A/N: Here comes the Smut ;)
“What?” your entire body lurched upright at the sound of your name. You could hardly see thanks to the blinding sunlight streaming in through the unfamiliar window. You hardly remembered what the hotel you were staying in looked like you’d been so inebriated the night before.
“Alarm!” The same voice that had woken you from your slumber called from beyond the closed door. Oh. It was only then you noticed Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin was playing very loudly. At first, it had worked great as an alarm but you’d grown used to it and could sleep through it like a pro now.
The voice that had called for you to turn it off must’ve been one of your bandmates. According to your phone, it was already 10:30 am so you might as well start your day. You stretched and moved to get out of bed after turning it off only to find you are, in fact, stark naked.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
You hurriedly grab your robe you’d hung on the bathroom door and wrap it around you. You were scared to look in the mirror and see hickies or some indication of promiscuity from the night before. You had nothing against sleeping around, but considering you’d still only ever slept with someone once, you weren’t usually bold enough to sleep with a stranger. Which only means that if you did, in fact, have sex last night it was with someone you knew.
The last thing you can remember is Harry singing along with George Harrison’s voice as you cried into his chest. Like the emotionally unstable psycho you are! your brain added.
You ripped the metaphorical bandage off and took a glance at yourself in the bathroom mirror only to find no evidence that anyone had touched you the night before. You also didn’t feel sore other than a slight headache. Considering you hardly ate, it took nothing for you to get drunk so hangovers were never really an issue for you.
You feel like you’d know if something had happened the night before. It had been a hot minute since the one and only time you’d had sex before. The only obvious differences in your appearance seems to be the absent of the makeup you’d worn the night before and your clothing. Had Harry taken off your makeup for you? Your chest contracted at the thought of him taking the time to play caretaker to drunk you.
Then you remember the way he’d kissed Kendall the night before, and remind yourself that despite the Game Night events, you were only friends. And that was all you’d ever probably get out with him. You needed to place your mental emphasis on the fact that you had him in your life at all and be grateful for that. There was no point in stringing yourself along on the hopes that one day he’d fall in love with you and the two of you would live some kind of happily ever after. Your life was far from a movie and you were far too old to be entertaining such fantasties anymore.
Harry watched you slip out of the green room with a heavy heart. You were like no one he’d ever met before. Last night, with all of your drunken ramblings and your little hands grabbing at his hair, calling him pretty. You had laid with your head in his lap for hours, going on about everything from George Harrison to the inherent good or evil of human nature.
He’d gazed at you adoringly, laughing the night away while the party died downstairs. He’d left Kendall alone but he wasn’t worried about her, she knew he didn’t love her. It was purely a publicity stunt, as always.
Harry shouldn’t love y/n. He knows this. Columbia records was considering signing a deal with your band, a major one that would launch your group even further into music stardom. You’d only released one album, and already had a huge fan base. Harry’s opinion the matter was of great value to the record label, and he’d been given specific instructions not to go and “make any unprofessional or romantic connections with the three of those girls.”
Harry had agreed to those terms, but that was before he knew you.
The first time you stepped into the pre-tour production meeting room he thought he was going to vomit. You’d all stumbled in late, being scolded by your manager, John. You hadn’t noticed Harry was even in the room.
You were slightly shorter than average, with all of the right curves and long, golden hair down to your waist. You donned an old Ben Folds Five tshirt and high waisted denim. You couldn’t seem to keep your hair out of your face. Your bandmates looked pained every five seconds as you whispered what was clearly absolute nonsense into their ears throughout the meeting. The way your eyes sparkled with mischeif, your unabashed goofiness nearly smacked him out of his chair. You were nothing like what he expected when he’d been told he’d be touring with an all girl band. You were the most alive thing in the room.
He knew why you were upset. It was because Kendall was wrapped around him like a fucking sloth after tonight’s show in Cleveland.
His feet didn’t consult with his mind before he found himself following your fleeting figure.
You stopped dead in your tracks, refusing to look back at him.
“What is it, Harry?” Your sweet voice was a bit hoarse.
“Where are you going?” Harry’s voice was small, reminding you of your younger brothers back at home. You felt the cold armor you’d wrapped around your heart bend a little.
“To bed.” You responded simply.
“Listen, Kendall and I...it’s not—“
“Harry I didn’t ask. You don’t know me an explanation.”
“I do, though. What happened after game night—“
“—doesn’t need to be talked about it again. I’ve already erased it from my mind. Your secret is safe.”
“Secret? Y/n what the hell are you going on about?” Harry’s voice broke a bit, at that you finally turned to face him.
