ROOMMATES
pairing: Roommate!Harry x Fem!Reader
summary: You and Harry live together, but with the huge amount of responsibilites you're lately carrying, he starts missing you (maybe more than he should)
word count: 2.7K
contains: FLUFF, teeny tiny bit of angst, roommates and best friends trope + little song reference (let’s see if you’ll find it)
a/n: My first writing, please be kind! Would be grateful for feedback, ideas, anything! My dms are opened always. Also HUGE THANKS to my beloved @this-is-tiny-mia, prof-read by the best one!
All my love, E
The sun had already dipped behind the horizon when you shut the door of your apartment. The rushing world was finally left behind for a second, giving you the much needed oasis of calm, a moment to breathe.
Muffled sounds of some British show made their presence as they seeped through the thin walls to the hallway, following by an unmistakable scent of Chinese takeout. A clear sign that your roommate, Harry, was home.
You kicked off your shoes quickly without a second thought, not bothering about each one being on the other side of the room or even putting them neatly by the front door, and made your way into the living room.
“Hey H, I’m home-“ You stopped in the mid of sentence, your breath hitching at the sight of your best friend’s half naked form lazily sprawled on the couch, his tattooed arm draped over his face to shield his eyes from the light and lips slightly parted, each steady breath turning into quiet snort and blending with low hum of the TV.
Judging by the mess of his hair, damp and unruly, he must have showered not too long ago.
Your expression softened instantly and without hesitation, you put your overstuffed bag with groceries and textbooks on the floor and grabbed a fluffy blanket from the armchair, carefully covering his bare chest to prevent his body from cold. In a hoarse baritone a small ‘thank you’ came out from his velvety lips as he snuggled into a pillow he’s been leaning on, mistaking it for you. You watched him for a few seconds before reaching for the remote beside him and switching the TV off. The room was instantly enveloped with darkness, only faint light came from the connected kitchen.
You grabbed an open bottle of wine from the coffee table, along with a full glass that seemed untouched since he’d poured it and you took a long sip, letting the maroon liquid warm your body in slow waves.
A quiet growl of your stomach reminded you how hungry you really were and within seconds you were heating up the Chinese food Harry had put aside for you - just like he always did.
Some nights, Harry stayed up and waited for you, just to make sure you arrived home safe. Other nights, like tonight, he wasn’t that successful. In these cases, he left you a sweet little note on the fridge or on a mirror in your bedroom and food on the kitchen counter.
“Mhm… Love, you’re home?”
You jumped in shock at the sound of Harry’s raspy voice, his hand rested lazily on your shoulder.
“Harry! You can’t sneak up on people like that- oh god…”
You gulped down the last drops of wine before setting the glass in the sink and turning your attention back to the timer on the microwave.
1 minute and 32 seconds left.
Harry shuffled behind you and leaned against the counter, making his presence known by clearing his throat.
“Umh, I was thinking if you’d want to come to the studio with me tomorrow. Or just you know… hang out. It’s been a while.”
It’s been ages.
Harry said softly, fidgeting with his hands in his lap and avoiding your gaze.
“H, you know I can’t. I have to finish the essay I told you about… And I have some other work too.”
A long sigh left your lips before you even get the words out and Harry’s eyes flickered up to meet yours instantly.
The thoughts of all the things you did and still had to do for school rushed through your mind, making you only nauseous again. The frown on your face only emphasized your feelings.
“No way you’re gonna spend another day buried in work. You need to rest…” Harry was quick to argue, not satisfied with your response at all.
The blanket he’s been wrapped in slipped from his shoulders and pooled around his feet on the cold wooden floor as he took a few steps closer, his hands finding home on your shoulders again, firm yet gentle.
“Harry…” You mumbled under your breath, cursing yourself for not just going straight to bed instead of letting this conversation happen.
“Don’t ‘Harry’ me!” he shot back, voice pitching higher in a dramatic imitation of yours. You only roll your eyes, refusing to let him know how eerily accurate it was.
“Your essay, work, the bachelor party - it all can wait a day or two. You need a break. I see it on you!” Harry pressed, his voice more stern.
“You won’t fool me with the little makeup you use to cover the dark circles under your eyes, those fake smiles and the many mugs of coffee you drink every day…”
You froze, your breath hitched at the confrontation. You didn’t expect him to pick up on every little detail. The extra time you spent in the bathroom every morning to cover the evidences of restless sleep. The bachelor party you’ve been planning for your close friend and mentioned just once or twice in passing.
You swallowed hard. “Uh… thanks?” Shaking his hands off your shoulders, they slowly fell down your arms, his fingers burning your skin as they stopped at your elbows.
“Ugh just… you’re not you.” His voice got quieter, softer even with each word and breath, speaking until his lungs stopped him and with his grip on your elbows tightening, he only emphasized each letter. Like if he was mentally preparing himself for saying something more - something final.
“And I miss you.”
You felt like you didn't hear him right, maybe not at all. He whispered it so quietly, it would be easy to miss it. Your head felt like spiraling and you weren’t sure where this conversation was coming from or even worse, coming to.
“What…?” You shook your head at his statement, a nervous laugh slipping out. “That’s- that doesn’t make sense. That’s silly”
You dropped your gaze down to your bare feet, your toes curling against the hardwood as you tried to ignore the way his stare could burn a hole through the crown of your head.
“We barely spend any time together. You’re always in school or work, and when you’re home, you’re studying. And I don’t care how crazy or desperate I sound right now, because in ten minutes, you’ll be in bed, and by the morning, you’ll be gone again to library! Please, love. I miss you. I miss us.”
Harry whispered the last three words like if they were the most precious thing in the world, barely audible, yet you both knew you heard them right - there was no space left between you now.
You shut your eyes tightly, trying to process the whole situation. He was right, of course he was. You couldn’t even remember the last time you two did something together, aside from the occasional late night dinners you ate in silence.
“You don’t miss it?”
His voice was raspy, heavy on emotions he’s been treasuring deep inside. His left hand delicately traced your arm up, like if he was touching a baby deer, while his right cupped your cheek gently.
You felt at loss for words. Of course you miss him too.
When your body collided with his, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and face buried in his bare chest, few moments haven passed. Silence. Heavy, defeating silence.
This time, Harry was the one caught off guard. But almost instantly, his arms encircled you, holding you close without hesitation and his lips were pressing soft kisses in my hair.
“Are you crying?” He murmured quietly before pulling back just slightly to see your face.
"No I'm not!" You lifted your head, chuckling as you gave him a sincere reassuring smile and without any more words said, you nestled back.
Harry’s heartbeat was frantic as yours and breath was uneven. You could feel his fingertips tracing slow, gentle patterns up and down your back, making you shiver.
It felt strange, but not unwelcome.
His hands kept moving subtly - up and down, up and down, lower and lower until they found their place on the curves of your ass.
You could feel your breath hitching at the sudden touch, and for a moment, it felt like the kitchen was losing oxygen. Like you forgot how to breathe.
But when Harry gave you a slight squeeze, suddenly every thought and worry from your mind disappeared. Your fists tightened around the fabric of his grey sweatpants, gripping his waistband so hard your hands started to ache.
Harry’s long fingers, decorated with a few silver and golden rings slid lower again, gripping the backs of your thighs. Instinctively, you tightened your hold on his upper body as he lifted you up with ease, securing you on the kitchen counter where your dinner had been just few minutes ago.
Harry stood between your parted legs, his fingers toyed with the loops on the waistband of your jeans, bringing you even closer to his body by them. Your eyes locked, holding each other’s gaze, unwavering, and didn’t look away even for a second.
"I don't wanna ruin this..."
"You won't"
Your hands slowly traced their way from his back, across his stomach, and up to his chest. Your left hand came to rest over his heart, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath your palm that quickened with every touch, matching the unsteady rise and fall of your own breath. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered shut.
Harry’s breathing grew heavier, louder. You felt it ghosting over your lips before his mouth finally found yours. But it wasn’t a kiss. Not yet.
Your lips brushed against his, barely touching, and yet he didn’t push for more. He just waited, patient, still, expecting you to pull away any second now.
He was ready for you to start screaming in his face, calling him crazy and stupid, demanding to know why in the hell he did it.
Ready for you to tell him this would only make your friendship complicated.
Ready to feel the sting of your palm against his stubbled cheek before you’d run off to your room, tears streaming down your face, slamming the door behind you as sobs would echo through the walls.
But none of that happened.
You didn’t yell at him. You didn’t run away. Your eyes stayed dry. The door remained untouched. No cries filled the space where your bed is.
And your hand didn’t meet his cheeks in anger. Instead, one rose slowly and with your fingertips grazed his skin before settling down. Soft, warm, careful.
The moment your hand made contact with his skin, he shivered. Not from cold, not from fear, but from the realization that every worst-case scenario running through his mind had just been proven wrong.
Harry opened up his mouth slightly and let himself drown in the slow movements of your lips, softer than he could ever imagine and with the hint of red wine. Your nose brushed against his one snuggly, taking in the scent of him before his hands moved from your waist up to your cheeks, cupping them in his palms in firm yet gentle grip.
You let out a quiet moan, not able to hold yourself back anymore, when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and started sucking on it lightly. The corners of both your mouths curled into small, knowing smiles at your reaction, soft giggles escaping between the shared kisses. Yet neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to. You need each other like flowers need the sun. His tongue traced over your lower lip again, a silent plea for more, and without hesitation you obliged him, slightly parting your lips.
With every second, every kiss, the craving for more grew stronger—his taste, his touch, his hands, the warmth of his body against yours. He was like an addiction. You couldn’t stop the quiet moans slipping from your mouth, your lips parted further as the kiss deepened, pulling you deeper into him.
“Harry-” you hummed against his mouth, but Harry was quick to shush you with whispers between soft pecks and kisses, his voice dancing on your tongue. “Shhh, darling.”
Another kiss, this time more hungrier, landed on your lips, it felt as if he was diving into you - exploring every part, every curve, everything you’re willing to give him and more, yet still it’s not enough. His curls, darker than the night surrounding you, tickled your forehead and burning red cheeks and you slid your hands up into his hair, brushing away a few stray locks before settling on the back of his neck.
A quiet moan escaped your lips as your mouths pull apart, but only slightly - your lips still brushing, foreheads resting together. The only sound in the overly quiet apartment was your heavy breathing, you were both struggling to steady and you had to blink a few times before your eyes found his. He slowly drifted his right hand down to your hip, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your jumper in an innocent manner. Harry thumbed your skin gently in slow circles, leaving hot touches behind and making you shiver. You both glanced down at his touch before your eyes met again and you tried from all the left strength put a few words together.
“Harry… I’m tired.” you mumbled quietly, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you bit down nervously.
“I know, darling. I know…” he murmured in an answer, tracing comforting circles on your skin in an attempt to calm down your racing mind.
“Take me to bed?” you whispered against his lips, your own pouty and voice barely more than a breath. Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, lashes brushing softly against your cheeks as a soft sigh escapes you. Though your body felt numb, your grip on his neck only tightened, desperate to be as close as possible to his bare chest.
It didn't took much, nothing at all, and you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck while his hands caressed your thighs in a firm hold, carrying you effortlessly as he made his way to the nearest bedroom.
“I meant my room…” You took note of your surroundings, realizing your body was sinking into his mattress. Harry just tsked at your quiet remark and sitted down on the edge of the bed as his gaze lingered on your body, still dressed in jeans and soft jumper.
“Lay with me, please.” Your quiet mumble echoed between the four walls securing you in safe and secure space and you buried your face in Harry’s pillow that smelled just like his cologne and a little scent of musk. Reaching out your arm to him on the empty and cold side of the bed, you pleaded for his presence in the sheets.
“Of course” Harry muttered and the sound of shuffling covers and the slight dip of the mattress beneath his muscle-covered body made you aware of him actually joining you. But for some reason, he wasn’t as close as you had hoped and a small frown tugged at your lips, drawing his attention fully to your face once more.
“Everything okay, love?” He asked, turning onto his right side to get a better view of you, though he still kept some distance between your bodies.
Had he already started regretting the kiss?
The lust and tension between you were undeniable and the electricity only grew as you slowly moved your hand toward his, your fingers hesitantly slipping through his. His breath, just like yours, hitched at the sudden touch. His palm felt warm against your skin, and you couldn’t help but notice how much bigger his hand was compared to yours.
“So, what are our plans for tomorrow?” You whispered, your lips still swollen from the kissing and your eyes slowly fluttered shut. Meanwhile, Harry brought your intertwined close to his face, pressing soft kisses to each of your knuckles.
“Anything but library, sweet one.” Harry murmured against the back of your hand, his gentle touch making you even weaker for him.
“Good night, Harry… And thank you.” The last words of the night left your lips before exhaustion embraced you fully. And Harry, he followed just a few minutes later - only after he was sure your sleep was peaceful. But with him, it always was peaceful.
summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st.
word count: 2.8k
reading time: 11 min
content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie).
a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!
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You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you’d told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he’d just commit to it ten times harder. And that’s precisely what he did with No Nut November.
He’d brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you’d off-handedly joked how you couldn’t believe you’d gone so long without sex like you’d grown accustomed to with Harry. He’d agreed, joking that he’d ‘implode’ without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn’t last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you’ve seen it before. His record was actually three days.
But still, if you think about it too hard, you’d realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You’ve been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you’ve not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry’s barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to.
While you have made your disdain for Harry’s unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he’s been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry’s bedside table.
Finally had the time to read this start to finish and by God. I'm so fucked up. This shit is hot as hell and I swear I've got a standing one way ticket to see Lucifer if my reaction to this is anything to go by.😈
a/n: new universe perhaps? dadrry with y/n and little miss daisy... love you, enjoy!
🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, the sweetest little girl you ever did see, dadrry (again, a warning of its own), one f bomb
🐇 pairing: dad/husbandrry x fem!reader
💐 wc: 1.2k
summary: the little princess is in a chatty mood, and more home videos are born.
“Hi mama,” Harry purrs, a soft rasp in his voice as he walks into their shared bedroom. “What’re you doin’ up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Little peanut over here decided to come run into the room ten minutes after her Daddy left for his run.” She smiles widely, a happy gleam in her eyes at the sight of Harry being home.
“Really? Well that jus’ won’t do. Had y’up until three last night, Mama. Y’need your sleep." A boyish grin graced Harry's features at the mention of the night prior, earning an eye roll from his wife. How ‘bout I come back in here after I shower and we have a lazy day in? Can keep baby bunny in here so if she wakes up I can take care of her, if y’want. Sounds good?” YN couldn’t lie and say she didn’t get distracted watching her husband pad around their large room, slowly pulling off his clothes while he gathered things for his shower. She didn’t even realize that he’d stopped talking and just stood on her side of the bed, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Helloooo, is there anyone home?”
A giggle sounded in the spacious area. “Sorry, baby. Just got distracted. What did you say?”
“Nothing at all, lovie. Wait up for me, yeah? Be back in twenty minutes, tops.” With that he placed a soft kiss onto her forehead, brushing back her hair that had gone awry in the time he’d been gone, and walked over to the connected bathroom.
While she scrolled on her phone to pass time, her sweet daughter had woken up. “Good morning, sweet Daisy.”
“Hi mommy,” A yawn cut off the tiny girl, her hands coming up to her face to knuckle her eyes. “Is Daddy home?”
YN was about to answer before she heard Harry’s soft voice ring in the air. “Hi Tiny!” Harry’s voice made their daughter perk up, sitting up slightly while still in the crook of her mothers arm. Clad in a pair of basketball shorts with a towel in his hand drying his hair, he wore a loud and bright smile proudly. “Good morning, baby!”
“Daddy!” She squealed, making grabby hands toward Harry who immediately threw the towel onto a nearby chair, walking over to the bed in record speed. Pulling back the covers, he hopped in with no hesitation, grabbing his little girl and placing her on his stomach. They were chest to chest, faces mere inches apart, giggles coming out of his daughter's lips when he pulled a few funny faces and crossed his eyes for the sole purpose of hearing her laugh.
Unbeknownst to the two of them, distracted in their own little world, YN was hiding her giggles behind her phone screen that was recording the two of them interacting. “Good mooooorning,” She started, introducing the start of a new home video. “Today is… August 4th, been off tour for a good while now, Daddy and Peanut decided to get their day started early.”
