’m inside you. You know I love it rough you, baby. And if I recall correctly, so do you?” He ends his thoughts in a question, pausing his actions to glimpse up at me.

I nod my head, staring up at him as he smooths his hands down my sides and onto my hips, pulling them up as he stands to balance on his knees. My ass is basically in the air, Harry kneading it as he shoves his knee inbetween both of my legs, the action being a sign to tell me to spread myself open. “That’s what I thought.”

Harry’s tongue slips out to wet his red-tinted lips, his eyes trained on my throbbing center. He peels his gaze away, leaning forward so that his nose is brushing my shoulder, his chest pressed to my back. He gives small pecks along the entire area, one of his hands looping under my stomach while the other reaches up and pushes all of my hair over my face to expose the back of my neck and to allow me to get a better look at him.

The view is taken away when he settles his chin onto the shoulder I was looking over, pressing his nose into the crook of my neck. His eyes pierce into me, the green a deep forest emerald and clouded with lust. A few ringlets of his silky hair fall across his forehead, sticking to the anticipation sweat that has made a thin sheen across his face. His teeth are digging into his lip, making it change a few darker shades of red than before and I find myself fixated by how incredibly tempting he can make himself look with barely any effort.

I’m too distracted by him that when he finally pushes into me, it hits me like a stone block.

I yelp out in a mixture of surprise and pain, his large length stretching me out for the first time in too long. I let out a strangled squawk, his cock being bigger than I could remember. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes, the sharp stinging in my abdomen beginning to get the best of me.

“You alright, poppet?” Harry’s gruff voice coos in my ear, strained for his climax but more concerned for my well-being.

“Y-Yeah. Keep going.” I grind my teeth together quietly, the engrossing desire I am feeling for Harry overpowering the gnawing agony of being too tight.

Harry takes in a stuttered breath, pulling back and then thrusting forward again. He sets a slow pace, rolling his hips into me with a steady rhythm. The pain fades into a mild discomfort that I can deal with so I concentrate on his touch instead.

He’s running his nose up and down the back of my neck, comforting me in the best way possible. I’m thankful for the arm he has snaked across my abdomen because it is not only what is helping him pump into me, but it also manages to keep me from falling onto my stomach.

“Nice and slow, like I said.” Harry grunts into my neck, pressing his lips to my jaw as he continues rocking into my sex.

I feel him shift, making me guess he’s going to change tactics. He maintains the constant rhythm, but his thrusting becomes deeper and harder. It’s almost as if he’s slamming himself into me, but the feeling it irrupts is incredibly unexplainable.

“O-Oh my fucking–agh!” Broken gasps escape my throat, trying to voice out just how utterly breathtaking this new sensation is.

“My baby girl likes it like this, doesn’t she? You like it hard and slow?” Harry murmurs, his grip across my hips tightening more so he can keep me elevated as he rams into me.

I let out a quiet whimper of agreement, my fingers fumbling back to tangle in his sweaty curls, clawing at his shoulders until I find the hair at the nape of his neck. I pull forward so his head tilts down, his lips smashing into mine.

“Ugh, fucking hell…That’s it, darling, that’s it. So bloody tight for Daddy, huh? My pretty little angel is so tight for me– so ready for me to fuck.” Harry groans out, biting down on my lower lip and making me mewl in answer. He grins deviously into the kiss, whispering the next part as if it were a secret just between me and him that nobody else was allowed to overhear. “My little angel isn’t so innocent anymore, is she? You were practically begging for me to fuck you. Guess I’m gonna have to take away that halo and ground you for being so naughty.”

A smile similar to his spreads across my face as I give his hair another rough pull. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to punish me.”

“We’ll save that for next time.” He chuckles, and then his body suddenly begins to convulse. The knowing smirk is wiped clean off his face, his brows furrowing and face twisting in an expression of absolute untamable rapture.

“Faster.” I breathe, arching my back into his chest to emphasis my point. “I want you to come, Harry. Faster.”

