Here it is, lovelies! The final part! A huge thank you again to everyone who has liked/commented/reblogged this story. Y’all are the best! Let me know what you think about the ending!
Words: 3800
Warnings: some swearing, smut(ish), fluff, Aunt Polly is a gem (and no one can convince me otherwise)
Tag List: @geekandbooknerd @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @webreathfandoms @slytherinicequeen @20th-centu-fairy-girl @kasaikawa @namelesslosers
Catch up here -> Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
The walk down Watery Lane was as familiar once again as the way to your own home, possibly even more so.
Pushing open the door to the betting shop, the sounds and smells assaulted you, bringing a smile to your face. That sharp scent of whiskey and smoke, now tinged with male sweat, was the first for you to notice. Then the sounds of people yelling numbers and calling bets came next. The upcoming weekend held a race at Cheltenham, so people were already trickling in to place their bets. You knew that come Friday, the betting shop would be swamped with people fresh from receiving their paychecks and ready to gamble it away.
Over the past eight months you found yourself coming to Watery Lane more and more often. On your days off of work, Polly had convinced you to come have tea and lunch with her, so the two of you could chat. Other days, you would swing by to drop off a stew or cake you made, much to everyone’s enthusiasm.
Somehow your life had become further entwined with the Shelby family as each month passed. A fact you did not mind. If anything, they had begun to feel like extended family, welcoming you and your sisters with open arms.
😈Corrupt-a-Wish: Tommy Shelby + cuddling in bed with Thomas Shelby during a brutal snow storm😈
“Pull the fuck over,” Tommy growls.
An unusual snowstorm has fallen upon the countryside. You won’t make it to London. You steer to the side of the road as Tommy turns the map again. He sighs and crumples it up.
“Fuckin’ Arthur,” he sneers under his breath, “keep on. Just up here to the west.”
“Where’re we goin’?” you dare to ask as you push back into gear.
“I don’t need you to ask questions, I need you to drive,” he puts his head back and swipes off his cap. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “if I didn’t have to drag my lout of a brother…”
His voice trails off as you do as he says.
That day was peculiar for more than just the snow. You didn’t plan on the drive to London but it was a last-minute improvisation. You take deliveries down to the docks, you don’t chauffeur the boss. All you know of Tommy is not to bother him.
“Here,” he points suddenly and you nearly miss the speckled white path.
You veer up the gravel and along a curving row of trees. You continue on in the silver reflection of moonlight on the gathering flakes. A small house stands beneath the drooping branch of an old walnut. You stop as Tommy orders you to kill the engine.
You have many questions but don’t ask them as he climbs out impatiently.
“It’ll do for the night,” he snarls as he puts his hat back on, “old place used to be a checkpoint when we ran liquor round here.”
You nod and trail him to the crooked door of the hovel. Without pretense, he enters and you catch the door behind him. He pulls out a cigarette and kicks the basket of logs next to the hearth. He paces the dark space and you set to lighting the fire in the old iron stove.
It casts amber light over the room as you search for a lantern or a candle among the rubble. Not much but a dirty old mattress and raggedy blankets in the corner. You rub your hands together and hold them out to the flickering flames. When you can feel your fingers again. you back away.
“We’ll need more wood,” you say plainly.
“Right,” he waves you off.
You leave and wonder how you got yourself into these things. Sure, you knew your employers were bad men but you were always just peripheral. You get an armful and shiver as you break down thicker branches for the night and head back.
You enter and find Tommy scowling on the mattress, lighting another cigarette. You stack your haul into the basket and stir the embers so the fire gets some air. You linger close and try not to be too obvious about the chill.
“All that won’t last the night,” he chatters and sucks in smoke, “when I was… in Europe, we couldn’t have fires. Not most nights. We huddled two or three to a tarp, and those were nights we weren’t being battered with mortars.” He tosses his smoke down and smothers it with his shoe, “get over here. Sooner we sleep, sooner this shit’ll clear out.”
“Sir,” you approach him as he peels back the layers of dingy blankets which he’s fixed to be as orderly as possible.
He tucks his legs under and puts his cap to the side of him as he quickly slides under. You follow suit and settle in next to him.
“Turn,” he motions with his hand and you face away from him.
Suddenly, his arm is around you and he’s snug to your back. You frown at the wall but say nothing. You couldn’t deny the warmth seeping into you.
“Right then,” he says.
The walls shake with the bellow without. You close your eyes as sleep would be better than the waking tension. You feel his breath against you and focus on your own. You feel cold creeping in beneath the edges of the blankets.
Seconds, minutes, moments you cannot count pass. The light from the fire dulls behind your eyelids as the smell of burning wood and smoke tickle your nose. It’ll die out soon enough and you expect to be up and down feeding it for much of the night.
You wince as you feel a shift. A low groan, maybe hum, from Tommy as his arm moves over you. You squeeze your eyes shut as his fingertips brush along your jacket. Seeking warmth, he unbuttons it and tucks his hand inside. You stiffen but ignore it. Sleep. It would be your only escape.
His touch ruffles your shirt and he pinches the large button at the top of your trousers, You squirm as he feels along the top of the tweed and carefully shoves his fingers beneath. You gulp at air but resist the urge to elbow him away, instead making an odd noise.
“Shhh,” he purrs along your ear, “it’ll help.”
“Mr. Shelby,” you utter.
“I didn’t ask you to talk,” he asserts as he pushes lower and his wrist draws the top of your pants taut, “but I don’t mind a bit of noise.”
summary - there’s nothing unusual about a post match celebration. but after the newcastle game, the rewards are extended to welcome a familiar face to their hotel room.
notes: written in third person for a change. some things about the match have been changed to fit better such as players and goals. sorry for any mistakes, but apart from that enjoy :)
hotties who helped and proof read - @tommyspeakycap @footballffbarbiex | send them lots and lots of love because they are enablers but i love them!
word count: 8.2k
warnings: 18+! deep throating, dirty talking, unprotected sex (use protection!) double penetration, voyeurism, anal
“I bet none of the other lads are getting rewarded like this,” John says as she slips between his open thighs. Her hands run over the tops, the muscle twitches, fingers stroking over the taut skin as her lips near the place he wants her eager mouth the most.
“Well, I guess we’ll never find out,” She exhales, pausing for a second as she makes eye contact with him for what seems like the first time in hours, “But it would be interesting to find out, don’t you think?” She goes to pull away in order to tease him even more than her words had, but a strong hand on the back of her neck pulls her back into her previous position, and his eyes project a silent yet stern warning.
After that, she doesn’t dare speak another word. The only noises that leave her lips are soft pants, soon drowned out by the groans that leave his own. He thrusts into her mouth at a quickening pace, subconsciously urged on by her statement that came out in the moment of lust. He glances down with the same darkened gaze, captivated by the way her mouth moves along his cock. Small amounts of her saliva creep out from the corners, and John doesn't hesitate to wipe it away with his thumb. She pauses yet again to allow him to slip it between her lips with a quick grunt, all before resuming the pace that has him seeing stars from the pleasure she’s providing him.
“You look fuckin’ gorgeous like this, baby,” His voice is shaky yet still firm, accent strong in the exact way that she loves, “And I love that I’m the only one who gets to see you this way.”
He’s testing her, seeing how far he can push her before she lets slip another word about an unspoken proposition. But she knows better than that, simply humming in response with his cock still deep in her throat, tongue circling the head as mascara tinted tears run down her cheeks and smear her once perfectly applied makeup. The vibrations from her throat make their way through John’s body, becoming the driving force to quicken the pace of his thrusts. She can feel him contracting in her throat and she knows that he’s close. Normally, she’d urge him on. But this is his reward for his goal, so she keeps silent and waits in anticipation for him to spill over.
Taking him deeper to give him the last push, her instincts pay off when she feels his hands tangle in her hair, a deep moan emitting from his own throat as he lets go in her mouth. Yet she doesn’t pull away, lips still around him as he rides out his orgasm, pleasure overtaking his body as she feels his shaking legs push down harder against the mattress. She swallows without a second thought, as was usual in their routine, opening to show him her empty mouth as he leans down to kiss her softly.
His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her down onto the bed with a gentle tug. A small, “I love you,” leaves his mouth as she settles her head on his chest, breath still coming in pants as she slowly pulls herself up to face him.
“I love you too, John.”
She opens her mouth to say something more, but quickly backs away from the idea. John notices her reluctance to speak again, but he pushes it to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be overthinking on a night like this. They’ve just won seven goals to nil, and his name is on the scoresheet for the first time this season. Why should he complain?
But the thoughts continue to plague his mind long after she’s dropped off beside him, arm draped over his chest as he continues to trace circles on her hand despite the small snores that leave her lips. A part of him wishes that she had said more. Maybe he’s over-analyzing it, but the way she so casually told him, “It would be interesting to find out,” stayed in his mind longer than the memory of the mind-numbing orgasm that she’d provided him with.
It surprisingly isn’t something that he’s considered before. They’ve never felt the need to explore their needs outside of the relationship, but the mental images of her on her knees, begging to be touched by someone else as he watches sends him into a silent frenzy, and he’s biting his tongue to stop an embarrassingly audible groan. It’s at that moment that John decides that her extremely vague proposition wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
And he knows the exact person that would leave her satisfied and begging for more.
—
The Newcastle game comes quickly, more so than John would have preferred. They haven’t mentioned anything more of the subject in hand. Maybe it isn’t even a subject and it’s just John’s mind doing overtime, but it’s too late to reconsider the dynamics of it all.
He’s going to say something today. But John has to find him first.
He sits on one of the benches in the away changing room, slipping shin pads under his sky blue match socks. John swallows thickly as he feels his chest become heavier with each passing moment.
“Rúben?”
His teammate looks up, a smile appearing once the familiar northern accent makes its way to his mind, “Hello John!”
For once, the centre back doesn’t like how pleased his teammate is to see him. It doesn’t feel right to drop the bombshell of a potential threesome right now in the changing room. There’s too many people, and they’ve barely spoken since they’d arrived at St. James Park.
He sits down next to him, observing the rest of the team getting ready for the game, every single one of them unaware as to what John has been planning in the privacy of his own mind for the past few nights. Not even she knows - it’s planned to be a surprise if all the pieces slot together in the way that they are in his scheme that’s so close to becoming reality.
They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Rúben looking over to his teammate waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. John knows it isn’t the right time. Maybe he’ll say something later. But not now.
It’s all he can think about during the countdown to the match. He had another moment in the tunnel, so close to grabbing Rúben by the arm and pulling him in so only they could hear the words that left his mouth. But his fellow defensive partner was already in deep conversation with Riyad. So John occupied himself with the zip on his pre match jacket and kept his proposal firmly on his tongue.
Walking out onto the pitch, it’s still the only thing he can think about. Tens of thousands of fans gather around them, but he still feels as if he and Rúben are the only ones there. His mind wanders as they take their positions. Glancing over, watching the fellow defender stretch his legs just before the whistle blows sends thoughts through John’s mind - fantasies of how he’d bend over his girlfriend as he watches, strong grip on her hair with those same exact hands that he’ll high five after every successful tackle.
City show their dominance in the first few minutes after the whistle has blown. They’re playing well, extremely well. But for once, John’s mind is in another world entirely. He begins to make superstitious promises to himself in a way to urge himself on. If I pass the ball long to him and he gets it, I’ll ask him. He attempts the feat, the ball hitting Rúben’s boot perfectly before he passes it to Kevin. If he succeeds in this tackle, He thinks as Newcastle begin a counter attack, I will ask him. But Rúben is quick in stopping the striped shirt players, getting the ball back smoothly as if it was absolutely nothing to him.
One of the Newcastle defenders kicks the ball out of play for a City corner. And as John makes his way down to the penalty area on the opposite end of the grass, he’s making one last promise to himself.
If he scores, I will ask him.
Ilkay stands next to the corner flag, raising his hand before whipping the ball into the sea of players. John follows it with his eyes, jumping up when he’s certain that it’s going to land on his head. But before he makes contact, he’s pulled to the floor by a member of the opposition. He lands on the pitch with a thud, the dampness of the grass seeping into his shirt. As he runs his hand through his hair, the crowd erupts in screams of cheers. John isn’t sure what’s happened. He scrambles to his feet, only to be met by the rest of the sky blue shirts running over to the away end and piling on top of each other. Of course, he follows quickly, joining them in the group hug and high fives.
But as they pull away, there’s still someone being congratulated by Bernardo for an outstanding goal. And John can practically feel his heart in his throat.
It’s Rúben.
John feels the sweat building up on the back of his neck as he high fives him in usual fashion, pushing previous thoughts about what those hands could be capable of against her skin as far back into his mind as far he can metaphorically get them. Rúben is still oblivious, smiling happily at his teammate as he buzzes off the adrenaline from his second goal of the season.
Bringing it up at halftime isn’t going to be an option, he thinks as they walk back into the changing room after the whistle; they still have forty five minutes left to play in a game that’ll keep them top of the table over the Christmas period. He can’t afford to pass on his distractions to another defender when a clean sheet is the most important thing right now.
He’s barely listening when Pep is giving his halftime instructions for when they get back out onto the pitch. They’re three nil up, the top spot practically secured which will no doubt ensure celebrations after the match whether they win or not. Rúben stands on the opposite side of the room, captain’s armband still wrapped around his bicep as he listens to his gaffer intently. John thinks back to the one time when he got to wear that armband, and it drove her wild. He told his teammates that he must have misplaced it, but in reality it was safely tucked into his pocket alongside his wallet and keys. And later that night, it was wrapped tightly around his arm once again as he fucked her roughly against the wall.
John still has no idea what instructions they’ve been given as he follows like a lost dog behind his teammates. But all he knows is that as soon as the full time whistle sounds, he’s going to invite Rúben to take part in something that he’d never imagined would happen when the Portuguese man joined the club last year.