“Tha’s me! ‘M Peanut!” Daisy shrieked, her little three year old voice bellowed. A soft pout made it’s way onto Harry’s lips at the sound of her small voice. She was so fucking cute.
“Yeah bunny, y’are Peanut!” He grinned, kissing the top of her head that she’d dropped down on his chest, her face turned toward her mom.
“Where are we, little Bunny?” YN asked sweetly, reaching out to push a few unruly curls that had fallen into her daughter's face.
“Home!” She giggled.
“Which home, baby?” Harry said, lips still in her hair.
“The one with the water!” A cute drawl had made its way into her voice, unmistakably stolen from her father and his heavy accent.
“She means Italy, if these ever get posted… or leaked,” YN joked, knowing she’d probably release a few of these videos one day anyway. “Anyway, we’re in Italy, and we’re honestly having like… the time of our lives.”
“Mm,” Harry hummed in agreement. “Think this is one o’the most like, relaxing times we’ve had in Italy s’far.”
“Yeah!” Daisy agreed, not even fully knowing what her father was saying but agreeing nonetheless.
“Yeah, Bunny? Y’agree w’Daddy?” He smiled, pulling her from his chest to lay in the middle of him and his wife. Him and his tiny twin turned over at the same time, facing YN. Harry threw an arm over the two of them, hand coming over to rest on the slightly exposed skin of her thigh. She had on a large shirt that she’d thrifted from a random place in LA, nothing covering her lower half besides a pair of black cotton panties. The duvet came up to about her mid-thigh, which lay at Harry’s hip, and just covered Daisy’s calves.
“Yeah! Love Daddy! Daddy’s pretty– oh! But Mommy’s so pretty!” She babbled random things often, words coming together in a nonsensical stew.
“Oh, why thank you, sweet baby.” YN laughed, leaning forward to drop a kiss onto her daughter's forehead.
“Y’so sweet, little lady, aren’t ya?” Harry tickled the side of Daisy’s body, shrill giggles and loud laughter filling the air in a cast of yellow, the sun coming in through the blinds which accentuated their golden aura.
Wherever the little family went, love seemed to trail them in soft streaks of honeyed light.
“Sweets?” Their daughter perked up.
“Nonono, I said y’are sweet, baby, not sweets.” Harry tried to backtrack, but it was no use.
“Wan’ sweets! Sweets now, Daddy!” Both of her parents took a deep inhale, knowing that this was going to be an ordeal that lasted until noon, at best. They had a strict ‘no sugar before 12’ rule, one that Daisy was usually an angel to follow if she woke up at her normal time… which she hadn’t today. But the two of them also knew that Harry was basically a doormat for his daughter, and if she even asked in her sweet little voice, he would be persuaded without a word of detest.
“Oh God– Okay, we’re gonna say goodbye to the camera now before Daddy gets your sweets for you, okay?” YN said, sitting up and pulling up the covers to keep herself decent as she twisted her wrist for the camera to capture all three of them in frame.
“Bye bye! See y’later!” Daisy waved her tiny hand.
“Bye f’now, see y’soon!” Harry followed after her, sitting up as well and pulling his tiny girl into his lap.
“Byeeeeee!” YN giggled, leaning into Harry’s side when she felt his arm wrap around his waist.
She clicked her volume button to end the video, immediately going to her camera roll to watch it despite it being freshly recorded. She started the video on a low volume, a happy glow encasing her features. Harry watched on in awe, a blush covering his cheeks, love filling his eyes and making his eyes water slightly. He didn't ever believe he would get this-- get them.
“Sweets, Daddy?” Daisy giggled.
“Yeah, m’love, sweets.” And to absolutely no one's surprise, he caved. Harry stood from the bed, his hands underneath Daisy’s armpits as he hiked her up over his shoulder, her top half dangling from his body. Loud giggles and laughs filled the air as she lifted a hand to wave at her mom.
Can you write a blurb where y/n is pregnant and she and harry are at a family party or something and everyone keeps touching her bump and she’s very uncomfortable, and harry comforts her? Xx
as usual, i hated the ending for this but i hope you guys like it 🥲 let me know your thoughts and thanks for the request <33
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
GIF BY @whatsthereinthename
The world was going crazy over Harry Styles becoming a dad.
And the fact that the picture he posted on his Instagram to announce it gathered over 30m likes, making it the 10th most liked picture on the platform’s history proved it.
However, his millions of fans all over the world weren’t the only ones feeling absolutely ecstatic over his wife being pregnant with his first child, his family was also losing their minds over the news.
The Styles family loved YN to pieces, and not only Harry’s nuclear family consisting of his mom and sister, his extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins and even family friends had grown to love the girl over the years. So when Anne called up to invite them over for one of her famous get togethers, they were over the moon because they knew the couple would be there and they would catch a glimpse of a pregnant YN for the first time.
“You ready, love?” Harry said as he entered their shared bathroom where his wife was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.
“I am, just need to spray on some perfume and I’m good to go.” She said as she turned around to face her husband, and when Harry got a proper look at her his breath almost hitched in his throat.
She looked absolutely breathtaking with her navy blue sundress and the brand new bump that adorned her body.
Harry swore that he had never seen someone more beautiful.
“Look at you, darling.” Harry simply said, putting a hand on his chin, looking at her almost in disbelief.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” YN joked for a moment, battling her eyelashes at him.
“No, you’re just the most gorgeous woman on this earth.”
“And you’re a total sap, let’s go, I don’t want us to be late.”
The car ride to Anne’s house was nice, their favorite soft tunes and small talk filled the air until they got there, and before getting off the car, Harry took a moment to reassurance his wife about the evening.
“If you feel uncomfortable or want to rest let me know immediately, okay? I don’t want you or baby to be overwhelmed.”
She pecked his lips softly before speaking, “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”
They got off the car and we’re instantly met with Anne waiting for them by the door, a fond smile on her face at the sight of two of her favorite people.
“I’m so happy you made it,” she said as he hugged Harry first, “Darling! You’re absolutely glowing!” she hugged her daughter-in-law, gently caressing her bump.
“Thank you, Anne. It’s so good to see you.”
The three of them headed to the backyard where the rest of the guests were mingling, and once YN stepped foot all eyes were on her, complimenting how beautiful her bump looked.
“YN darling! Long time no see!” one of Harry’s aunts approached her, hugging her before placing a hand on her bump.
At this, she immediately tensed, not used to anyone aside from Harry touching her bump.
Harry noticed it and he placed a hand on her back protectively before speaking, “We’re going to sit down for a bit, the missus is a bit tired from the drive here.”
Once they were seated next to Gemma and her boyfriend Michal, YN squeezed Harry’s leg gently and gave him a soft smile, as a way to thank him for his previous action.
The evening went on smoothly, they ate Anne’s delicious food and engaged with family they haven’t seen in a while.
However, every time someone came close to YN, trying to touch her bump or just invade her personal space, she grew more and more uncomfortable.
“Your bump is getting so big!”
“Is the baby kicking yet?”
“I miss having a baby bump.”
Were some of the comments YN had heard all day long, and by the time another of Harry’s aunts tried to approach her, she had enough and quickly exited the backyard before she could reach her.
“Love? Are you okay? Saw you running away back there.”
Harry’s voice made its way to her ears, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, her back facing him.
“I’m okay, just needed a breather.” She said, her eyes closed and still not facing him.
“Hey,” Harry slowly approached her, standing next to her but not touching her, “Can you look at me please?”
YN slowly turned around, and once Harry saw her watery eyes with tears threatening to come out, he pulled her to his chest.
“What’s going on, love? What made you upset?”
YN took a few breaths before speaking, “I just, I’m not used to anyone but you touching my bump and being close to me, and your aunts have been all over me all evening and I guess I got overwhelmed,” she sniffed before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude to your family but these hormones are acting up.”
“It’s okay love, nothing to apologize for,” he pecked her forehead softly, “Do you want to get out of here, we can leave now.”
“No, we don’t have to leave,” YN interrupted him, “Can you just, stay next to me when we go out there? I feel safer when you’re close.”
Harry almost melted at her words, and she grabbed her chin and kissed her lips softly.
“Of course, my love. I’ll always make sure you and baby feel safe and comfortable.”
And with a final shared kiss, they headed out again, Harry staying by YN’s side the entire time, making sure she and his baby were always safe.
Summary : You are the Blacksmiths daughter and apprentice, in a secret relationship with one of the queens guardsman
Word Count : 2.4k
Authors note : pure smut really tbh. Not like accurate to actual knights and shit. Also not edited
Warnings : Smut. P n V unprotected sex. Hair pulling. Fem receiving oral. Soft dom Harry. She calls him sir, but I mean, he’s a knight. Secret relationship I guess.
You watch as your father holds the blade up to Sir Styles, his head bowed in respect. Styles takes the blade from him, fingers skimming along the edge. The metal of the razor sharp sword glimmering under the dancing light of the fire
“It’s perfect,” a genuine smile stretched across his lips. “Thank you,” he nods to your father.
“It was an honor Sir Styles,” Your father then presents the sheath for the sword. Intricate leather scenes carved into the brown treated leather. The blade falling to his side and his opposite hand coming up to the scabbard. Fingers dancing over the sorry, starting with a small figure in a Forrest accompanied by a small house. A small figure, the same figure, a top of a horse. The figure, bigger now, sword fighting another with a crooked broken sword. Then again fighting with the same sword a large beast. Then he stands tall, atop the now dead beast, weapon presented high above his head. The second to last, a knight, kneeling below a queen as she grants him his knighthood. The last, the night standing tall, gracefully, surrounded by those who adore him. His eyes track the story. Face unwavering. He looks up to your father.
“Wayland,” his voice filled with admonition. Your fathers head shakes. Hand slowly rising up, finger extended to point to you.
“My leather worker is quite grand isn’t she?” You smile at the comment. Waving to the two men across the shop. Sir Styles sheaths his new sword, slipping into his belt he crosses the expanse of the forge and up to you. Where you rest behind your station. Tools laid all around you. His reach extending for your hand, you place your palm slipping over his. His large hand dwarfing yours in his hold. Pressing a feathery kiss to your knuckles he nods to you.
“Thank you, for it is almost as beautiful as you,” his voice not loud enough to reach your fathers ears, only your own. Your cheeks flush as you look away, unable to keep your eyes on his.
“Thank you Sir,” you exhale. Eyes darting around the shop to avoid his gaze.
“I’ll see you,” he nods. Turning to your father with a thanks and leaves the shop. As the bell rings, signaling the door opening and closing your father looks to you wide eyed.
“I told you he would love it!” His hands thrown up in the air. “Who wouldn’t?” He darts across the shop as fast as his short legs are able, heavy leather apron flapping as his knees hit against it. As he approaches you, your feet hit the ground. Hopping off the stool and allowing him to wrap his arms around you. His build only slightly taller than yours. Large shoulders and arms from years of work, a round taught belly and a slightly scraggly beard hangs from his chin. He breaks his embrace. Looking to your eyes.
“I am so proud of you, I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter,” you smile admirably at your father. Tears in your eyes at his confession.
“Thank you, I couldn’t have asked for a better father, you’ve done so much for me. Taken me this far. Taught me your craft, I am so proud to be the daughter of Artemis Wayland,” his eyes become glassy and he pulls you in for another hug. Your face buried into his chest you breathe in deeply and sigh out. He smells of metal, fire and sage. He finally breaks free from you. Wiping fallen tears from his cheeks.
“I am going to get us some food from the market,” his voice steady once again. Booming off the walls. “Sir Styles always pays us handsomely so we will eat well tonight,” a large smile showcases his crooked teeth. “What are we thinking? Venison? Fish soup? Oh! I know,” he looks up from his desk, where he was searching for the bag of coins Sir Styles had left. “I can pick up more honey from the bee keeper, yes,” he says more so talking to himself. He continues to mumble and jumble as he heads toward the door, coins jingling around in his pocket as his heavy steps leave the shop. Bell ringing, echoing off the walls. You laugh to yourself and decide to get back to work. You pick up your tools and begin to work at the next piece you are making. A portrait of the queen that will be secured to the saddle of one of her guardsman’s horses. The door in the back of the shop opens. Assuming it’s your father you look up, quiet footsteps round the corner and you see him, Sir Styles. A large smile on your face, he approaches you, arms outstretched. You jump into his embrace, large arms catching you. Nose nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He gives you a spin before you unbury yourself from his neck. Green emerald eyes licking with yours for a spit second before dropping down to your lips. You lean forward and his mouth locks onto yours. Your hands love from their grasp on his shoulders and cup his face. Fingers scratching against the stubble on his jaw. You pull back, lips separating from his, a nose scrunching smile etched into your features.
“Happy Birthday,” your voice drilling with happiness.
“Thank you my love,” he pulls you in for about her kiss. Walking forward slowly until the small of your back bumps your work station, your legs still wrapped around his tall frame. You let a small whine as his hands dig harder into your bottom. Lifting you so your weight comes to rest on the sturdy wood table. Releasing his hold on your ass his hands find their way to your hips, kneading comfortably as he continues to press hard kisses onto your lips. Your hands trail down his neck, grazing across his collar bones, down the caverns of his chest to rest at the exposed skin. The float black shirt he is wearing uncinched, revealing the two bird shapes on his skin. Evidence of his travels with the queen, marked by pirates they say. He pulls back eyes still closed as his forehead rests on yours.
“We mustn’t take it too far my love, your father could come back soon,” his fingers finding a pinching grasp on your chin. Guiding you to look at him as stands tall again. You whine and lean into his touch.
“He has to go see the bee keeper,” you sake your head. “He won’t be back till the clock strikes again,” you say referring to the chimes that ring hourly. That has rung just minutes before as you worked. He smirks lightly.
“Then we have time,” his lips connect with yours again. Kiss quickly heating up, his hands running down your hips to the bottoms of your thighs. Slipping under your skirt and into your undergarments. Stopping at the crease of your thigh. Fingers running up and down the soft skin of your inner thighs. You whine at the tease, his tongue poking out to dance with yours as your mouth is agape. He tastes of fruit and wine, remanence if his celebration with the other knights you presume. You separate from him before connecting your mouth to his chin, trailing kisses down his jaw, across his neck until you find solace at the base of his neck. His grip between your legs tightening as you suck and nip at his hot skin. A growl like noise reverberates through his ribcage. He then yanks your undergarments down your thighs, you lift your body slightly so he can free them from your legs. Your lips disconnecting from his skin, once the beige colored cloth is discarded to the floor he drops to his knees. You mewl at the sight of him below you. His hands separating your knees he disappears under your skirt. His bottom lip skimming along the soft skin, slowing trailing to your center. Your hands grip the edge of your desk as he lays a kiss against your clit. Barely light enough to feel. Your hips jerk forward on their own accord, his hands hooking into your skin to keep to spread out in front of him. His tongue licks a long flat stripe against your folds. Humming at the taste of you, his nose grazes your clit as he licks up you me slit once again. Your head drops against your shoulders and a moan wracks through your body.
“Harry please,” you whine as he continues to tease your clit. “Make me feel good,” you plead. He smiles against you before shaking his head slightly.
“It’s my birthday,” his voice husky. “I’m going to eat my sweets,” and he dives back in. Still only licking through your folds. You let go of the table with one hand and slip your dress all the way up to your hips. His eyes look to you as you grasp at his hair and drop down, back flat against the desk. Tools digging into your skin uncomfortably, goes mostly unnoticed, as most of your attention is on the man between your legs. He finally begins to edge at your clit, the moans escaping your lips rising in pitch as he presses harder and further into you. Your hips moving on their own accord as his lips then wrap around your clit. Your fingers gripping his hair tighter, pushing him against you.
“Please Harry I need more,” you whine, your head thrashing on the wooden table under you. One of his hands unfolds from your thigh and inches toward your center, very, very slowly. “Harry please, please, I’ll be so good for you please,” you’re back arching in anticipation. “Just need to feel you Harry please,” you beg, he loves when you beg. Two fingers find your entrance, circling in a teasing manner. You pick up your head and slam it back down onto the table. “Fucking fuck!” You groan. A chuckle comes from Harry, vibrating your clit between his lips. The sensation bringing you the the edge. Closing your eyes so tight you can see bursts of color. His fingers dive into your soaking core, the sound leaving your body closer to a scream than a moan. He pulls back, head resting on your thigh.