His head bobs up and down in what I think to be a nod and he starts to thrust faster, one hand reaching up inbetween the bars of the headboard to press flat against the wall. What he’s doing clicks in my mind and I copy his actions, extending both of my arms so that both my hands press against one of the walls of the large hotel room, the painted barrier being cool to the touch despite the heated confrontation that was happening a few inches away.

The bed begins to creak, pushing forward because of how hard we’re going, but our combined efforts against the wall manage to keep it from slamming into it. Wouldn’t want any extra bills due to scrapes in the walls.

Harry’s hand moves towards my own and he lets his fingers sift inbetween mine, giving them a thankful squeeze.

“I’m c-close.” He growls, the nails of the hand he has across my hips digging into my pelvis.

My own release doesn’t seem to be too close but I give him a small nod anyways, heaving a short sigh. I already had one orgasm for today while he’s had none so I’m not going to make him wait for me but rather do everything it takes for him to get his.

I rut my body back against his own, bucking my hips back and forth to meet his thrust, the long moan that draws from his throat being enough proof that I’m doing something right.

“I want to feel you come inside me, Harry. Please.”

“I-I am. I just–” His words stop mid-sentence and I feel the muscles along his chest contract against my back, his grip on me becoming almost painful.

His thrusts become rougher, his eyes snapping closed. His words stutter along with each thrust, all of his energy seeming to leave him in intervals. “Oh–fuck–yeah. Take it–all–baby. Take–it–all.”

I feel him sputter into me, three ribbons of his release splattering against my walls. I take deep breathes, trying to recover even though I hadn’t been the one to come completely undone.

“Ooooh…” Harry slowly pulls out, collapsing in a tired heap onto the pillows next to me. He blinks a few times, the cloudy haze dissipating from his eyes.

I myself slump forward onto the sheets, breathing hard despite barely doing any of the work. Harry is trying to regain his composure as he runs a hand repeatedly through his messy tuffs of hair, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down and his chest rising and falling slowly.

After he seems to come back to his senses, his head lulls to the side to face me, the corner of his lips tilting up in a satisfied smile. “Y/N, that was fucking incredible– you’re fucking incredible.“

I return his sweet smile, leaning towards him to plant a soft kiss atop his nose. “It was all you, Styles.”

He grins, tapping his chin as if he were in thought and then nods his head several times. “You’re right– I’m the one who’s incredible. You’re just a humping post.”

I reach over and conk him once on the head, telling him he’s a dick.

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “I have a dick, yes, but in no dimension do I look like one.”

“You might not look like one but it doesn’t mean you can’t be one personality-wise.” I jab playfully, poking a finger into his hard chest.

He turns his body towards me, propping his chin on the palm of his hand and raising an eyebrow. “Guess that’s not a problem. I mean, a few minutes ago you were begging this dick to fuck you. Guess my dickieness is working out pretty well for me.”

“‘Dickieness?’ Is that even a word?” I laugh, rolling my eyes but not being able to fight the loving smile that seems to be permanently etched onto my lips.

“It is now.”

“Whatever you say, Your Great Dickness.”

“Well, would you look at this. It’s about to work its magic one more time…” He wiggles his eyebrows childishly, leaning in and pressing his swollen lips over mine in a gentle, heart-fluttering kiss.

“I love you, baby.” Harry mumbles against my lips, scooting closer to me so that he tangles his legs with mine.

I pull back, running my index finger along his Cupid’s bow and following the curve of his lower lip, watching as his eyes glitter with affection. “Love you, too, prick.”

He chuckles, pulling me into his chest and setting his cheek against the top of my head. I take one of his humongous hands into mine, playing with his fingers.

“How was tour?” I ask quietly, glancing up at him from picking at the edge of one of his nails.

“It was great. The fans are as amazing as ever and the places we went to were sick…but I don’t think anything could compare to the absolute rush of happiness I got when I laid eyes on you today. I can’t believe the boys set this up. How they convinced management to let you come along for the next leg of the tour is beyond me.” He chuckles, taking my hand and pressing his lips delicately to the back of my knuckles.

A sudden rush of skepticism washes over me and my insecurities surface.