Unsurprisingly, it’s another half consisting of inappropriate thoughts in John’s mind, and he’s trying his hardest not to get a fucking hard on in front of thousands of screaming fans as he thinks of what could be possible in the next few hours, the thought of her begging them both to fuck her with widened eyes proving a difficult mental image to erase.
Suddenly, the ball lands at his feet. John pauses momentarily, noticing a gap in Newcastle's defence; and it’s clear that a certain someone has also clocked the embarrassing amount of greenery that’s practically inviting them to run into. A few articles have labelled John as a ‘natural midfielder’, several pundits commenting that it should be his preferred position before his defensive comeback last season. Those are the words that echo in John’s mind as he takes the ball and practically tears through several black and white shirts. He can see another blue shirt in his peripheral vision urging him to pass the ball as he continues to run. So he does. But he doesn’t stop the counter. He knows that Pep is probably screaming at him from the sidelines for being out of position, but his mind is focussed on that goal. He’s close, and the box is practically empty. It’s only natural for Rúben to give him the ball back when John is in the perfect position to bag his own second goal of the season.
His foot meets the back of the ball and everything goes in slow motion for a second. She’s in the crowd, sitting behind the bench with her hands over her mouth as his intentions become clear. John thinks of her for a split second before shooting like his life depends on it.
The relief that washes over him when the net shakes wildly is indescribable. Before he can comprehend it, he feels two arms wrap around him, just as excited about the goal. He wants to whisper it into his ear right now, but full time is approaching with less than ten minutes to go until the whistle blows. He’s going to do it then. He has to.
High fives are being shared around their group of players, both John and Rúben being congratulated on the daring goal along with the assist. Both scoring in one game? Perfect.
John bites his tongue when the whistle blows, eyes not leaving Rúben’s figure once as he shakes hands with the Newcastle players out of respect. Once he’s certain he’s wished them all luck for their next game, his legs are carrying him as quickly as possible to the sidelines. Pep is giving him a look that’s a mix between a glare and a beam. John ignores him, instead rushing over to where his girlfriend is making her way down the stadium steps to meet him.
“You did so good.” She whispers as they hold each other tightly, a few fingers running through his damp curls as he places a soft kiss on the side of her face. They stay still for just a moment, taking in each other’s presence after a few hours of being apart. But he feels her grip soon loosen, a familiar voice echoing behind him.
“Here’s the other goalscorer!” She greets, hesitantly letting her boyfriend go and replacing his warmth with Rúben’s bare chest instead. He’s shirtless, sky blue material clutched in one hand. But the armband is still wrapped around his defined muscles.
Something changes in John. The way Rúben interacts with her has never made him angry or jealous. And after her words a few nights ago, he’s slowly beginning to figure out why. She runs a hand down his arm, pulling at the band before congratulating him on getting captain. He smiles at her, like he always does.
Before he knows it, John is beckoning him over. Rúben furrows his brows but approaches his teammate nonetheless. She doesn’t think twice. They’ve just spent ninety minutes together and won by a good few goals, as well as scoring themselves; needing to talk about the game is nothing out of the ordinary.
But they aren’t talking about the game. Far from it. John pulls Rúben closer, hand covering his mouth to block out any outsiders who may be listening, as well as cameras that may still be filming them. She can’t help but watch them converse. But they seem to be quieter than would be deemed regular, striking her as unusual more so after how good of a game they’d had.
John’s eyes are fixated on her the entire time, and Rúben’s follow not that long after. The Portuguese international’s body language changes suddenly as John’s words continue to echo through the available space that's between them, more tense and he’s seemingly stood up straighter, a look in his eye that bares a striking resemblance to one that she’s seen from her boyfriend many times.
She doesn’t dare to ask what they were talking about once Rúben leaves for the tunnel, giving her a quick wave followed by a wink that leaves butterflies in her stomach. It’s probably nothing that important, she decides. John watches him disappear into the tunnel. Once he’s out of view, he’s beginning to follow. She attempts it too, but he holds out a hand once he notices her figure closing in on him.
“Wait here - I have a surprise for you.”
She stays put, watching with raised brows as he runs down the tunnel, presumably back to the changing room to retrieve whatever he’s intending to give her. John is unpredictable in so many ways, so she’s really not sure what to expect.
He returns about two minutes later. He’s holding a black shopping bag, a tight knot tied with the handles at the top. It’s impossible to tell what it is just from looking at it. Unbeknownst to her, it’s been in his locker for the past two days, stashed at the very back to ensure that he’s the only one who knows of its existence. And he made sure to subtly slip it into his bag just before they boarded the coach.
She takes it from him, a slight weight to its contents, “What is it?”
“You’ll like it, trust me. Just don’t open it until you get back to the hotel, okay?” He instructs, face soft but tone slightly demanding, “Put it all on and be ready by the time I’m through that door.”
Her stomach flips, torn between loving and hating the effect that a few of his simple words can have on her. She nods understandingly, certain that she knows where it’s going to go and already preparing herself for something similar to the aftermath of the Leeds game. But she certainly doesn’t, only the two men know. She attempts to give him one last hug, allowing him to plant tiny kisses along her jaw. Small enough for nobody else to notice, but harsh enough for her to feel his teeth nipping at her sensitive skin. It’s a few moments later when she goes to pull away, but she’s stopped by his firm grip on her waist,
His fingers on her face bring her gaze up to meet his. It’s darker, one that she’ll only witness when they’re behind closed doors. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he already plans out what he’s going to do with her when he barges through that hotel door.
“And make yourself look nice, sweetheart - we have a guest joining us later.”
Her mouth drops open to say something, anything. But before she has a chance to express any of the emotions that are in her mind, he’s disappearing down the tunnel once again, this time for good.
He’s slipping through the door of the changing room once more, instantly being pulled into the team celebrations. It shouldn’t be a shock to John, he did score after all. But he needs to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. He takes his seat next to Rúben once more. The atmosphere that was once friendly and energetic is now full of tension and suspense, both eager to get out of the oak door and straight back to that hotel room.
John stands up, making a casual move of packing his things into his bag. When his back is turned, he can’t help himself curse under his breath when a familiar Birmingham accent directs itself towards Rúben.
“You coming out tonight then?” Jack questions. His obliviousness somehow angers John in a sense, but why the fuck would Jack know about what he’s planning? It’s stupid to act like that and John knows it.
Rúben pauses momentarily. John is still facing the locker, making himself look busy by stuffing every single belonging that he’s brought to Newcastle into his bag. Despite his frame that faces the wall behind them, Rúben still feels his cold glare on the side of his face, almost daring him to go out with the rest of the team, to spend his night out in the city and completely dismiss the once in a lifetime proposal offered to him barely twenty minutes earlier.
“No, sorry, I have plans already.”
Both of the defenders wait in anticipation for Jack to question the reply presented to him. But it’s proven a bizarre thing to consider when Jack simply nods before walking away with a quick, “Have fun, whatever you’re doing.”
It feels like a weight off of both pairs of shoulders. Once they’re given the all clear to prepare to leave, both men strip from their kits, and hopefully not for the first time that afternoon which is slowly becoming the early evening. Grass stained shirts are tossed into the specially made laundry basket and their boots are packed away back into the box. It’s routine for them.
John finds himself ready before Rúben. Maybe it’s because he’s naturally more organised in that sense, or perhaps due to the fact that he needs to bury himself within her inside of that hotel room as soon as he possibly can. He’s glancing over, noticing what he’s holding in his hands. Rúben meets his gaze as he plays with the band still in his grasp. Mental images cloud John’s mind, once again remembering the last time he brought that same piece of material into the bedroom. He stares at it before looking back up at Rúben, who doesn’t even have to question his teammate’s darkened eyes as it’s shoved into his pocket quickly just like John had done two years prior.
—
Standing facing the mirror, she begins to open up the bag and retrieve the items from within. Her instinct to bury her face into John’s shirt takes over as she pulls the soft material to her nose and breathes in a scent that, while familiar, isn’t of her boyfriend - but it is a scent she recognises. Wracking her brain, she decides not to dwell on it too much as she lays it back down, club crest facing upwards before reaching for the lingerie that John had picked out.
It was a set that she’d spent far too long looking at before deciding the price hadn’t justified the maybe one use it would get before John would reduce it to nothing more than fabric tatters strewn across the room before giving a feeble apology in post-nut clarity. She gave up paying out for lingerie when he made quick work of ruining them, stating that if he wanted her to wear it, he could pay. This was him sticking to his word.
She picks up the shirt again, slipping it over her head and pulling it over the black lace of the bralette. It’s an oversized fit, just like any of John’s shirts that she’ll wear to games, or sometimes around the house when he’s away so that his comforting scent still lingers around her - even when he’s in another country.
It fits her well she decides as she stands on her tiptoes and turns this way and that, trying to imagine the look on his face if he was to walk in right now and find her in only this. She continues staring down her own reflection, images flashing through her mind of John bursting into the room right this second before throwing her onto the bed, making quick work of stripping her lower half completely. But the shirt still feels unlike any she’s worn before. She turns around as fully as is possible for somebody to look over their own shoulder, the back of the material that was previously unseen now visible to her widened eyes.
Across her hidden shoulder blades, printed letters spelling RÚBEN run across the sky blue kit. And just above her lingerie, the material of the shirt is riding up, but the top half of a number 3 is still visibly splashed across her back.
She isn’t sure whether it’s a simple mistake or some kind of joke on John’s behalf. He has a sense of humour, one of the many things that she loves about him. But it’s usually left outside of the bedroom. He could have picked up the wrong shirt by accident, the blue of Rúben’s kit being identical from the front - only the back printing is what makes them distinguishable.
It doesn’t sit right with her, but maybe John simply plans on missionary tonight. The misprint on the back won’t matter if that’s the case.
The sound of the keycard in the door is what alerts her senses. As in usual fashion whenever they’ve done this, she sits against the headboard, legs tucked underneath herself and hands on her thighs, ready and waiting for him.
But she tenses when two voices echo on the other side of the wall as the lock slowly clicks open, her boyfriend’s voice audibly complaining about the shitty contraption through the doorway. Surely he hasn’t forgotten about their post match celebration already. He would have texted her if another one of his teammates was coming to their room for a drink or to watch one of those Netflix films that a few of them have been raving about.
Her instinct is to grab the duvet and pull it over to hide her modesty. It’s barely covering her bottom half when John enters, eyes already dark before he’s even gotten a chance to admire her in that lingerie set.
“Why aren’t you ready yet?” He asks, dropping his bag to the floor and toeing off his trainers.
She goes to answer, to protest that she is ready for him. But her words seem to get stuck in her throat when another figure follows behind him, following John’s actions and placing down his own belongings next to the door.
“I thought we were going to…you know..” She’s trailing, really not sure as to how she can word it when Rúben is in the room. But John already has an answer.
“Going to what?” John’s voice is casual yet beginning to switch to the controlling tone that she’s so used to hearing on nights such as this, “You thought I was going to fuck you to celebrate?”
He’s being so relaxed about the whole thing. And usually, she wouldn’t realise if it wasn’t for his teammate standing next to him. She changes her gaze to look up at Rúben, expecting him to look uncomfortable and ready to pick up his things to leave as quickly as he’d entered.
But he looks unfazed, and almost like he’s enjoying every moment of it.
“But why’s Rúben here?”
John pulls off his hoodie, the shirt he’s wearing underneath riding up momentarily to expose his toned stomach. It’s tossed on the floor before he begins to approach the bed, eyes narrowed, “Because I am going to fuck you to celebrate, but so is he.”
He beckons his teammate over, Rúben obeying without hesitation. She’s never been so shocked yet equally turned on in all the years she’s been with John, not even noticing that her own mouth has dropped open as she keeps her eyes fixated on Rúben’s actions.
“Why are you acting surprised, eh?” John almost laughs, placing a cold hand on her thigh. She wants to move away from the harsh bite of his hand that’s been exposed to the elements, but she’s craving his touch too much to care, “You’re the one who wanted to find out how other goalscorers are rewarded - and I clearly remember him scoring.”
It all clicks together in her mind, the puzzle pieces slotting together as she recounts the words that slipped out a few nights ago, a fantasy that would play in her mind a little too often. And the shirt, it wasn’t a mistake - John had this planned all along. She knew something hadn’t been right when John had stepped out onto the pitch. He seemed distracted in a way that wasn’t normal for him but the moment the whistle had been blown, echoing the start of the match, he seemed to pull himself together. But now the memory of the way John had pulled Rúben aside to whisper makes sense.
Her lingerie dampens at the image burnt into her mind of the way Rúben had looked at her following John’s words which were no doubt an invitation to their little celebratory party. She’d noted the expression at the time, the way it had all too resembled John when he realised he was getting what he wanted and the thought that Rúben wanted to fuck her only wets the skin between her thighs even more.
“So tell me,” Rúben says as he steps forward, hands placed on the bed as he leans in, face now closer to her than ever, “How am I getting rewarded? Or would you rather I didn’t find out?” He’s giving her the chance to back out, to say that she hadn’t meant the comment and it was just something to see if John would fuck her into next year or if she truly wanted to feel another man’s cock in any one of her holes.
“Since you both scored, you could just fuck each other.” She gives a nervous laugh that sounded strained even to her own ears, her voice no longer controlled as it would usually be.
“I’m sure he would love to have a go at my ass,” John chuckles before catching his plump lip between his teeth as he looks over her as she continues to tug the bedding into place. “But why have me when there’s a perfectly good, soaked tight pussy there for the taking?”