“Come on baby, come on,” he coaxes you and dives back in. Sucking and slurping at you as you writhe in pleasure. Your orgasm hits you hard, heels digging into Harry’s back as your fingers pull at his dark brown curls. Hips and shoulders holding you to the table as your back arches deeply.
“Good girl, yes, such a good girl,” he murmurs as his fingers work you through your orgasm. The moans escaping you bouncing off the walls of the shop. Pleasure courses through your body, making the tips of you toes and fingers tingle from how hard they’re clenched. As you come crashing down you see Harry is now stood in front of you, palming at the front of his pants with one hand. The other still playing between your folds, whines of overstimulation escaping you. Your hands resting on your thighs come to push his away. He deters you with a smack on your wrist.
“Shhh, it’s okay baby,” he confirms as you move your hips move to escape his touch. “Gotta get you ready for my cock yeah?” He asks, his voice low and playful. You shake your head.
“I can take it. Harry please, I want it,” your hips still jerking away from his touch.
“Okay, okay baby,” his hands leave your body and push his pants down around his knees. “Comere,” he demands as he pulls you closer to him from where you scooted up the desk. Slotting himself between your thighs, angry cock protruding from his hips. His hand grazing up and down your thigh, soothing you as he lines himself up. You sit up, your chest meeting his, his hand comes up from your thigh and pulls at the strings holding your chest into the taught fabric. Yanking the corset from your frame he exposes your skin. Leaning down he kisses at the newly exposed pieces of you. His warm mouth encapsulates your nipple just as he sheaths himself fully inside you. Burying his dick completely inside you, waiting a moment for you to adjust as he plays with the sensitive bud in his mouth. Your hands playing with the curls at the back of his neck as his hips slowly, painfully pull away from you. Making you feel empty. He finally pulls away from your breast, only to find the other. Eyes pinched closed as he slowly pushes himself back into you. A gurgled moan escaping you as he finds the soft spot inside of you that makes your thighs clench around his frame.
“Oh my god Sir, yes, please,” the name setting him off. His thrusts gain strength and speed. Kissing up your neck he begins to leave sparse light marks along your skin. Teeth nipping at you just enough to enhance the pleasure shooting throughout your body. His right hand quickly finding your clit and the other wrapping around the back of you and pulling at your hair. You can feel the orgasm starting to build in your tummy, walls fluttering around his large cock inside of you. His breath becoming shaky and the noises escaping his throat loudening.
“Fuck please,” you plead harder as you get closer and closer.
“I’m close baby, I’m close,” his lips mumble into your neck. “Hold on for just another minute, wanna come with you baby,” you whimper but nod at his request.
“Fuck, Harry, come for me please,” the voice leaving your mouth not of your control. “Fill me, please I need you,” your hands pulling at his hair the same way his are tangled in yours.
“Fuck, yes, come for me,” he groans. Settling himself deep inside of you, head of his cock pressed painfully into your cervix. Your orgasm unleashes through you, body falling into Harry’s hold as he props the both of you up through your orgasm. You whimper into his neck. Teeth scraping against his skin as you press open mouthed kisses into the plush of his neck. Your name leaving his lips as you disconnect yours from his. Looking to the dark purple mark on his skin, adorned with light bite marks.
“Such a good girl,” he hums as you moves to connect his lips to yours. You smile dumbly into his lips. His hand resting at your chin as he pulls away. Thumb moving back and forth. “Always so good for me,” you lean into his touch.
“Thank you Harry.” You giggle.
“I assure you, all the thanks are for you,” his eyes scanning your face, content smile resting on his features. “For making this the best birthday of them all,” you look away with a blush on your cheeks.
“Whatever,” you laugh, pushing him away. He then proceeded to pull his pants up his legs and readjust his shirt back onto his shoulders. You shuffle yourself off the table and drop to the floor. Pulling your corset closed as tight as you can and quickly tying it up. Harry comes kneeled below you, undergarments I’m hand. You smile as him as he hooks them through one leg, than the other. Sliding them up your legs, dress catching on his arms as he glides them all the way up your legs. Placing a kiss on the inside of your parted legs. Before standing up and letting your skirt fall back to the floor.
“Come to mine tonight, yeah?” He asks. You nod and smile.
“Of course,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your nose.
“I love you,” he sighs.
“I love you,” you emphasize. He just nudges your nose with his, kissing you quickly again. He leans to grab his new sword and sheath, smiling back at you before leaving through the back door, just in time to hear the front door open and your fathers voice ring through the store.
“Hope you didn’t get too bored without me! Let’s go cook up some dinner!” A smile still carved into your features.
Summary: On a business trip gone wrong, you get stuck in a room with your least favourite person. To make it worse... there's only one bed. OR, a classic enemies-to-lovers one-bed trope fic with bickering and laughs and smut to go along with it.
Author’s note: This is based off a very helpful suggestion by @daydreaming-laur so thank youuuu! I'm really excited about this one because I think the banter is good, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Thank you so much to those who joined my Patreon and read it already! Happy Reading ❤️
- Find my General Masterlist here -
“What are you talking about!? We booked these rooms four months ago, and suddenly you’re double booked! How does that work?” you exclaimed, trying so hard not to get angry at the guy behind the hotel check-in desk but failing miserably. He wasn’t the one to book your rooms or room more like it all those months ago, but he just happened to be right there in your line of fire.
You just couldn’t help it. Not when you were on a business trip that you didn’t want to be on with a man you couldn’t stand.
Every cell of your body hated Harry Styles. He was a smug prick who just loved to make your life a living hell with his pet names and snide comments and a superiority complex so fucking huge you couldn’t hit it with a truck and deflate it.
It was like his head was so far up his own ass he just went deaf any time someone tried to knock him down a peg. The only fault he ever acknowledged to you was not having a ‘second dick’ so he could ‘make more women scream at the same time’. Safe to say the look on his face when you ‘accidentally’ spilt your coffee on his Yve St. Laurant suit after that comment was one you’d never forget.
“Yeah, this has got to be some mistake.” Harry butted in, eyeing you a little as he stepped forward to stand way too close to your side.
He wasn’t happy with sharing a room with you either. As much as he loved to push your buttons, your snippy attitude and eye rolls got him so fucking annoyed he couldn’t stand the idea of being stuck in the same room as you all weekend.
You were just so… uptight. Always dressed without a hair out of place and way too organised. Your desk was some neat freak’s dream. Every pen had a place, every paper was perfectly aligned. Your folders were ordered just so and he once saw your computer files and wanted to gouge his eyes out at how every document had a number or code to file them like the folders themselves weren’t organised enough.
You were never late and never nice to him and it irked him up the damn wall. You were practically best friends with everyone else in the office yet when it came to him you could barely look at him let alone have a conversation.
Harry could admit that he hated the fact you didn’t like him above all your other dislikeable qualities. Being organised (albeit in a borderline obsessive way) could be a positive if you ever smiled at him instead of just glaring anytime he was in your line of vision.
“Ugh, don’t act like it would be so terrible to room with me.” you spat, rolling your eyes at Harry’s irritation. You crossed your arms over your chest, tired and grumpy from your flight and just wanting to nap before your company dinner tonight. “At least I’d keep it clean, you, however, would probably spread mono just by putting your toothbrush near mine”
He inhaled a sharp breath, his jaw tense like he wanted to say something but decided not to. Sometimes he wished he could just shut your mouth for you, so you’d give him a little peace and quiet for once in your existence.
Harry could think of a few ways to stuff that pretty mouth of yours. Unfortunately for you, he preferred the more obedient type in bed, and he had a pretty good idea that you liked to run your mouth in the bedroom as well as out.
He wasn’t one to like a brat. He preferred a good submissive boy or girl. Though… maybe if you let him fuck you, you’d stop acting like you had a stick up your ass.
“Ignore her.” Harry ignored your comment and spoke to the guy instead, flashing a dashing smile on his lips. “She’s a bit sensitive this time of month… if you know what I mean” he alluded, looking at you briefly and appearing ecstatic at the irritation on your face. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Oh I am going to slap your stupid-” you started, getting too riled up too fast. A period joke? Really?
“I’m really sorry!” the hotel clerk jumped in, clearly panicked by you two bickering. “It definitely is a mistake on our part and I’m more than happy to refund you for the extra room and offer you some bar vouchers for the trouble”
“Look…” Harry looked down to the name badge pinned to the clerk’s chest, “Richard, that is a kind offer but what I’d really like is another room. So how much is it?” he patted his jacket pockets and then his jeans back pockets to find his wallet, fishing it out in preparation to just fork out however much it would cost.
He’d just send the invoice to your boss and get him to pay him back later. It wasn’t a big deal really, as long as you two got your own rooms. Maybe he’d even get upgraded and you could have the sucky, bare minimum room your company decided was good enough.
Your irritating personality wasn’t the only reason Harry wanted his own space. A company-paid trip interstate to a fancy hotel meant an equally as fancy bar, and some poor lonely gorgeous man or woman needing someone to take their mind off whatever problems they had. Harry could be that person, in fact, he loved to be that person.
He loved to be the distraction, the fantasy, the man whose face would be plagued in wet dreams and whose name would be threatening to spill instead of whoever they decided to sleep with after him. He liked to be an infection in his partner’s mind, to fuck them so good they’d never find someone else who satisfied them like he did.
And he couldn't really be a wet dream with you hanging around like a wet sock, could he?
For the first time since you met Harry, you actually agreed with something he said. “Yeah…” you trailed off, glaring at him. “What he said. How much is it, even for an upgrade?”
“Oh um, I don’t think you two are understanding me. There are no rooms available for this weekend.” Richard seemed a little nervous now, clearly reading the irritated vibe you two were giving off.
“None?” you blinked, shocked and also a little panicked as the reality of the situation started to sink in.
“None at all? Like not even the presidential suite?” Harry gaped, also surprised.
“Like you could afford the presidential suite on your salary” you scoffed, looking away. He did that sharp intake again and you found yourself smiling a little in satisfaction.
“Yes. None at all. We’re hosting a conference this weekend so we’re fully booked… or, double booked, unfortunately.”
“We know, Richard. We’re going to the damn conference” you snapped, sighing and running your fingers through your hair before rubbing your eyes. “So what are we meant to do, find another hotel?”
“I don’t think that’ll be possible either, ma’am,” Richard responded apologetically.
“Ma’am” Harry snorted under his breath while shaking his head, making you let out a huff.
“Why?”
“There’s a big concert this weekend at the same time, between that and the country-wide conference, all the other hotels will be booked out as well. You could try Motel 6?” he offered a friendly smile, too friendly… like he was actually enjoying your misery.
“I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’m not going to Motel 6” Harry turned to you like he was expecting you to go to Motel 6.
“I’m not going to Motel 6! I’ll probably get kidnapped then trafficked!” you exclaimed, shivering at the thought of being in a dingey motel like that. You’ve seen criminal minds, like four times and no one staying in a Motel 6 ever leaves alive. “Have you seen criminal minds, Harry?”
“I have” he responded, almost proudly. “You’d probably be safe anyway, sweetheart. They’d see your ass and want you, but after you open your mouth they’d return you and pay the police to keep you away from them” he grinned, winking.
That time you actually did slap his arm, but nowhere near as hard as he deserved.
“So… would you two like one key or two?” Richard asked, interrupting again.
“Two.” you responded quickly so Harry wouldn’t jump in before you “And I need double bar vouchers”
//
“You better not snore” you walked ahead of him, trying to beat Harry to the door of your shared hotel room.
This was going to be a weekend from hell, you already knew it. But your two bar vouchers were safe in your pocket and you planned to use both up to their full advantage. Hopefully, there’s a happy hour. You prayed for a happy hour.
“I should be the one saying that” Harry chuckled, “With your perfect clothes and perfect hair and I’m sure you’ve organised your suitcase perfectly, a little imperfection would do you good”
“It will honestly be a miracle if I don’t kill you before this trip is over.” You shook your head, inserting the key into the reader then pushing the door open once it unlocked.
“Or maybe little miss perfect is a sleepwalker, wouldn’t that be hilarious” he laughed to himself and followed you in, barely catching the door as you let it nearly slam shut onto him. There was no way you were holding it open for him.
“Yeah, just fucking hila-oh fuck off.” Your eyes widened when you got past the bathroom door to the main area of the suite, your eyes widened at the sight before you and you stopped right in the middle of the small hall. “Oh god no this can’t be happening”
“What? What-oh. Oh, this is fantastic!” Harry laughed loudly, pushing past you with his bag and dumping it on the bed before he collapsed backwards onto it.
One bed. There was one queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.
You didn’t know why the possibility of having to share a bed didn’t cross your mind before, but you kinda just assumed that it would be two single beds. And now that you not only had to share a room but a bed with Harry? You wanted the ground to swallow you up.
“God hates me. He hates me” you muttered to yourself, forcing yourself to move forwards and set your bag neatly in the corner of the room.
“I bet you're loving this, aren’t you sweetheart? Can’t wait to share a bed with me, can you? Get all cuddled up and close” Harry taunted, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you open your bag.
You really did have a nice ass. Seeing you bent over your bag like that was almost riling Harry up. Almost. If your ass wasn’t attached to such a painful and vanilla woman he might’ve tried to take advantage of the bed situation.
Alas, looks like he was just going to have to go to his conquest’s hotel room tonight. After the company dinner, he planned to take his bar voucher and find someone pretty to be inside by the end of the night. It was a solid plan, he thought.
“Hah!” you laughed bitterly, focused on getting some comfy clothes and your toiletry bag out of your small suitcase. You needed a shower as soon as possible then a good hour or two nap before you’d have to get ready for dinner. “Like you think I’m actually sharing the bed with you l. You’re going on the floor”
“Yeah right” Harry snorted. “There’s no way I’m sacrificing my sleep and my back for you. We’re both adults, we can share without getting inappropriate”
“Harry” you sighed, standing up straight and turning to face him. You took a few steps forward and his eyes dragged over you in curiosity. “I would rather gouge my eyes out than have sex with you. Just so we’re clear” you flashed a fake smile then stormed to the bathroom before shutting and locking the door.
By the time you got out of the shower, Harry was gone. His travelling clothes were thrown on the bed and he left his bag open. On top of the bag was a box of condoms, open and a couple clearly missing.
Gross. Ugh, you hoped whatever woman with exceptionally poor taste kept him all night, or all weekend more like it. If he only made it back to change you’d be happy as anything.
The fact that he brought condoms in the first place was uncomfortable, even more that he left them on top of his bag like some presentation to prove he had sex or something. You could’ve been reading into it, but something told you he was just trying to weasel his way into your head.
Fucker.
You went and closed the curtains, preparing the room for your nap before heading back to bed. You didn’t really want to touch Harry’s clothes, knowing they had been on his body but he conveniently dumped them right in the middle of the bed.
There was no way you were contorting your body and having an uncomfortable sleep because of his stupid clothes. So you used the decorative pillow to push them to the side of the bed so you could have room to sleep properly.
Once you climbed in bed though, that exhaustion you had suddenly disappeared and you were wide awake. Because all you could smell was Harry. His cologne was fresh with a hint of spice, a deep seductive smell that you liked way too much.
There were only two qualities you liked about Harry, or rather, hate that you liked. His appearance was annoyingly one of them because unfortunately for you, Harry Styles was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever seen. Possibly one of the most attractive men on the planet.
The downside of that was that he knew it and it only fed into his giant ego when all he had to do was flash a little smile or run his hand through his luscious hair and he could get basically whatever he wanted. Superiority complex? Check.
The other quality that you hated that you liked, was how he smelt. He was one of those men you got a whiff of when they walked by but in a delicious and arousing way. Harry smelt like sex on legs, like a man you just wanted to ravage.
So the room was already full of his cologne, and the bedding was saturated in it from when he laid down earlier. It was distracting and worse of all, it had a heartbeat growing between your legs.