Harry had just said I was better than his entire dream– better than everything he’s wanted ever since he was a child. That can’t possibly be the truth.

“I honestly don’t think I could be better than all of that stuff, Harry. This career– the traveling, the fans, the music– this is what you’ve always wanted. You don’t really need me.” I smile sheepishly, knowing that Harry could easily find someone better than me in the blink of an eye.

He suddenly jerks up, his eyebrows furrowing, a disapproving frown taking up his features. “You’re kidding me, right?”

I shake my head, staring down at my hands. “Harry, I’m nothing compared to what you have.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Harry asks, his face contorted into an expression of sheer disbelief.

Harry hates it when I admit something like this. He hates seeing the people he cares about think so down about themselves, but how is it my fault that I just am who I am? I know for a fact I’m not that big of a deal in Harry’s life–he could do so much better, but for some strange reason, he’d settled for me. I’m just stating the facts.

“Harry, you know it’s the tru–”

“No! That’s not the truth, Y/N! Yeah, everything I have is an absolute blessing, but it could never compare to you. My career is one of the most important things in my life, but it will never get close to how important you are to me, darling. I would give it up– all of it– if it came down to picking one or the other. We’ve been friends since we were in grade school, Y/N. You’ve been with me through all of this, from my worst dead-ends to my best awards, you’ve been here for it all. Remember when the boys and I lost The X-Factor and I wanted to drop out of the band but you wouldn’t let me? My success in life is literally because you kicked some sense into my sixteen-year-old pessimist ass. You were the one that shoved me out the door and made me continue pursuing my dream. Y/N, you are the reason I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Hearing him defending me and how passionate he is over making me feel important stirs up my emotions, making tears start to slide down my face.

Harry cups my cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. He tilts my head back, making me look directly into his eyes– the jade eyes that I’ve known for almost my entire life. The jade eyes that have held everything from anger and sadness to elation and gratefulness with me in mind. The jade eyes that, about two years ago, confessed that he shared the same feelings I had for him. The jade eyes that gave me my very first “I love you” a few months back under a moonlight picnic he’d stayed up late planning as my birthday gift. The same jade eyes that now stare down at me, glinting with love and adoration as he presses a kiss to my cheek.

“Y/N, I want you to know that whenever I’m away from you, I feel like a part of me is missing. And as cliché and cheesy as it sounds, everytime I leave, a piece of my heart stays with you because I don’t have the one person that I owe my dream to next to me, living it with me. Whenever I leave you, it’s like…like…” Harry fumbles for the correct words, not knowing what statement to fit in to tell me how much I really mean to him. He lifts his head, his eyes shimmering in realization as what seems to be the perfect explanation surfaces in his mind.

“When I leave you, it’s like being locked out of heaven. I’m standing there, so close to the one thing that makes me the happiest I could ever be, but it’s torn away from me– it’s put away for another time. And when I finally get to see you, I realize all over again that I’ve been locked out for too long. I want to be with you everyday and it pains me– it pains me so much to see how you think of yourself as something minor in my life. Angel, you–” Harry tucks his index finger under my chin, lifting my nose to brush against his. “– are my everything.”

I sit there, cast into what seems to be a deep trance of awe at what Harry has just told me. I let the tears flow freely, overwhelmed with pure blessedness as what Harry had said really sinks in. I throw my arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder as he cradles me into his lap, pressing tender kisses all over my face.

“You’re still a dick for making me cry.” I say, laughing inbetween sobs.

“I can live with that.” Harry gives me a lob-sided half-grin, pulling me farther into his treasured embrace.

We sit there wrapped in the duvet, time seeming frozen as we cuddle, listening to Harry tell funny stories about his tour bus experiences.

He suddenly stops mid-sentence, half-way through a story about how he and Niall had switched Liam’s toothpaste with lube.

“What?” I ask, lifting my head up from the crook of his neck.

“Did you come the second time?”

I burst out laughing, the question seeming utterly unexpected and comically irrelevant, but Harry doesn’t even crack a grin.

I sigh, still fighting a smile. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me?!” His outburst makes me jump, falling off his lap and face-first into the pillows. I flip onto my back, propping myself up onto my elbows and turning my head to look at him.