“Is that what you want John?” She asks him, tongue licking over her own mouth before she continues. It’s an action they both pay attention to, the way her tongue moves, the tip flicking over the corner of her lips and they no doubt think of the way it would feel over their head or pressing flat against them as their cock is buried repeatedly in her throat with each thrust. “To watch me suck Rúben’s cock? To watch him fuck my soaked, tight, little pussy the way you would?” She says the latter slowly, making sure to enunciate each word.
Their gaze is still on her lips, no doubt picturing her painted mouth filled with either of their cocks and wondering what pretty red smears it would leave on there. “You want to watch him mess up my makeup when I choke on him? Or store it to memory the way I’d close my eyes as I bounce on his cock? Is that what you want John?” She’s becoming more turned on by the second, her words having as much of an effect on herself as it is the two men before her who are hanging onto her every word. “Can you control yourself though? The thought of another man fucking me, coming in me, is one thing, but seeing it?” She asks as she slowly moves, making her way over to Rúben on all fours. “I don’t know if you could.” her eyes never leave John’s until she closes the gap between her and the other City player. And he’s watching as she’s slipping the lace down her glistening thighs before carelessly tossing it onto the chair in the corner.
She rubs her nose against his, lips ghosting against one another before she applies the lightest of pressure while her fingers stroke over his jaw and feel the light scruff there. Rúben trying to kiss her again gives her the opportunity to suck his lip into her mouth, teeth closing down lightly but forcefully enough to hold it there as her tongue laps over it teasingly. The slow groan that sounds in his throat is enough for her juices to drip freely from her. “Are you sure you still want this John?” She asks, letting go of Rúben’s lip for a few seconds before giving him another light kiss.
The panties that she’d just discarded would have caught it, but John didn’t want the likes of underwear in his way after a game like tonight. He loved it when she was ready and waiting, his shirt covering her tits and her pussy naked and soaked ready to be licked and fucked. The only exception is that tonight, the shirt isn’t his; it’s Rúben’s.
“Are you sure? I know the way you beg when it’s just me.” He says, voice sounding thicker now as lust bills. His beautiful eyes seem darker, pupils wider as he watches everything unfold before him.
The hand that had stroked over Rúben’s jaw moves, pulling up the jersey enough for John to be able to see. “You tell me John, do I look wet enough to want this or should I continue first before making up my mind?”
She expects John to stride over, waiting in anticipation for him to pull her arms away from Rúben and straight onto his own body like he usually would. But he doesn’t. Both she and his teammate observe with a fixed gaze as he settles himself down onto the chair in which still holds her discarded underwear. He picks up the black material and drops it to the floor next to him, leaning back into the faux leather with a narrowed gaze,
“Beg for him then.”
Silence.
“Go on, tell him where you want him first,” He continues, tone harsher due to her inability to comply, leaning back into the chair as if the whole thing was an everyday occurrence, “I’m more than happy to watch your lips around his cock for a while.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She speaks daringly, making momentary eye contact with Rúben whilst still directing the words at her boyfriend, “Is this what you were thinking about all game, John? You were thinking about me gagging on Rúben’s cock whilst you sit and watch with your hand over your pants?”
Rúben looks down at the woman in front of him, and the small nod that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't been paying so much attention to her delicate features gives him much anticipated permission to start undoing the drawstring on his sweatpants. She aids him in pulling them down, the material splaying out onto the carpet as he steps out of them, still standing at the foot of the king sized bed.
“She’s not usually like this,” John states, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his stomach. Rúben looks over to him as one of her fingers traces down his thigh, “But she’ll be eating her words soon enough.”
She wants to snap back at him, say something sarcastic. But the view of Rúben’s exposed skin seems much more inviting, placing a questioning finger on the waistband of his boxers. He nods, eyes softening, “Go on.” He challenges.
She obeys, pulling them down in a moment of excitement and lust. His cock springs free, and she finds inclined to wrap a manicured hand around it as if it was her own boyfriend’s, curling her palm as Rúben lets out a small wince of pleasure from the minimal contact.
“Go slowly.” John instructs her from the corner of the room, watching intently as she strokes along his teammate’s twitching shaft. He begins to grow harder the more she drags her hand over him, the darkened look that John is already showing transferring to Rúben’s own features.
The head begins to turn a darker shade of pink, and as Rúben places a hand on the back of her neck to pull her in to where he’s craving a more intimate touch, she’s taking him as far into her mouth as she can, eyes never once leaving John’s as she slowly inches the centre back’s cock to the back of her throat.
She moves backwards, feeling him tense before taking him back in, even further this time. Rúben’s eyes flutter shut slightly, and John is already growing restless from where he sits. Her own eyes flicker up to see Rúben carefully removing his own shirt, throwing it down next to his sweatpants, trying his best to not disturb her mouth’s steady rhythm which feels a hundred times better than John had described inside the hotel elevator.
“Do you want him to come in your mouth?” John’s harsh question cuts through the air around them, tugging off his own trousers and letting them pile on top of her previously discarded panties next to the chair, “Or would you rather have him somewhere else?”
She hesitantly replaces her lips with a steady hand, continuing to get Rúben off whilst conversing with her boyfriend - who’s getting more aroused by the second just from watching her hands grip his teammate’s cock, “Well considering that he played better tonight, I think he deserves to fuck me before you do.”
“Did you hear that, mate?” John says, faking disbelief despite the fact that this is the outcome that he’d been fantasising about throughout the entire game, but she doesn’t need to know that yet, “She wants to fuck the man of the match.”
Rúben pauses momentarily. He hesitates before placing a hand on her head to bring an end to her actions, causing a stop to the quickening rate that she’s edging him towards that will end with him spilling into her mouth, “I did. But I really think she should ask me first since she wants to feel my cock inside of her so badly.”
He hasn’t spoken much since he’d entered the room, but the authority in his voice that so resembles the one that she’s already so used to from John just from the few sentences that he’s managed to aim at her leaves a small damp patch on the duvet.
“Well?” John urges, removing his shirt. She traces his toned stomach with her eyes before flickering them back to meet Rúben who seems to be getting impatient, wanting her to beg him to fuck her just like he’d intended to do since John proposed the whole idea to him.
She inhales, pulling her shirt up so that her dripping cunt is on full show for them both, two pairs of eyes fixated to the bottom half of her body as she maintains eye contact with the man who’s shirt is hitting the carpeted floor, “Can Rúben fuck me?”
She’s waiting for his permission, but as she’s pulling her shirt higher to prove that she needs Rúben to fuck her like his life depends on it, John has his back turned as he’s rummaging through his teammates jacket’s pocket in search of something. She can’t see what it is that he’s pulled out, but it’s clear that it’s something that he wants to incorporate into the celebrations.
But John isn’t satisfied with her pathetically toned question, turning around with furrowed brows, backed up by his teammate who places a hand under her chin to tear her gaze away from her boyfriend and back towards the Portuguese man, “Ask me, not him.”
She shudders at his roughness, but it’s exactly what she needs to spur her on, “Please can you fuck me?”
“Much better.” Rúben chuckles, leaning down to slot his lips against hers, tugging at her bottom lip to allow him to slip his tongue into her mouth. And the entire time, John is watching, the arousal in his boxers growing every second as his girlfriend is pushed down onto the bed by his best friend with his tongue still deep inside her mouth. She begins to wrap her legs around his waist without hesitation, his hips digging into her heels ever so slightly.
“How wet is she?” John growls, sitting himself on the end of the bed, watching intently as Rúben grabs his cock and runs it down her slit to tease her, the head collecting juices that mixes with his precum as she lets out a soft pant as his tip makes contact with the tip of her folds.
“She’s soaked.”
John hums in satisfaction at his words. And she barely registers that he’s making his way towards her in the middle of the mattress when she feels Rúben pushing himself inside of her, cock sliding into her pussy with no difficulty whatsoever. She cries out his name, and even more so when she feels John begin to pull up her shirt and leave rough kisses along her boobs, just above the lace of her bralette that was beginning to slip down her body as Rúben fashions a pace that leaves her lips parted in sheer euphoria.
“Look at you baby, you’re a mess for him,” John teases, pushing down one side of the bralette and latching his tongue onto her right nipple as she whimpers underneath him, “Letting him fuck you in his shirt. I bet you were soaking wet when he scored, weren’t you?”
She feels pathetic for not being able to reply from the feeling of Rúben being buried inside of her, the sound of his skin against her own echoing throughout the room mixed with his breathless moans that come out in small pants. She can’t help but reach out a hand towards John, pulling him towards her face, craving his lips against her own for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
He mirrors Rúben’s earlier actions, biting her lip and dominating the kiss as she moans into his mouth from the rhythm that his close friend has set from the end of the bed.
John glances over towards the younger man, asking him a question with his eyes that he seems to understand immediately. Her eyes are closed as she feels his strong hands leave her waist momentarily. Too caught up in the pleasure to care, he’s putting them back seconds later and thrusting into her even harder than before.
And it could be because of the white material wrapped around his bicep that reads Captain in purple lettering.
She notices it straight away when she reopens her eyes and fixates them on his arm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch the band. But she’s close, and they both know that she is.
“Do you think we should let her come?” John aims his question towards Rúben, moving his mouth along her jaw, his voice sending vibrations into her skin that make her arms dig into his back for some kind of support from the pace that Rúben’s hips are hitting her. She feels the arm that the band sits around begin to wander, and the next thing she feels is a quick finger being perfectly swirled around her sensitive clit, almost as if he’s fucked her before and knows the exact way to push her over the edge.
It’s clear to both of them that Rúben hesitates for a split second, but the moment he whispers a croaky “Yes”, she’s pulsating around him and a much needed orgasm is rippling throughout her body, walls clamping around the younger man who follows with a groan only seconds later from the intensity of her own release.
John can barely contain himself as Rúben pulls away with a deep groan, the wetness of their mixed releases clearly audible as the warmth of his cock leaves her pussy. Her boyfriend wants nothing more than to savour this moment, the view of another man’s cum dripping from her onto the bed sheets almost too much to handle for the Englishman.
She allows Rúben to settle down next to her as he catches his breath, her body between the two teammates as all three of them take in the event that has just taken place. John raises his hand and moves a piece of hair that’s over her right eye before leaning in to kiss her softly.
“Do you think you can do that again, baby?” He mumbles against her lips once her breathing has become steadier, “Can you manage it if I fuck you this time?”
She opens her eyes to see him staring down at her, a more soft gaze in his own grey ones. She's always loved his eyes, the way that the light catches them and changes them into palettes of blues and greens. But she knows that his features will go back to that exact darkened look once she opens her mouth and lets slip the one thing that’s been on her mind since she realises that Rúben was going to be a part of the celebrations.
“Only if Rúben gets to fuck me again - at the same time.”
They both tense at that, and John can practically feel his cock throbbing already. He’s taking off his boxers as Rúben glances over for some sort of confirmation that the whole thing is okay, to which John simply nods with an unintelligible look in his eyes before leaning back towards her face.
“Tell him where you want him.” John mutters, the tips of his teeth digging into the skin on her jaw as he traces his mouth down towards her neck. She lets out a small moan when he makes contact with her sweet spot, sucking gently on her sensitive skin. She feels the exact actions mirrored on the other side of her face, the stubble of Rúben’s beard brushing against her skin as he too moves down to mark her neck with his own mouth, “You want him in your ass, don’t you?”
John shifts next to her as she nods harshly at his statement, allowing her boyfriend to pull her up so that she can straddle his stomach for a moment. Rúben moves himself too, breathing deeply. She flinches when she feels his hand running down her back, pressing a small kiss to the nape of her neck before giving a small nod to John. She pulls herself up before sinking back down, his cock inside of her for the first time that night, the feeling overdue but so worth it from the way that he’s filling her already.
“Just tell me if you want to stop, okay?” Rúben speaks softly, whispering the words into her ear as he pushes her hair over one shoulder. Pausing for just a moment to savour the situation, before she grabs his hand and aids him in guiding his cock into her other hole.
She’s almost certain that it’s the definition of euphoria once they’re both deep inside of her, a soft moan that slips from her lips giving them the notice to begin thrusting, her entire body shifting from the way that they move inside of her.
“You look absolutely unreal like this,” John tells her, voice cracking slightly, “Such a good girl letting us both fuck you.”
“Please,” She begs, back arching as Rúben tugs at her hair, allowing another moan to let slip, “Please fuck me harder.” She’s clawing at John’s chest as their thrusts become increasingly quicker and begin to sync, an indescribable amount of pleasure rippling inside of her as a familiar sensation is beginning to build at the base of her spine. She doesn’t realise how quickly it’s racing towards her, and she’s finding it difficult to keep any of the little composure that she has left.
When she feels John’s quick fingers making their way over her clit, just a few moments of small contact is enough to push her over the edge, screaming both men's names one after another as it washes over her, trembling between them.
Rúben’s thrusts quicken even more than before, chasing his own release that comes around twenty seconds later, the sound of skin on skin slapping coming to a halt as it’s replaced by a long groan paired with a small and drawn out “Fuck”.
He pulls out of her carefully, and John takes the opportunity to place his hands onto her waist and push himself even deeper inside of her, his own orgasm creeping up on him that would no doubt be spilling inside of her any second. His hands are in his hair as she feels him throbbing, throwing her head onto his chest as he releases, her name on his tongue in a mantra.
He places his hands onto her back, his cock still deep inside of her. But he still uses this time to collide his lips onto hers, showing his affection after the craziness of tonight’s events. She kisses him back, momentarily forgetting that his teammate is still in the room, pulling his clothes up from the floor and cleaning himself up with one of the hotel towels.
“I love you.” He whispers. John doesn’t care that Rúben may have heard him as his boxers are pulled back over his legs.
“I love you too,” She replies, eventually pulling herself off of him with a quick hiss. She takes one of the towels from the other chair, throwing it in his direction before taking one for herself, smiling at her boyfriend “Now get cleaned up before everybody gets back to their rooms.”