You shuffled around a bit, squeezing and shifting your legs and groaning when you couldn't settle because all you could think about was Harry’s mouth and his neck and what that gorgeous cologne would taste like on his skin. Probably alcohol, but it was nice to imagine that his skin tasted as good as he smelt.
Nice… it was nice to imagine? No, it was fucking irritating. Because now you were horny, uncomfortably horny and to the thought of one of your least favourite people on the planet.
A drink. A drink is exactly what you needed.
No napping could save you and you refused to touch yourself in the same bed you’d have to share with the object of your desires.
So you got up and started getting dressed instead, both for the luxurious bar downstairs and your work dinner later tonight. A few drinks would seriously take the edge off and hopefully get rid of the wetness between your legs.
It was a casual work dinner, at least casual in the sense you didn’t have to dress business professional for it. Everyone from your office invited to the conference was meeting at one of the nice restaurants at the casino attached to the hotel for drinks and dinner before the conference started in the morning.
It was an opportunity to relax and unwind, and to dress up for the first time in a while. Unfortunately, your good work friends weren’t on the trip, which would’ve helped avoid this whole room mess. But there were other women who you were friendly with, not exceptionally close, but enough to coordinate outfits and see what the vibe would be.
You went with a short strapless dress, black and a-line with a leather blazer that you’d put on for dinner after you had a few drinks. It was still a work dinner after all and showing off your legs was enough.
After doing some makeup and grabbing your bag, you went searching for your drink vouchers. You left them on the bedside table, two perfectly useable vouchers that had your name written on them. Not literally, but they were yours.
Yet when you looked there, they were nowhere to be seen.
“They were right here!” you groaned, looking over to the other bedside table to see if you mixed up the tables. But no, you were sure you left them there.
After looking all over the room, there was no other explanation as to where they had gone except in the back pocket of that slimy motherfucker whose stuff he left all over your bed. Oh, now you were pissed. Harry could steal your bed and infect your room with his cologne, but your drinks vouchers?
That fucker had two of his own, $100s worth between the vouchers just like you had. So now he was prancing around the hotel with $200s worth of free drinks to get his dick sucked? Not on your watch.
You were in the lift before you knew it and as soon as you reached the bar floor you were on a mission to find that son of a bitch. You heard his laugh before you saw him, which made it easy to spot him sitting at the bar beside a gorgeous blonde with that dashing smile on his mouth.
He was working way too hard and she was liking him way too much. There were two drinks on the bar behind them and the sight made your blood boil way too much. Those drinks were paid with your voucher, you fucking knew it.
“You gave me mono, you asshole!” you exclaimed once you were in earshot, both Harry and his date immediately looking at you. Harry’s eyes were wide and he looked pissed, while the girl just looked shocked. “Look, I wouldn’t be a gal's gal if I didn’t save you from making a huge mistake” you addressed the girl, “I slept with him and now I have mono and I’d hate for you to be next. He’s a walking STD” then you brought your fist up to your mouth and faked a cough, “See? Mono.”
She looked disgusted, “Asshole” she spat at him before giving you a thankful nod and storming away from the two of you.
“What the fuck, y/n!?”
“Was this drink bought with my drink voucher?” you asked with a smile, cocking your head while sliding into the chair the blonde had been inhabiting. You stirred her unfinished drink with the straw and shoved your bag and jacket onto your lap, looking at him expectantly.
Except he was just staring at you, eyes dark as he scanned your body. It had you shifting in your chair. His gaze was almost seductive and hot. Your body was warming up and you weren’t sure how to deal with his attention like this.
The moment you sat down Harry’s anger disappeared completely. Because… well fuck. That dress was doing something for you, a lot for you actually. And your hair was down and all wavy, your eyes dark with shadow and you had this lipgloss on that made your lips look so irresistible he had this sudden craving to shut you up with his mouth instead of his dick.
And your legs… when he angled his head just right he could see past the jacket on your lap and all the way up your outer thigh to where your dress was barely covering anything.
This outfit made all your irritating qualities suddenly disappear into thin air. He was pissed you sabotaged a hookup that was going marvellously, but seeing you look like that? Well, maybe you two would be using your bed for something other than sleeping.
“Maybe… thought I'd have a better use for them than you did. I’m sure you’d much rather be reading some stock report than drinking and actually enjoying yourself… though, dressed like that maybe I’m wrong” he smirked, purposely cocking his head so he could see up the side of your leg.
You shifted uncomfortably, not because you didn’t like the way he was staring at you, but because you did. It was turning you on again and you found yourself fighting the urge to down the blonde’s drink.
“You saw me ask Richard for the vouchers, you dick! And if it wasn’t for me you’d only be getting one not two. So be thankful and give them back.” You held your hand out expectedly, waiting for him to give you your vouchers so you could try and use them at the rooftop bar instead.
You just needed to be far far away from Harry as soon as humanly possible.
“I can be thankful in another way” he suggested, leaning in a little while resting his elbow on the bar top and propping his chin up by his fist. He flashed you major flirty eyes and extended his left tattooed arm so his fingers could graze against your knee.
You jerked it away, feigning disgust to cover up your attraction to him. Though… he probably already knew. Harry had a talent of spotting people interested in him, which was most of the population.
So yeah, the second your breath hitched at his offer he knew the door was ajarred just enough for him to wiggle his way through.
“Don’t be disgusting. If your lovely personality wasn’t enough, who knows where your dick has been” you snapped, looking away from him.
He laughed loudly and shook his head before running his hand through his hair. “If I didn’t know you hated me, I’d think you were flirting”
You couldn’t lie, that was a bit funny. A smile quirked at your lips, but you quickly covered it up with a straight face and a little cough. “Ah! I saw that” he pointed, happy that he got you to crack. Maybe you only had a small stick up your ass instead of a foot long one like he thought.
“Just give me the vouchers Harry. So we can go our separate ways until we’re forced to go to dinner together.” You held your hand out, but he made no effort to dig out the vouchers from his pocket.
After a few moments of silence he spoke up, “How about a drink instead? My shout?” then he got the vouchers from his pocket, all three since he already used one, and slammed them on the bar.
That fucker.
Still… you couldn’t help but be curious about his suggestion.
“Fine, one drink”
//
“So, do you really hate me?” Harry asked, nursing his third drink of the night. He picked whiskey, something he could sip on that wouldn’t get him too dizzy. He wanted to be happy, not sloshed. Besides… he was still thinking about parting your pretty legs and he couldn’t do that if he was intoxicated.
“Hah! That’s funny, you’re funny. Are you seriously asking me that question?” you laughed, sipping your drink.
“Yes I’m seriously asking you that question. You seem to love everyone in the office except me, why is that?” he cocked his head and seemed to be genuine in his question. Though, you didn’t know why he cared whether you liked him or not.
“Harry, your ego is the size of the moon and you are single handedly the most arrogant man I have ever met. Your attitude is poor and you expect everyone to worship the ground you walk on just because you have a pretty face. So yeah, maybe I don’t like you. But not everyone has to like you” you shrugged. Your tone wasn’t vicious or cruel, you were just being honest.
“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, y/n.” he replied dryly, getting irritated again. That urge to shut your pretty mouth built up in him again, but this time he wanted you to choke a little while he did it.
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” you exclaimed, feeling a little insulted at his insinuation. You were a huge fucking ray of sunshine thank you very much, to everyone but him.
“You’re bossy, uptight and have control issues. You’re suspiciously way too put together so you definitely have daddy issues or some unresolved childhood trauma that makes you act like you have a stick up your ass” he flashed a fake smile, but it was barely there before you slapped him hard against the face.
You were shocked at your own actions and quickly stood up, staring between him and your hand with wide eyes. Everyone in the bar looked at you two and the security guard was walking fast towards you.
“I-”
“I didn’t mean half of that” Harry piped up, completely unphased by your slap. But he was phased by the angry-looking security guard definitely walking over to you to kick you out. “But we need to go. Now”
He grabbed the remaining drink voucher off the bar then grabbed your hand, pulling you after him as he started jogging out the other bar entrance into the casino.
“What are you doing!?” You hissed, running with him because you didn’t really have a choice, nor did you want to get caught by that security guard.
“Making sure you don’t get us kicked out of this hotel! We’re in the same room, remember? You get kicked out, I get kicked out” he said over his shoulder, ducking around a slot machine. You yelped and ducked too, looking over your own shoulder to see the security guard gone.
“Okay, okay! He’s gone!” You yelped, pulling free from him and stopping. You panted and pressed your hands to your knees. Harry stopped as well and noted your position, immediately stepping behind you. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure no one sees your ass. Your dress is short and you don’t seem to care one bit” he breathed, feeling a bit breathless himself. Oh… that was kinda nice? Kinda.
“Please, like you care” you panted, “you only ran away to save yourself”
“And you! I could’ve left you there, sweetheart. Start acting thankful” he mocked your words from before which made you shoot up and face him.
“God you are just such hard work, Harry!”
“So are you.” He stepped closer, challenging you with his eye contact. “You know maybe I did mean some of the shit I said.” He stepped even closer, so close his chest brushed to yours and you were forced to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. You could feel his breath fan your face, and despite how angry he seemed, you couldn’t help but get turned on at his clenched jaw and hazy eyes.
“You are uptight and have control issues.” He spat every word and your breath got caught in your chest at his tone. You hated being spoken down to and it made you grow hot quickly, feeling a little embarrassed and angry at his opinion of you. “You could at least say thank you for saving your ass, but no. Because it was my idea to run away and not yours, you don’t care.”
The tension was growing, like the anger you both held towards each other was morphing into something else.
“Is that what this is then? Your poor little ego being bruised by an uptight control freak not getting on her knees to thank you? Are you that obsessed with me that you need my valida-”
You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before he was cupping your jaw with both hands and his mouth was kissing yours. You were stunned at first, shocked that Harry fucking Styles was kissing you.
But after that initial shock, you kissed back. And oh fuck was it a good kiss. With one hand keeping your jacket to your chest, the other fisted his tank while you got up a little on your tippy toes to deepen it.
Harry’s mouth moved expertly and so hot you could’ve cried. His large hands were cupping your jaw then one started sliding lower until it was loosely wrapped around the front. Oh did that action have you whimpering.
“Just shut up, y/n. Please for the love of God, shut. up.” He groaned, breaking the kiss and looking at you darkly. His eyes were blown with lust and his lips were already swollen. What you’d give to have him give you that same look from between your legs.
“Make… me” you challenged, releasing his tank then running your hand up his chest to the cross necklace. You fiddled with it, waiting for him to respond.
“Challenge accepted” he smirked.
Then he grabbed your hand and dragged you around the place again. He walked with purpose, straight to the lift up to your floor and suite.
The moment you were in the confines of your suite, Harry’s hands were back on your face and you two were kissing like it would somehow make all your anger towards each other disappear. You were tugging off his blazer and he was grabbing yours and your bag and shoving it to the floor.
His hands roamed your body, grabbing your hips and your waist and everywhere he could while you two messily walked backwards into the room.
“Oh my god!” He gasped, in shock when his eyes opened and he looked at the room.
You were in the middle of tugging his tank top out of his pants to get him naked. You were already having a field day with his arms on display, all tatted and muscly. His bicep honestly looked like the perfect necklace and you wanted him to wrap his entire arm around your neck.
You had never seen all his tattoos before. You saw a few peeking out of his dress shirts, but never completely bare and delicious. Those two swallows showcased by his slutty little tank top were making you feral.
And for a work dinner too? What did he wear on a date or just in his everyday life? With a little tug, his whole nipple was exposed. Did he go bare tits on the daily?
But then he gasped and it gave you a bit of a fright, immediately thinking someone broke in and stole stuff or ransacked the place.
“What? What!?” You turned around quickly, looking around the room in a panic but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. “What are you talking about?”
“The mess! Look at your makeup everywhere, y/n. Could you not have cleaned up after? And here I thought you were ocd about cleanliness” He was just egging you on and trying to get a rise out of you and when you turned to slap his chest he had the cheekiest expression on his face.
“God, we’re literally about to have sex and you’re still pissing me off!” You groaned, but your hand never landed because he caught your wrist before it could.
“Oh, we’re about to have sex? Since when?” He acted shocked and you were about to walk out of the hotel room.
“Harry I swear to God”
“I just love seeing you all riled up, sweetheart. It’s fucking hot, to be honest” he grinned, letting go of your wrist to grab onto the hem of your dress.
“Is that why you act like a child on a daily basis?” You asked, lifting your arms up so he could pull your dress off. You didn’t wear a bra because your dress was tight enough to provide support to your boobs.
Being stood there like that… in only your underwear and heels while he was still fully clothed was like being a sacrificial lamb to a lion. His gaze was deep and hungry and he lazily dragged his eyes over your body like he was trying to memorise every inch of it.
You wore this tiny little black lace g-string that made his mouth water and your breasts were just so fucking pretty he wanted to grab them and run his mouth all over them. Your nipples were hard from arousal, and if he looked close enough your underwear was soaked through with it too.
And at the beginning of the day, he thought you’d be the wet sock to ruin his wet dream. Yet he was completely wrong. You were a wet dream personified, and he was a happy participant.
“It’s one of my many motives…” he mumbled, almost like he didn’t care about this little rivalry between you two. “Jesus Christ, y/n” he cursed, grabbing your waist and pulling you forward to kiss you again. He wrapped his arms around your body and you wrapped yours around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging hard enough to make him moan.
“Y’know, that slap of yours was kinda hot” he spoke between kisses, grabbing your hips and walking you backwards to the bed.
“Yeah? I can slap you again? Maybe knock a few teeth out” you suggested, pulling his tank top off with a little help from him. Your eyes landed straight on his abs, chiseled and littered with dark hairs that made you want to scream. Then your eyes went lower to his hard cock, long and thick through his pants. God did you just want him to fuck you so hard with it you couldn’t walk straight after. “Could slap you here… make it hurt?”
You made eye contact again and grabbed him through his pants, eliciting a hiss as the back of your legs hit the bed. “I thought you were this sweet little vanilla girl. That’s not it at all, is it?” he rose a brow then
grabbed the front of your neck and pushed you gently, making you fall back onto the bed and support yourself with your hands.
Harry figured you were a brat, but more in a mouthy ‘I hate you’ kinda way, not in a kinky way. But with the way you were acting, your little miss perfect routine seemed to just be the surface of your personality.
“If you think I’m gonna call you Daddy, you’re delusional.” You stuck your leg out, pressing your heeled foot to the centre of his abs.
He looked down and grabbed your ankle, his touch soft enough to send shivers down your spine. It was like your entire body reacted to him. His smell, his stare, his touch. It all drove you absolutely wild.
“Sir?” he smirked, removing your heel while sliding his other hand up your calf. You were quick to change feet, pressing your other to his chest instead.
“No chance. You gonna call me Mommy? Since you seem to crave my validation?” you ran your tongue over your teeth, gasping when he dropped your leg and grabbed your neck roughly. This time he dug his fingers a little into the sides of your esophagus, making a euphoric woozy feeling float into your brain.
“What I’m going to do is shut you up like I was challenged to” he leaned in and pulled you closer at the same time, making you sit up straighter. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart.”
He pressed a firm kiss on your mouth then pushed you back so he could undo the button of his pants and remove them. You did as instructed and got on your knees on the bed, scooching back so you had room to bend down and reach his dick.
You were quite excited to be honest, but you didn’t want him to know that.
“I hate when you call me that” you muttered, sitting back on your feet.
Harry kicked his shoes off then tucked his thumbs into his dress pants and underwear, shoving them down until they fell to the floor.
Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, all hard and heavy. Fuck. He was trimmed at the base and his cock was angrily pink at the tip, like it was painful in the confines of his pants.
His comment about wanting a second dick to please more women made sense now, unfortunately. As cocky as it was, he really did have a pretty cock, one you actually wanted to taste and please and bring down your throat.
“You shouldn’t have told me that, sweetheart. Now I’m gonna have to use it all the time” he gathered your hair and grabbed it in a ponytail, guiding your mouth to his. He kissed you firmly before tugging your hair back so it broke and he was staring right at you. “Now are you gonna be a good girl f’me and suck my cock?”
