as you can probs tell i have not been very active on this blog lately and that’s because i binged the pitt and have become fully obsessed lol so no new ukyt fics anytime soon but i’m still here lurking and i love you guys <3
summary: you come home from uni to visit your family and on an impromptu visit to your local pub with some friends you bump into alfie - though he doesn’t look anything like he did in school
a/n: i have not edited this, so if you see any mistakes ignore them or politely let me know! but i hope you enjoy anyways even though it’s probably a complete mess.
main masterlist | masterlist
cw: car sex, riding, switch! alfie, switch! reader, alcohol consumption, smoking (cigarettes), slight overstim. theres anything else let me know!
It was just any other weekend of you visiting home. Seeing your parents for a bit, your mother badgering you about your classes, your father telling her to give you space to breathe. Then it was visiting your grandparents who, like usual, overfed you to the point you thought you were going to burst. So, when Poppy asked if you wanted to go for a drink or two with the rest of the girls you obviously said yes. A quiet night with your girls like old times, just the thing you needed to round out your short trip home.
Harrogate never failed to feel smaller when you came home from Uni, but that familiar buzz of the local you had grown up in pulls you back into your old ways, laughing and mouthing off like you had never left.
You were laughing with Louise behind the bar when you felt him squeeze up next you asking for two pints and vodka lemonade. You turned towards the voice, the face all too familiar but something was different.
Alfie Buttle was stood next to you with a lazy smirk that complimented his sharp, charming features. He looked good, he wasn’t that lanky boy from school anymore.
Instead he stood taller, towering over you, and his shoulders were broader filling out his shirt in a way that made you pause. You physically had to force yourself to turn away from him, but as you did your eyes caught the curve of his bicep as he leaned casually against the bar: when did he get so hot?
“Didn’t think I’d see you back here so soon,” he says, flashing a half-smile that held a cockiness that hadn’t been there before, “yknow going to a fancy uni and that.”
You let out a small laugh, pretending you weren’t suddenly overly aware of how close you were to him, “Yeah, just visiting for the weekend. We should,” you start, and then the lie tumbling out a little too easily, “catch up soon.”
“Sure,” he nodded but the promise is just as empty as yours.
Louise placed down both of your drinks looking between you with a knowing look before shooing you both away. You grabbed your drink, “Well, it was nice seeing you, Alfie.” You flashed him a smile before walking back to your table pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
Alfie turned back to his mates while you rejoin your own. Both of you sitting down on opposite sides of the pubs yet completely taking over each other’s thoughts. Your friends continued chat about their lives and no matter how hard you tried to listen, to engage in the conversation, you kept catching yourself looking across the room.
And each time, his low lidded eyes were already latched onto you.
Hours had passed, you were now a good few vodka cranberries deep and had stepped into the smoking area with one of the girls, the crisp autumn air pouring over you like ice as you left the warm of the pub. As you lit your cigarette, you listened to Poppy’s rambles about a boy from the village she had been speaking to over the last few months and how he is speaking to other girls as well. You were trying so hard to keep up with her fumbling but your mind wa still preoccupied by Alfie, and his arms, and his lips.
“Oh, hi, Alfie.” Poppy greeted, her red hair bouncing as she waved him over.
He slid into the small huddle you had created with a practiced ease standing just close enough so that your arm brushed his when you shifted your weight. The heat radiating off of him was dizzying under the frost of the air. He didn’t say much as Poppy continued her rant, he just glanced between you and the cigarette resting between your lips.
“Mind if I…?” he asked, gesturing to it.
You plucked it from your lips handing it over without a word, fixated on the way his lips curl around the filter, the way his eyes meet yours as he inhaled. Something shifted in the air. Poppy mumbles something about heading back inside, but you barely hear her go.
The silence between the pair of you was vibrating in your ears as you passed the cigarette back and forth for a little while until he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “You got plans after this?”
You shook your head before you could even process what was about to happen and then within minutes you were stumbling into the back of his Defender with the door clicking shut behind you trapping you against him.
The faint smell of aftershave and pine wrapped around you as you shifted trying to catch your breath but before you could, Alfie’s arms caged you against the seat. His lips crashed against yours with a maddening heat. Every touch sending heat up your spine making you curl into him.
Your fingers tangled in the fabric covering his shoulders, clutching him close as his weight pressed you deeper into the leather. The SUV’s suspension groaning with each shift of his frame, his hands becoming greedier by the second, one pressed into the small of your back pulling you flush against him, the other sliding under the tight fabric of your top. His palm splayed flat across your skin sliding higher until his thumb brushed against the edge of your laced bra.
A low groan escaped his throat as he pressed himself into you, the feeling of his length hardening against you making you gasp. His mouth parted from your, his breath ragged as his mouth trailed lower, crossing your jaw and down the length of your throat leaving marks in his wake. You arched higher into him when his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your collarbone arched into him when his teeth grazed the delicate skin there, and his answer was a low moan against your soft skin.
Suddenly, you were pulled from your lying position and into his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs. The unexpected shift pushed any air from your lungs, and the solid heat of him pressed against yours through denim became impossible to ignore. His large hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding your hips urging you to move against him. The friction made your breath hitch and you tipped your head back against the cool leather of the headrest of the passenger seat as you continued to rock in the clumsy rhythm.
“I’ve always wanted this, yknow,” he murmured against the base of your next, the hand on your hip now at the back of your next as he pulled you into another deeper, filthier kiss. Each movement rushed as your tongues and teeth clashed in dominance. Alfie only winning when his hand slid over the thin lace, the pad of his thumb brushing against your nipple until it pebbled under his touch and your helpless sounds filled the small space of his car.
The windows of the car fogged from the heat that engulfed you, every slight movement making the car shift. Time felt nonexistent against the heat of his mouth and the strength of his grip. The feeling of him bucking up into your clothed heat making quiet gasps slip from your lips, the clothes keeping you from feeling every inch of his body against yours felt unbearable. Each kiss that was peppered on your kiss felt like a sacred promise that was seconds away from spilling from him.
His hands roamed freely as if you were only his to explore, and as your hips rolled in-sync with his, you knew exactly where this was heading and neither of you had any intention of stopping.
The hands under your top moved until they were gripping the hem and you detached from him with a soft whine letting him rip the fabric off your body. Before you could even move, he pushed the fabric of your bra from your tits, and his lips attached themselves to your nipple sucking and licking until unholy words trickled from your mouths and your hands threaded into his hair.
“You’re fucking unreal.” Alfie muttered, his eyes glistening as he stared up at you, “Like an angel.”
You felt your face burn at his compliment suddenly very aware about the situation at hand. His hands fell to your waist, his thumbs drawing mindless shapes as he continued his assault on your nipple making your head drop back between your shoulder blades.