Summary: The closer and closer you become, the more you both begin to wonder. Is this the real deal?
Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader
Warnings: Language. Smut. Porn with absolutely no plot. None whatsoever.
Word Count: 1500ish
A/N: This is a part of a loosely connected string of one-shots called “Outside the Lines”. No need to read any other installment to understand this. Hit that reblog of you enjoyed this. Found this gif on google. It doesn’t belong to me.
“Could die like this,” he thinks. It’s not a bad way to go, trapped between the heat of your thighs that clench either side of his face. Beats the time as a recruit on Swim Week when his instructors bound his arms and legs, tossed him in the deep-end, and ordered figure it out. Be that as it may, your efforts don’t go unnoticed. You’re overflowing, drenching the bottom half of Frank’s face, but he knows how to swim good.
He watches you as he goes to work through half-lidded eyes. Ain’t that part of the fun – getting to revel in how he can break you down? Spine arched for dear life, head thrown back, that big girl attitude crumbles with the right flick of his tongue, don’t it? Funniest thing about it is, the more this symbiosis between you continues, the easier he can crack your shell in the cruelest of ways.
❤️🔥HARRY STYLES FICS FOR NAUGHTY BITCHES WHO LOVE READING❤️🔥 (aka fic recommendations)
Every single one of the fics/writers listed here have made my life exponentially better. And I would defend them with my life. Welcome to my happy place. They are in no particular order, I stand by all of them equally. Please show these writers all the love they deserve or else 😡 Also! I will be updating this every time I find new favourites + please let me know if you have any recommendations
-SERIES’-
In my feelings - by @harrystylescherry
(Personal review: this series is the series that got me into reading full length fics. Everything about it is absolute perfection. Her writing is unbelievably good. It’s so long and incredibly detailed. I’ve never been more personally attached to two characters in my life. If you want to feel something read this (or really any of her writing). My all time number one fic)
Somebody else - by @harrystylescherry
(Personal review: Again, her writing is top notch. As painful as this story is, every moment in between the pain makes it feel so real. I’m not usually someone who likes reading fics with heavy angst but this one is one that I’ve read time and time again)
Blacking out and breaking hearts - by @dont-call-me-baby-posts
(Personal review: this is one of my newer finds, and it is ongoing. Somehow every chapter feels so complete yet always leaves you wanting more. These characters are very personal to me. I’ve been following it since she posted the first chapter and I’ve been hooked ever since. Beautiful and emotional writing. 10/10)
Dancing with myself - by @givemesomeboobies
(Personal review: I love a good best friends brother trope, and this series does it so well. The smut is great and so is the conflict around all the main characters. I love the readers relationship with Harry and the way they write about mental health. Great great read)
Smooth operator - by @for-fucks-sake-h
(Personal review: What an original concept, I’ve never read anything quite like this and the writer did such a fantastic job at making such a complicated relationship feel so relatable and hot. Very well written smut and dialog)
Jamaica me happy - by @for-fucks-sake-h
(Personal review: I read this one a few months ago and it is the fic that made my fall in love with this writer. Friends-to-lovers is one of my favourite tropes thanks to this series. Honestly can’t say enough good things about the writing. I literally squealed out loud so many times while reading this. No complaints)
To love and be loved - by @watchmegetobsessed
(Personal review: I just finished this about a week ago and i still think about it all the time. This is truly one of the only fics I’ve read that has a single dad Harry that I actually thoroughly enjoyed, it’s not usually my trope of choice but this one is so heartbreakingly good that I couldn’t stop reading it)
Desire - by @watchmegetobsessed
(Personal review: Honestly this series has some of the hottest scenes ever. This writer does sexual tension so well. I adore this concept and was so excited to read it when I first found it, and let me tell you, it doesn’t disappoint whatsoever. All of their writing is very original and creatively impressive)
1923 - by @hrina
(Personal review: Prior to reading this I didn’t think I enjoyed fics that are set in the past but I can not explain how happy I am that I ended up reading this one. Everything about it I am obsessed with. The smut, the love/hate relationships, the wirlwind of emotions, everything. Also one of my favourite dynamics)
The ring - by @hrina
(Personal review: I LOVE a good llh boxer Harry and this series is easily my favourite one. The smut is so hot and the storyline is so effortlessly complete in only three parts)
Daddy issues - by @fkinavocado
(Personal review: Honestly there’s not much I can say about this one, other than oh. My. God!! It’s so perfectly dirty and sweet at the same time. It’s truly reawakened my daddy kink and I’m not mad at it at all. Such a thoughtful storyline and an incredible dynamic between two such emotionally complex characters. I look forward to every update)
Aster - by @moonchildstyles
(Personal review: This is my most recent read and I am so completely in love with these characters. Sometimes I find it hard to imagine Harry as the bad boy prototype but she did such an amazing job making it realistic while including all the things I love about Harry. The character development is unreal)
chiaroscuro - by @moonchildstyles
(Personal review: This is the only vampire!Harry fic that I have read that I liked. Something about the way she writes Harry (in this and all her fics) is so realistic and loveable. Never once did I feel like anything was forced or contrived which is a must for this type of story. Definitely recommend even if you’re not usually into the vampire trope)
-ONE SHOTS-
Oh Anna! - by @stylesloveclub
Roses and Vanilla - by @stylesloveclub
Residue - by @bopbopstyles
Better now - by @bopbopstyles
Behind the bar - by @bopbopstyles
Aubade - by @meetmymouth
Never coming back down - by @for-fucks-sake-h
Hey angel - by @watchmegetobsessed
Kisses - by @hrina
Popsicles and kiwis - by @hrina
The 24-hour bookstore - by @harrystylescherry
Ungodly hour - by @harrystylescherry
Needy - by @harrystylescherry
Pearls - by @moonchildstyles
The boxer - by @moonchildstyles
Stablehand!Harry x Princess!reader - by @angelsanddaisies
I live in the neighbourhood - by @finestoflines
“I am not going to join your band” - by @finestoflines
Quarantine with a view - by @fkinavocado
“You horny fuck” - by @vocalharry
Changes - by @sunflowervolvimp3
NFWMB - by @sunflowervolvimp3
42 hours - by @sunflowervolvimp3
Liberation - by @watchmegetobsessed
Cupid’s chokehold - by @meetmymouth
Doctor’s orders - by @havin-a-wee
~I only did reviews for the series’ and not the one shots simply because there was much more to say considering the length of the fics. I would rate every single one of the fics listed (both series and one shots) 10/10~
Hello, would you please write one for Ben Chilwell? His friend/best friend drives him to the Bridge as he’s injured and he makes sure she’s sitting right next to him every time. Mason has encouraged him frequently to make a move before someone else does, and because he’s the person for that he does it subtly in the stadium. Placing his hand on her thigh, drawing patters and so on. She’s a bit shy and just leans her leg against his. After the halftime break he puts his hand there again and she places her hand on top of his, slotting her fingers through his and he asks her to stay at his for dinner. You can go from there, I’d appreciate lots of fluff and love. Sorry if it’s weird or very detailed, it was just an idea of mine. Thank you and have a wonderful day :) x
Thank u anon I love this!!! I hope u like it!! Sorry it's a little short I just have loads of requests.
Take Your Chances | Ben Chilwell x Reader (Request)
Ben looked over at y/n as she chatted to him about her day; they were attending the evening Champions League match that Chelsea were playing, but with Ben being injured he'd been ruled out of four games indefinitely meaning he showed his support in the stands, and every time he brought the same person.
It was the last match that he would be sat in the crowd as opposed to sat on the bench, but he knew that he was going to enjoy sitting in the Box more considering every time he did he had y/n next to him.
His mind went back to the brief conversation he had had with Mason the weekend before as he waited for y/n to arrive at his house, Mason seemed frustrated, he wanted the two of them to get together but Ben was being too cautious.
"What are you going to gain from sitting and just doing nothing?" Mason asked Ben who shook his head.
"It's too big of a risk," Ben muttered
"What is a risk is having her at a party tonight filled with the rest of the guys and soon enough one of them will snap her up and you'll be left complaining." Mason pointed out as he set down his phone.
"y/n isn't like that, she wouldn't go for them." Ben muttered
"What makes you any different?" Mason pointed out
"We have something," Ben replied instantly
"Exactly, so do something about it."
Ben bit his lip as she made a dry remark about the people she worked with, and as she stopped at the light she looked over to make eye contact with him, a soft smile coming to her lips as she did so.
"Enough about me, how have you been coping with injury this week?" she asked softly, Ben sighed and shrugged as she began to drive again.
"It's been the same, annoying, but thank you for coming again tonight,"
"Would never miss an opportunity to go to the Bridge, plus, I enjoy it." She smiled as she looked over at him. That smile, he thought about it all the time.
-
As Ben watched the strong performance play out in front of him he was pleased to see that y/n seemed totally at ease, chatting with him breezily. At half time as she went to get them both a drink Ben noticed as she spoke with some guy inside, one of Timo's friends, and he noticed the immediate jealousy he felt, wanting to go over there instantly and put his arm around her but he couldn't, he hadn't made a move yet.
As she returned, having spent close to the full fifteen minutes chatting with the guy, Ben noticed the expression of discontent on her face.
"Who was the guy?" Ben asked with a raised eyebrow as she handed him the beer.
"No one," she smiled momentarily as she sat down next to him, angling her body slightly towards him. Ben smiled gently as she looked over the pitch, watching as the players came back on.
As kick off resumed and their conversation simultaneously y/n's heart jumped as she felt his hand rest gently on her thigh, swiping his thumb up and down the material of her jeans, and she looked over to him with a bite of her lip that broke out into a soft smile as he kept his eyes on the pitch.
Ben felt her place her hand on his softly, their fingers interlinking and her eyes warm. She didn't feel nervous or apprehensive, she wanted to be with him, and the fact that he was finally making a move made her realise that she was more to him than just a friend.
-
As they walked out of the ground, the two of them conversing energetically and Ben elated at the strong win, Ben felt something overcome him as they stood in the emptying carpark, and he spun y/n and cupped her cheek.
She placed her hand over his as he drew her in closer and bit her lip, "are you gonna make me wait any longer?" she grinned.
"God, no." Ben chuckled before feverishly kissing her, deepening it by the second as her hands interlinked around the back of his neck. She moaned against his lips as he gripped her waist and kept her close against his body.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to do that," she said with a smile as she traced her index finger along his cheekbone.
"And Thank God I finally did," Ben replied with a smile before kissing her longingly again.
warnings: very sexually explicit, language, tiny bit of self-deprecation
It was just supposed to be an outdoor barbecue. There were children running around. An innocent little birthday party right at the end of June.
Harry should not be eating that fucking watermelon the way he was.
And Y/N should not be thinking all the unholy thoughts she was while watching him either.
But.
He was devouring that pour slice of watermelon. Stuffing his entire fucking face into it. It’s juices flowing down his chin. Licking his fingers clean. Going back in for more. Flickering his eyes towards her when he took another bite.
Jesus Christ. She’d never look at a watermelon the same again.
Can I request smut with Chilly, soft intimate sex on top of the famous pianooooo 😥
Y/n's Secret Talent
Summary: Ben discovers y/n can play the piano as he shows her his progress in attempting to learn the instrument
Song: Glitter In The Air - Pink
Ben's best friend was as shocked as the rest of the world when Dele revealed on his Instagram story that Ben was taking piano lessons. It wasn't something she could ever see him doing, but, nevertheless, she was supportive of his new hobby.
However, what she hadn't told Ben was that she herself was a pianist. She started taking lessons when she was five, even having a local newspaper branding her as the girl with the golden hands when she was just eight years old. Her mum even went as far as to have the news clipping framed and put on the wall - y/n quickly ripped it down and hid it in the kitchen draw the first time Ben visited her childhood home. In her opinion, she could do without him knowing about her golden hands.
"Go on then," y/n encouraged, Ben disrupting their movie night to show her his progress. She sat down on the piano stool, glancing across at him. "I'm waiting, Music Man," she giggles, bouncing her knee impatiently.
"Has anyone told you that you have a problem with patience?" He asks, rhetorically. She rolls her eyes, nudging him with her elbow. "Seriously," he continues to poke fun, "you should see a behavioural therapist about it-"
"Benji!" He loved how she said his nickname, the sweet melodic ring to it. She points to the white and black piano keys. "Either show me your progress or I'm picking the most cheesiest rom-com," she threatens, pushing her finger down onto an A key, "and I'll even talk about the male lead the whole time. We both know how much you hate that."
Ben groaned, rolling his head back. He did hate it, but only because he hated hearing y/n talk about another guy's good looks and not his own. "Fine, fine," he mumbles, cracking his fingers together as he stretched out his arms, "it's not much, so don't laugh."
Y/n gasps, holding onto his bicep. "I would never!"
His right hand comes down against the white keys, carefully pressing them as he played what y/n believed to be London Bridge. His pace was a little off but she guessed that was from him trying to concentrate on remembering the sequence of notes.
Y/n gave him a small round of applause, smiling as she looks back at him. "Look at you," she ruffles her fingers through his product free hair. Normally, Ben would hate when anyone would try and mess with his hair, but y/n was...well she was his person, even if she didn't know that. "You'll be a master pianist in no time," she says, pulling her hand back.
"Yeah, well, no promises," he replies, getting up from the stool. He tells her he's going to make the popcorn, disappearing off into the kitchen.
Y/n's hands delicately danced over the keys, their cold smooth surface all too familiar to her. She had spent an embarrassing amount of time sitting in front of a piano, practising every day until she had perfected the likes of Chopin and Bach. There were many a time when her parents had to pry her away from the piano, possibly regretting giving her her first piano lessons.