“You wish.” You scoffed, letting him guide you down towards his cock. He wasn’t pushing or being rough, just giving you space to move in his grip. “I’m only sucking you off because I want to, not because you’re asking me to”
You spat into your hand then wrapped it around his base, eliciting a throaty groan that made you satisfied that he was so easy to please. Men usually were. The moan was like music to your ears too, and you just wanted to make more of them.
“You really are revealing all sorts of things tonight, y/n. Saying that you like my pet name for you… admitting that you want to suck me-fuck…” he cursed, mouth gaping when you licked a stripe up the underside of his length then swirled your tongue around his tip. “…off”
“Mhmm” you replied, bringing his cock halfway into your mouth so he’d whimper a little before pulling back. “But I also distinctly remember you threatening to shut me up. You’re talking too much for that to happen” you grinned before flicking your tongue along his slit. You maintained eye contact the whole time, moaning a little at the taste of his pre-cum.
“I did, didn’t I?” he smirked, gripping your hair tighter and making you whimper at the pain. But you liked it, that tight almost burning feeling on your scalp. “Keep your mouth open.”
He tucked his thumb into your chin and dragged it open, but said nothing else before sliding his cock as deep as he could go until you gagged at how fast he moved. “Not so chatty now, are you sweetheart?”
Harry didn’t give you an opportunity to reply before he was using your head to start thrusting into your mouth. You relaxed as much as you could, eyes closed as tears pricked while you grabbed onto his thighs hard. Your fingers dug into his skin, trying to ground yourself at the sting in the back of your throat.
But you loved it.
His noises of pleasure, whimpers, grunts and moans all mixing together was making your head spin. You never thought you’d enjoy what came out of Harry’s mouth, ever. But his moans and dirty talk just itched your brain in the most perfect way and turned you on even more than you already were.
“You’re so much prettier when you can’t talk, sweetheart. Look so fucking good choking on my cock” he smirked, looking down at you with parted lips and this dark expression in his eyes.
His abs were contracting and his jaw was tense. He looked mean and cocky and that look of pleasure laced in his expression was killing you. He really was an insanely attractive man.
It was a bit unfair really.
You pulled off quickly, panting and smiling up at him while tapping the head of his cock to your stuck out tongue. “I’m not choking yet, maybe your dick isn’t as impressive as you thought it was” it was a teasing comment, one that had anger flash across his face.
“You’re gonna regret that”
Then his thumb was tucked into your mouth and forcing it open. He slid his cock right in, forcing down into your throat and thrusting back and forth at a cruel pace. Now you were definitely choking. It was deep and made you feel so full and dizzy your head was spinning. It was a light-headed feeling like nothing else.
The sight of you with makeup running down your face and saliva dripping down onto the bed below that pretty mouth of yours was making him go crazy. He got sick satisfaction from seeing you all stuffed up with his cock, especially when you couldn’t talk back and show off your irritating personality.
You swallowed around him with purpose, contracting your throat in a way that had him hissing and his thighs shaking like you were sucking the literal soul out of him.
“Fucking Jesus! Gonna make me cum if you keep doing that” he cursed, which only made you do it again. “Y/n” he warned, pulling your head back so his cock slipped from your mouth.
“And here I thought you’d be jumping at the chance to cum in my mouth” you smiled, voice a bit rusty. You barely had the chance to wipe the saliva from your face with the back of your hand before he was roughly tugging your head back up to kiss you.
“I’m sick of trying to shut you up. Clearly nothing works on a brat like you” he snapped, nipping his way down your jaw until he found a spot that he liked and began sucking a mark there.
You whimpered and scratched your nails against his abs. There was no room to wiggle. His hand was fisted tight in the back of your head and he was creating dizzying pain on your neck. It was a situation where you could only move forward to the bite or his mouth or backward into the grip of his hand.
You were trapped. Yet so wet and tingly between your legs you had to squeeze your legs together to get some stimulation. Any stimulation. Giving him head was enough to get you going, but now that he was making it hurt you were getting incredibly desperate.
“Maybe you weren’t trying hard enough” you gasped.
“No. I think a brat like you just needs to be fucked like a whore to set her straight. That’s all” he said it so matter of factly you almost forgot your own name. Then he was kissing you again, seemingly satisfied with the hickey he created at the base of your neck. “Turn around.”
He grabbed your ass and slapped it hard then finally let you go, giving you the opportunity to turn around. “I’m going to slap you when we’re done for calling me a whore” you warned, yelping a little when he pressed your face into the duvet by the back of your head. Your ass was sticking up now and your whole body was tense in anticipation of what he’d do.
You were going to slap him because there were probably hundreds of reasons to slap him. Though, him calling you a whore wasn’t actually one of them. Because being degraded turned you on. If anything, you needed to slap yourself for liking it so much.
“Sorry. I’ll correct that. My whore. I’ll fuck you like my whore” you could practically hear the smirk in his tone and it sent a shiver through your body when he ran his hands down your back to your hips. His hands were hot but his rings provided cool relief from his burning touch.
“Like I’ll ever be your anything.” You scoffed, tensing as he pressed a kiss to your ass. He ran his mouth along the small string of your g-string and followed it as he began tugging it down roughly, like he would’ve torn it off if he could’ve.
“You’ll be thinking differently once I’ve ruined every other fucking man on the planet for you”
He grinned against your ass then pulled your underwear completely off. Once they were discarded somewhere in the room, he pulled apart your ass cheeks and groaned at the sight.
You were just so fucking pretty and wet and he wasted no time dragging his fingers through your folds before sliding one into you. It had you gasping a little, especially when he found your g-spot with ease.
He couldn’t resist tasting you either, immediately licking on your very inner thighs to taste your arousal that soaked all the way through your underwear. He moaned a little at the taste then headed straight for your clit, flicking his tongue against it experimentally before properly wrapping his lips around it.
The feeling had you moaning loudly into the mattress and fisting the duvet in your hands. He just seemed to know exactly what he was doing right away and accompanied his mouth with an extra finger at your entrance. The cool of his rings had you shivering, but it only added to the pleasure you were experiencing.
“You taste so damn good, sweetheart. Could eat your pretty pussy for days” Harry moaned appreciatively, kneading your ass in his hand while his fingers worked against your g-spot.
Harry ate pussy like it was his favourite meal. He was sloppy and messy and sucked your clit just right. And he was fingering you too good to even be real. His cock wasn’t even near you yet and your whole body was already vibrating with pleasure.
“Feel good, y/n? Tell me. Say it” he wanted to hear you succumb to his pleasure. To finally give in and just admit that you liked at least one thing about him. Maybe even beg.
Harry would pay to hear you beg.
“How about you shut up for once and get back to what you’re half decent at” you groaned, reaching behind for his head to try and guide him back. He laughed and shoved your hand away, pressing it down to the bed beside you.
“Half decent?” He flicked his tongue against your clit, so fast it had you squirming back to try and reach for more. “I’d say I’m better than half decent, wouldn’t you?”
Then he wrapped those pink lips of his around your clit and sucked. He sucked and nibbled and fucked his fingers right into your g-spot all at the same time until you were gasping his name.
You moaned it loudly as you came, not bothering to give warning because frankly, he didn’t deserve it. You, however, deserved an orgasm and he happily drew you through the entire thing.
“Still only half decent?”
Now he was itching for praise. For something other than an insult or a halfway compliment that seemed to just irritate him rather than make him feel good. He couldn’t lie, you were possibly the only person on the planet who managed to bruise his ego.
And if he didn’t get any actual praise for his skills by the end of the night, he would make it his personal mission to get you in his bed as many times as possible to get it. Though, Harry was confident in his ability to please a woman, so he was sure that wouldn’t be necessary.
But having sex wasn’t done for necessity, was it? It was done for a little fun, or to sate a desire or in your case… to fuck the attitude away.
“Yes” you breathed, panting into the bed and still trying to get a rise out of him.
Harry let out a huff of frustration and licked his fingers clean of you before spanking you once. Then he got off the bed quickly to grab one of the condoms he stashed in the pocket of his pants. He was back on the bed barely a minute later, cock sheathed in a condom and kneeling behind you while just kneading your ass in his hands. You were clenching around nothing at his touch and he could see it. It drove him fucking crazy.
“Maybe if you fuck me right, I’ll put it up to decent” you panted, pushing back into his touch.
You were a bit desperate for him, you couldn’t lie. But you weren’t willing to beg for it. The thought of begging Harry Styles was so revolting, it almost turned you off.
Almost. Because he was right behind you and was now guiding his cock right to your entrance. How could you get turned off when he was about to fuck you?
“Once I fuck you right you’ll be praising me like Jesus himself”
You didn’t get a chance to correct him or throw something about his ego back before he was pushing inside of you. He did it in all one go, then without warning or giving you time to adjust he just started fucking you.
“Oh fucking-Harry!” You cried out, a dull pain pulsing through your core. But that pain was barely noticeable with the way he was driving into you. His cock was long and thick and he hit your g-spot so hard and fast you were practically sobbing into the bedding.
“There it is. There’s that pretty moan of yours. Bet I can get it louder” he gloated, grabbing your wrists and pulling them towards your back. Your face smushed harder into the bedding, but you couldn’t care when he grabbed your wrists and used them for leverage to fuck you.
“Feel so fucking good, y/n. We should’ve done this way sooner” he groaned, slapping your ass and tipping his head back at how wet and tight you were around him. His hips were snapping hard against yours, the sound echoing through the hotel room. But it was only muffled beneath your uncontrollable whines and Harry’s own moans.
His grip on your wrists was tight and a bit painful, but the dominance and control of it all had your head spinning so you didn’t care one bit. The pain only made the experience more pleasurable. With every spank and degradation, you were inching closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.
At least Harry actually knew how to please a girl and wasn’t just making things up for the last two years that you knew him.
The pleasure was dizzying. The rate and force he was pummelling into you had your brain going completely numb. There were no thoughts in there anymore, not even any witty comebacks that you could throw at him. It was just empty and overwhelmed and only focused on Harry all at the same time.
“Fuck” he muttered, his cock slipping out of you with a distinct wet sound. It was covered in your cream and arousal and you were just so beyond wet Harry could barely see straight.
He slid into you again, but then his cock slipped out for the second time and he grew frustrated. Harry didn’t want to slow down, so a change of position seemed like the best thing to do.
He suddenly let go of your arms but was quick to slide his hand between your neck and the bedding and pull your head back by wrapping your throat in the crease of his elbow. He helped you up until your back was to his chest, one hand on your hip for stabilisation while he basically choked you with his other arm.
The new position had you choking on your own breath and grabbing onto his forearm in reflex. It was just so much deeper and made his cock feel like it was stretching you out so much further. With his mouth pressed to your ear whispering filthy words too… you were losing it.
“Touch your clit for me, won’t you sweetheart? Wanna feel your sweet little pussy come around me” he encouraged, grabbing your hand and forcing it down until your fingers were pressed to your clit.
“Fuck” you gasped, thighs shaking as you began rubbing little circles over your clit. Your whole body was becoming overwhelmed with sensations yet you loved every second of it.
“Fuck is right isn't it?” he chuckled, “I just fuck you so good don’t I? So good all you can do is moan and swear and squeeze that tight cunt around me like I own it. Like I own your pleasure, control your pleasure. No man or woman will ever make you feel like this again, I can guarantee it”
“Fuck you and f-fuck your s-stupid dick” you tried to say it confidently, but you were so fucked out that it just sounded sad. It was a pathetic attempt at regaining control and you both knew it.
“Can’t even talk can you, because you know the truth. I fuck you good and you love it”
You hated him. Truly. Because he was right.
He wasn’t just ‘half decent’, or even ‘decent’, he was fucking incredible. So incredible, it barely took two more minutes before you were feeling your orgasm start to build up inside again.
“Oh I can feel it already, sweetheart. Can feel your pretty little pussy squeezing around me. You gonna cum already?”
“Uhuh, oh God. Yes!” You cried, hand shaking as you tried to bring yourself to another orgasm.
And Harry just encouraged it. He whispered encouragements in your ear and just fucked you so damn good you were crying out his name for the second time tonight.
“That’s it. Good fucking girl, fucking-Jesus fuck”
He finished soon after, stilling inside you and holding you close before he pulled out and guided you both down to the bed. You just laid there panting. Both naked and staring at the ceiling like neither of you could believe what just happened.
It was like there was this moment of clarity once you two got over your highs, like that post-orgasm clarity kicked in and you were suddenly regretting everything that just happened. Harry got up at some point to discard his condom then came straight back and laid down beside you still stark naked.
Harry clearly didn’t care about his body, which was fine considering it was basically perfect. You, however, were suddenly feeling way too vulnerable being naked beside him.
“That was a mistake” you breathed, getting up quickly to find where your clothes were thrown around the room.
It was hard to find anything when Harry’s bag had been kicked off the bed at some point and his clothes were strewn across the room, but you managed to find your dress first, so you headed there and tried to control the slight limp in your walking on the way.
That fucker. Fuck him and fuck his stupid dick.
“I’m not feeling very regretful. Feel quite satisfied actually” Harry hummed, tucking one hand under his head while the other rubbed his belly. “I’m quite hungry though. How do you feel about a cheeseburger?”
“A cheeseburger? A cheeseburger!? You’re fucking ridiculous!” you exclaimed, “We have dinner booked in-where is my phone?” you muttered to yourself, spotting your bag and blazer near the door and beelining for it so you could check the time. “We have dinner booked in… oh great. An hour ago.”
Your phone was littered with calls and texts of concern, some from your boss and others from your coworkers. It sent a huge hit of panic through you, even more when you turned your phone off and caught sight of your ruined makeup in the reflection of the black screen.
Great… just great.
You let out a loud groan while Harry just looked at you amused, still butt fucking naked. He seemed to be keenly interested in the room service menu, flicking through like you didn’t have a reservation booked somewhere.
You were an hour late, yes. But it was dinner and drinks so maybe you could still make it?
“What are you doing!? Get up! It’ll take five minutes for me to fix my makeup then hopefully they’re still on drinks and appetisers. We can still make it.”
Harry didn’t move though and just set the menu down on his chest. “Do you actually want to go? We’re already an hour late and this room service looks really good”
“And say what? Oh, sorry we’re late we were too busy fucking and lost track of time!?” you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him expectedly.
“Noo, though that would be a funny conversation wouldn’t it?” he chuckled to himself. His lack of care for the situation just bugged you even further. “Food poisoning. We got some food delivered when we got to our room and it was bad. So now you’re vomiting in a bucket and I’ve stunk out the bathroom. See? Perfect. And I’ve even given you the more ladylike food poisoning option”
You scrunched your nose at his offer and his excuse. Did you really want to spend an entire night alone with Harry?
“Come onnn y/n. We’ve tasted each other’s genitals, I’m sure we can share a meal without killing each other” he grinned and sat up, patting the spot beside him on the bed. The way he referred to your oral sex just made you shiver, but you knew he was just doing it to piss you off even further.
You supposed he was right… and to be honest, all you wanted to do was shower and get into pyjamas after that intense round of sex. You couldn’t think of anything worse than heading downstairs for a company dinner when Harry just fucked you and called you a whore.
“Fine. But I call first dibs on the shower and you’re cleaning the room while I’m in there”
“Deal” he agreed instantly, not a hint of reluctance in his tone.
You looked at him a little suspiciously at how fast he agreed to your terms but decided to just leave it to grab some clothes and head to the bathroom. Once you were in there, a new term popped up in your head.
Summery: Harry and Y/n have always been life long friends. A friendship that fell apart with his fame, but came back with hers.
From the moment they knew what a friend was, it seemed that Harry and Y/n had been that. Two friends who spent each and every second together. Sharing crayons in pre-school. Harry’s red wax scribbled on a thin sheet of paper to Y/n’s deep blue. Together they made purple.
They always shared, without realizing they did. Always so giving to one another, so gentle. They held each other closely, never alone. Always one step to the side of the other.
In elementary school, Y/n shared the sweetest candies with Harry when his mother insisted on packing healthy foods to help him grow up strong. Always letting him pick off what he wanted first before taking her share of the sweets. A smile plastered on their faces and chocolate smeared across their cheeks.