“Fuck,” The breathless word fell from your mouth as your hips ground down making him grip you tighter, “please.”
The plead would’ve went unheard if Alfie’s every sense wasn’t focused on you buy the second it met his ears; he swung into action. He shifted positions, moving you to lay along the back bench once again and he tugged his shirt off his frame rolling it into a ball and slotting it under your head which made your heart melt.
Then he moved to his buckle and his button, and suddenly you were grateful that you had chosen a skirt tonight. Alfie’s roughs found the fat of your thighs massaging into them lightly making you mewl, and with each sound he travelled closer to where you want him the most.
His fingers slipped around the waist band of your matching lace underwear, and he pulled them down not needing anymore permission when you lifted your hips to give him access.
They fell to the floor of his car and he stared at you for a moment. Your hair haloing your head, body glistening with sweaty under the moonlight that filtered the car, almost completely bare for him.
“I can’t believe this is real,” He muttered, his hands tracing your outline as he took in everything that was happening.
Your hands ran up his torso outlining every inch of his body before meeting his shoulders, “Kiss me, please.”
Alfie groaned at your words, the pure want and need in your voice going straight to his dick making it throb. His lips attached to yours again and he caged your head between his arms, his biceps inches away from your face. Your hands slid from his shoulders, nails biting into the muscles of his arms and your legs wrapped themselves around his waist pulling him down.
Taking the hint, Alfie reached between you flicking up your skirt and his fingers slid over your hole which was dripping, “Shit.”
“Just fuck me.”
A breath hitched in his throat as his throat bobbed with a gulp, and he nodded lining up his leaking tip with your heat. A needy gasp fell on his ears as he slid in slowly making your back arch into him locking against him like a jigsaw, “Fuck,” you gritted.
“You okay?” He whispered, his thumb wiping away a small tear that fell from your eye, “We can stop.”
“Just,” You whimpered, “Just keep going, please.”
He nodded bucking into you once again making you bite down on your lip trying to keep the noise that were bubbling in your throat at bay, “Don’t go quiet on me now, princess.”
Your eyes screwed shut as your lips parted a moan leaving your mouth before you could even process it. Each of his thrusts hitting right where you need it, your nails dug so deep into his skin that you were scared you’d break skin. Quickly, your hands unlatched from his biceps and scrapped along his abs making him hiss at the sensation.
His arms moved from the leather of the seats and he scooped you up in one movement moving to sit back and you placed delicately on his lap, “So fucking pretty.” He muttered, his hands cupping your tits as you slid off his dick before dropping back down again followed by a string of unintelligible words from Alfie as he tipped his head back letting you take over.
Your hips rolled forwards as your lips met the soft skin under his ear, and he shivered pulling you close feeling you smile against his skin, “C’mon girl, show me what you can do.” He muttered against your hairline.
You straightened at his words looping your hands around his neck rolling your hips once again before bouncing slightly, his cock rubbing against your gspot making you mewl quietly as you continued your pace chasing the high you had been thinking about since you locked eyes in the pub.
“Keep doing that,” He whimpered, one his hands fondling your tit as the other wrapped itself around your neck, adding no pressure just sitting there.
You couldn’t deny that he looked pretty like this. His curls a mess from your hands, his lips plumb and red from his hungry attacks on you, and his eyes doey and soft as you made his melt like putty in your hands. If every boy you fucked looked like this, you wouldn’t stop.
“You’re so pretty like this,” You muttered into his ears as you leaned forward making him whimper, “So pretty for me.”
You pulled away slightly looking down at him and he was staring back in a haze. His lips were puckered politely inviting you for a kiss and you obliged swallowing the soft moans that were continuously tumbling from his lips with each roll of his lips.
“I’m so close,” he managed to gasp out as he squeezed your waist holding you impossibly close to his chest moving his hips in time with yours as you both felt the pressure build at the bottom of your stomachs, “please.”
“Wait,” You whispered, “wait for me.”
He nodded, his bottom lip jutting out as your hand fell from his shoulder finding your swollen, neglected clit as your leaned back fitting into the slot of the front seats. Alfie continued to drill himself into you as your fingers clumsily swirled your clit making your moans grow louder.
Watching your every movement, the way your hips lifted when his tip scrapped the right spot and the way you twitched with each swirl of your fingers. He reached out pushing your hand away from your cunt replacing it with his own, his thumb firm against the sensitive area.
“Fuck, Alfie.” Your hips bucked, squeezing against him tightly making him hiss, “I’m gonna come.”
You pounced forward leaning your forehead against his peppering kiss on his face as your bodies moved in unison, both of you chasing the same thing.
“It’s okay, baby,” You reassured, brushing his damp curls out of his face as you nodded, “Let go for me.”
You both rutted against each other in a desperate attempt to finish and Alfie seed spurted into you as he let out a groan that echoed through the car and he went limp under you. You stilled your movements, placing a soft kiss on his cheek bone and you went to remove yourself from his lap but his hands latched to your thighs before you could.
“You didn’t finish.”
He looked up at you with in a fucked-out daze and you smiled, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”
“No,” He muttered, “keep going.”
Your eyes widened as you stuttered over your words, “Are you sure?”
“Please.”
“Okay.”
You started to move your hips against him again, his limp cock hardening inside you again as his sounds of discomfort turned into whines of pleasure, his hands guiding you along his as his thumb circled your clit expertly, “that feels, fuck.”
His mouth dropped open and his noises spurred you on even more as the knot in your stomach started to build again with each thrust into you, “doing so good, fuck.”
Your words turned into babbles as your orgasm washed over you, your body went limp against Alfie’s, and he lifted you carefully sliding himself out of you making you whine at the loss.
“I’m gonna take you back to mine, okay?” He asked, brushing your hair over your shoulder pressing a soft kiss there and you nodded.
“I’d like that yeah.”
He gave you a lopsided smile before reaching into the boot grabbing his discarded clothes and a hoodie, he always kept there handing it to you with a chaste kiss on your lips that had you smiling like a fool.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⤷ notes: i have no idea what the fuck this is. i just kept writing and this is what came out. do not get any hopes for any smut - this is the furthest ill go!
"I'm sorry, again."
"Please stop apologising." You're both sitting on the couch, Arthur's head on your shoulder as you scratch his scalp lightly. He softens at your words and relaxes next to you. Tissue papers litter your coffee table, tear stains evident on the collar of your t-shirt.
The fight wasn't nasty or rude - just uncomfortable and exhausting. It was something that could've been easily avoided, but everything aligned in a bad way - wrong place, wrong time - which caused you two to lash out. Now, all you wanted to do was leave it behind you. Arthur wished the same.