Her right hand pressed down on the keys, creating an F chord, humming as her hands used their muscle memory to play a melody she had written many years ago. She loved the sound of a piano as much as she enjoyed the sound of Ben's voice, both having a calm, soothing effect on her.
"You can play?"
Y/n abruptly stops, pulling her hands away from the piano. "Is that what I was doing?" She asks, swinging her legs over the stool until she was facing him. She looks up at him with an innocent smile, trying not to act like she knew what she was just doing. "Huh, I wonder if it's like those people who wake up from comas speaking a language they've never spoken before," she ponders, shrugging her shoulders.
"Since when have you been able to play?" Ben asks, leaving the bowl of popcorn on the glass dining room table. She shrugged her shoulder, continuing to play the innocent act. "Angel," his voice was low as he used the term of endearment she accidentally admitted to liking, "why have you never told me you could play? I've been taking lessons from a piano teacher for months when I could've just asked you."
"Oh, no, no," she shook her head, "you said it yourself, I have a problem with patience."
Ben rolled his eyes, sitting sideways on the stool. "Seriously, though, you can play?"
"It's not that big of a deal," she murmurs, turning to face him. He throws back a look that says otherwise. "Seriously, Ben, it's just a normal thing for me," she dismisses him, "like riding a bike."
"Playing the piano and riding a bike are two very different things."
Y/n shrugs her shoulders.
Ben chuckles, pushing his hair back as he runs his fingers through it. "You know I'm definitely going to get you to teach me now, right?"
She gasps, dramatically, "and put a poor man out of his job?" She shakes her head. "Nope, not happening."
"Come on," he pouts, hands hooking underneath her knees as he pulls her closer to him. He dangled her legs over his, the pair of them only a mere few inches away from each other. "I'll pay you-"
"How much we talking?"
"I was thinking of paying you with my wonderful hugs," he answers, eyes scanning over each of the freckles, beauty marks and the little scar above her left eye, "and possibly even a few more of my hoodies."
Y/n lifts her hand up to her chin, tapping her finger against her bottom lip. She pretended to think it over, having already given her answer a few minutes ago. Whilst she did love Ben's hugs and he did own some of the best hoodies she had laid her eyes upon, she ultimately shook her head. "Nope, no can do," she tells him, dropping her hand, "it just wouldn't feel right kicking a man out of his job. That and I would just be too much of a distraction."
Ben barks a gentle laugh. "Sure, okay."
"I would be," she playfully slaps his thigh, "I am definitely an upgrade from your current piano teacher. Unless old men are your thing." She lifts her hands into the air. "No judgement here-" A squeal leaves her lips as he pokes her sides, quickly moving his hands away before he could tickle her. "Are you telling me you wouldn't be distracted by this?" Y/n asks, circling her finger around her face.
Ben just shrugs his shoulders, trying to play it cool. "I think I'd be fine," he answers, "in fact, I think I would get so bored, I'd be put off the piano forever." She shoves his shoulder, a look in her eyes that said oh really? He nods his head, "Yes, really."
"I don't believe you."
"No?" Y/n shakes her head. "Why's that then?"
"Because I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking," y/n answers truthfully, dropping her act. Ben leans back, clearing his throat. "I know you don't like it when I talk about the leading male characters in films because you want me to talk about you in that way," she continues, chewing on the inside of her cheek, "I know you actually secretly like it when I steal your hoodies because it means I have a little something of yours to call me own. I know you try your best not to stare at my lips, even though you're dying to kiss me."
Ben doesn't know why she's suddenly saying all this to him. Of course, it was true, he wasn't going to deny that to himself, he just didn't know he had been so obvious. "I-" His breath catches in his throat, brain going fuzzy as he tries to deny it. "I mean-"
"Jesus, Benjamin." Y/n grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him in as she makes the first move. "If you want to kiss me, then just kiss me," she mumbles, before pushing her lips against his.
Her hand snaked around his neck, holding onto him as he kisses her back, happy smiles appearing on both of them as they continued to move their lips in synchronicity. Neither one of them had wanted something more than right now. Ben reaches out to hold her face, cupping her cheeks and too scared to hold her anywhere else.
She breaks away first, needing to catch her breath. "I want you," she whispers, placing both hands flat against his chest. He raises his eyebrows, trying not to read too much into three simple words. A giggle falls from her lips, nodding her head. "Yes, like that," she bites her bottom lip.
His hands dangle down to her waist, thumbs brushing against the material of her (his) hoodie until it's just high enough for her skin to peak out. She shivers at his touch, his thumbs cold against her skin as he rubs slow circles against her. "Are you sure?" Ben asks, bumping his nose against hers, half smiling as she giggles at the innocent action.
"One hundred per cent," y/n replies, butterflies fluttering inside as he rests his forehead against hers. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath in to settle her stomach. "I want you," she repeats, her voice soft as she opens her eyes to his.
Ben lifts his hand from her waist, resting it under her chin, using it to tilt her up into another kiss. He had always thought her lips would be soft, but as they move against his, soft isn't how he would even begin to describe them. She parts her lips, moaning as he runs his tongue across her bottom lip, a simple sound driving him crazy in the best way possible. His tongue glides slowly over hers, wanting to draw out this experience for as long as possible. Something told him in the back of his mind that this wasn't going to be a one time thing, but he wanted to burn every little bit into his memory in case his intuition was wrong.
Both pull back at the same time, him removing his shirt and then helping to remove her hoodie; they both laugh when her arm gets stuck, Ben apologising for being too eager to remove it. His breath is taken away as he takes in her chest, cheeks flushing as he has to tear his eyes away. She takes his hand, pressing a soft kiss against the back of it, before guiding it down her chest. His touch his delicate, fingertips skimming over the tops of her breasts. She doesn't stop the movement of his hand, lowering it to the waistband of her leggings. "Touch me," she whispers, using her free hand to turn him to look at her, "Benji, please."
"Yeah?" He poses the question, her placing a simple kiss against his lips as she replies, "yes."
He dips his hand inside her leggings, drawing a whimper from her as he ghosts his fingers over the outside of her underwear. "Like this?" He asks, eyes trained on her reaction as he applies more pressure.
Her breath is shakey, trying not to buck her hips into his hand. She wanted all of his touches but didn't want to come off as too eager. "Close," she replies, tongue poking against her cheek as he snaps back the elastic of her underwear. He hums when he feels how turned on she was, cockiness setting in at the thought of being the one to do this to her. "Bingo," she whimpers as his fingers push against her slick slit.
"Didn't know I had such an effect on you, angel," Ben teases, coating his fingers in her juices.
"Cockiness isn't a good shade on you," y/n quips, wrapping both arms around his neck. She pulls him in for a kiss, moaning into his mouth as his fingers circle against her clit. His tongue dips back into her mouth, the kiss a little more feverish than before. "Now, make me cum on your fingers and I might just let you fuck me on this piano," y/n says, pulling away to catch his reaction.
"Is that a promise?"
"I guess you got to make me cum to find out."
Ben groans, leaning in to kiss her once more; his tongue pushes between her lips in time with him sliding one finger inside her. This time she bucks her hips into him, him chuckling against her lips at this reaction. He places his free hand against her hip, pinning her down against the stool to stop her from moving. "You need to stop moving, angel," he pulls back, leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw. He stops at her ear, warm breath fanning her ear and neck. "You'll end up off the stool if you move too much," he whispers in her ear.
"I need more," she whines, fingers curling in her hair. She tugs gently on his locks as his finger continues to move at an agonisingly slow pace. She wanted to saviour every little bit as much as he did, but she also wanted to cum at some point tonight. "I need you to speed it up a little," she requests.
Ben obliges, slipping in a second finger. His thumb finds her clit, brushing in circles as he increased the speed of his two fingers. She moans for him as he curls his fingers, grazing over the all important spot. The spot that made her toes curl and her thighs shake. Not many could find that spot and it worked her up more to know his hands were made for more than just learning to play the piano.
"Oh, my god," y/n whimpers, head falling against his shoulder. The knot tightens inside her as she feels that all too familiar feeling building up. "Don't stop doing that," she encourages as his fingers curl once more.
"Cum for me, angel," Ben urges, ghosting his lips over her ear as he whispers into it, "just let yourself go."
Her hand squeezes his bicep as she reaches her orgasm, crying out into his shoulder, a string of profanities and his name leaving muffled by his skin. He's amazed at how tight she is clenching around his fingers, soaking them as he gently lets her down from her high.
"How was that?" Ben asks, pulling his hand out of her leggings. His hands settle once more on her waist, leaving her to lean against him.
"Ask me in a minute," y/n answers, her thighs twitching as she basks in the post-orgasm afterglow. His chuckle is deep in her ear, feeling him place soft kisses against her hair as he turns his head into her. "Only a few have done what you've just done," she openly admits to him, releasing her hold on his bicep as she pushes herself to sit up.
She glances across at his piano, the thought of having sex on it more appealing to her than before. Removing herself from his hold, she rises from the stool to shut the lid. The piano might have been one of her favourite sounds, but the noise that would come from every thrust was something she could do without hearing.
"You were being serious about the piano, huh?" Ben asks, watching as she turns herself around to face him.
"Deadly." She takes his hand, tugging at it until he rises to his feet in front of her. Her fingers skimmed over the bulge in his black shorts, before untying the string to loosen them. "Unless you don't want to have sex with me?" She ponders, taking her hand away.
"I do," he's eager to answer, fingers playing with the waistband of her leggings, "I really want to have sex with you, it's just I should go get-"
"They made the pill for a reason, Benjamin," y/n interrupts him, placing her finger over his mouth. He nods his head, definitely too eager to see this through the finish line. "Good," she tells him, both moving quickly to remove their bottoms. Ben lifted her up onto the edge of the piano, standing between her legs as wraps one around his waist. "Benji," she complained as he teased the head of his cock against her entrance, "Please, just put it in me already."
"You really need to work on your patience, angel," he taunts, pushing in the tip. His breath catches in the back of his throat, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he pushes all the way inside. "If only you could feel what I feel right now," he says, pulling out until it was just the tip left inside. He pushes back in, looking down to watch himself disappear inside of her. "It's crazy that this is happening right now."
She takes his face in her hands, pulling him in to press a sweet, loving kiss against his lips. "Do you want me to pinch you?" She asks, giggling as he shakes his head.
"If this is just a dream then I definitely don't want to wake up," he answers, keeping his thrusts at a steady pace.
"Had many dreams about me?" She doesn't mean to tease him, but the shadow of pink blush that spreads across the bridge of his nose is just too cute.
"All the time," the truth tumbles from his lips as he grunts into the air, "you're the only one in my dreams."
Steady whimpers and soft moans fill the air as he continues to thrust into her. He has one hand resting on her hip and the other tangled in her hair, bringing her in closer just enough for their lips to touch without actually kissing each other. The need to be as close to one another was desperate for both of them, both of y/n's arms wrapped tightly around him.
"I don't think I can last much longer," Ben grunts, the excitement getting the better of him. There's a red tinge of embarrassment across his cheeks. "I wanted this to last longer-"
"It's fine," y/n assures him, resting her forehead against his, "cum for me, Benji."
"I want us to come together," he counters, trying his best to fight off his orgasm.
She brings her hands down to cup his face, thumbs pressing circles into his beard. "I'm there with you," she tells him, clenching around him as her high starts to wash over her.
His fingers tighten in her hair, nails digging into her hip as he bottoms out. A series of grunts leave his lips as he manages a few more thrusts, washing her insides with his seed. "I love you," he whispers, y/n just managing to hear his confession.
She brings him in for a kiss, mouths lazily moving against each other. "I love you too, Benji," she reciprocates his omission, nodding her head when he pulls away to question her.
The two of them got cleaned up, y/n changing into a pair of Ben's shorts and one of his t-shirts, before they both collapsed onto his sofa. Ben slouched his arm around her shoulders, leaving a kiss against the top of her head.
"I can't believe I've just had sex on my piano," Ben laughs, shaking in his head in disbelief, "I can't believe I just had sex with my best friend."
"I know, right?" She settles on a movie for them to watch, choosing 10 Things I Hate About You. "Check that item off the bucket list."
This bit is for @blueathens who I know has been waiting for this!! 💕
If you stop being friends can you start being something else?
Amelia Miller’s life went up in flames 40 miles north of London on the M1. At twenty-four she buried her parents side by side and was left to wonder at questions of existence, and purpose, and fragility she should have been decades shy of. She’s painstakingly built a new life, one framed by incredible success and hard work, and grown in the kindness of new friendships. Her old university friends feel worlds away from who Amelia is at twenty-eight, and they hurtfully bump and scrape their way around her heart.
Harry Styles met Amelia at uni with the rest of them when they were forced into being a trivia team on a Freshers’ Week pub crawl. He doesn’t think he’s changed much from the earnest, overly hopeful teenager who pretended he knew how to drink a beer. That was eight years ago, before any of them had to learn what it meant to be a grown-up and well before Harry can pinpoint he started knowing who the hell he is. He’d like to say he hasn’t noticed how their little trivia team had soured over time, or that Amelia’s slowly been tearing herself away from them all. He’s not a liar though.
Amelia’s about to find out recalibrating allows some people surprise you and others to behave exactly how you expect them to.
A friends to lovers story about pub trivia, fraying adult friendships, and the squishy parts of us that break and heal.