By middle school Y/n was buying all her shirts a few sizes too large. A habit she picked up so Harry could borrow anything he wanted, just as she had done to him. Raiding his clothes each sleepover and keeping them until he all but took them back. Something he said he found slightly annoying, but the redness on his cheeks and the guilty pleasure of seeing her in his clothes was nice. Only dueling his little kid crush on her. Nothing they had was ever just theirs. It always connected right back to the other but neither of them minded. They completed each other in so much more than materialistic ways. While a shared shirt or a worn down crayon box was a nice reminder of their invisible tie on one another, their constant presence and kindness that was reflected special for one another really completed them. Each becoming the better half of the other in their eyes. Something that was rare and so pure.
High school was the first ending between them. Each day spent together, hours dedicated to hearing Y/n’s laugh and Harry’s horrible jokes that she adored for reasons nobody else could quite get like she did. Homework was copied, tests were failed and tears were shed all on his bedroom floor like they always had been. And they remained together. It was their graduating year that Y/n gave Harry his final gift, one that neither had thought to be the last. Y/n had signed Harry up for X-Factor. A competition Anne and her had always encouraged him to apply for as he had such a raw talent. Harry believed that they were only saying that because they loved him, but Y/n believed he was the best singer in the world.
He went on the show. The Styles family excited waiting backstage in the T-shirts Y/n had made. Showing support even when she wasn’t allowed to be there. A touch only the family would know existed until the end of time.
By the time Harry was placed into a boyband, inching closer and closer to the end of the competition, it seemed he was growing more and more into someone you’d only ever read about in the latest edition of Vogue. His boyish demeanor never changing and his kindness strong, but his time diminishing quicker than anyone could’ve bet on.
So Harry no longer had time to be with Y/n ever minute anymore. No longer dedicating hours on his floor, back aching almost as hard as his cheeks from his smile. No longer joking about everything under the sun with her, no longer taking her shirts and trading off his as a fair deal. It all ceased to exist. And Y/n faded away into obscurity. Falling far from her role as Harry Styles’ best friend and into only his origin story.
………………………………………………………………………………..
One Direction was over. Whether the world chose to accept it or not. The promised return after the break becoming more and more obvious as one that fell through as the years continued to roll on.
It was always hard for Harry, being on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, he had grown to be self sufficient over the last decade. Learning how to do things on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle it, it was that he had never mastered liking being alone. Always longing for a companion. Someone he could share everything with. Someone he could count on to laugh at even his worst jokes. Not just to humor him, but because they believed he was the funniest person on the planet. Someone that could give as much as he did. Someone who didn’t mind sharing.
Someone like her.
Over the years, Harry always thought about her. The reminiscent sound of her laughter still new and familiar to his ears. Something that he vowed to never forget. She always loved his jokes. Eyes constantly crinkled and teeth showing.
She gave too. Gave everything she ever owned to him in a joint custody. An unwritten rule between them. That no object was nearly as important as they were to each other. No job, no paycheck, no ranking in education could ever mean more than they did to each other. Harry still had some of her shirts. Bowie, Mercury, Buckley, Nicks. All the greats spread across some of his favorite shirts.
Everything about her was his favorite. Even after all this time. He’d had four boys to call his best friends all these years. Everyday spent together, bunk beds under one another and socks mixing together in their laundry loads, but nothing ever shared in the same way he had with her. His love for them not the same as it was for her.
That sense of loneliness always lingering in the back of his mind. Maybe a tinge of regret. He always wished he hadn’t let himself get pulled away from her. Maybe then she would be there, laughing with her head in his lap, mouth muffled against the denim on his thighs as she rolled around, holding her stomach and warning him that she just might piss herself.
Maybe they could’ve become more. Her hand in his and his lips on hers. A daydream he used to think about in middle school. One that faded away as his crush had. But now he would never see her again. Never hear her laugh or know how her smile changed with her age. He bet that it was just as beautiful, if not more. Just as welcoming. Just as genuine. But he would never know, as Harry had no idea were she was, where she had gone. Her phone number belonging to someone else now and all social medias deactivated and unused. She had truly slipped from his life, only to remain a wonderful memory. Until recently.
Like some unworldly creature had been guiding him, watching him and helping him, Harry had found her. It wasn’t in person, by any means. Her physical presence still as empty as it had been these past years. The loneliness still lingering and the regret still as sharp. But he had seen her. And everything he had ever wondered about her had been true.
For there she was, her face looking out an older looking window, surrounded by some of the biggest names. Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet, Saoirse Ronan. There was his beautiful Y/n, the girl who always dreamed of Broadway and movies was on the movie poster for the new adaptation of Little Women.
Something about it felt so right. The way she aged like fine wine, looking just as youthful as she did in her later teen years now even in her mid twenties. The way she had made it into a large project, something she always dreamed of, and something Harry had always wanted for her as well. A accomplishment that she deserved more than anyone. That and the knowledge that her name, Y/n Y/l/n was scribbled under the quiet, yet kind character, Beth. Someone Harry believed fit her perfectly. As to him, Y/n was the best of anyone he’d ever loved. Even all these years later, Harry still believed she was something of an angel that was sent straight from heaven just for him. The better parts of him and the even better parts of her beside him for what should’ve been eternity, but were taken away without reason.
He tried not to be weird when he passed it. Trying with all his willpower to not stop and stare for an uncontrollably long amount of time. Yet, his feet grew heavier with each step by until he fell to a stop. Mouth opened slightly and eyes sparkling with joy and wonders. He looked like a young boy again, excited over something short of Christmas in his eyes. The best gift of all had been granted to him, the knowledge that his best friend was doing just fine.
Harry was quick with his fan girl natures over her. Sneaking a quick photo underneath his coat sleeve and turning his brightness down to such an aggressive dimness that only he could quite see what was on his screen. His fingers wandering away from the photos app and searching her name, trying to find anything out about her.
Y/n Y/l/n. A twenty five year old actress who had stared in a handful of critical acclaimed films now, and earned spots on a few well established television shows. How could Harry have not known? Had he really been so caught up in himself that he couldn’t see his old friend rising to a similar status as his? How could he have not known she was in so many different projects, many he had even planned to watch himself. How could he have been so blind to his Y/n, who had been just a few steps away from his reach, who had continued to stay by his side all while he thought she was somewhere far away?
It seemed almost absurd, the whole situation. Someone who was so involved in the media not knowing about a very popular actress, who just so happened to be his best friend. But it was true. Harry barely spent time on social media anymore, not enjoying it the same as he did in the band. And his feed was mainly just his new friends, any posts of other celebrities unseen. Deep down, Harry knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. How could he have? There was no way to ask her, no way to reach her. But even then, he felt that the drifting was his fault to begin with.
He wanted to blame it on his tour schedule and his long studio hours he spent locked away from the real world in order to create something he loved. But in reality, Harry could only feel selfish. Selfish that he couldn’t even be bothered to pay enough attention to the rest of the world to see what was always there.
He tried not to overthink it, letting it slip into the back of his mind as he geared up for promotions and lavish parties that tumbled his way, schedule too full to be worried about someone who had probably already forgotten those years and their secrets. Someone who had probably stopped caring long ago. And so even as the thought sat in the back of his mind, Harry did what he always had. Shoving himself into his work until the rest of the world and his worries melted into a nothingness.
………………………………………………………………………………….
It had been the night of a Gucci event. Something so prestigious to the outsider, but to Harry seemed more tame compared to the other events he was being dragged to. One that he could relax at knowing he had some familiar faces being in attendance.
He had worn his nicest suit. A simple white set with a ribbed tank top underneath. Pink sunglasses large on his face, but in a way he managed to make it look good. Hair tamed but free at the same time. To say he looked good was an understatement. Because Harry looked damn good, and he felt it too.
Not only had his appearance been a confidence booster, but the immediate finding of some of his friends helped to ease his mind from the pain of small talk. He had gone over lines he would say to new people, wanting to make friends and be kind, but felt more calm around those who already knew him.
It went smoothly, at first. His posture slightly slouched and drink held loosely in his hand. Eyes glued to the circle of people that had formed in the corner of the large room.
He felt comfortable, at ease with the whole night. It seemed that even in the beginning of the event he could see how it would end. With the professionalism fading away the deeper everyone grew into their drinks, and he would slip upstairs with a smaller group to do some questionable things, forget he did them in the morning and regret it while he was over the toilet by the afternoon.
A hot mess he would’ve taken any day over the hot mess Harry was about to become.
If he could’ve shattered his glass without facing consequences of it, he would’ve. Harry would’ve broken the glass and stared as hard as possible if it were acceptable. But it wasn’t, so when the all too familiar laughter, the same one that he could recognize anywhere as if it were one he still heard everyday just barely made it to his ears, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing and his eyes from widening.
Just beyond Alessandro, someone Harry had worked with in the past and was comfortable enough to call a friend with, was the one woman who haunted him innocently as a ghost.
At first he believed he was seeing things. His drink could’ve been spiked, for all he knew. He could’ve had one too many, even if he was only two drinks in and was nowhere near a lightweight after all his teen years conditioning to stomach the drink. But with the soft rub of his knuckle to his eyes and a few clear blinks, he could see it was true.
She glowed, standing out even in a room full of the most well known names. Her hair straightened until it was absolutely pin straight, the front pieces slicked back behind her ears into a sleek look. Her clothing similar to Harry’s, ironically. She wore a suit as well. The fabric the same shade of white and her face wearing glasses just as big. The inside the same shade of orangish-pink, the rims thick and black. A classic look that was perfect in her fact.. The only thing that seemed different was the fact that Harry had worn a tank top beneath his suit coat. She had a white vest underneath hers. One that acted as her shirt, and made her look that much better. She even had the same lazy grasp on her drink that Harry had on his.
She had been talking to someone Harry hadn’t recognized when he spotted her. Laughing at something the other woman had said genuinely before beginning her goodbyes. Her hands laying over the older woman’s gracefully and her head tilting down to excuse herself. How ironic that Harry would catch her slipping away, just as she had watched him do all those years ago.
Watching her walk away felt like his leaving all over again, and something snapped inside of Harry.
All these years of wondering, of regret and wishing that she was there had finally built up enough to make him forget that he was meant to stay and mingle. Make himself look good for future promotion of his upcoming album, Fine Line.
“Excuse me, sorry. I have to use the bathroom.” Harry hadn’t meant to be rude, but his eyes just couldn’t slip away from her fleeting frame, hands stuffed in her pocket and hair flying behind her.
His footsteps were rushed and quick, the warmness of the party turning into the darkness of the night the closer he got to the exit. Front door still wide open and the streets abandoned. Paparazzi not yet lined up on the sidewalks. He could see it now.
His broad shoulders had brushed another’s in his panicked state, soft sorry’s exchanged and his eyes becoming forced away from the only person in the room that seemed important in the moment.
The air was cold and with each heavy breath Harry could see a faint puff of his own breathe in front of him. He had lost sight of her quick, in his incident inside. His focus only lost for a beat, but long enough for the girl to slip away into the night like a ghost. It was only when he’d turned the corner, feet planted and chest heaving underneath a flickering lamppost that he saw her. The elegant woman smiling and thanking the driver whose car she’d began to get into.
He wanted to scream, to call out her name. Yell at her to stay, beg her to recognize him. But all that came from his lips was a heavy silence. Harry realized he hadn’t rehearsed what he should say to her. How do you speak to someone who knows you in and out after drifting so far apart and losing everything you once loved about each other? How do you reconnect? It was much too late to think about that, even in his jumbled mess of a head, he let his head speak.
“Y/n!” It came out staggered. Out of breath and winded from rushing out to get to her before she left. Feet heavy again on the pavement, goosebumps aggressive underneath his smooth suit. He was hell for leather in this moment, desperately trying to reach her.
His attempt was poorly timed, and just as they had all those years ago, the pair had slipped out from each others grip without realization of what was happening. Neither of them at fault, the only thing to blame was the lack of awareness that seemed to hurt them each and every time.
Y/n drove off in the opposite direction, oblivious to who had been shouting for her, who had been all but on his knees, begging for her to come back so they could see each other again. It looked pathetic, and he felt just as much. But Harry would much rather feel pathetic than regretful. A feeling it seemed the universe ordered him to continue feeling.
………………………………………………………………………………….
Y/n never knew what happened that night, and maybe she never would. It was ironic, and all together idiotic that the pair, who had always been so in sync with each other had fallen out of it.
If there was one thing for certain that they still had, and would always have, it was the known fact that no matter where they were pushed or pulled, they could never stay apart for too long.
With each new release of an episode from some corny, yet brilliant series or the premieres of a highly anticipated film, it only became more and more apparent that she would forever be a name cemented into Hollywood pop culture. The crowds of paparazzi and cheerful fans lining the exit to each shop she visited usually only furthering it. Her presence at lavish and exclusive events becoming something that was regular.
So it wasn’t out of the blue that Y/n would be spending her night at yet another gathering. Yelling and dancing with another well established name in Hollywood, and one of her good friends at some random celebrities party. The lights blinding her and the music way too loud. That was the one thing that had changed over the years, with her status in the world.
Y/n used to adore this kind of thing. The constant moving, the sweat and the coolness of a hard drink soothing the intense heat of a club. She loved being social, partying only to regret it in the morning.
It wasn’t that Y/n had become dull, no quite the opposite. Y/n was always the life of every party. The one starting the stupid drinking games and cracking way too many jokes, laughing hard at the ones being told. It was the fact that everything was just so fast paced. Waking up too early and going to bed too late, Y/n longed for those quiet nights alone more and more. Loving being able to curl up with a friend or two and just enjoy the night intimately. Something she’d always loved, but something that she had grown to love even more now.
Still, she let herself be persuaded into nights like tonight, three drinks in before midnight and makeup smudged in rockstar kind of way. She had glitter over her eyelids and a devilishly lustful smile painted across her face. The alcohol bringing out the flirt within her.
So she let herself grind up against the man she had come with. No one more than a friend to her, but someone she trusted enough to let loose with. Someone with the same mindset as her.
And with her head thrown back against his shoulder, hands running down his neck and his fingers pressing into her hip bones firm, it seemed like nothing else in the world would matter. Maybe the headlines would be crazy if someone caught them being so scandalous, being so free, or maybe no one would care. A risk that was all too fun, all too familiar.
The laugh she let out was one of pure joy, eyes snapping open and head leaning back up. She slowed, stepping away from her friend. His eyes opened too, missing the feeling of her body on his. She waved her hand, signaling she was okay, always one step ahead, already expecting his worried expression and questions.
“I just need to sit for a minute, sorry.” She downplayed it, acted like she was only getting tired when in reality, the whole room was spinning at a forty five degree angle. Her brain mush and lipstick wearing down from its crisp red to a smudged pinkish color.
She found a home in a well worn leather couch, tucked away in the back of the room. The music still loud but the lights not as intense. She could feel herself finding her grounding all while the leather stuck to her thighs and swallowed her into a comfortable slump.
Eyes heavy, she swore she could’ve fallen asleep. She would’ve let herself too, if it were not for the all too familiar voice that just passed her by.
Even with the music pounding and the distant ringing that was leaving her ears now, she could make out the faint conversation, catching the ending of, “-so maybe in December? I’ll be home by then and we can totally try!” It was all so enthusiastic and light. The accent not too strong but present. One that was similar to hers. She was sure she knew who it belonged to, and in her curiosity, everything he assumed was true.
There, only a few feet from where she sat, she caught a glimpse of those all too recognizable green eyes. Ones that seemed fake, like contacts but were deeper and less intense the closer you looked. A deep green. Emerald even. And his dimples just as deep.
She rubbed her eyes, glitter residue on her knuckles. Blinking hard and swallowing, she squinted. Was she dreaming?
No, she decided. He was there. In the middle of a sea of people, just as youthful and energetic as she remembered. It felt sort of bitter, seeing him now. How after all these years of nonstop thinking of him, there he was. Easily accessible and closer than she could’ve wished. Y/n practically drank up his appearance. He was just as beautiful as the day he left. It was emotional, weirdly enough. Everything rushing back. How now, they had spent more time apart than together probably. The distance killing her slowly all while he lived a good life. She wondered if he thought of her like she did of him. If he missed her like she missed him. She wanted to know.
So, pushing herself up by her knuckles, leaving a trail of glitter, Y/n weaves between the crowd. His name on the top of her tongue, eyes blinking rapidly to drown out the lights shining down. Flashing and moving too quick.