You could tell he kept to himself. Typically, his hands would be all over you, wherever they would reach. They would be resting on your hip, drawing circles with his thumb; in your hair, stroking your hair; on your thighs, gripping them softly. It was like he was scared of crossing some boundary he had set himself, to give you space in this quiet, uncomfortable moment. The fight left a bad taste in your mouth, but you still missed his touch. You were used to his touch, and not feeling it at this moment made you feel cold, sending a small shiver down your back.
You slither down on the couch, trying to get into more of a cuddling position under him. His hands are still shy, resting on his stomach. Your fingers are still in his hair, feeling his curls against your skin. It almost frustrates you. Maybe it’s just the remnants of the fight left in you, feeling the lack of communication again. But you shake those thoughts out of your head. He’s always been like this after you’ve both been upset - reserved, quiet, mindful of his space. Nevertheless, you miss him, even if he’s practically laying on top of you.
That feeling starts to rise. Quietly bubbling, feeling it in your fingertips. You want him. You want him to be close. You want him right here. His warmth, his touch, his lips, his breath. You find it weighing your breath down in your chest. You pull just a little too much at his hair, making him look up with his still brown tear-filled eyes.
“What’s up?” His voice is shaky, clearing his throat right after.
You shake your head, “M’sorry. Just thinking.” You rub your face with your free hand, as if trying to soothe your skin from burning up. He turns himself to his side, supporting himself with one hand, keeping his eyes on you.
“Wanna talk about it?” Arthur’s voice is clearer, more confident now.
You feel it in your legs. Suddenly, the sweatpants make you sweat, wanting to take them off right now. You resist the feeling right now. Arthur’s pleading look doesn’t help. Lip in-between your teeth, you debate telling him. There’s nothing wrong with being open and honest right now.
“Touch me.” His eyes widen slightly, definitely not expecting you to utter those orders. You look up at the ceiling briefly before at him again, “I mean, just hug me. Cuddle me. Like you always do.”
“Oh.” His shoulders slump down a bit from relief, you’re assuming, just as he lifts himself upward to rest on your chest, hands on your waist. Relaxation runs through your body, his touch helping you calm down but making the heat rise even more. Your fingers find themselves in their regular habitat, his curly hair.
After some time, you feel like you’re going to explode. The unnecessary heat from the sweatpants frustrates you immensely and you need them off now. Without explanation, you lift your hips, trying to pull them off with one hand. Arthur yelps quietly at your movements. staring at your hands in confusion but then helping with one of his hands as well. Your hips land back on the couch, the cool air making you sigh out a deep breath. It takes your brain a small time to realise Arthur’s hand is on your thigh. He’s gripping them lightly, rubbing circles with his thumb before moving his hand in a different direction to do the same thing all over again. You feel the heat pool in your lower stomach, his big hand cold against your warm thigh.
You look down, and his eyes are on his hand, which is on your thigh. He’s mesmerised, watching your skin react to his touch, feeling you flex under his small grip. Your breath staggers when his grip tightens on your hip and on your thigh. You can tell he’s feeling the heat rise as well.
Kissing the top of his head, you bring your free hand to his cheek. He reacts and looks up at you, lips barely open and his breath heavy. You both can’t help but lean into each other and kiss.
It’s slow at first, as if it’s the first time you’re kissing him. As if he’s scared to make a wrong impression on you, as if you might not reciprocate the same feelings. You follow his lead. But when his hands tails up your body, finding it on the small of your back, feeling him slip your shirt up so he could touch your bare skin, you can’t help but deepen the kiss.
It gets quicker, sloppier. He’s got one arm over you to hold himself up, the other still on your back, now higher up. Your hands slide up under his shirt as well, feeling his toned abs, lightly scratching your fingernails on them. He breathes heavily into your mouth, holding back from moaning. You lift your legs from under him to cross them just on his back, pushing yourself up to sit on his lap, straddling him. He gets comfortable under you, resting his hands on your almost-bare ass, gripping them hard. Your hands hold his neck so you can kiss him fervently again.
It’s passionate, fiery, full of love. Everything you both feel. Something that is reminiscent of your earlier fight. Every frustration is taken out on each other right now. Your lips are swollen, but you can’t stop. It sits low in your stomach - the want, the need to have him right here. Right under you, feeling him harder under you as you moan from his hard touch. Leaning your head back, his lips attack your neck, making you gasp and moan even louder. You’re pushing on his chest, holding his crumpled shirt bunched up in your fists. The strength you have to hold yourself back from physically ripping it off him is strong. He thinks of it first, pulling back to lift your hands up, pulling your shirt off you in a haste before re-attaching his mouth right on your chest. He’s not letting you go, and all you can do is grip his shirt again.
The cold air around you has turned warm. The clock in the background has quieted down to nothing as your desperate moans and his loud kisses fill the room. You can hear him murmur curses against you, his hands sliding up and down your back. When he looks up at you, taking a breath, he looks absolutely fucking blissed out. His eyes are half-closed, lips wet from kissing you open-mouthedly and swollen from the long kissing. Without having to ask, he lifts his hands so you can feel him up. He’s gotten even harder under you, and the heat in-between your legs has only intensified. But you couldn’t stop kissing him. He couldn’t stop kissing you. You didn’t want to move. He didn’t want you to get up. Feeling you rub against his football shorts gets him panting, his hands holding your tits. You pull on his hair, which makes him groan even louder.
You can barely think. The only thing that crosses your mind is Arthur - his touch, his breath, his moans, his kisses. You’re completely fucked out of your mind because of him. Only he can elicit this feeling from you. And you fucking love it. You love him. You love Arthur. His touch burns you in a good way. And you wish you could feel like this forever.
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Harry shocks his friends by casually coming out in the middle of a Big Wedge Video
(Yes… this actually happened:
BRYSON DECHAMBEAU VS BIG WEDGE GOLF! 1:09:20)
summary: you and harry had been in each others lives forever, constantly dipping in and out of contact, but after years you’re finally in the same place at the same time.
content: mature (mdni) childhood friends to lovers, previous fwb, unprotected sex, fingering
word count: 4.6k
alys notes: i recently re watched normal people and im so obsessed with the idea of being in and out of each others lives, but always finding your way back to eachother. it’s taken me days to write this cause i think i just forgot how to write, but anyway i hope you enjoy🫶🫶
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you and harry had known each other for what felt like forever. your families lived close by, their house just a few streets down from yours, and your parents were friends long before you even met. you’d grown up side by side — playing in the same parks, going to the same schools, sharing the same group of friends. you were always there for the big moments and the small ones, drifting in and out of each other’s lives like two planets caught in the same orbit.
even when things got busy, you’d always find your way back to each other. there was an unspoken understanding between you, a comfort that felt like home. but somewhere beneath the surface, you both knew the friendship was laced with something deeper, something you hadn’t quite named yet.