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Link to Story Menu
Link to Spotify Playlist
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Part 1 - The Trivia Troupe
Part 2 - Our Drinking Team Has A Trivia Problem
Part 3 - We Paid 6 Quid for Trivia and All We Got Was Drunk
Part 4 - That’s What We Do, We Drink And We Know Things
Part 5 - We Were Wrong, We Drink And We Know Nothing
Part 6 - Existential Crisis Club, Lifetime Membership
Part 7 - It’s Not Small, It’s Just Trivial
Part 8 - We Got 99 Problems and This Quiz Is One
Part 9 - Taking Care of Quizness
Part 10 - We Come With A Spoiler Alert
This is going to be a Masterlist full of my favorite Harry Styles fanfictions and other's Masterlist that I recommend and love. The purpose of this Masterlist was originally for me to keep of all my favorite writings in one spot so I can come back to find them easily, but of course anyone is free to view. I actually encourage that you browse through this Masterlist and read these lovely stories.
I will separate and organize this Masterlist dependent on what the writing classifies under. I will separate Series: (has chapters with a continuous story line or one shots with the same plot & universe), One Shots: (really random fics that can have a variety of plots), dad!harry: (writings that are centered around Harry being a dad or states matter of factly Harry is a father), and any other categories I may create when I feel its needed. Then at the very bottom is where you'll find a list of Masterlist I recommend.
Also, I'll give you a mini review on what I thought about each (not including the Masterlist). Stickily my opinion though so take my review with a grain of salt.
This MASTERLIST will be updated frequently & each time, I'll reblog to let you know.
Last updated: (10-14-21)
*Please give these a read or and show the writers some support.*
Warning: will contain a lot of smutty fics!!!!!!!
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Series-
Sail The Widest Stretch by @beautifulletdownfics
A friends to lovers story about pub trivia, fraying adult friendships, and the squishy parts of us that break and heal.
Personal Review: Great 10 part story (very long chapters I might add) w/ a ending one shot. My only problem was the lack of details when it came to the smut scenes but that didn't push me away enough to not read. Defiantly recommend.
Only Human by @hsogolden
Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.
Personal Review: Not much to say. It's a very long 13 chapter fic that has a lot of angst, romance, and fluff.
Take it Slow by @atlafan
Y/N had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.
Personal Review: When I tell you this is my favorite Harry fic of all time I mean It. Its SOOO good. It's extremely long. 90 long chapters to be exact. Took me about 3 weeks to read. Lots of VERY DETAILED SMUT. Honestly would love this to become a movie it's so good. Also there is a sequel that's just as good. HIGHLY RECOMMEND if you love the idea of growing a life with Harry because that's what a lot of this is focused on.
My Everything by @atlafan
What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.
Personal Review: This is the sequel to Take it Slow and It's just as good. It continues their relationship. Its not as long chapter wise (only 20 chapters) but they are very long chapters. This fic made me cry harder than any movie or book I've ever read. Not because it was overly sad, but because of the emotional attachment I had with the characters and sad it ended. Also VERY HAPPY ENDING.
FROM EDEN by @harryhoney-bee
19th century!h / baker!h / forbidden love.
Personal Review: I tagged the Masterlist instead of listing every individual one-shot for this universe. This is a great continuing series that has great smut, great angst, and great fluff. Highly recommend if you're into au Harry fics.
Office Neighbors by @atlafan
You’re a new professor working towards your PhD, and Harry is your new office neighbor.
Personal Review: My third favorite Harry fic of all time. Great, detailed smut. All chapters are over 10k words long. Harry is his soft and caring personality that he has in real life. Harry is a single dad so that means dilf!harry. Great relationship evolution. Completed series as well. Just overall one of the best written fics i've read in a while. And i may have shed a tear or two at the end but it wasn't necessarily sad, i'm just a wimp.
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One Shots & Blurbs (random)-
Curious Girl by @permanentcross
Harry/You/Male of choice. Some blind eyes were turned during this for the sake of creativity and fantasy, but I kept it as tightly controlled as possible.
Personal Review: I love threesome Harry smuts and this one is great. Very naughty smut and rough sex. Very long as well.
OR STIMULATING HER WITH THE SHOWER HEAD. FUCK. by @secret-rendezvous1d
Harry uses shower head on his misses because her pregnant belly made sex uncomfortable.
Personal Review: It's very short but still a good smut.
in need for more by @harryimaginedstories
she wants to stay after sex.
Personal Review: Sexual but not smut. It's a very good fluffy fic. Not too short but not too long.
LET IT BLEED by @songbirdstyles
you’re on your period, and harry just wants to make you feel good.
Personal Review: The best period sex smut I've ever read. Plus it's not only period sex but it has a very smutty dry sex scene.
Alex from Dunkirk before he goes to war Smut by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
the night before Alex gets drafted for war, he makes sure to give you a night to remember by going on a date which leads to you both in bed making love all night long.
Personal Review: Its sort of short with not too much dialog but it's still very detailed in what they are doing. Also kind of sad because Alex (Harry) isn't sure if he'll be coming home from war.
Not Your Charity Case by @erodasfishtacos
Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?
Personal Review: The Harry in this series is SOOO sweet and their relationship is the cutest thing i've ever read. Also he's deaf. It's very long as well, with another one shot in this verse.
Finally Fitting In by @erodasfishtacos
Harry goes homes to meet Y/N’s family. He’s gets more then he expected. He starts to feel like he has a home.
Personal Review: Even better than the first one shot. It is a bit more sad but Harry is still as cute as ever and has a very charming personality even if he's deaf. Plus great smut!
Harry Teaches You How to Masturbate by @floralsatin
harry sitting behind you and teaching you how to masturbate but he ties ur legs to his legs cos u keep closing them
Personal Review: Its short and has a daddy kink involved but never the less hot smut.
Give Me Love-- Harry Styles by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
After you find out your boyfriend cheated on you, you end up getting drunk and calling Harry (your friends with benefits) and he comes over to have sex with you in the middle of the night. Then you realize you're in love with Harry and so does he.
Personal Review: Its super long with great smut. Also contains a lot of angst as well as fluff.
Friendly Competition by @rollingsins
Harry and Florence are competitive. A little too competitive, when it comes to you. Smut.
Personal Review: This is a very well written smut. Harry and Florence are both dominates to Reader and they argue over who pleasures Reader best. Super HOT!
Man’s Best Friend - One Shot by @atlafan
Y/n begins to catch feelings for her fwb Harry because he has a great connection with her dog.
Personal Review: I don't know what it is about atlafan's writing but i have never felt more connected to fanfic characters as i have with their characters. 10 out of 10 smut. Soft!harry. Quite long. The ending is a bit of a abrupt ending that i wish was continued but that's just a me problem. So highly recommend!
The Kids Are Alright by @atlafan
A single mom starts dating Harry, an oral surgeon, and their relationship becomes stronger until they end up getting married and Harry adopts her two children.
Personal Review: It was great. No smut but that didn't take away from how good it truly was. The fic is also quick pace and skips to different times in their relationship so it isn't crazy long (still long but not anything to crazy long) I may have cried while reading it even though it wasn't even that sad. I'm just a wimp.
DESIRE by @watchmegetobsessed
When you go to stay at your dad's cabin after just breaking up with your boyfriend, you find out you're not alone and your dad's best friend is staying there as well. Then you end up sharing your feeling for one another and things get heated.
Personal Review: Its very long, about 8700 words and its written well. The smut wasn't all that detailed but that didn't make it bad or anything. Plus older!harry is hot!!
Clingy by @atlafan
Harry is a really clingy boyfriend and gets insecure about his clinginess towards you when he over hears one of your friends talk about how they think it's weird how clingy he is towards you.
Personal Review: It's so cute. There is a small smut scene but its mostly fluff with mild to none angst. And it's long but not too long.
Bar Crossed Lovers by @atlafan
Two bartenders that are friends (that have sex) eventually catch feelings when they realize no one can make them feel as good as one another.
Personal Review: It's got fluff, angst, and smut. Written well and I highly recommend. The smut is top notch too.
Lover by @harryhoney-bee
Soft sex with boyfriendrry after the show, plus some domestic love <3
Personal Review: This was written so well and the details in the smut are amazing. If you enjoy soft and love making type sex, then this is a great reading option for you. It's a decent length, over 3k words, and with after care shown. Plus its HSLOT Harry.
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dad!harry-
In Sickness And In Health by @talesofstyles
After the birth of their twin babies, Harry and YN’s marriage suffers.
Personal Review: Great story. It's very sad with a lot of angst. And a great smutty sex scene.
Ivy Sick In The Night by @erodasfishtacos
harry being woken up in the middle of the night by ivy because she threw up all over herself and she’s crying trying to cuddle into him with vomit all over herself 😭
Personal Review: This is a super short blurb with ceo!harry and it's super fluffy.
Baby Steps by @enthusiasticharry
you’re harry’s sons therapist, and he isn't the only one you end up helping.
Personal Review: Its a singledad!harry fic that's super long and written very well. it has lots of fluff as well as a smut scene.
california dusk by @adore-laur
You give birth to your second baby (this time a at-home birth) and Harry is right beside your side to entire time
Personal Review: It was supper fluffy. Great in details and pretty long.
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Harry Styles Masterlist's Library-
(some i have read through a lot and some i haven't read through much but wanted to include because they are still popular in the Harry Styles fic community and it gives you options to browse through if you're trying to find something to read. but most i do advise you to look through because i have read through most listed below)
Eroda’s Fish Tacos Masterlist by @erodasfishtacos
MASTERLIST ☻ by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
Masterlist by @harryhoney-bee
harryforvogue’s blurb masterlist by @harryforvogue
Marvelous-Harry's Masterlist by @marvelous-harry
cottagecore!concept masterlist by @mouthfulloftoothpastehs
My shy little boy masterpost! by @all-my-love-for-harry
Masterlist. by @all-my-love-for-harry
Masterlist 🥨 by @sunandherflores
Friends to Lovers Masterlist by @meetmeinfleetwood
Masterlist by @finelinevogue
Master List. by @imagine-that-one-thing
FROMTHEDININTABLE’s masterlist by @fromthedinintable
MASTERLIST by @shawnsprincesse
Masterlist by @hswattpad
Harry Masterlist by @atlafan
Masterlist by @talesofstyles
MASTERLIST by @adore-laur
HARRY STYLES MASTERLIST .ೃ࿐ by @tobesobratty
Masterlist by @hsfankat
my masterlist. by @strawberryystyles
Love On Tour Masterlist by @harryhoney-bee
HSLOT Masterlist by @finelinevogue
Masterlist by @lollypopsx
Concepts Masterlist By @harryhoney-bee
my masterlist — harry styles only by @lovealwaysvictoria
- i persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? -
notes: just some typical angst from me because hey, why not? kind of made mason out to be a massive twat in this so sorry! but it’s just for the story and i obviously still adore that man!! sorry for any spelling / spacing errors. bit of a longer one because i got carried away so grab a cup of tea and enjoy the drama <3
You still aren't sure how long you've been staring at the photo on the bedside table. It could have been minutes, or hours for all you knew. You continue to study it carefully, taking in all of his perfect features. The exact way his hands used to wrap around your waist is still ingrained into your skin as if his fingers are still there, tracing the silk of the dress that you wore the evening that the photo was taken - his favourite he would always tell you. The way that you were both in mid laughter when the camera flash went off. You can’t remember exactly what he had whispered into your ear beforehand, but you know looking back that it was probably something mildly inappropriate with a hint of sarcasm, letting out that contagious laugh as you jokingly slapped his arm. Again, you're not sure as to why your eyes have been burning into that image for an unknown amount of time now. But there’s one thing that you are certain of,
You’ll never forget what you had together.
You know now with every single inch of your being that you should erase him from for mind, especially after what happened. You've moved on for the better and you couldn't be more thankful for the man who helped you on that journey. But you can’t stop yourself from yearning for his touch just one more time. You and Mason were childhood sweethearts, Young love never lasts, you were told. At the time you laughed it off, determined to prove everybody wrong. When you’re sixteen, you don’t want to listen to anybody who disagrees with your perception. And you were certainly no different. Whenever Mason was around, he was like an instant safety blanket. He was your home for so long when you felt alone in the world.
So maybe that’s what made it so hard when it all fell apart.
It started off slowly, panning over those final winter months of last year. The signs were subtle, but after a few weeks you began to pick up on his unusual behaviour and mannerisms that made him seem a shadow of his usual self. He began to stay out late and for longer than usual. At first you put it down to his busy schedule, knowing that late night training sessions were a favourite amongst some managers. But after bringing it up to Christian’s girlfriend over two cups of coffee, your heart sank slightly when she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before informing you that Mason’s fellow teammate had never trained underneath the pitch black London sky. You tried to put it to the back of your mind nonetheless, allowing Mason to wrap you up in his arms as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, promising to never let you go. You believed him, and for so long too. Looking back now you feel utterly stupid. You allowed him to play you like a game, taking advantage of the fact that you'd been together for so many years and knowing in his mind that you wouldn't have the nerve to walk away from everything that you'd built together.
But when he stopped questioning if you were coming to games with those usual wide eyes full of love for the woman who sits in front of him, a switch went off in your brain that something definitely wasn't right. Before that, you couldn't remember the last time that you missed a Chelsea home game. Away days weren't always the easiest to travel to, often having to opt for a TV screen as a substitution. But Stamford Bridge had become a second home to you; its blue seats and familiar, bustling atmosphere was like a drug that you never wanted to quit.
So on that day, you hesitantly told him that you indeed weren't going to attend the game against Everton for that upcoming weekend fixture, his reply simply a small hum of acknowledgement, not even bothering to meet your eyes as his own stayed fixated on his phone screen. It was weird at the time, but now it all makes perfect sense. On the morning of the game he left with barely a glance in your direction or a single word uttered from those lips that you onced loved to kiss. You tried to convince yourself that he was simply just nervous for the afternoon match, but you were slowly running out of excuses used to persuade yourself that everything was okay. You tried to distract yourself by cleaning the flat that you shared with Mason for three years, picking up one of his hoodies from his office room and burying your face into the material. The same aftershave that he'd worn for years felt like home, but in the worst way possible. Looking back upon that day, you still aren’t sure as to why you allowed tears to begin streaming down your face before knowing anything. You were still so naive to Mason’s intentions at that point, but the sudden change in his behaviour made you feel already somewhat aware - it was as if your heart already knew but your mind didn't want to comprehend the utter gut-wrenching outcome of it all.