He was moving, fast. Walking with a friend of a friend, a taller man who looked about the same age but gave the vibe that mentally, he was more mature.
“Harry!” She shouted, her voice falling mute to the loud music and side conversations. A hand found her wrist, pulling her away from him, just as she almost broke away from the crowd. As she almost reached him.
“I thought I lost you, dude!” Tom had joked, his voice loud and light. Y/n turned her gaze away from where Harry stood for a moment, making sure it was really her friend that had her in his hold. And only after seeing his curly hair and half buttoned up shirt did she look back.
Her gaze was met with the emptiness of the space where her old friend once resided. Frantically, she searched from where she stood idly, but he had gone quicker than he had came. Almost like in her tipsiness, he was a figment of her imagination.
But she was sure he was real, she could feel it. She hoped it too. Y/n eventually managed to unstick her eyes from the blank space, finding her attention locked on Tom’s lopsided smile and his heaving chest. She allowed a smile to spread across her cheeks, letting go.
Even then, while playing pretend and seeming like everything was fine, in her head she couldn’t quite enjoy the night the same, mind clouded by what could’ve happened, what could’ve been. And in that moment it felt like the wound of missing him had torn again, cutting deep into her chest and causing a shut down in her heart.
The rest of the night would only be spent in the ways she had expected it to when it started. With her drunk, glitter everywhere and lips smudged. What she hadn’t expected was the regret of not trying harder to reach out to Harry and letting him get away again to be so strong in her mind.
The wishes that he was still there no longer just lingering thoughts. Selfishly, Y/n began to pretend that Tom was Harry, the drunker she got. His name almost slipping past her lips while they danced.
………………………………………………………………………………….
The air was crisp, the moon high. Even the softest breath could be seen, exposed in the cold December evening. The lampposts lights shining a translucent yellow that stretched across the pale pavement.
It was quiet, at this time of night. Late enough that the world was toeing a line between early morning and the latest parts of night. The clock inching closer to midnight with every passing second.
The world was asleep, the only sounds emitting into the once busy streets in the outskirts of London being the faint rustling from inside the twenty four hour pharmacy, the sharp crunch of hardening snow beneath his feet and the soft melodies that filled Harry’s earbuds, swallowing him into a world of his own. He had forgotten a few things at the market on his way home, and knew if he didn’t get them now, his future self would scold him for it in the early morning.
So there Harry was. He walked with his head down, one hand stuffed so tightly in his pocket, the warmth of the small enclosed space causing the palm to sweat a little, even in the cold. His other hand wrapped firmly around his phone, he searched his playlist for another song, wanting to find the perfect one to encapsulate this moment, cement the beauty of an untouched snowfall on the deserted streets of one of his favorite places.
“Umph!” It was muffled, when it fell against his ears. Music blasting still. Almost so quiet that he could have missed it, if not for the confirmation someone else was now with him with the very clear contact his body had made with another’s.
Harry let his hands tug at the wire leading to his ears, putting a pause to the noise that had swallowed him while for a moment. Ready to form some sort of short apology and be on his way, he took the chance to look up in search of the others eyes.
But what Harry found was something short of what could only be described as some sort of destiny.
Mirroring him, her hand stuffed into one pocket and the other pausing the music that had also seemingly taken her consciousness briefly, stood an old friend. One that haunted him every night, it seemed. Ever since his discovery of her.
“Y/n?” He meant to apologize, he really did. But in that moment he remembered having uttered her name too late all those nights ago, so it seemed that his heart was desperate to get it out in time now. Get her attention and never lose it again.
Her face was one that reflected his own. Eyes flickering up from her phone, mid-stuffing it into the empty pocket, headphones hanging down by her waist. And as hers met his, the whites surrounding the irises grew just as the slight parting of her mouth did. She looked equally as shocked as she did happy, in that moment. The circle of her mouth curling into a slight smile.
“Harry.” She breathed out, sounding breathless, he had taken it away. Seeing him that close, something Y/n had dreamed about for years, felt surreal. She could reach out and touch him, now. That’s how close they were. Like old times.
Harry took the time to inspect her before saying anything else, wanting to take her in a moment longer. Her shoes were just as well loved as all pairs of hers were. And her jeans were just as worn in as the deep blue puffer jacket that just about swallowed her whole in its size. One that had a slight tear in the left sleeve and ripped up fabric on the zipper. One Harry recognized to be his own.
Knowing Y/n had kept the jacket, after all these years, and even still wore it sent something through his body. An electric shock, his heart beating faster, body suddenly getting hot in all these layers. He felt good, seeing her still proudly showing off things that were his, but guilt soon took over.
What if she had only kept it because it was the only thing left to remind her of him? The only thing he had left for her? She wouldn’t have needed to keep it if he had been around. Had stayed by her side like they had dreamed about. His hand in hers.
“Is that my coat?” Harry felt stupid that, that was the question he thought of to break the silence. He could’ve asked her how she’d been, or what she was doing in London, but instead his mind stayed stuck on his jacket, a detail only he would ever realize was so intimate.
She blushed, at his question, looking down briefly as if she had no idea what she was wearing. Downplaying it in her own embarrassment.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want it back. I found it in my closet when I was packing my stuff.” Y/n flashed the warmest smile she could, one that hit directly at Harry’s heart.
“I can’t imagine it smelled too good.” He cracked a smile of his own now. It wasn’t the funniest joke, only one to help lift the heaviness of them meeting, but Y/n still laughed. It was quieter now that it was later and only for him to hear, but it felt just as good as it did all those years ago.
“No, it smelled good. Smelled like you.” Her eyes didn’t leave his when she said it, highlighting the unspoken fact that even after all this time apart, even after he had left her, she still thought of him fondly. She still loved him the same.
“Mm, teenage boy musk.” Harry joked again, feet starting to move, he let his hand find the small of her back, spinning Y/n so she was walking with him now. Something they’d both done half on purpose, but mostly subconsciously. Totally focused on just being beside each other again. Y/n let out a breathy laugh this time, swatting his arm playfully. Harry let out a fake groan, holding his arm even though it didn’t hurt in the slightest. And the sidewalk fell quiet, Y/n searching for what she wanted to say next.
“It smelled like vanilla. Like your old house and that bakery you used to work in. Like childhood.” She couldn’t have described it better. For every lingering scent that had stuck to the fabric in her old closet smelled like growing up. It grounded her. It reminded her that even when she got all big and well known, she always had a place back home. That she could always come back and hide away in her rocket ship bedsheets that Harry had permanently tinted blue after washing them with his.
He loved knowing that she thought of him still, he figured she would like the same.
“You know, I still have every single one of our old shirts.” Our. Not his, not hers. But our. Because that’s what they were, there’s. They shared them. Bought them with the other person in mind, shared them like they’d both bought it. Like they both owned it.
Going back to that, Harry began to realize just how right Y/n was in her description of the jacket. Even though Harry barely wore the shirts anymore, it wasn’t because he stopped loving them. No, they were just as special now as they were back then, but he hadn’t had her like he did then. He didn’t have her constantly around to stick to the shirts and remind him that they also belonged to another. Harry hadn’t worn them because they still smelled of her. Of cinnamon and strawberries. Of early morning breakfast and wet April rain. It smelled like all the places and things she’d done. It smelled like childhood. He worried that if he wore them now, he would lose that one last memory of how she smelled. Of who she was.
But now here he was, right beside Y/n, and she still smelled the same. Sweet and fresh, like she had never left. Harry was sure he smelled just the same now. His scent still vanilla and his love for baking still as strong. He hoped he smelled the same, wished he brought that same closeness to Y/n’s heart as she did to his now.
“They still smell like us.” He wanted to say they smelt of her, but he thought it might be too much. Y/n almost wished he had only said that it smelled of her, but she knew that Harry was always going to be less forward than her. Just a little bit shyer than her in his feelings.
The conversation carried away from their old relics of childhood memories and into more recent things. But the entire time, it flowed just as easy. They’d managed to catch up without really aiming to catch up. It just sort of happened throughout their conversation. Just like their friendship had started, they had shared themselves with one another, shared everything without realizing it. And in it, Harry realized he hadn’t gone to the pharmacy like he intended, but instead had walked past it. He knew that in the morning he would still need those things he’d forgotten, but he wouldn’t be mad. Because now he had something better. He had his Y/n back.
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In the next few weeks, Harry and Y/n found themselves with their phones glued to their ears. The others voice filtering through the speakers. They talked everyday again. Hours on end like they used to. They hung out in every free minute they had. Like they were always meant to. In that, they found that they had done so much more than just miss the other. They had longed and desired one another. Always wondering, always thinking about the other.
In the new time spent together, their lives intertwining once more, Y/n realized she never wanted to miss Harry again. She never wanted to loose him like she had before. Her heart had grown too fond of him to let him go. And for Harry, he remembered why he had, had such an intense crush on her when he was just a boy. It was so cheesy, how he had fallen for her so quickly again. But you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. And they had, had a lot of distance to help that grow.
So the pair became more than friends, it seemed. The best friends enlightening everyone on their long, hard road to each other, all with their hands in one another and Y/n’s lipstick staining the corner of Harry’s mouth.
Harry’s fame had taken him away, but in some sort of luck, hers had brought them back together.
Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.
And you can’t fucking stand each other.
Word Count: 2.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)
“What the hell are you still doing here?”
Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.
He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”
“I did. And then I came back.”
You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”
“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”
Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”
“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”
“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”
“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”
“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”
“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”
He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”
“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”
“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”
Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”
“I did, but I’m done now.”
“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”
“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”
“No thanks.”
Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”
“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”
“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”
You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”
He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”
“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”
He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”
“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”
He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”
“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”
His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”
“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”
His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”
“Poor girl.”
“Yeah? What about poor me?”
“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”
His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”
“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”
“Hear it all the time with you.”
“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”
“Is that right?”
“It is.”
That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.
Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.
He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.
His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.
It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.
His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.
Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.
You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.
He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”
Your lashes flutter shut.
“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”
Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.
“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”
“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”
He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”
With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.
“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”
You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.
He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else.
“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”
You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.
“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”
You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”
He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”
“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”
He grins. “Yeah?”
You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”
“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”
You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock.
You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.
Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.
He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.
You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.
Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.
You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”
He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”
And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.
The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.
“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”
“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek.
“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”
He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.
“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.
“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”
“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”
You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.
The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.
Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.
But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.
In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.
Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.
“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”
You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so.
“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”
Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.
Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.
But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.
And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.
“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”
He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.
“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”
You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.
“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”
You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.
“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”
It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.
He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.
He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.
It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up.
He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.
He smirks.
Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same.
Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.
“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”
(THE EDIT IS NOT MINE, I THINK THE @ IS ON IT, BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH, AND FULL AMAZING CREDIT TO THE CREATOR!!)
summary: in which harry comes home to yn in a bad mood and makes all of those nasty feelings go away
masterlist | harry styles masterlist | taglist
~
“cmon, petal. y’know i wouldn’t just intentionally not answer your calls,” harry grumbles, placing his hands on her hips and rubbing his thumbs over them gently. the term of endearment as well as his soft touch are already breaking down her tough exterior, but she doesn’t want to give into him just yet. when she’d called him from bed after he’d left for work, wet and ready for him to quell her desire over the phone, he hadn’t answered because of ‘an important meeting with the team’s media management’.
his eyes flit across her face and body as he takes in all of the subconscious signals she’s sending him, and when he notices her dark eyes and her thighs squeezed together just a bit as she shifts from foot to foot, realization begins to set in.
“ah, i see,” he muses, finally understanding what’s going on. “why don’t y’tell me why you were calling me in the first place. what was goin’ on?” he questions as if he’s confused, but she can see right through him and knows she’s been caught. when she doesn’t answer, he takes it upon himself to go even further, moving even closer to her. close enough that her breaths begin to quicken from the close proximity.
“just insatiable. was waking you up this morning with m’tongue on you not enough? hmm?” he’s teasing her now, one hand that’d been resting on her hip moving down to the hem of her panties as he gives her a moment to recall the earlier events.
~earlier~
“please,” yn cries, her hands tangled deep into her husband’s hair as she tries to get him as close to her centre as possible, despite his face being literally buried in her warmth. their cries are mixing together as he groans against her from both the pain and the pleasure of her hands on him, still licking and sucking all over her like a starved man.
he knows she’s close by the way her thighs have closed in on his ears and her back has started to arch, her moans much louder and drawn out than when he’d first gotten his mouth on her.
so he does the only thing that will get her there; he changes absolutely nothing about what he’s doing with his mouth. and, to no one’s surprise, she’s cumming against his mouth with a cry of his name as the orgasm wracks her body, her legs shaking on either side of his head.
he doesn’t pull away from her until she’s whining and crying from the overstimulation, her hands pushing him off of her as she tries to catch her breath. aftershocks are still shaking her body every few seconds when he crawls up from between her thighs with swollen lips, his face drenched in the evidence of her orgasm.
~now~
a soft needy whimper can be heard even through her closed mouth as she remembers the experience very well, the thoughts of the morning doing nothing to help her current situation. “i’m starting to think i married someone very selfish,” he chides, but his dimpled grin and sparkling eyes go against his words. “i didn’t even cum this morning and here you are, complaining even after i had y’crying.”
she doesn’t respond to him still, but he knows how to get a reaction out of her. so he reaches up and grabs her neck with one hand just as he lets the other breach the hem of her panties and forces her to look at him. he looks her dead in the eyes as two of his fingers delve into her soaked folds and gather some wetness before landing on her clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles around the slick bud.
he presses his lips to hers right as she starts to get vocal, swallowing her moans as he picks up the pace. he can feel her legs start to give out, signalling her orgasm, but he isn’t having that, pulling her hand out of her panties and his mouth away from hers, leaving her near tears as she tries to catch her breath.
“cmon then. go get in bed and ready f’me. i’ll be up soon,” the moment she’s given the instruction she’s making her way to the bedroom before stripping her clothes off and lying in the bed as she waits for harry. he doesn’t keep her waiting for long, and when he comes in the bedroom with his shirt off, yn swears she can cum on the spot.
when he reaches the foot of the bed she’s practically drooling as he sheds his athletic shorts and boxers, leaving her completely bare and all for her. he’s hard and leaking, making it clear that he is just as desperate for her as she is him. climbing onto the bed, he spreads her legs and hooks them onto his hips before placing a hand next to her head and using the other to line himself up with her.
then he’s sinking inside of her, one smooth slow thrust as he bottoms out. she’s so warm and wet around him he feels like he won’t last at all, but his body just takes over as he starts to move. he pulls out of her a bit just to dive back inside of her with so much force that it knocks her up the bed a bit, but he just moves right along with her. he repeats the action, and the sharp thrust causes her to gasp in pleasure, but it breaks off into a moan as he changes the angle and pushes himself deeper into her.
“that’s it, mama. taking me so well, made just for me and my cock, hm?” harry rasps, taking his time as he fucks his wife. small mewls of pleasure are now leaving her swollen lips as she attempts to catch her breath, and he’s going slow to ensure that he reaches as far inside of her as he can, but not so slow that the feeling is unenjoyable.
“so deep, please,” she’s whining now, tears welling on her waterline when he pulls out again just to slam into her once more, the slickness of their combined arousal making the whole process that much smoother. it’s as if each time he pulls out of her -just far out enough that his weepy tip is resting against her entrance- there’s some type of elastic band just pulling him back in.
“i know, angel. i know. bet you feel me right here in y’tummy, huh?” he coos, one hand moving to her stomach, right above where he thinks his cock is inside of her. he doesn’t wait for an answer as he presses down onto the soft skin, until he can feel where he’s penetrating her deeply. the concentrated furrow in his brow melts away as her soft little mewls start to morph into long, loud, and drawn out, sort of guttural moans, signalling to him that he’s done the right thing.
he keeps the firm pressure there as he picks up his pace, bringing her closer and closer to her orgasm with each thrust of his hips. not long after, he feels the all too familiar feeling of her walls beginning to flutter around him, but he’s given no time to react as she suddenly locks down on him tightly as her orgasm slams into her. the sheer force and intensity of her orgasm simultaneously triggers his, and his jaw is dropping as a choked moan leaves him from the unexpected climax.