one night, years ago, everything changed.
it was one of those parties where the music was too loud and the drinks kept coming. you weren’t even supposed to go, but somehow you ended up there, laughing harder than you had in ages, the air thick with summer heat and reckless energy. the more you drank, the more your walls came down, until you found yourself standing beside harry, close enough to feel his breath against your skin.
words became unnecessary. one look, one touch, and suddenly you were both stumbling through the door to his room. clothes fell away like the years you’d spent pretending this was just friendship. naked and tangled up in his bed, everything felt sharper, more intense, like the world had narrowed to just the two of you in that moment. the feelings you’d buried for so long suddenly spilled over, raw and undeniable.
afterwards, there was no going back to the way things were. something had shifted between you, forever. the line between friendship and something more blurred.
it kept happening any time you were drunk, those nights when your head spun a little too fast and the world felt like it was tipping over. but soon, it wasn’t just the alcohol anymore. whenever loneliness crept in, quiet and heavy, it was harry you turned to. the lines blurred until the bed between you wasn’t just for friendship anymore; it became a refuge, a place where silence didn’t feel quite so sharp.
then harry moved to london for work, and the rhythm shifted. it wasn’t just late nights or lonely weekends. now, it was whenever he came home, like clockwork. you’d get a text before he even boarded the flight, simple and quiet: “can i see you?” and you always said yes. it felt like the only thing steady in the swirl of his busy life, a tether pulling you back to something familiar.
when covid hit and the world ground to a halt, harry moved back home for a while. suddenly, you weren’t just sneaking moments here and there, he was your bubble, your constant. you lost yourself in each other, day after day. tangled limbs beneath his sheets, the easy comfort of being close. you’d eat dinner with his family, laugh with them like you belonged there. you’d lie in his bed while he filmed videos, your presence a quiet background to his work.
but then, after a while, something shifted again. it wasn’t just the physical anymore. you both realised there was more to this tangled mess of feelings, that the simple act of being together carried weight you couldn’t ignore. when harry went back to london, you had the talk — the one where you decided it was best to end things, to close the door on what you had before it got any more complicated.
and so that was it. the silence between you filled with everything you didn’t say, and the space where he used to be still feels a little empty.
you’d seen him since, just once, in passing, maybe a year ago. you were with your boyfriend at the time, walking through guernsey’s quiet streets when you spotted him across the way. for a moment, everything froze — that familiar face, the rush of memories, and the sudden awareness of how much had changed.
you ended up having a small, awkward conversation. polite, surface-level stuff. how you’d both been, how lovely the weather was that day. nothing heavy, no lingering glances or unspoken words. just the bare minimum to acknowledge each other’s presence without stirring up anything deeper.
it was a quiet reminder that you couldn’t talk to each other anymore, not like you used to, not like before any of it had happened. the distance between you stretched wider than ever, making you realise that through it all you lost your friend.
but now? now you live in london. you’ve got a new flat, a new job, and you’re single for the first time in a while. you’d been so focused on settling in — learning the commute, figuring out the best coffee near your office — that you hadn’t really thought about harry in a while.
you definitely weren’t expecting to see him on your first night out here. it was meant to be a small celebration, a few drinks with your new work friends to mark your first full week on the job. the kind of night where you’re still half on your best behaviour, trying to make a good impression.
you were laughing at something one of your colleagues had said as you weaved your way through the crowd toward the bar. the music was loud, the air warm with bodies pressed together, the scent of spilled gin and lime clinging to the air. you were halfway to ordering when you looked up —
— and there he was. harry. leaning against the counter like he had all the time in the world, that familiar tilt to his head, eyes catching on yours like no time had passed at all.
‘holy shit,’ he said, stepping back slightly, like the sight of you had knocked the air from his chest.
‘hi,’ you said softly, almost instinctively, the word slipping out before you could think.
you stared at each other for a moment, the noise of the bar blurring into nothing. it’s not like you didn’t expect to see him eventually — you lived in the same city now, after all — and maybe, in some quiet corner of your mind, you’d thought you’d reach out at some point. but you thought you had more time.
‘wha… what are you doing here?’ he asked, his voice softer than you remembered, like he was afraid speaking too loudly might break whatever strange spell hung between you.
‘i got a new job here,’ you said. ‘i live here now.’
his face shifted, shock maybe, something unreadable just beneath it, maybe even a flicker of something you weren’t ready to name. you were about to say more, maybe ask him how he’d been, maybe fall back into that easy rhythm you used to have, but then your co-worker appeared, slipping a drink into your hand and tugging you back toward your group with a laugh.
you gave harry a small wave, and he returned it, though neither of you smiled. you let yourself be pulled away, glancing back once before the crowd swallowed him from view.
you didn’t see him again that night.
a few weeks had passed. the chaos of moving had smoothed into a kind of quiet routine — you knew the exact moment in your commute when the train lost signal, the barista at your regular coffee shop remembered your order without asking, and your new job no longer felt like you were just visiting someone else’s life.
but harry was still there, lodged in the back of your mind like a song you couldn’t quite shake. you’d catch yourself thinking about that night at the bar, the way he’d looked at you, like he was trying to piece together who you’d become.
you almost felt guilty about not reaching out before the move. you could have sent a message, just a simple “hey, i’m moving to london”, maybe asked to grab a drink. but you didn’t. maybe you were afraid of what it would mean, or maybe you thought it would be easier to slip quietly into your new life without stirring up the past.
and then, one evening, as you were curled up on the sofa scrolling through your phone, it buzzed.
harry
hey
you stared at your phone for a moment, your thumb hovering just above the screen. it felt heavier than it should. it was just a word, but it carried years of history, of everything unsaid. you weren’t sure if you were scared of him, or of what this could reopen.
you sat there for another second, the silence in your flat stretching long and taut, before finally typing out a reply and pressing send.
you
hi
harry
it was good seeing you, i’ve missed you.
you
i’ve missed you too
sorry i didn’t tell you i was moving here
harry
don’t worry, you don’t owe me anything
you smiled at that, soft and warm, the kind of smile you didn’t even realise had formed until you felt it tugging at your lips. it was small, private, meant only for you and the glow of your phone screen. and then he started typing again.
harry
can i see you? like properly see you?
you
sure, when?
harry
tomorrow? i can come to yours? if that’s okay
you stopped for a minute, almost stunned, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. there was a flicker of fear, of seeing him again, of what it might bring up, of how easily the past could slip back into the present.
but then you shook it off, almost scolding yourself. he’s harry. your harry. the boy who’d always been there, who knew you better than most. no matter what had happened, no matter how much had changed, a part of you still trusted that.
you
sounds perfect :)
you had a few minutes before harry was due to arrive, and those minutes felt impossibly long. you moved around your flat in small, distracted circles, straightening cushions that didn’t need straightening, wiping down the already-clean counter, reapplying your lipstick only to blot it away again. anything to keep your hands busy while your mind hummed with anticipation.
when the doorbell finally rang, it was like your heart skipped a beat. you took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing your hair, telling yourself to breathe.
then you opened the door.
harry was standing there, his eyes wide like he’d been holding his breath since you last saw him. his hair was messy, a little windswept, and in his hand was a small bunch of flowers, slightly crumpled from the journey, but still beautiful.