Then you felt so guilty for accepting Kai’s girlfriend’s offer of accompanying her to the game. It felt like you were seventeen again, sneaking out behind your parents’ backs so you could go to a shitty party with nothing but cheap vodka and stolen cigarettes. But you didn't live with your parents anymore. You were twenty one and going to a game where your boyfriend was playing in front of thousands of adoring fans; why wouldn't you go?
Because you promised Mason that you weren’t going to.
Sitting in the stadium felt so different. You were sat amongst tens of thousands of people, but you'd never felt as lonely in your life. Mason’s name on your back felt unfamiliar and as if it didn't belong there - as if he didn't belong to you. Sophia chatted to you before the game. You smiled and nodded at her words, but nothing registered in your mind as words about common interests fell from her lips. You’d never felt like that before - the feeling was foreign and you already hated it.
Your heart began to beat rapidly once the players began to walk out of the blue tunnel. Usually you would have cheered widely along with the rest of the Chelse fans. But you stayed silent that game, almost pinned down into your seat by this new feeling that was slowly seeping through your veins. And then he appeared. The armband that was wrapped around his bicep almost made you throw up - he was captaining the team, a moment that he always loved to share with you, yet he obviously didn't want you to be there. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost when he glanced up to inspect the crowd and saw you sitting next to Sophia, hands firmly clamped between your thighs with a solemn look on your face. You were right all along - he didn't want you there. He wanted you at home, where he knew you wouldn’t be able to catch on to his act.
You kept your eyes on Mason for the whole game, gaze burning into the back of his shirt as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You didn’t know whether to feel anxious or relieved when the full time whistle blew. Chelsea won 1-0, but for once you didn’t care for the full time score. You needed to find Mason.
You exited the stands with Sophia who soon found Kai, Chelsea’s only goal scorer of the match. You smiled sweetly at them before glancing around the tunnel to try and find the one man who felt like more of a stranger than anyone else in the stadium.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
You whip your head around to see Ben smiling at you, but with a hint of doubt in his face. You raised your eyebrows momentarily - you were always a recognisable face at The Bridge. You would get on well with his teammates and significant others, accompanying Mason to every gathering that he attended. So you were apprehensive about Ben’s words. But maybe at that time you were overthinking again - Mason could have easily told them you were feeling unwell or working, “Yep. Here as usual.”
“So I'm guessing you’re here for Mason?” Ben’s face had dropped since he had greeted you, frown upon his lips and a look in his eyes that you just couldn’t place once he had mentioned your boyfriend’s name.
“Who else would I be here for?” You chuckled nervously, heart beginning to race. Something felt wrong - so so wrong.
Ben looked at you with sympathy in his eyes that you didn't understand at the time. He pulled you to one side of the tunnel with a small frown on his lips. He didn't want to be the one to tell you the truth that afternoon. But it was clear that you were completely unaware of what had been happening behind your back during the previous months. You got on with Ben, a close friendship that blossomed over the previous few years due to his place on the England squad. He saw the complete and utter love you had for his Chelsea and international teammate, the way your face lit up whenever he walked out onto the pitch and the way you clung onto each other after a match, peppering kisses all over his head despite his resemblance to a wet dog that had been let loose with a hose pipe.
You didn't deserve any of it. And Ben knew that.
He took a deep breath, hands on your shoulders to steady you from the blow that he would deliver just moments later, “He’s been telling everyone that you’ve broken up - a few weeks ago. Apparently.”
Your body felt completely numb. You opened your mouth to reply, but absolutely no words formed in your mind to describe the utter vulnerableness that you felt at that moment. Ben watched on, the same sympathy in his eyes as he pulled you into his chest. He almost had tears forming in his own eyes when he realised he hadn't even gotten to the worst part of it all. But you had to know - you deserved to know the extent of Mason’s actions despite the fact that he was almost certain that it would kill you. He whispered your name in such a gentle manner that you momentarily forgot about his previous words. Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment as the hot tears continued to fall down your cheeks. Ben pulled you in closer before he closed his eyes,
“I don’t want to be the one telling you this. It really should be Mason telling you - but he won’t,” He paused, biting his lip before mumbling into your ear, “He’s seeing someone else. For the past tw- two months. He's been seeing this girl. I'm so sorry, I had no idea that you were still together - none of us did.”
It was all clicking together too quickly. That was the reason he didn't want you at his games; because he already had somebody there cheering him on - except it was somebody that he loved and not somebody that had become a burden to that lavish bachelor lifestyle that he so craved. A fling. You couldn't hold it in any longer, “She’s out there in the crowd, isn't she? Shes there Ben, watching him fucking play. I know - I just know it”
Ben didn't reply to that, but his face told you everything.
You allowed it to eat away at you for the following two weeks. Two whole weeks, fourteen long days and three hundred and thirty six dreadful hours of spending every waking moment with the mental image of Mason with another woman in your mind, and then spending the nights sleeping in the same bed with a man who was obviously falling out of love with his lover who keeps the tears locked up behind her eyes as she traces the patterns on the bedroom ceiling to distract herself from the cracks that were beginning to appear on her heart. Ben’s words echoed around your mind. He messaged you a few times over that awful time to ensure that you were okay. He was just as angry at Mason as you were - maybe even more. He regretted not telling you sooner, but he just didn't know how or if it was even his place to intervene. You didn't blame him one bit. The situation was never Ben’s fault and you made that clear to him every time you spoke that you were thankful that he told you that day. Mason lied to him, and Ben had no reason to question him about it. It wasn’t his fault,
It was Mason’s.
But after that fortnight, you reached your limit. Mason looked so infuriatingly perfect as he lay in your once shared bed. His hair resting against the headboard, the overgrown fluffiness of it standing up slightly from the growing length. His shirt was absent from his body, leaving his toned stomach on full display. He looked beautiful; and that only made you hate him more and more. You felt sick at the thought that another woman had seen him like that, his beauty exposed of which only you were meant to see. You - the woman he loved. Loved.
He had loved you. But something had changed, and at that point, the feelings of yearning and admiration were merely one sided. And it definitely wasn’t him who wanted you.
“Mase?”
Silence.
“What?” Fuck. You only realised looking back how monotone and unfamiliar his voice was. The love and kindness in his words had disappeared completely and were replaced with a tone that dripped with annoyance and downright boredom.
You swallowed thickly, “Do you love me?”
You wanted to say more - so much more. But you couldn't think straight back then, only wanting the answer to a question that had been lingering there for so long. When Mason didn't dare to meet your eyes or utter a single word, your heart broke all over again. It all slotted into place in the jigsaw of your heartbreak.
The man you adored more than anything was no longer in love with you. - And there was nothing you could have done to change that.
“Why are you asking weird questions just before going to sleep?” He didn't deny it. Not once did he deny anything. Yes, the guilt seeped throughout his body, but for some reason Mason did not regret his actions then. He didn't regret giving that young woman his number. He didn't regret using his mouth to leave dark marks all over her neck. And he certainly didn't regret lying her down with a smirk on his lips, her perfume still lingering on top of the duvet that you would sleep with every night.
Mason broke your trust,
And he couldn’t have given less of a shit.
A part of you thought that he would beg you to stay. But he never did. He apologised a few days later, but it clearly wasn't sincere, with not one genuine emotion behind those eyes that had spent so many hours gazing into. You still remember the exact grip that you had on that suitcase as you wheeled it out of the door. The boot of the car was piled high with belongings. Your belongings.
You left a piece of yourself in that west London flat, a fragment of your heart that you will still never get back. You felt utterly alone once again. Mason was your everything for so long, and you had no idea how to survive without him. You found comfort in the most unlikely people - his teammates. Especially a dark haired left back.
Ben took you in with no hesitation. Every training session after that, he glared at Mason with eyes like daggers. Some of the other lads slowly began to find out, but kept themselves out of it all. You didn’t want this to affect the team and potentially ruin lifelong friendships. He didn’t want to keep bringing it up, but sometimes you hesitantly questioned Ben for updates about Mason. Ben confessed that he and his so-called mistress were indeed still together, but he reassured you that it wouldn’t last for long and that Mason will soon regret his actions. You were glad, but you didn’t want him back.
And Ben was right. Things did end between Mason and his mistress. You didn’t know why, and you didn’t really want to. You didn’t care for her, and especially not for him. Eventually, it all caught up to Mason a few months later.
You still attended Chelsea games. But it wasn’t for him. It was for Ben. Mason watched as you cheered his name instead of his. He watched as the 19 on your back was replaced with 21. And Mason watched as you ran up to his teammate after a game and wrapped your arms around his shoulders before leaning in.
Leaning in to kiss him.
You kissed Ben with those same lips that used to trace Mason’s neck with a small giggle escaping them. And the fact that Ben was the one by your side made it a hundred times worse for Mason. Maybe it was because he was his teammate who he had no choice but to acknowledge every time he stepped foot in that changing room. Or maybe it was that Mason knew Ben would treat you better than he ever did. You honestly never intended to fall for Chelsea’s number 21. It took so long to realise how to love again - but it was Ben who taught you how to. He was kind, compassionate and put you first - something that Mason struggled to do during the last months of your relationship.
He broke down every night. Whilst you were curled up on the sofa with Ben, Mason was still in that flat with reddened eyes and shaking hands. The guilt was eating him alive and he was surprised that it took that long to set in. Maybe it was seeing you with somebody else who treats you like you deserved. Declan tried to be there for him. He didn’t agree with Mason’s actions whatsoever, giving him harsh lectures most days. But he couldn’t stand around and let his best friend cry himself to death.
And now Mason is exactly the same, tears streaming down his face like yours once did as Declan watches on, unsure what else to do. Mason gazes down at a photo of you both on his phone - the same exact photo. Just one last time he wishes that he could put his hands on your waist and whisper into your ear about how irresistible you look in that dress. It was his favourite.
Every day Mason resists the temptation to call you. But he doesn’t, because he knows that you have someone better now, someone kinder with a bigger place in his heart for you that Mason will never live up to.
Mason inhales with a shaky voice, “Dec, do you ever think she'll forgive me?”
In which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.
Daddy issues- Masterlist / alternatively, read on A03 or wattpad
Part 12 (Word count: 3.9k)
You woke up with a gasp. You were confused as to what was happening as your eyes tried adjusting to the dark room, but when you heard Harry hum against your neck it all came back to you.
You were in his bed. In his arms. In a relationship, officially, with this man.
The very thought caused you to grin ear to ear and well, maybe what he was doing was playing a part in it also. His large, warm hand was groping your left breast gently as he spooned you under the covers, neither of you having bothered putting clothes back on. In fact, you couldn’t even remember how you’d fallen asleep. What time was it, anyway? It was still dark “You should know,...” your breath caught a bit as he dragged his wet lips up and down your throat before lapping at that perfect spot in the crook of your neck “I’m really not a morning person”
“It’s not morning” he mumbled between kisses “It’s the middle of the night”
You giggled silently at his wise ass remark “And why are you waking me up in the middle of the night, Harry?”
“Because I can” he bit your earlobe, his tone changing slightly. “Because now whenever I wake up hard and wanting, thinking about you, I can actually have you. And I’ll have you again. And you’ll take it, like a good girl that you are, aren’t you baby sweetheart?”
“Fuck” you hissed under your breath as he pressed himself against your ass and you could feel just how hard it was, that coupled with the tone of his voice immediately got you wet “Where’s all this stamina coming from? You’re wiping the floor with guys my age” you couldn’t help but tell him that. You knew it’d stroke his ego, but it was true. None of the men you’d been with, all of which were considerably younger, were even close to his sexual drive.
“You’re with a real man now, sweetheart” he groaned groping your ass harshly “You’ll find I’m quite insatiable, especially when it comes to you” he raised your left leg, resting it over his knee as he positioned himself just right behind you and guided himself through your folds “So perfect for me, my good girl. Look how ready you are for daddy already. Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it? Always needing to be filled up nice and snug, aren’t you?”
“Oh my fucking God” you threw your head back getting even closer to him and he snaked his hand up your torso and around your throat, squeezing slightly as he used you as leverage while he pushed himself into you. It still wasn’t a fluid motion, and you didn’t think it’ll ever be, but that moment when he pushed past your barriers and got the thickest part of himself inside you made your breath catch and not because of his hand around your neck. He wasn’t choking you, but the possessiveness of the act was doing unspeakable things to you “You’re so big” you whined “I never think you’re gonna fit, but then you do and oh, fuck” you were rambling and you could hear the silent chuckle deep in his chest
“How can I sleep when I could be fucking you instead?” he pushed further in “When you’re right here, in my arms, in my bed, finally. Woke up and for a split second I forgot that you’re all mine now, princess. The rush I felt when I remembered went straight to my cock” he moaned when you pushed back onto him, helping him set a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow but definitely intense “If it were up to me, I’d never let you leave this bed. Want to fuck you all day long tomorrow. And the next day. You’re not going anywhere this weekend. Gonna bury myself deep inside of you whenever I see fit. Don’t want you wearing anything around the house but this t-shirt that’s barely covering that perfect arse of yours. Want you smelling like sex, like us” he nuzzled your neck again as he sped up a little, his hand leaving your throat and grabbing your breast, tweaking your bud with his thumb
“So good, daddy” you moaned, arching your back “Want you inside me all the time. Fill me up. Want to be full of you. Want to feel you deep, so deep. Want to feel you in my tummy”
“Fuck, you’re such a filthy little thing, aren’t you. Asking me to go deeper, want me to wreck this pretty pussy of yours, don’t you sweetheart? Want me to make sure you can’t walk tomorrow? You’re not going anywhere, anyway. Might as well” he grunted as he pounded into you mercilessly, holding you by your hipbone now, his fingers sinking into your skin so harshly that you knew he’d leave bruises.