“Because it really wasn’t important. I came when you ate me out and you came when you nearly fucked me into oblivion. Fair trade.” I answer, shrugging my shoulders to show how little interest I have in the subject.

“Yeah, but I said I’d make you come again. I promised.” He retorts, shifting closer to me and softly pushing me onto my back.

“Harry, you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do. Plus, having you sitting in my lap naked kinda got me horny again so this’ll help me take care of that.” He points down to a subtle bulge in his briefs, throwing me a bright smile.

I decide that fighting him on this is useless so I relax instead, watching patiently as reaches over me to the nightstand next to the bed.

Harry rummages through the cabinet, pulling out a deep-shaded red-colored box with a shimmery plum-tinted ribbon tied around it. He tosses the box to where it lands a few inches away from my left leg.

“What is this?” I wonder outloud, reaching over to pick up the box.

“Don’t look inside! It’s a surprise.” He calls out over his shoulder, apparently struggling to get the cabinet closed. With a final shove, he gets it shut, immediately snatching the box from my hands.

“It’s a little present I got you so you have something to settle your cravings when I’m away.” He slowly undoes the ribbon, lifting the lid off to reveal what lies behind it.

Inside, the box is padded with tissue paper that matches the ribbon and in the middle lies a long, metal rod-looking item. Harry picks it up, showing off a few buttons on the underside of the item. He clicks one and a distinct humming fills the room.

“It’s a vibrator.” I conclude, watching as the metal vibrates against the palm of his hand.

He gives me a sly grin, sliding the box father away from where we sit until it falls off the edge of the bed. “That it is. I tried to find the one closest to my size but it’s a little hard being Harry Styles and trying to acquire a dildo without letting the entire world find out.”

“And how did you accomplish such a daring task?” I laugh at him, genuinely curious of the extents he had to go through to get the fake cock.

“I told Ben to get it for me. Better he get caught by his mum than me getting caught by the press.”

“Clever boy.” I nod, ruffling his hair. “Points for brains.”

“I thought–” He starts, leaning down to press kisses up along the side of my knees, trailing up to the inside of my thighs. He taps my upper leg, telling me to spread my legs. “–we might give it a try. You know, just to make sure it functions properly.”

Harry drags the cold vibrating machine up against my inner thigh, his lips now planting soft suckling kisses all around my crotch. He blows lightly, looking up at me through his lashes.

I hadn’t realized how impeccably hot Harry looked right now, kneeling inbetween my legs with his curls falling apart from the quiff Lou had styled them in earlier, his tattoos becoming more prominent against his tanned skin now that I was gazing at every detail of his bare body. He has a few scratch marks on his shoulders from when I’d scrambled to grab his hair, the minuscule injury somehow making him look even sexier.

I meet his eyes, an impish gleam washing across the bright green around his pupils. “So what do you say?”

I return his grin, sinking down further into the pillows and making myself comfortable. I spread my legs open wider, giving him full access.

“Let’s see if this toy is as good as the original.” _____________________

A/N: Helllllooo!!! Thank you guys for reading my imagine! I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry for any typos! As always, all the loooovvveee! xxx

– Andrea ☻

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

During sex harry choking you and he's doing you so good you're in tears.

tag yourself i’m the tears

Harry really would be doing so well.

He’d be fucking you from behind, sitting back on his heels on the bed, surrounded in messy sheets, having you on his cock with your clammy back pressed to his sweaty chest. Your legs are tucked against his own calves and you use them as a reinforcement to help you bounce against him, the sound of slapping skin and breathy moans scattering around the atmosphere of the room.

Harry’s prick is slicking into you nice and hard and you can feel the tight muscles of his chest pressed against your back, flexing with every move. He has one hand in between your thighs, toying at your clit to intensify the pleasure. He’s pinching and flicking and alternating between wide, slow circles with the entirety of his hand as well as quick back and forth movements with his two middle fingers, slapping your folds every now and then to gain a cracked yelp from your throat.