‘hey,’ he said, his voice soft but sure. ‘these are for you, happy housewarming… or flat warming,’ he added with a small, awkward laugh. he smiled, that same familiar curve of his lips that made something in your chest tighten.
you took the flowers from him, bringing them to your nose, breathing in the faint, sweet scent. ‘thank you, they’re gorgeous,’ you said, meaning it.
‘sorry they’re a little messed, i biked here,’ he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
you let out a small laugh, the sound easing some of the tension between you. ‘they’re perfect,’ you said, and you meant that, too.
you stepped toward the kitchen, gesturing for him to follow. his footsteps trailed behind you, close but careful, like he wasn’t sure how much space to take up here. you opened a cabinet, pulling out a vase, filling it with water before setting the flowers inside, watching them spread out naturally, like they belonged.
‘how’s it been? y’know, living in london,’ he asked softly, leaning against the counter like he’d been here a hundred times before.
‘i get why you love it so much,’ you said, glancing at him with a small smile.
‘yeah, it’s pretty great,’ he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting.
there was a pause then, not awkward, but the kind of silence that settles in when two people are just… comfortable.
‘so… my mum told me you split up with your boyfriend,’ he said, almost too casually.
you let out a small laugh. ‘yeah, i did.’
‘’cause you were moving?’ he asked.
‘no, something else,’ you said simply.
‘oh,’ he murmured, eyes flicking down for a moment.
‘how about you?’ you asked. ‘are you seeing anyone?’
he laughed softly, shaking his head. ‘no.’
you hummed, the sound quiet, almost lost in the room.
‘i know i’ve said it already, but i’ve really missed you,’ he said then, his voice dipping lower, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear.
‘harry…’ you began, unsure where he was going with this.
‘seriously,’ he continued, his gaze fixed on you. ‘every time i go home i feel like i’m just… waiting to see you. i hate how things ended.’
‘but they didn’t end badly,’ you reminded him gently.
‘i know,’ he said quickly. ‘i just… i hate that it ended. hate that we lost touch.’
you met his eyes, something in your chest pulling tight. ‘i know,’ you said quietly. ‘me too.’
he pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. his arms wrapped around you in that way only he did, secure but gentle, like he was holding something precious. you sank into it without thinking, into him, into the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something that was just… him. it was disarming, how quickly it felt like home.
when he pulled back slightly, his hands lingered at your sides, his eyes searching yours. there was a pause, a heartbeat where neither of you moved, and then he kissed you. soft, certain, achingly familiar.
the second your lips met, it was like your lungs remembered how to work. you breathed him in, felt the rush of relief you didn’t know you’d been holding back, like something that had been missing had finally, quietly, fallen back into place.
your fingers slid into the back of his hair, gripping gently as if trying to pull him impossibly closer. his hands found your waist, warm and steady, holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.
you were pressed against your kitchen counter, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat building between you. you were completely tangled in him, every part of you reached for his touch, every breath syncing with his. the world outside faded until all that remained was the quiet rhythm of your heartbeats, and the soft press of his lips against yours.
his lips trailed down to your neck, soft and deliberate, kissing and sucking lightly. his hands stayed firm on your waist, keeping you pressed against him, grounding you in the moment.
your own hands threaded into his hair and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, leaning into every brush of his lips and every press of his body against yours. small, involuntary hums escaped your throat with each touch, each kiss along your neck and collarbone sending shivers through you. the world outside your flat didn’t exist anymore; it was just him, just you, and the quiet intensity of being this close again.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft, almost hesitant.
‘sorry, i… i didn’t come here for this,’ he said, voice low and unsure.
‘harry…’ you murmured, letting the softness in his eyes reach you.
‘i’ll leave, if you want me to,’ he added, like he was trying to give you the choice, but his hands still lingered at your waist.
without a word, you grabbed his hand, pulling him back into you. your lips met his again, urgent and familiar.
‘stay,’ you whispered, barely audible.
he responded immediately, kissing you again — stronger this time, deeper, as if trying to erase the weeks and months of absence in a single motion.
you let yourself be guided away from the counter, your hands in his hair, his hands at your back, moving toward the bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. the air between you was thick with longing, with everything you’d both been holding back, until nothing else existed except the pull of each other.
the bedroom door swung open, and you both tumbled backward onto the bed, the soft mattress absorbing your weight. harry hovered above you, his chest close to yours, eyes locked on yours with that same intensity that always left your breath caught.
his hands moved instinctively—one sliding down to rest firmly on your ass, the other gripping your waist with a mix of tenderness and urgency. you could feel the heat radiating from him, every movement deliberate, as if he didn’t want to miss a single moment. your fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, matching the rhythm of his touch, the world outside the bedroom fading entirely.
his hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing lightly through the thin fabric of your leggings. a shiver ran through you, and your hips arched instinctively, pressing closer, desperate to feel him more.
he paused for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, searching, asking without words. then he moved, hands sliding to your waistband, pulling your leggings and thong down with careful, deliberate motions. the air against your skin was electric, and every brush of his fingers left you wanting, every small movement building the tension between you.
he stared for a long moment, drinking you in, his gaze slow and deliberate. then, his fingers traced along your thighs, brushing lightly, teasing over where you needed him most, careful, precise, almost worshipful.
you let out a soft hum, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing him lightly down your body. he leaned in, pressing warm, lingering kisses along your thighs and hips, soft and steady, his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
and then, slow and precise, he pushed two fingers inside you, carefully moving in a rhythm that sent shocks through your body. your hips moved to his touch, arching towards him. he curled them slightly, in that perfect spot he knew drove you crazy. you let out soft moans, your fingers still curled in his hair.
his lips left soft, subtle marks in your thigh, like a secret for just you and him. his mouth slowly found your clit, licking and sucking like a man starved, matching the perfect rhythm of his fingers.
every touch, every movement, felt so familiar, yet so new at the same time. he seemed at home between your thighs, like all these years apart he had just been waiting to be here again, completely wrecking you as he had done so many times before.
you could feel it, the inevitable pleasure, rising in your core. your thighs moved up, closing around his head as he dragged you closer and closer to the edge.