“fuck, shit!” he gasps, feeling her cum coat his cock generously as he begins to fill her up.
spurt after spurt of his cum shoots from his cock and deep into yn, his head dropping into the crevice between her neck and shoulder as it absolutely wrecks him. his softening cock is still thrusting weakly into his wife as he floods her and a sob of pleasure falls from his lips when he feels her flutter around him again.
they ride the waves of pleasure for a little while, and the moment they’re finally down, harry gently pulls out of yn, but he makes the mistake of looking down to where they were previously connected. he can only watch in awe as his cum starts to drip out of her wrecked hole, and then she’s groaning as he holds her thighs back before lying on his stomach.
“just gonna have a little taste, angel,” he coaxes, but they both know it’s a lie because harry doesn’t ever just ‘have a little taste’ of his wife. the moment he gets his mouth on her he’s in a sort of trance until he knows she can’t take anymore. it doesn’t matter where they are or what they have planned for the day, if he gets a taste of her he can go for hours. “just fuckin’ perfect,” he whispers when he’s eye level with where she’s full of his cum and leaking.
he can’t wait any longer, and all of his resolve has flown out the window as he grips her hips and holds her down before running his tongue through her swollen messy folds. the taste instantly pulls a groan of satisfaction from his lips, the taste of their mixed arousal spurring him on. she’s already sensitive so he knows he should be quick but he just can’t, his eyes fluttering shut as his head gets floaty, he’s drunk on the taste of her. he continues for about 3 more minutes (which isn’t nearly long enough in his opinion but he’ll have to take care of that tomorrow) before she’s falling apart once more, this one rendering her silent and breathless.
she finds the energy to push him away when she can’t possibly take anymore, and he just props himself up on his elbows and watches her as she comes down, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her. when he can see that she’s back down to earth, he presses a couple kisses to her inner thighs before speaking up.
“are you up for a bath or shower tonight or should i just clean you up and we can go to bed?” he whispers, but he has a feeling that her answer will be the latter. he’s proven correctly when she speaks up and confirms his thoughts. so he gets up and goes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wet with warm water and cleans himself up before making his way back to where she still lies in the centre of the bed, fucked out and glowy. he gently spreads her legs before taking the towel to her swollen and sensitive skin, thoroughly but carefully cleaning her.
once she’s all clean, he helps her get tucked under the blankets before he’s moving back to the bathroom to put the washcloth away and heading to the kitchen yo grab her some water to drink. when he gets back he sits her up and helps her drink all that she can before placing the remaining water on the nightstand and turning the lights off before climbing into bed. the two bask in the comfortable silence for a while as sleep starts to take over them, and within minutes they’re both sound asleep.
Hey I was wondering if you had any good angst recommendations with some smut??
Holy shit, it's so difficult to name them all! Haha! Here is a list of my favorite fics (at least the ones I've had time to write down because there's a lot!)
But... I do wanna give some shout-outs to some of my top, all-time-favorite series'. These are in NO particular order, and again, there's so many that I love, so check out those other recommendations.
in my feelings - @harrystylescherry
completed series featuring famous Harry and Vogue journalist YN, an amazing story of enemies who end up having sex and catching super complicated feelings. It's crazy how chaotic these two are together but it's amazing.
wish upon a star - @mysweetestcreature
completed series about stepbrother Harry and stepsister YN, who have basically grown up together, with a taboo and secret love that nobody can know about, especially their parents.
spare parts - @around1302
completed series (definitely one of my top faves) about Harry and Charlie, who are put into a band together with 3 other guys. She hates him, and maybe he hates her, but things get complicated when they make a secret sex pact.
since 2010 series - @watermelonsugacry
ongoing series (another top fave from my love) about famous Harry and 1D bandmate YN who aren't allowed to have feelings for one another, but they do, unknown to each other until they have a very complicated, on and off again situationship. Amazing song inspos and so much detail!
the queen's secret - @gurugirl
ongoing series about royal Harry and Queen YN, who are forced into an arrangement to conceive a baby for YN's husband, the King. But of course, things get complicated quickly, and their secret love puts everything in jeopardy. This is probably the definition of angst and smut combined!
you're just someone i want around - @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
ongoing series about vampire Harry who only goes to clubs to satisfy two needs- sex and human blood. He comes across YN and everything about her begins to change everything about him, except his immortality. This isn't as angsty as some of the others but it's so smutty and so good.
mr. & mrs. hey soul sister - @freedomfireflies
completed series (from an amazing writer) about famous Harry and YN, who wake up from a drunken night to find out they got married. With Harry's reputation at stake, they try to figure out what the best course of action is, which becomes unclear when feelings get involved
You are the CUTEST??? EVER???? AND I LOVE YOU??? Thank you so much for being so nice to me and taking the time to add me and for even THINKING of me at all?? 😭💞 such a good list oh my gosh!!
Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun
You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.
And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?
Word Count: 2.1k
(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*
“Hi, Stranger.”
Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”
“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.
“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”
“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”
“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”
“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”
“What’s wrong with coach?”
“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”
“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”
You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”
Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”
“Well no shit, Sherlock.”
He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”
And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.
Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.
So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.
It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.
And then…something changes.
He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.
Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.
His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.
And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.
“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.
But you don’t want an out.
“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”
The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”
Your breath hitches.
“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”
And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his.
“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”
You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.
Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.
“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”
“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”
He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand.
“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”
Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock.
“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”
More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.
He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”
He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.
Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.
“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.
It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”
He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.
He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.
“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”
And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.
“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”
You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”
He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.
“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”
He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach.
“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”
The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.
It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?
Euphoria.
“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”
And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.
“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”
“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.
He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.
“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”
Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.
There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.
The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.
“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”
The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.
You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.
Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.
You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.
You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.
“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”
He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.
Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”
He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.
A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”
You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors.
“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”
“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”
“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”
Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure.
He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.
The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.
“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”
You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.
But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.
You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”
Which you don’t mind at all.
I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞
I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart
It had been easy keeping your holiday location a secret from fans, but somehow the paparazzi always seemed to be able to find you.
Harry’s tour had finished only days ago and now you were spending time together, relaxing and having fun. It had been hard to really dedicate time to one another when Harry had been touring every other day, but now it was time for rest.
Harry had rented a couple of small boats to drive over to a little island he had read about in one of his Italian travel books.
Now you were all arriving and soaking up the glorious sunshine, only to be rudely interrupted by the faraway lenses of the paparazzi.
Harry was on another boat, talking to James and Tyler, whilst you remained on a different boat with Gemma.
You and Gemma weren’t the biggest fans of the sun and the heat, so any opportunity to sit in the shade was taken instantly.
Gemma was sat in her pink dungarees, whilst you were sat in your yellow summers dress. The one that Harry said made you look like a summers dream.
As Gemma continued to read, you kept getting distracted by the paparazzi on a boat in the distance.
You’d never been one to really acclimatise to the constant clicking of photos. No doubt they would be focused on taking photos of Harry - especially when he’s sitting there shirtless, but part of you still remained uneasy.
“I might go and see if there’s a toilet nearby.” Gemma said, standing up and rocking the boat slightly.
You nodded, standing up too.
“I’ll go over there.” You pointed to where Harry was. “Just so I’m not alone.”
“Alright.”
Gemma wandered to the front of the boat, but before she can clamber out Harry has made his way over and is now standing at shin length in the sea.
“Y’alright Gem?” He asked and you couldn’t help but smile at how much of a gentleman he was. Always keen to help out and lend a hand.
He offered his hand for Gemma to hold and step out of the boat, which she took gladly.
“Yeah. Just going to the loo. Your missus needs company, though.”
“Oh does she now?” He turned to look at you once Gemma was out safely. He smiled brightly at you, checking you over and admiring how much you were glowing in the Italian sun.
Gemma kissed Harry on the cheeks before leaving.
Harry then jumped the boat and you bit your lip to hide a laugh when he nearly lost his footing. The idiot was trying to show off, not that he had to for you.
“Y’need me, do you?” he asked, walking over to you where you were still standing in the shade.
“Didn’t want to be sat here like a loner. I’d have been like that one photo of Taylor where she’s sat on the back of a boat by herself.”
Harry laughed at that, finding his arms wrapping around you to pull you in for a hug. He squeezed tight and you sighed into his warm chest. His hugs were always the best. Like your own personal teddy bear.
“Never would let you feel lonely, baby.” He kissed your head.
“I know.” Your lips kissed his chest as you spoke, due to how smushed against him you were. “Have you put suncream on?”
“Yes.” Harry whined.
“Oi, I’m just making sure you still look appealing when we’re older and not some wrinkly ball sack.” You explained, making Harry laugh again.
“Is that all I’m here for? Huh? Appeal for you?”
You tilted your head back to face up at him. “I thought you knew that already.”
Harry squinted his eyes and shook his head at you playfully.
What’s worse is that he brought his large hand down to your bum and gave it a pinch through your dress. The moment only lasted a second, but it was enough for you to step away and push him off of you.
“Harry, don’t.” You said sternly.
Harry knew you meant it too, because you used his actual name and not some other endearment.
“Hey, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He said.
You sat down where you had been sitting before and huffed. You ran your hands over your face and tried to breathe slowly.
“No, i’m sorry.” You shook your head.
“What for?” Harry was confused. He sat down next to you, but made sure you had your own space until he knew what he was in for.
“I noticed the paparazzi here before and now I’m just paranoid. I mean, y’know I don’t deal well with them.”
Harry looked around you and only then noticed the small boat of about five photographers. Luckily he was wearing sunglasses to hide his dark stare, but he was severely pissed that they were here. Invading his private time.
What’s worse is that they were making his girlfriend uncomfortable.
“Hey, look at me. Y/N, honey. C’mere.” He twisted your legs to dangle over his and moved your body so that your back was to the paparazzi. “I’m here. Just us.”
You looked at him and noticed how he was only focused on you. You reached to move his sunglasses and pulled them down for a second to look at his eyes. His pupils were dilated slightly with the look of love he had for you. You pushed his glasses back up and settled in closer next to him.
“Just us.” You nodded.
Even though it wasn’t just you and the paparazzi would be taking photos of this moment no doubt, including the one of Harry pinching your bum, it was settling to know that Harry was here and he was doing this with you.
“Screw them. If I want to touch my girlfriend in public, I will.” You gave him a look. “W-with consent of course.”
You laughed then. “Harry I don’t care when, how, why you touch me. I.. I just… Let me know beforehand if we’re in public settings or if the paps are around. Please?”
“Promise.” He nodded seriously.
“Love you.” You reached for his hand and held onto one of his fingers with your entire hand. His hands are massive compared to yours - something the fans are always pointing out and crying over.
“Love you too.” He encompassed your hand with his and rubbed small circles into the back of your hand.
A/N: i had to, i just couldn't not write something about this picture
WORD COUNT: 1.3k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry has been nothing but professional when it came to you, but the short skirt you wore to the office seems to crumble his whole act finally.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
After basically murdering the treadmill with his deadly tempo, now it’s the punching bag that’s suffering from Harry’s frustration. He came down to his private gym with the pure intention of getting rid of the images that haunted him all day, but the more energy he is putting into his workout, the less he feels in control of his wandering thoughts. It’s completely insane.
He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. He’s been successful at keeping his fantasies tame even though the day he interviewed you for his assistant position he definitely wanted more from you than just your professional help, but he pushed it all into the back of his head, but today changed it all.. He knows that he is your boss and you’re his assistant and that the fantasies he’s been fighting all day are definitely way over any boundaries between employer and employee.
But fuck, that short skirt you wore today is to blame for it all!
He has seen you in outfits that appeared a tad bit riskier than your usual office attires, but nothing got his imagination rolling like the short, tight little skirt that hugged your curves today. The moment you walked in with his morning coffee in your hands and his eyes snapped from his phone to your legs, the thoughts that evaded his mind were nothing but obscene. Filthy.
He even had to hide his erection while you went through his schedule for the day, walking back and forth in front of his desk, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you and remembered absolutely nothing of what you said. He had to pretend to take a phone call to get you out of his office so he could calm himself down enough to start working, but the fantasies stayed with him all day.
He throws another punch into the bag and it’s so hard it almost flies off the hook. Harry groans as he catches the bag and stops it from swinging around. This is not working, it seems like with each punch he just pushes you more and more into his consciousness and he fears he won’t be able to get you out of there. How is it that he is still so hung up on the images his brain has created? They are not even real, but the feelings they are causing are for sure.
Your silky looking legs are still walking around in his mind as he starts punching the bag again. But then you’re suddenly sitting on top of his desk… your skirt is riding up, exposing your round ass… he can see you bent over the desk, begging for him to touch you… your naked pussy is now right in front of him, so wet, so sweet, he wants to devour you and–
His punch gets out of control and this time the bag actually falls off the hook.
“Damn it!” he groans, sweat dripping down his face as he gets rid of his gloves and just throws it at the bag, leaving the mess untouched. Walking out he heads to the bathroom and he is quick to fill up the tub with ice and water. This is his last chance. He needs to ice his fantasies before they get way out of hand and become a problem.
Harry strips out of his clothes and with a series of curse words he gets into the water, the ice immediately practically burning his skin. It’s like Hell.
He loves it, in a weird, masochist way.
Normally he would only spend about a minute in the tub, but this time he knows he needs more. Slowly, his body cools down, his muscles loosen up and finally… his mind starts to clear out.
It’s blank. No thoughts. No feelings. But the blissfulness doesn’t last long.
His phone is beside the tub and it chimes from a text, the sound breaks the silence and he exhales sharply as he reaches for the phone, thinking it might be his mother or sister with something silly. But then as he looks at the screen, he loses his head again.
Your smiling face is shown next to a text in the notification.
“Don’t forget, you have an early meeting tomorrow morning with Jackson Morgan.”
It’s a simple, innocent, work-related thing, you’ve sent reminders like this before, but this time… it’s not that simple.
The fantasies flood back into his mind in a split second and not even the ice cold water can keep his body cool and calm. In a blink of an eye, he is hard again.
“Shit, shit, shit!” he jumps out of the water, his cock shamelessly hardening with every passing second and by the time he stands under the shower, he is almost bursting.
This time, he can’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around the base. With his eyes closed, one hand planted onto the tiled wall, the other one impatiently jerking himself, he gives in and lets even his dirtiest thoughts take over for once and for all, hoping he just needs to get you out of his system somehow.
You, on his desk, your back arching from the top as he pounds into you.
You, bent over his desk, your ass perched up into the air, begging to be spanked and fucked.
You, sitting on his lap while he sits in his leather chair, kissing up his neck, riding him like a good girl.
You… you… you…
He imagines you in every possible position he could ever think of. All of his filthiest, most outrageous thoughts finally burst out of the box he’s kept them in in the back of his mind all this time and he just simply can’t stop until he finally finds his release.
Normally he likes to take his time not just when he’s with a woman but when he is pleasuring himself, he loves the teasing, the edging, he is not a fan of just a quick fuck, but this time he comes way faster and harder than ever. His face is all he can think of, he can almost hear you moan his name, his fingers pulling his hair and just like that… his cum is going down the drain along with the water, his half hard cock still in his hand as he tries to regulate his breathing.
But when the pleasure worms down, shame takes its place and it’s heavy and thick.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his chest heaving as he grabs a towel to dry himself off, hoping it would rub the shame off him as well.
How will he look you in the eyes in the morning? What if you wear something short again? He will never be able to look at you around his desk and not get hard instantly, thinking of the scenes that just gave him an insane orgasm. He shouldn’t have given in, because it only provided temporary relief, but now that he has let his fantasies loose, they will never let him rest.
He is fucked. In the worst way possible.
But little does he know, that in the meantime in a small apartment that you call your home across town, you’re lying in bed, the skirt you wore to the office today thrown into the hamper, your hands between your legs, eyes rolled back into your head as you’re pleasuring yourself. Thinking about none other than your boss, taking you on his desk, letting you ride him in his chair, or pounding into you from behind while you’re watching the city through the floor to ceiling windows of his office… His hand holding a handful of your hair as he pulls on it…Fucking you like no one did before, because you haven’t been able to think of anyone else since the day he interviewed you for his assistant position…
READ PART II. NOW: ILLICIT TEMPTATION
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