“I know you probably don’t want her to find out about that—or anyone to for that matter. It wasn’t very professional of us.” The shining of tears on your face took Harry by surprise, as you’d melt your words void of all emotion.
“Y/n I don’t give a shit about her!” Harry nearly yelled. “Well, no, I do care about her but not in that way.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Then why are you two making out every time I see you together? Harry, you’re not making me feel any better.”
“It’s a stunt. It’s for publicity. To keep the paps entertained.”
“I....y/n, these last few months we’ve spent...” Harry can feel himself getting choked up as he struggles to meet your eyes. When he does, you can see he’s fighting back tears and you don’t know what you expect him to say next. “I think—no. I know that I am in love with you.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat. The skin tight, bell bottom jumpsuit you’re wearing seems to be 100000x tighter than you remember it being a few hours ago.
“You don’t have to say it back, you don’t owe me anything, I—shit. Shit I’m sorry.” His chin is wobbling now and the world’s biggest rock star is falling apart right before your eyes. But in a second, your lips are on his before the first tear can fall.
His whole body caves into yours, pulling you closer then you think you’ve ever been held in all of your 22 years on this planet. Your hands find his hair as his lips move in sync with your own. They’re soft and sweet and suddenly the only language you know how to speak. He is clinging to you like a man starved, though you know he is anything but.
“I love you. I thought it was obvious already but, I’ll say it a million times if you need to hear it: I love you. I love you. I love you.” You day in between kisses. Harry pulls away slightly to meet your eyes and can feel himself going cold. “What?” Your brow furrows at his expression.
“I just never want to forget the way you’re looking at me now.”
Then your back is against some nearby wall and his lips are on yours again faster than you can register anything that’s happening. The kiss swells into something more urgent, more passionate than before as your tongues begin their dance. His hands are everywhere, and you forget where yours end and his hair begins.
His lips begin trailing to the underside of your jaw and a moan slips out before you can stop it. He groans a response, and you swear you can feel something hard pressing against your lower stomach. Harry’s entire body has caved into yours, you standing on your tippy toes to press yourself more firmly against his willow-y frame.
“Shit-shit. Harry, someone could see—“ it suddenly dawned on you that you’re just passionately making out with in the middle of the hallway.
“Oh—oh.” Harry’s brows furrow and you see a glint of hurt in his pretty green eyes. You gently cup his face.
“No, I don’t mean it like that!” You whisper yell the reassurance. “You know I’d love to be seen with you. I just, H....I’m insecure about this kind of stuff.”
Amusement paints a pretty smirk on Harry’s face.
“You mean....sex?” He teases and you swear you could wrap your hands around his throat and throttle him if you had another 5 inches of height and actually stood a chance.
“Yes, sex, now come on.” You mock his accent and tug him away from the wall, the two of you giggling like horny teenagers.
Within a minute Harry has you pressed up against the door of his private bus. He’s fumbling with the strange lock and kissing you like he’s dying at the same time. You’re floating.
Once the latch clicks into place, your feet leave the ground again and your laid against something soft. The warm lighting is hitting Harry in a sinful way—he looks like the color gold personified and he’s smiling at you like you’re the Sun. He towers over you and you’ve never felt smaller. You start to wrap your arms around yourself but he stops you.
“Just let me look at you for a sec, y/n/n.”
With one last heated look he dives back into you and you’re a mess of tangled limbs again. You can feel his hands ghost over your clothed breasts and his lips ghosting over your neck again.
“God, I can’t get enough of your neck. Ya’ve got tha prettiest neck ‘ve ever seen,” he groans with a grind of his clothed, hard cock into your own clothed heat. You’re making noises you’ve only ever made before that time after Game night. And you know you’re ready to give it all to Harry. Anything he wants from you you’re willing to give.
His hands roughly grope at your breasts and you nearly scream. He’s pulling his shirt off and unzipping the top of your jumpsuit before you can do it again. Harry sucks in a breath of air at the sight of your naked chest.
“God—those tits. Just like I imagined ‘em,” he says before taking a nipple in his mouth, suckling on you like some animal. You whimper under his attention and he stops briefly.
“Angel, is this alright?” Harry looks into your eyes and holds your gaze.
“Yes, yes. T-take what you want from me.” You nod vigorously and submit yourself to him. His response is a growl you feel travel straight down to your core.
He goes back to your breasts, leaving lovebites and growling out the occasional “mine.” His lips trail down to your hips, right above your pelvis as he shimmies the rest of your jumpsuit off your legs.
Then the warmth of his breath is on your pussy and a single kiss is pressed to the front of your lace panties.