you’re legs were trembling, your moans louder, your breath shakier, your body edging closer and closer to release. harry could tell, he always knew, but he didn’t let up, his movements became more relentless, his focus deepening, his mouth sucking harder, his fingers moving faster, his eyes looking up at yours with such innocence, but he was anything but innocent.
you finally finished, spilling out over his fingers, your body shaking, your hips bucking into his touch, your lips spilling out his name over and over. he slowly pulled his fingers out, leaving a soft kiss inside your thighs before licking up every bit of you, his tongue sliding over his fingers to catch every last drop.
he pressed a soft kiss to your stomach, his hands moving to rest on your waist, drawing you closer. when his lips found yours again, it was slow and deliberate, lingering with a warmth that made your heart race. your fingers traced the line of his shoulders as you tugged at his shirt, peeling it off with ease.
the closeness between you was electric. every brush of skin, every gentle shift of weight, made your pulse quicken. you could feel the warmth of him near you, the quiet strength in his presence, and it sent shivers down your spine.
he leaned in again, lips meeting yours with a patience that left you breathless, as if the world had melted away and nothing existed except the two of you. you wrapped your arms around him, pressing closer, letting the shared warmth and tension build. every glance, every touch, spoke more than words ever could — an unspoken connection that left you dizzy with longing and the quiet joy of being fully seen.
you could feel him through his shorts, hard and heavy, twitching with every touch of his hips to yours. your fingers moved to the strings, pulling at them just enough to slip your hand inside, your fingers brushing at his cock. he hitched slightly, gasping at the contact.
‘needy?’ he said, a grin forming across his face.
you nodded, your hands stroking him slowly. he pulled your hand away, pulling down his shorts and boxers, tossing them aside. his cock slapped against his stomach, already leaking. he wrapped his hand around it, stroking it once or twice before lining himself up.
your breath hitched as he pushed in, the stretch so familiar but so painful, the pressure overwhelming.
he started a pace, slow at first, like he was still drinking you in, embracing the moment you’d both become so unfamiliar with. his lips let out slow, gutteral moans with each thrust, soon increasing his pace, his hips slamming faster and harder.
your head rolled back, a loud moan escaping your lips as you adjusted to him as he filled every inch of you so perfectly. you were searching for anything to hold on to, your hands eventually settling on his shoulders, your nails scratching deep red marks in his skin, but he didn’t seem to care — it only encouraged him, only pushed him further.
‘i’ve missed how good you feel’ he murmured, his voice low. ‘missed how tight you feel around my cock’
he was driving you insane, the feeling of his cock hitting your every nerve, the way his eyes looked at you as if you were the most perfect thing in the world, the way his hands felt on your waist — so gentle, like you were made of porcelain, but his hips spoke another story, rough and hungry.
he moved with that steady rhythm, like he had all the time in the world, each thrust careful and steady, but you were trembling beneath him, your legs shaky again, your heart racing, that feeling coiling low in your belly like you were about to explode.
you tightened around his cock, pulling him closer to you, his head buried in your neck as his teeth nipped at your skin. ‘do it baby’ he said.
your eyes squeezed shut as your body arched beneath him, his name rolling off your tongue over and over as you spilled over his cock, tensing around him.
you pushed him over the edge, his thrusts becoming sloppier and less coordinated, his cock twitching inside of you. you pulled him into a deep kiss, almost encouraging him to let go.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath warm against your cheek, his voice low and unsteady. ‘you ready, baby?’ the words trembled with a mix of need and tenderness, as though he was offering you everything he had in that single question.
you nodded, your chest tightening with the weight of the moment. before he could drift any farther, you tugged him back down, your lips finding his with desperate certainty. your fingers slipped into his hair, curling tight, holding on as though letting go might make him vanish. he kissed you like he understood, like he was just as afraid of losing you, pouring all the things neither of you could quite say into every movement of his mouth against yours.
after a few more deep, trembling movements, his rhythm faltered, and he buried his face against yours. a rough sound broke from his throat, low and unrestrained, the kind of sound that carried both release and relief. his body shuddered as he clung to you, every breath heavy and uneven, as though the intensity of the moment had stolen the ground out from beneath him.
he kissed you through it, lips pressing hard against yours, desperate and unsteady, like he needed the closeness to anchor himself. the weight of him settled over you, warm and overwhelming, and in that closeness you felt not just his body but all of him — his need, his trust, his unguarded self, offered only to you.
his forehead dropped to yours, both of you sweaty and sticky and breathless. your chests rose and fell in uneven rhythm, his breath hot against your lips. you stayed like that for a moment, bodies still pressed together, skin slick where it met, his hand lingering at your waist as if reluctant to let go.
your pulse was still racing, echoing in your ears, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. only when the pounding in his chest began to slow did he shift, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your damp temple before he eased back.
he slipped out of you carefully, and you felt the loss immediately, a faint ache blooming in its place. with a quiet exhale he dropped onto the bed beside you, arm brushing yours, both of you staring up at the ceiling, wrapped in the silence that only came after being completely undone together.
you stayed silent, the only sound in the room your uneven breaths. he pulled you into his chest, warm and solid, and you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your cheek. ‘god, when did you get so good at this?’ you said, your voice rough with laughter.
he gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest as if you’d wounded him. ‘when was i ever not good?’ he said, eyes wide in mock offense.
‘you’ve always been amazing,’ you admitted quickly, tracing lazy circles on his skin, ‘i mean, no one else has made me feel this way, but… you just seem to get better every time.’
his lips curved into a soft smile, the kind that made your chest ache. ‘and you just keep getting more perfect,’ he said, pressing a slow, tender kiss to the top of your head, lingering there like he never wanted to move.
‘how long do you plan to stay in london?’ he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost careful.
‘forever i guess,’ you murmured, the certainty surprising even you.
‘and you don’t think you’ll miss home?’ he said, his hand smoothing down your back absentmindedly.
‘why would i? i was never home in guernsey unless you were there. i feel more at home with you here than i ever did there without you,’ you said, and the truth of it settled heavy and warm between you.
he smiled then, a big cheesy grin that lit up his whole face. ‘i’ve lived here for years and never once did i feel at home until now.’
you tilted your head up, meeting his eyes before leaning in to press one last deep kiss to his lips, slow and certain. ‘i don’t ever want to miss you again,’ you whispered against his mouth.
‘you won’t,’ he said with a laugh, brushing his thumb across your cheek, ‘we’re both in the same place now, permanently. you won’t get a chance to miss me.’
you laughed with him, the sound spilling out easier than it had in months. ‘good,’ you said, and for the first time, it felt like the word was enough.
summary: based off this request
content: smut (mdni) unprotected sex, riding, pussy eating, plus sized reader x george clarke, body insecurities.
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i loved doing this request! shout out to us plus sized girlies, thank u anon!