Harry’s other arm had been tucked underneath your arms and across the underside of your chest in order to keep you from falling forward, but now he moves it to lay diagonally across your chest, large hand coming up to your neck.

His long fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly at first– not too tight, but snug enough that your inhales stutter.

“Y'like this?” His voice is deep and throaty, warm air puffing against the sensitive shell of your ear as he jerks his hips up at a brutal pace. “Like to be choked, now, do you?”

You nod furiously, whimpering in his glistening arms, hands reaching up to tug at his mussed up hair because you need something to hold onto, if not your sanity.

You can feel his smile against the top of your ear. Can feel it trail down the curve following down the back of your head and down the slope of your shoulder. His hot lips makes your blood boil, the notion of him filling you up til the brink overwhelming your senses.

Harry stops playing with your clit, bringing his wet fingers up to your abdomen and ghosting his short nails over it temptingly, the feathery motion causing your stomach to instinctually tighten. “Can y'feel me here, baby? All the way in your tummy?”

“Y-Yeah,” you croak out shakily, entire body quaking with unharnessed arousal and anticipation.

“And here?” He tightens his hold on your throat, the coldness of his metal rings biting into your skin and causing your breathing to hitch for what feels like an eternity. Being constricted only amplifies your neediness.

After you give a short nod, he proceeds to brushing his nose up and down the curve of your shoulder, tracing up your neck and licking at the tiny junction just behind the curve of your jaw. You’re eyes roll back without consent as you squeak out a satisfied whine.

“Such a naughty little thing. Kinky, too. Y'like me here,” Harry thumbs over your belly button, “here,” he presses your neck back against his collarbone so that your head is forced to fall back on his shoulder.

“And here,” a quick slap is placed on your clit, to which your body reacts to by thrashing against his hold, which in return earns you a tighter grip on your juglar. He thumbs over the teeny bulb rapidly, teeth sinking into your ear lobe as he swivels his hips up into you, nails digging marks into the skin along your throat.

Harry’s hair is tickling the underside of your jaw as he trails his lips down to the dip where your neck and shoulder part ways, pooling light kisses there as his hold on your windpipe goes into more dangerous territory.

But you’re absolutely living for it. Living for the flashes of red and blue that thrum at the back of your skull. For the webs of bright yellow and orange that spider across your shut eyelids. For the panicky, enclosed feeling that sets fire to your lungs and makes your fingers go numb. But especially living for the way your entire body tingles as adrenaline surges through every crevice in your bones, sending a buzzing sensation down to your center that has your mind spinning in circles. Tears of desperation smear out of the corners of your eyes, the sensory overload being simply too much to handle.

The feeling is amazing. The only other thing that beats it is when Harry starts to buck harder into you, bouncing on the balls of his feet faster as he feels you tightening around him while also pulling you down roughly to meet his thrusts.

His words spread smoky tendrils across your hypersensitive skin, the pleasure he’s feeding into from everywhere taking over your being completely. But it’s his thoughts and actions, murmured quietly against your moist jaw as he rubs his light scruff against your cheek, that have you begging for mercy. He addresses you with a smug smirk, bringing to his mouth the thumb that was on your clit, licking the glistening digit slowly and holding full eye contact. His irises sparkle with pride as he releases his finger with a wet pop.

“Can’t wait to make you choke on my cock instead.”

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Harry pressing you up against a wall with his hands down your pants making you beg to come

Let’s say he’s been in a mood all day. Kinda cocky and assholey, knowing he looks good in his new Gucci sweater with his hair fluffed to perfection, sporting a new set of rings across his long fingers.

And so he just straight up rams you against the nearest wall a few minutes before you both have to catch his private plane for LA, pinning you against the hotel’s olive green wall. He pops the button on your jeans, rough tongue claiming the skin of your suddenly-flushed neck as he shoves his fist down your pants and under your cherry-printed panties, cupping you harshly with his rings cold against the bud of your clit.

You’re gripping onto his flexing arm and trying to push his intoxicating mouth away from you, telling him that’s there’s not enough time, but he’s hell-bent on proving you wrong.