You nod and gulp. At this point, Harry’s seen more of your body than anyone else has and seems to be enjoying it. The only other time you’d had sex all the lights had been off and there was next to know ForPlay.
“I’ve just never had someone—do that.” You offer you an explanation. Harry freezes.
“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He asks incredulously, his head poking up from between your thighs. “What the fuck, why?”
Your cheeks heat up and you suddenly can’t make eye contact with him. “Well my ex, he and I only ever did it one time and he just...didn’t.” Harry nearly chokes on his own breath.
“You’ve one ever had sex once?” his hands are gripping your thighs now and he’s subconsciously moving closer to your face.
“Y-yeah. God this is embarrassing.” Your hands cover your now red face and tears gather in your eyes, lower lip trembling. This is not a conversation you wanted to be having but you also didn’t want to lie to Harry.
He pulls his hands away from your face and nearly crumbles at the sight of your glassy eyes. “No, no. Why is that embarrassing? You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He coos softly, brushing away any tears that had fallen. You felt so small and seen in his embrace.
“Because I thought that maybe I was the problem? That something about me was ...off so he left me after we...you know.”
Harry audibly scoffed and cradled your face in his hands. “I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” His voice is gruff and honest. “There is no one I’d rather be with right now. And that idiot ex of yours is a fucking madman because you’re never getting rid of me after tonight.”
You kiss him and feel something in your chest ache in an almost foreign way. You didn’t know you could feel like this. He kisses you back harder and the heat between you builds again. His hand cups your lace covered pussy and rubs gently over your clit and you jolt. His lips trail back down to your heat and before you can register what is happening his nose is pressed against your mound and inhaling you like some meal. A growl resonated in his chest and he begins tugging your underwear down your legs.
His tongue delves into your folds gently, teasingly. He finds his way to your clit and then sucks the breath from your lungs. You go pigeon toed and nearly scream at his assault on your most private area. You’re making noises that feel foreign as they leave your mouth but Harry laps them up along with your heat. He’s growling and letting out little sweet comments about how good you taste and you don’t know how you’re going to ever look at him without blushing again.
“H, H I’m close,” you whine out, little body shaking under the weight of his arms holding your torso down. Your hips are bucking up wildly but Harry is comepletely unbothered, giving no indication that he’d heard you at all. It isn’t until he sucks un your clit with a new vigor that he makes his intentions clear.
You’re screaming, toes curling, his name falling from your lips so loudly you’re sure everyone in the stadium can hear you. You’re fucked and you don’t even care, Harry’s cooing in your ear as tears fall from your eyes, descending from your high. He pulls your body into his and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you come back to reality.
“Are ye alright, angel? We could just go to sleep?” Harry asks gently, warm breath in your ear.
“No, no. I want you. I’m just a little overwhelmed because no ones ever...he didn’t... make me you know.” Your face is heating up again.
“Why are you still talking about sex to me like we’re in middle school, y/n?” He laughs loudly. “I just spent the last 10 minutes face first in your pussy. You can say the word orgasm around me.”
You can’t help but laugh but also swing an arm around to sock him in the chest but he catches your hand and steals your breath with a kiss. His hands slide up the smooth expanse of your back and he straddles you, caging you to the end with his body.
You buck your hips into his, a hand snaking down to palm his rock hard member through his briefs. It feels, much larger than you anticipated. He growls and ruts against your hand like an animal.
“Please, Harry...” your eyes are hazy with desire as they meet his nearly blackened ones. He whips his briefs off and settles himself at your entrance.
“Are you sure? You’ll be stuck with me after this.” He half joked, looking into your eyes with a choking intensity.
“I’ve never been more sure. Please.”
He lets out a loud cry at the feeling of your heat around him and you’re whimpering uncontrollably at the intrusion. But you love it, God it hurts but you love it. Harry had not prepared himself for how tight you would be. It was like bedding a Virgin. Your ex must not have been well endowed, Harry thought.
Harry can’t believe how good you feel, and he’s never been particularly loud, but he’s crying out with every movement. You’re trembling beneath him, whimpering and yelping. Both of you just consumed with the other. You take his hand and place it around your throat, and his eyebrows shoot up in an expression of utter shock. He grips your throat in his hand and builds speed quickly. Milking his cock in your tight heat.
“You feel so fucking good. You’re mine now, mine.” He growls through clenched teeth as his hips snap into yours. You’re practically in tears.
“Yours. Yours yours yours.” His cock has reduced you to a weeping echo chamber.
When the two of you climax it is like the clash of a symphony and he collapses into your body, holding you closer to him than anyone’s held you before.
As you drift off in his arms, one nagging thought plagues you,
What the fuck were you going to tell your bandmates?
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