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you’re at a house party at george, chris, and arthur’s flat. no big occasion this time, no birthday, no holiday, just a saturday night. the room is buzzing with laughter and chatter, the air thick with the scent of spilled beer and cheap wine. music is blasting from the speakers, something upbeat, pulsing through the walls and rattling the windows. maybe loud enough to piss off the neighbours, but you’re just tipsy enough not to care.
you’re wearing a long black dress, one that hugs your figure tightly, the fabric soft but unforgiving as it molds against your curves. the hem brushes just below your knees, swaying slightly every time you move. you can feel the slight heat of the room, the brush of skin as your thighs rub together with every step. you try to shrug off the uneasy weight of self-consciousness, but it’s hard not to notice the way the dress clings to your stomach, outlining every little curve and crease.
your friends sway and talk around you, voices rising above the music. you smile weakly, fingers curling around the fabric at your waist, trying to settle the jittery flutter in your chest. the room feels both warm and overwhelming, and even though you’re surrounded by people you know, you can’t shake the feeling that everyone’s watching, noticing every little thing you wish they wouldn’t.
the room suddenly felt overwhelmingly hot, the heat pressing against your skin like a heavy blanket. sweat prickled along your hairline and the small of your back. you placed your empty cup down carefully on the cluttered coffee table and slipped out of the living room, weaving through clusters of laughing friends until you reached george’s bedroom, the only door that was wide open.
inside, the cool air was a relief, even if the overhead light was harsh and unforgiving. you stood in front of the mirror, eyes tracing the curves of your figure reflected back at you. you loved your body, you really did. every curve, every line was a part of you you had learned to embrace over time. but still, in moments like this, the insecurities crept in, whispering doubts in the back of your mind.
you thought about everyone else at the party, how effortlessly put together they seemed. like they hadn’t spent hours trying on and discarding outfit after outfit, chasing the perfect fit. the way their clothes sat on them, like they were made for their bodies, no awkward bunching, no spills or gaps. you remembered the chaotic state of your bedroom floor, clothes tossed aside in a forgotten, crumpled pile by your bed, evidence of your own battle to find something that made you feel good enough.
your thoughts were interrupted by a light knock at the bedroom door. ‘hello?’ the voice said, soft but carrying through the quiet room. it was george. your heart skipped a beat. ‘come in,’ you shouted without turning, your voice a little shaky. the door creaked open and george stepped inside, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the stale bathroom air.
‘hey, was wondering where you’d gone to,’ he said, glancing around before settling his eyes on you in the mirror. you kept staring at your reflection, tracing the outline of your figure in the dim light.
‘sorry, i just… just needed to step away for a moment,’ you murmured, voice barely above a whisper
‘you feeling okay?’ george asked softly, stepping closer until you could see him behind you in the mirror’s glass. his presence was steady, grounding.
you swallowed hard. ‘yeah, just a little conscious,’ you admitted, your fingers curling nervously around the edge of the sink. you wouldn’t usually spill out all of your insecurities, but you were just drunk enough you speak your thoughts.
‘why’s that?’ he said, concern threading through his tone.
‘i just wish i wore something a little more comfortable, something that clung to me less,’ you said, your voice trembling slightly, the insecurities spilling out more freely than you expected.
george’s eyes flickered to your dress, then back to your face. ‘what you’re wearing is fine,’ he said gently, ‘you look great.’
you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. ‘don’t worry, george, you don’t have to lie to me,’ you said, trying to hide the vulnerability in your voice.
‘what makes you think i’m lying?’ he countered, his eyebrows knitting together in a mix of curiosity and sincerity.
‘i see the way you look me up and down,’ you said, biting your lip.
‘and you think i’m doing that to judge you?’ he said
‘well… yeah, maybe,’ you admitted, the honesty catching you off guard.
‘not the case at all,’ george said quietly, stepping just a little closer until the space between you felt charged. ‘im doing it to admire you.’
you finally turned around, no longer looking at your reflection, meeting his gaze directly. his eyes held something warm and honest, something that made your heart flutter in a way the party never could.
‘you mean that?’ you whispered, your eyes searching his, trying to find any hint of doubt. george’s gaze stayed steady, warm, unflinching.
‘of course i do,’ he said, his voice low and sincere. ‘you look sexy. you always do.’
a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but your eyes drifted away from him, settling on the floor instead. the quiet compliment wrapped around you like a gentle warmth, and you felt something inside soften.
‘thank you, george’ you said softly, almost shy.
he smiled back, a little teasing but full of honesty. ‘i mean it. tonight, you’re the hottest girl here by a mile.’
your cheeks burned, the blush creeping up your neck, and you lowered your gaze further, staring at your feet like you might disappear into the floor. you weren’t used to this kind of attention, especially not so direct, so personal. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, making it hard to think.
george stepped even closer, closing the small distance between you. his hand reached up slowly, hesitating just for a moment before moving to cup your chin gently. his thumb brushed lightly along your skin, tilting your head so your eyes met his again.
‘you’re perfect,’ he said quietly, his voice barely more than a breath.
for a long second, you just stared at him, caught between surprise and something like hope. you were painfully aware of how close he was, the heat radiating off him, the soft brush of his breath against your cheek. your mind raced, unsure of what to say or do next, caught in the stillness of the moment that felt like it could change everything.
‘can i kiss you?’ he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
your heart felt like it skipped a beat, a fluttering rush of warmth spreading through your stomach. you nodded without thinking, your breath catching in your throat.
george leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours, soft and tentative, like testing the waters. you felt the gentleness of the kiss before instinctively backing up just a little, your back meeting the cool wall behind you.
his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. the heat of his touch sent shivers down your spine. you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his curls, deepening the kiss.
the softness between you suddenly shifted, george’s kiss grew hungrier, more urgent. his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring carefully as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer, grounding you in the moment.
slowly, he pulled you away from the wall, hands never losing their hold, guiding you through his small hallway and to his bed. every step was charged, the world narrowing to just the two of you, the faint sound of music and laughter fading behind closed doors.
he lowered you down onto the bed carefully, his touch gentle but sure, like he was trying to hold onto you without breaking anything. his legs slid between yours, anchoring you in place, and you felt the steady heat of him close against your skin. his lips never left yours, the kiss deepening, hungry and urgent, a little messy in the best way.
his hands moved slowly, intentionally, tracing your body with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. one hand found the curve of your thigh, fingers curling around it firmly, the other staying steady at your waist, holding you close, keeping you grounded.
then, almost hesitantly, the hand on your thigh slid up, slipping under the edge of your dress. his fingers brushed lightly over the bare skin, sending a shiver racing through you. the softness of the fabric contrasted with the heat of his touch, making every nerve feel alive and electric beneath his fingertips.