He smirks as he trails his hot lips up your jaw to your own, the breath of his words ghosting over you. “There’s always enough time, sweetheart.”

Then he’s forcing his tongue into your mouth, your cheeks immediately stinging red at the intrusion, and he’s making you swallow his loud moans, loving how he can taste the faint flavor of the vanilla chai coffee you’d been having but minutes before. His other hand is clutching your neck, thumb pressed up against the underside of your jaw to keep you propped against his mouth, refusing to let this moment go. “God, you’re so fuckin’ hot. Can make you come quick, I swear. Just beg fo’ it, yeah? Need to know you want it.”

You start to protest because this is stupid and irresponsible and you don’t feel like begging when it he who started it, so you keep trying to push him off as you roll your eyes and grumble.

Harry shakes his head, biting down hard so that your bottom lip swells, a gasp stringing your vocal chords at the pain as well as at the feeling of him teasing his two middle fingers into your tight hole, palming your clit messily. “I don’t think so, pet. Go on.”

“Harry, stop being ridicul–”

He shoves the digits up all the way to his knuckles, rings pinching at your warmness and causing spikes of pleasure to surge up through your veins. Your back arches against the wall, shaky squeak wisping out from your dry throat. “Harry, please…”

He grins with amused satisfaction, tilting his head to cast a nonchalant glance at his expensive gold watch. “You’ve got five minutes before the driver’s here. Now lemme hear that pretty little mouth beg for Daddy, yeah?”

[jarofstyles]

Oh ohhhhh friends to lovers pleaseeeee

6. "I wanna take you so fucking bad."

OHHHHH YES

Patreon

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Harry really wasn't sure how he ended up here.

It was a scenario from his dreams, ones he'd never admitted to having to anyone else before, but he didn't know how he'd even gotten into this position with his best friend. Wine night had gotten out of hand, some sort of something had been said and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Y/N and wine stained lips pressed against his own.

Her pajama pants were pulled tight on her ass, his hands unable to keep the temptation of it away from his brain. Rocking on top of him, she whimpered softly as his lips pressed to her hot throat. The layers between them felt flimsy and he could feel how hot she was for him. His best friend of 5 years, rolling her hips and holding his face against her sweet spot on her neck.

"H-Harry..." She breathed, tugging softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "It feels so good... Why does it feel so good?" Her slow grind against his prick made him roll his eyes back into his head. It was childish, something he hadn't done in years, but it felt better than his last year of hookups combined. "Why didn't we do this before?"

Y/N always asked the real questions.

"Dunno... Should have." His fingertips pressed into the curve of her ass, the hot skin exposed from her shorts moving up. "God...You smell amazing." It was the little things like that. Teeth nipping her throat and being engulfed in her, realizing just how much he gravitated towards certain candles because they smelled like her. His brain always knew, was always plotting this even if he was trying his hardest not to. "I wanna take you so fucking bad." The voice that came from his throat was unfamiliar to him, wrecked and desperate. "But I can't. Not now."

"No... Please." She begged, pulling him from her neck to look at him. "Please, H. I need it so bad, I can't... I can't stop." He could see it in her face. She meant it. Y/N really wanted him to take her, and god knew his cock was desperate to sink into her hot cunt, get deep inside, stay there. Milk every drop of cum her had inside of her. But not like this.

"Can't... Not when we've been drinking." He frowned. "M'not gonna stop this.... Gonna let you rub yourself on my cock and let you cum. Not that cruel." He squeezed over her ass harder to get that pretty whimper from her mouth. "But I can't do it like this. You deserve more. If I'm going to fuck you... M'gonna do it right." He breathed, connecting their lips again. She tasted so sweet, the tiniest hint of sour from the drinks but it only added to it.

"How?" She whined. "How are you going to fuck me?"