“Yes, yes, fuck me good, daddy. Wish you’d never stop” you cried out and before you knew it he flipped you onto your stomach, and trapped you beneath his rock hard body. He didn’t crush you, but he did rest some of his weight on you and it felt absolutely delicious. He pressed you deeper and deeper into the mattress with every thrust “Yes, oh God, just like that. Please!”
“Love it when you beg daddy to fuck you, baby” he brought all your hair to the side, ghosting his wet mouth over the shell of your ear “You’re so close already, I can feel your little pussy fluttering around me. Feels so good, sweet girl. I can feel my cock hitting your womb like this. Like that? Like me deep, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes” your voice muffled “Oh God, I'm gonna come, I’m gonna come hard, daddy!”
“You’re gonna come, and then you’re gonna fall right to sleep with me still inside of you. And when I get hard again I’m gonna wake you right back up” he thrust his hot tongue in your ear at that and you cried out, spasming around him, your body convulsing the best it could while being pinned down deliciously.
He chased his own release, then, and as promised, you fell asleep feeling his cum slowly drip between the two of you as he pulled you to your sides with a contented sigh, making sure not to slip out.
And sure enough, he woke you up once more right before dawn. You were barely awake, and so was he, as he lazily moved inside you. No words were spoken as he kept a slow pace, sneaking his hand to your front and working your clit with a feather-like touch. You were all sticky from previously, the room smelled of sex and sleep and you didn’t even open your eyes the whole time. You cried out when you came, somehow not having expected your orgasm to hit you that hard, it all felt like a fever dream. He buried his head in your neck and bit down on your shoulder when he followed, but made no move to remove himself once more, and you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
*
You were woken up with sweet pecks all over the side of your face and the smell of Harry’s aftershave jolted you awake more than anything else. You didn’t open your eyes, opting to bury your face in the pillow, mumbling “I thought I told you I’m not a morning person”
He chuckled lightly “It’s noon. C’mon. Get up, sweetheart. I’m getting lonely” he whined playfully and you couldn’t help but open one eye to peak at him
“Wow. Stooping to cheap tearjerkers now”
He grinned “But it’s true. C’mon. I made you coffee. A fresh pot. The one I originally made went stale waiting for you to wake up already”
You rolled your eyes and turned on your other side, away from him “Five more minutes”
“Y/N, don’t make me pull this duvet off of you! If I do then you really won’t be getting out of bed anytime soon” he warned
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
At that he yanked the covers off of you, you were quick to grab at them but just barely, and now your ass was hit with the cold harsh reality of this morning-slash-noon “Harry!” you squealed playfully but the humor was short lived when you felt his palm land on your behind in one swift motion “Ow!” you jumped away from his touch but he caught your ankle and dragged you towards the edge of the bed
“Fuck, you need a shower, princess. You’re all sticky still” he groaned as he flipped you over, exposing you to him thoroughly “I know another way I could rid you of that mess between your thighs, though” he added, huskily
“Oh my God! Ok, fine, I’ll get up! Please, I still feel like I need to sleep for at least another day to fully recover”
He chuckled and you could see his chest inflate, his ego threatening to burst free “Alright, I’ll take pity on you this once” he leaned over, his arms on each side of your face and bent to kiss you
“No! Morning breath!” you turned your head to the side and managed to wiggle your way underneath him and into the en suite leaving behind an amused Harry
After your shower you made your way into the kitchen where he was standing at the island, on his laptop, those same glasses back on his face and, although you were deliciously sore you couldn’t be immune to that image.
“What did you do with my clothes?” you huffed, strutting inside in that same t-shirt he gave you to wear to bed, your hands on your hips
“I told you I want you wearing nothing but that this weekend, didn’t I?” he looked at you over the rim of his glasses and gestured for you to go over and hop on the counter
You did as instructed and no sooner did you hop on next to his laptop that he framed your jaw and brought you in for a proper kiss “Don’t like you denying me kisses” he muttered as he pulled away just slightly, his lips still hovering over you
“I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet!”
“Were you serious about that?” he furrowed his brows, pulling further back “I couldn’t give a single fuck about that, Y/N. Do you, really?”
“No, I don’t” you lowered your gaze a little, feeling silly for having fretted about something like that “I’m sorry”
He smiled “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Just wanna kiss my girlfriend. C’mere”
Your lips clashed against his and you both couldn’t stop smiling in order to kiss properly “I like how that sounds” you whispered between kisses
“Mmm. You’re telling me?” he raised his eyebrows looking at you from underneath his long lashes. His eyes looked extra green that morning, or was it the thick black frame of his glasses that was making them pop? Either way, he looked too good to be true. Clean shaven, which you weren’t against, as long as you got to see the scruff back in a short while, his hair was still disheveled but looked effortlessly amazing, and he’d put back on his shorts and t-shirt. Which reminded you-
“How about you at least give me those panties you stole, again. Have they even dried? Why’d you have to keep them in your pocket, you deranged man?” you palmed his pockets and finally found what you were looking for, but it was not lost on you that he was already getting hard just by kissing you
“You found them way too quickly” he teased “I think you should search some more, who knows what else you might find in there”
You barked out a laugh. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” he toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, acting all innocent
“Is sex really on your mind constantly? Never met someone quite as horny” you raised an eyebrow, swatting his hand away
“It is when you’re around… Or away, for that matter” he grinned devilishly and you laughed again, shaking your head in mock disdain
You made to hop off the counter and maybe extricate yourself somehow so that you could put on said panties, but he kept you in place “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Wanna put these on, if you must know”
He creased his brows “Tsk. We talked about this”
“No, you talked about this. I want to place a barrier between myself and the place where you eat”
“Now there’s a concept” he groaned, leaning into you and you scoffed incredulously
“Don’t even go there! C’mon. I was promised coffee”
His shoulders sagged in defeat as he let you hop off the counter “Why do I get the feeling that we got this the other way around. You’re supposed to be the young, eager one. Or are you tired of me already?” he pouted playfully
You squinted your eyes at him and couldn’t help but notice a tinge of vulnerability in his own. Was this why he’d fucked you countless times already in the short timespan you’d been there? Was he afraid you were going to grow tired of him, did he feel like he had to prove his stamina to you somehow?
“I’ll show you young and eager” you whispered menacingly, never leaving his eyes as you sank to your knees in front of him. His eyes widened as he watched you use your panties to tie your hair up in a messy bun, the t-shirt hunched up around your waist, putting on a proper show for him
You yanked his shorts down his legs without warning, gasping when his cock sprang free, hitting his navel with how hard he was already “Fuck. How can I ever grow tired of you? Look at you” you stared at his manhood, and still wondered how in hell he ever got it to fit inside you. He was massive. You’d probably never get over it. He hissed when you grabbed his shaft running your palm over his tip and spreading his precum all over “Fuck, you’re hard as steel. How is it even possible?” you’d meant that mainly for yourself but you knew Harry had a praise kink, you’d figured that out early on and you weren’t going to keep quiet especially since you meant every word “I can barely walk. And here you are, unscathed at full mast” you took him inside your wanting mouth, moaning at the feeling of having his heavy, velvety smooth cock in your mouth, swiping your tongue around his tip before pulling back “C’mon. Feed me, daddy. Haven’t had anything to break my fast yet. Want it to be your hot cum shooting down my throat”
“Fuck” he groaned loudly, tugging at the nape of your neck, burying his fingers in your tied up hair there “When’d you get so vocal all of a sudden, hm?”
“I have my moments” you shrugged “Want you to shut me up now, though” you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out waiting for him to fuck it properly and he didn’t miss a beat. He thrust past your lips and kept a slow rhythm at first, but when you grabbed his ass and urged him deeper he wasn’t hesitant to deliver.
You gagged around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose but that only made him lose his mind and fuck your mouth even harsher. The sounds he was making were absolute bliss, and you could feel yourself drip down your thighs, it was a massive turn-on getting him off like this. You moaned as you felt him get closer and closer and knew that’d tip him off the edge, and when he came, you made sure you took him as deep as possible so that he could shoot right down your throat and avoid having him overspill in your mouth like the previous time. You’d meant to take him fully, to bury your nose in his navel but it was simply not possible. You doubted it was humanly possible for anyone to manage such a feat, but you were determined to try your best every time anyway.
He pulled out, letting out a laughter under his breath “Fuck me… You’re too good at this for your own good”
You smirked, licking your lips and he helped you up, kissing you thoroughly as soon as you were standing on your shaky legs “I love it” you spoke against his lips, kissing him some more “Love everything you do to me”
He groaned, pulling you in closer but you pulled away “Gotta give me some actual food now, if you want me to work up my energy”
“Thought you weren’t a breakfast kinda girl”
“I am when I’m fucked halfway into my grave”
He chuckled “Alright. Fair’s fair. I’ll throw something together. Gotta make a fresh pot of coffee for the third time this morning, though”
“I’ll make the coffee” you offered with a final peck as you pulled away and went searching in his cabinets
You caught him staring as you turned around, and surprisingly, he wasn’t ogling your ass that had been briefly on display as you reached for the ground coffee “What?”
He shook his head, giving you a lopsided smile “Just… wish you hadn’t found the coffee right away. Like seeing you here, in my kitchen”
You couldn’t help the blush that was spreading over your cheeks as you returned the smile and went on to make coffee as promised while he looked for stuff in his fridge. You eyed what ingredients he was pulling out and realized he was probably going to make an omelette.
He cracked the eggs open into a bowl and stared at them for a long moment “Y/N?”
“Hm?”
He finally glued his eyes away from the bowl. “Do I need to run out to the pharmacy?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
He gave you a pointed look “Do I need to get you a Plan B?”
“Oh” you stammered “Oh, no. It’s fine. I’m… on the pill. And I’m clean. I, uhm. I…” he tilted his head to the side waiting for you to get the words out “I’ve always used a condom on top of that”
He nodded, searching your face “‘m sorry. Should’ve discussed this properly beforehand. Pretty reckless that we didn’t, I never skip protection. I mean, besides my ex wife. And that was a long time ago”
“Ok, so we’re good” you perked up, trying to lighten the mood “It’s fine. I would’ve said something had it not been. And I trust you, I knew you weren’t going to skip it had there been any... issues”
“Still pretty irresponsible” he muttered under his breath as he resumed whisking the eggs in the bowl and you poured the fresh coffee into two mugs, taking your time to do so
“Do you… not trust me?” you asked, your voice small
“Of course I do”
“Then why is this an issue?”
“It’s not. I’m just… thinking”
“What about?”
He inhaled audibly “I’m thinking about what Emily might have done in that situation, and how I hope she never has to feel like she has to make a decision like that in the heat of the moment” he looked at you then, and he looked apologetic for having brought that up
“Hey, that’s a legit concern. I’m sure she’s very capable of making good decisions, though. She’s too much like you not to. By the way” you remembered, “What’s she doing for her birthday?”
“Her birthday? Why’d you ask?”
You gave him a look “Well, isn’t it today?”
Harry’s brows furrowed as he poured the wicked, seasoned eggs into a heated pan “No. Not for another 4 months, it isn’t” he searched for a spatula then turned to look at you “Hey. Are you alright?” he smiled, his brows furrowed in confusion “You look like you’ve seen a ghost”
“I didn’t but I probably will after I kill my idiot brother” you muttered
He sighed exasperatedly “Did he mistook her birthday for today? … What a piece of work”
You cleared your throat “Something like that”
“Speaking of work…” he glanced at you as he flipped the omelette. Your stomach was churning, it smelled amazing. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been actually salivating over scrambled eggs “I wanna run something by you”
“Shoot”
He turned off the stove and placed the pan to the side “I was going to leave tomorrow. For California”
“Oh?”
“I have a client there, and she requested I’d go work for this project on site. She’s renovating her mansion. I also did the previous design. She wants a whole new approach. She’s vacationing in Europe and wants me to go in while she’s gone and rethink the whole thing”
“Wow. That sounds like a lot of thinking to be thought”
He smiled and went to grab some plates. “I was uhm… Wondering if maybe you’d want to come along” when he didn’t hear you reply he turned around with the pan in his hands. You’d sat down at the table, having placed the plates on their respective mats “Y/N? Did you hear me?”
You looked up at him and then back to your plate as he poured half the omelette onto it and then the rest onto his “Yeah”
He dropped the plate into the sink and then sat next to you at the table, bringing cutlery along “So, what do you say?”
“I mean… I got my work…”
“But you can work remote. The timezone difference is just one hour. I think you’d like it there” when you didn’t look up at him and kept staring at your plate he added “You can say no, it’s totally fine. It just… doesn’t feel right to go away when...” he reached out and grabbed your hand gently “When we only just began, you know?”
You looked at him then, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something, but words just weren’t coming out, your mouth closing and opening several times with no result. The fact that your brother had lied about the money you lent him was still fresh in your mind and now to have Harry land this huge proposition on you… You felt overwhelmed
“Hey. ‘M’sorry. You don’t have to make up your mind right away” he kissed your hand with a smile on his face but you could tell he was disappointed that you hadn’t shown any enthusiasm at his invitation “Dig in, it’s getting cold”
And you should’ve said something, anything to explain your momentary inability to form a coherent phrase. But you were too afraid to. So you just gave him a small smile and began eating your omelette, your appetite suddenly gone.
A/N: mainly smut, a bit of plot if you squint. sorry not sorry😅
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