your dress bunched up at your waist, the fabric gathering and leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way that made your breath catch. your hands moved to his shirt, fingers fumbling slightly before pulling it off his shoulders. he lifted the shirt over his head with ease, his bare skin warm against the cool air of the room. his hands immediately returned to your thighs, steady and possessive.
his lips trailed down from yours, soft and lingering, kissing your collarbone, then your neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving little marks that made your skin tingle. his hands roamed lower, fingers grazing over your ass with a tenderness that sent sparks of heat through you.
slowly, he lowered himself down the bed, his head finding a place between your thighs. you shivered under his touch, every nerve alive. his voice was low, full of awe and desire. ‘god, you’re so gorgeous, gotta show you how fucking perfect you are’ he said, almost like a promise, his fingers slowly hooking into the fabric of your thong, teasing just enough to make your heart race.
he gently pulled your thong down your legs, letting it slip off and fall softly to the floor. his fingers traced delicate patterns over your skin, making you breathe a little heavier, a quiet moan escaping your lips. your hips instinctively moved closer to his touch, seeking the warmth and connection.
his lips planted soft kisses along your thighs, each one leaving a tender, fleeting mark. then, with slow, careful movements, he pushed two fingers inside you, slowly moving in a rhythm that felt both comforting and electrifying. the sensation sent shivers through your body, and soft sounds of pleasure spilled from you, suddenly making you aware of the party still going on just meters away.
even in the noise and chaos beyond the door, this moment felt private, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, suspended in time and warmth.
his mouth moved with careful, tender movements, tracing soft kisses along your thighs before finding your clit. his tongue brushed in slow, deliberate stripes, matching the rhythm of his fingers. the sensations built inside you, warm and deep.
your fingers curled into his hair, gripping lightly as a way to steady yourself, to hold onto the moment. every touch, every movement felt like an unspoken promise, soft and attentive and full of adoration. the world outside the door faded completely, leaving only the quiet intimacy between you two.
his other hand slid up your leg, firm and steady, gripping your thigh before lifting it to rest beside his face. the movement closed him in between your thighs, making the space between you feel impossibly intimate.
you could feel every small shift of him, each slow, deliberate movement of his tongue, each curl of his fingers, pulling you incredibly closer to the edge. your hips moved instinctively in response, chasing the sensation, and a soft moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. the sound seemed to linger in the air, the only reminder that beyond this room, the party still went on without you.
you felt yourself teetering on the edge, every flick of his tongue and the curl of his fingers pulling you closer and closer to that fragile brink. your breath hitched, shallow and fast, like waves rising and crashing in your chest. your body trembled beneath his touch, skin hypersensitive, every nerve alive with sensation. your hips moved almost of their own accord, pressing deeper into him, seeking more, needing more.
with one final, deliberate curl of his fingers and a tender flick of his tongue, the floodgates broke. warmth exploded through your body in waves, your muscles tightening uncontrollably as your thighs instinctively closed around his head, holding him close in the aftermath. soft, breathless moans escaped you, mingling with the quiet sound of his steady breathing beneath you.
he pressed one final, lingering kiss to your thigh before slowly moving back up your body, his lips finding yours once more in a deep, hungry kiss. your breath mingled with his, soft and warm.
‘george…’ you murmured, voice barely audible.
‘yeah, doll?’he replied, eyes dark with desire.
‘i need you’ you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
he smirked, shifting slightly on the bed as he laid flat on his back, his fingers quickly working to undo his jeans. ‘c’mere’ he said, voice low and inviting.
without hesitation, you climbed onto him, straddling his hips, the heat between you pulsing stronger with every heartbeat. your hands found his chest as you settled over him, both of you caught in the electric pull of the moment, ready to lose yourselves completely in each other.
he slid his jeans and boxers down, freeing himself, his skin warm where he’d just been covered. you shifted slightly, taking a moment to steady yourself before lowering down onto him, a soft moan escaping as you adjusted to the new sensation, the stretch intense but electric.
george’s hands moved quickly to pull your dress up and over your head, tossing it gently aside. his eyes lingered on you, drinking in every curve with a mix of admiration and hunger. his fingers traced slow, gentle strokes up your sides, grounding you in the moment.
he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, desperate kiss. ‘god, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous, so fucking sexy’ he murmured against your mouth.
you kissed him back, your hands resting on his chest as you began to slowly roll your hips, matching the rhythm of your breath with his steady presence beneath you. the world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was the connection burning between you two.
you moved faster, your hips rolling harder as the rhythm between you and george deepened. the noise of the party outside the door faded into nothing, no longer a distraction, no longer a concern. you didn’t care if anyone could hear you over the music anymore. all that mattered was the heat between you two, the way his eyes locked onto yours, full of desire and something softer beneath it.
his hands gripped your waist firmly but gently, guiding you with a steady touch that made you feel both powerful and cherished. every movement, every glance, pulled you closer, not just physically, but in a way that felt like the whole room had melted away, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in this moment.
your knees trembled beneath you, the pressure building again until they buckled slightly. george caught you immediately, his hands moving to your hips, gripping tightly as he took over the rhythm — thrusting harder, deeper, relentless.
overwhelmed by the intensity, you leaned down, resting your forehead against his shoulder, your breath mingling with his. the waves crashed over you, your body shuddering as you came, spilling over him in a rush of heat and release.
george held you close, matching your rhythm with a few final, powerful thrusts before reaching his own peak. you both collapsed together, breathless and tangled, the world outside forgotten in the aftermath of everything you’d shared.
you stayed there for a moment, still resting on top of george, your body slick with sweat, breath ragged, completely wrecked from the intensity of what you’d just shared. the room felt warm and quiet, the weight of everything settling around you.
he pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your cheek, a quiet contrast to the fire between you just moments before. slowly, carefully, he moved you off him and helped you lay beside him. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, cradling you against his chest like you belonged there.
the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was soothing, grounding, and you felt safe, warm, and utterly content wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
‘thank you’ you said softly, your head resting against george’s chest, fingertips tracing the steady beat of his heart beneath your skin.
‘for what?’ he asked, voice low and warm.
‘for making me feel sexy,’ you replied, a half-laugh slipping out, a little shy but sincere.
he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. ‘you’re always sexy. you’re beautiful, don’t forget that.’
you stilled for a moment, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of george’s arms, feeling safe and seen in a way that made everything else fade away.
after a pause, you lifted your head slightly and asked, ‘you wanna go back to the party?’
he laughed softly, shaking his head. ‘fuck no, i don’t ever wanna move’
‘good,’ you said with a small smile, burrowing deeper into his chest, letting the warmth and quiet between you settle like a promise that this moment — right here, right now — was exactly where you were meant to be.
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