It shouldn't have been so easy for him to spill, but it was. "Need you on a bed. Not my couch." He started, deciding to let his hands slip under her shorts and feel the full warmth of her skin against his. "Strip you down, get to see how gorgeous you are. I know it's gonna ruin me, sweetheart." No lies were told. They wouldn't be able to come back from that. "Kiss down your body... Gonna make little marks for you to remember me by. On your perfect tits, that stomach, those gorgeous thighs... Everywhere I can." His hands aided her rocking, shifting her just so and getting the gasp he'd desperately wanted from her. The thin shorts and his sleep pants were barely layers and he knew this would be the way to get her clit the way she needed.

"Then I'm going to split those thighs open and kiss you down there. Lick you up. Start slow and tease you a little, make you beg for me just like you did before... But then I'll give it to you. Suck on that clit until you can't take it and push my head away, make you cum on my tongue and stretch you out with my fingers. Know you're going to be a sopping fucking mess. Gonna want it all over my face."

"Fuck." Y/N keened, gripping his hair tighter. The action alone made his prick twitch in his poor excuse of pants, feeling the heat of her cunt bleed through and warm him up. Soon enough she'd soak those shorts and he'd be able to feel it make a mess of him. "What else?"

"Greedy thing, aren't you?" He chuckled. "mm.. Want to feel that mouth wrapped around my cock. Dreamt of it so many times but... Think I want our first time to be about you. Dunno how long I'd last with it." The mere idea of her sucking him off had been the subject of many wanks and he knew it would take an embarrassingly short amount of time to orgasm. "So instead, I'd spread you open and take you. I'd want to take you on your back at first- need to see the look on that perfect face while my cock stretches that cunt open." He groaned at the mere thought. "But I think we'd switch around a bit." One hand slipped out of the back of her shorts to go up her shirt instead. The hot skin of her back warmed his palm as he dragged it up and down.

"I'd love t'take you just like this. Watch you bounce on me, make a mess of my lap. Have your tits in my face..." He let his hand graze the side of one, making her shiver. "Suck on them. Make them wet and swollen for me, just like your cunt. But you'd get tired, hm pretty girl? Bouncing up and down like that, gonna make your legs burn... So I'd flip you over and get you on your knees..." His voice was muffled for a moment as she kissed him again with her sugary mouth. "I'd get you on your knees and watch you take me. See your ass move and hit my thighs... How you'd arch your back for me. I think that would be perfect." His hand kneaded her ass, spreading it a bit roughly as she gave him another pretty gasp. Her eyes were bleary and soft as she looked down at him, heat behind the gaze as she rutted on top of him.

"Would you do it hard?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "Would you spank me?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in shock at the question, but it shouldn't have. Of fucking course she was perfect for him. There was no way around it. "Yeah, I would. I'd go at the pace you want... and you're obviously a filthy thing. Had no clue you wanted something like that, but I'd give it to you." he pulled her back down to his lips, slipping his hand out of her shirt to give a light slap to her ass before rubbing over the area to soothe. It wasn't the hardest he could have gone but it was testing the waters. "Like that?"

When she shook her head, he couldn't help but smile. "Harder?" He repeated the action, harder this time. It made her jolt, the stinging skin getting a whimper as she nodded against him. "Fuck me... You're what I needed all along, aren't you? Been under my nose the whole fucking time."

[1d1195]

Honey

Harry doesn't love anyone beyond his baby girl, his company, and his family.

But when the sweet girl that adores his baby like her own infiltrates his every thought, Harry's wondering if he should make an exception.

Part I

Part II

Coming soon:

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

[ihearthes]

“At one point, the producer and the co-writer Kid Harpoon goes “Let’s do this old school move and we’ll do blah blah blah blah” and Harry said “No… let’s do the most modern tech thing we can possibly do because tape and analog was just the best system they had in the day, so let’s go with the best system we have today and just make it about the melodies.” Which I thought was really great because he was kinda smart enough to know… let’s use all the tools that we have to kinda make it a melodic thing, not necessarily an airless, pop/dance thing but let’s embrace the new tech doing old school love of melody, and I thought that was so smart of him. And that’s kinda what the album is. It really comes from him and he’s a music geek in the greatest way.”

— Cameron Crowe (via thedailystyles)

[ohstylesno]

I JUST 😍

[harrycloseups]

[fkazain-deactivated20151116]

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