Warning:contain sexually explicit content, including masturbation. Please read at your own discretion. 18+ only.
Note: English is not my first language, so please be kind with any mistakes!
The day had been so overwhelmingly stressful that all you wanted was to let go of the tension in a delicious, warm bath with Harry — like the two of you always did on hard days.
But to your bad luck, just as you got home, a message popped up from him:
> “I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t wait for me.”
You only left him on read. You didn’t want to be rude, but you weren’t exactly thrilled either. So, instead of overthinking, you decided to focus on relaxing.
The bath was filled with bath salts and softly scented candles. Your playlist of slow, sensual songs played gently in the background — your favorite vibe for moments like this. You lay in the tub, your body almost completely submerged, bubbles covering your bare skin, and a glass of wine within arm’s reach.
The music flowed through your ears like silk. The warmth, the foam, the dim lighting — it all brought a sense of peace. But ironically or not, the next song that started playing was one you knew all too well. The moment you heard the familiar deep vocals, your eyes widened.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, instantly regretting placing your phone too far away.
It was “She.”
His song.
The melody wrapped around the bathroom like Harry’s arms used to, pulling memories straight into your mind — memories of the countless times you had sex with him to this exact song… or even on top of the papers where he first wrote its lyrics.
You could still picture that day — him, so focused, sitting at the table, scribbling down verses. You had walked up behind him, kissing his neck softly, your barely-covered body pressing against his back… and then, bent over the same table, his lyrics beneath you as he fucked you senseless.
Those dirty thoughts paired with that voice — it sent a wave of heat between your legs. Your hand slid down, fingers finding your clit and circling slowly, imagining how it would feel if Harry was actually there, between your thighs. Your other hand moved up to massage your nipple the way he always did — the way only he knew how.
The more your pleasure built, the more vivid your imagination became. You pictured him lifting your hips, grabbing your thighs tightly, his warm, wet tongue trailing slowly down… until it found your clit and sucked hard, his eyes locked on yours. He loved watching you — loved seeing exactly how his touch affected you. That was his favorite part of oral: watching you fall apart.
"She, she lives in daydreams with me..."
The chorus hit, and your fingers moved faster, two of them sliding inside you now, pumping in and out. Your breath hitched.
“Harry,” you whimpered, lost in your fantasy, head tipping back, so close to the edge your toes curled.
“Yes?”
You practically jumped out of the tub.
“Fuck, Harry!” You tried to act like you weren’t caught red-handed.
“I thought you were coming home late?” you asked, face flushed with embarrassment.
“You didn’t reply to me. I figured that meant you had a rough day. So I asked Jeff to reschedule and came home,” he said, stepping closer. But his eyes… his eyes had already seen everything. The scene of you moaning his name, fingers buried inside yourself while his voice played… it was burned into his mind — in the best way.
“Ah,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed.
“You… were touching yourself?”
His voice dropped. He didn’t love the idea of you pleasuring yourself alone — unless he was watching. “Still listening to my song?”
“Yes…” you answered, a little bolder now. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Oh, you couldn’t wait just a bit longer, huh? Had to bury your fingers inside yourself for some relief.”
His voice was low, irritated — but clearly turned on.
He stepped closer, stripping out of his clothes. “Did you come?” he asked, sliding into the tub with you.
“No…” you pouted. “But in my defense, you said you’d be late. I was so tense… I wouldn’t have needed to do it if you were here.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you broke one of our rules, darling,” he said, a wicked smile curving his lips. “And you dare to talk back to me?” He leaned in, kissing a trail down your thigh, slowly… so slowly.
“Want to know what I’m going to do about it?” he whispered. “You’re only allowed to come when I say so. Got it?”
Then, without warning, his mouth was on you — licking through your folds, tongue pressing into your clit until your back arched and you cried out.
“Don’t be so mean, Harry… please,” you begged, your hands tangling in his hair, breath hitching as he sucked. “I had such a rough day… I need you so bad.”
Those pleading eyes almost broke him.
“I promise, baby,” he murmured between licks. “After this, I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want.”