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CH.3 BARE FROM WE CAN TRY SERIES ✶ pairing: Uni/Roommate/Best Friend!Harry x Inexperienced Fem!reader ✶ summary: Harry wants to do more with you but your insecurities get in the way. Luckily, he helps you overcome them and makes you cum again (with his mouth). ✶ word count: 9.8K ✶ contains: fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering if you squint, kissing, shaving, lots of insecurities, pet names, praise ✶ a/n: Gave myself a deadline to finish this by the end of January, it turned into a little (long) Harry birthday gift! Though half a year gap between chapters is actually so embarrassing. This one has a slice of life and some smut as a cherry on the top! I want to get fully back to writing so we’ll see how it goes! Thanks to all who still remembers WCT and welcome to everyone who haven’t read the series yet! would be grateful for any feedback, ideas, anything! My dms are always open! ✶ click here for ➵ CH.1 KISS, CH.2 TIGER, HEADCANONS ✶ click here for ➵ MASTERPOST ⋆˚ ౨ৎ ⋆.˚ ALL MY LOVE AND TPWK, E

The morning was like any other — slow in that stereotypical, half-asleep way. You stood in the kitchen in your fuzzy socks and an oversized hoodie that nearly swallowed you whole, the plethora of fabrics pleasingly soft against your skin. The hum of your old fridge you had after your grandparents filled the silence as you waited for the toasts to pop, and your hands were cupped around your favorite mug with coffee inside just how you liked it - dark but not too sweet, bitter enough to wake you up.

From Harry’s bedroom came the faint yet rhythmic sound of his snoring, muffled only by the paper-thin walls of your shared apartment, but somehow still present, the heaviness of sleep still lingered in the air.

It was Monday. Another siren’s call from university, ready to trap you into another endless cycle of lectures, deadlines and exhaustion. You had a long day full of classes ahead and so did Harry, though he never really seemed to care. He never did. And yet, somehow, he always got through everything effortlessly, barely trying and with B’s at the end of the semester. Sometimes you joked about him visiting his teachers during their office hours for securing those grades with just a drop of sweat on his forehead for the work, and he always only smirked at your loud thinking.

He was smart, but a slacker through and through. University had been his mothers dream, not his. He was much more simple, romantic, rather enjoying his bohemian lifestyle than studying. Play in a band, write poems about his lovers, never grow up. School was pointless in this direction, he claimed that proudly.

A soft creak of the door and a muttered curse pulled you back from your thoughts, breaking the comfortable stillness. You glanced up at the source of sound just when the toasts popped and you were spreading strawberry jam across the crispy surface with learned precision.

In the open space stood a girl. She was barefoot, her body snuggled in one of Harry’s shirts you knew too well and the fabric barely covered her bottom, just grazed tops of her thighs lightly. Her cheeks flushed red immediately when she saw you in the kitchen, the realization slowly sinking in. Even though Harry had mentioned something about a roommate while they stumbled in the threshold of your apartment last night, tangled up and sucking on each other’s tongues, she hadn’t expected you to be the roommate. A girl.

“Hi,” Your tone was welcoming and warm, practiced on tons of girls from before, and the easiest thing to do was offering a genuine smile to this one too. This kind of morning was nothing new. By now, the sight of a half-naked girl didn’t faze you in the slightest. “Want a cup of coffee? Or tea?”

She looked like everything you only wished to be. She was beautiful in the way ‘Playboy magazines’ in Harry’s bedroom promised. Hot and sexy, with flawless skin and soft lips, the type of a woman that made men lose their minds in bed. And Harry was losing his mind very loudly last night.

“Oh, um… no, that’s okay. Maybe, uh, where’s the bathroom?” Her voice was small. She was looking around, on her right and left, unsure of which door led wherever, to the quickest escape from you.

You nodded toward the door on her right. “Just there.”

She disappeared almost immediately, silence leaving with her. You heard the flush of the toilet, the rush of running water, and then nothing, just the familiar hum of the fridge again.

You were halfway through your toast when Harry (finally) appeared, emerging from his bedroom in nothing but a pair of boxers, unbothered, his long hair a tangled mess. Without a word, his tattooed arm slipped around your waist from behind, finding home underneath your hoodie as he pulled you back in his chest.

“What are we eating?” He murmured into your neck, voice still rough with sleep. His fingers traced lazy patterns across your abdomen before he reached forward with his free arm, stealing the toast straight from your hand.

“I had a toast” You said with a roll of your eyes but no actual annoyance, turning slightly toward him to see his sleepy face better. His jaw was tightening lightly with every bite he took and the few days old stubble on his cheeks he was too lazy to shave accompanied it. “There’s a fresh coffee if you want”

Harry only grinned, crumbs from the toast catching at the corners of his mouth. “You’re the best” Harry mumbled with a full mouth and pressed a chaste kiss on your neck, out of habit, leaving there a smear of jam with his lips, yet didn’t make any attempt at letting go. He craved your warmth more than you realised. Mornings were quite cold lately.

You stood like that for a while, each of you chewing at your toasts and swaying slightly to the rhythm of Harry’s quiet humming. To a stranger, it might have looked domestic. To you, it was something impossible to name.

“Harry, do you—oh.”

The girl appeared again in the kitchen and her voice died in her throat as she took in the scene unravelling in front of her. You saw the moment realization hit her. The way her expression faltered. “I uh… I should probably go. I have a class at nine. Yeah….” She stuttered, too stunned to say more, and clutched the towel around her body tighter, suddenly feeling too exposed to the two pairs of eyes watching her.

And Harry didn’t even turn. Not even a flinch of a muscle. He just hummed in acknowledgement and tightened his hold on you, as if she could do anything to his sweet best friend. His eyes met hers for only a second and didn’t tell much, just like every other time to the same girls before her, not even when they were writhing under him and moaning his name. They remained empty, nothing but a mirror for them to watch themselves in.

“Okay,” He said finally, the words coming past his lips almost as a tired sigh. “I’ll see you around, then?”

Another girl from Harry’s bed was gone. Leaving your apartment with the same furrow between her brows and a frown tugging at her lips as all the ones before her. Closing the front door shut behind her, she locked you two in your little bubble again

The only thing that remained though was the scent of strawberry jam lingering in the air.

Soon, the two of you were out the door. Harry trailed a few steps behind you, nursing the post-sex aura graciously (and your pink bag over his shoulder), and flicked through a dozen unread messages on his phone, dismissing them all with a simple ‘Not tonight babe, text me another day okay? x’ like if nothing in the world mattered more than listening to you chatter his ears away about everything and nothing at all.

You had the first class together, even the universe itself didn’t seem to want to part your ways. Harry was in his seat restless as usual, and when the idea of focusing on the topic started getting too boring, he abandoned his laptop. Instead of taking notes, he began writing his thoughts onto small pieces of paper and threw them under your nose to get your attention, when his own couldn’t be where it should be.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to distract you, stoically setting the crumpled papers aside to read it later. But when another landed on your keyboard, followed quickly by third and then fourth, your curiosity won. Despite your best efforts to remain serious, the corners of your mouth twitched upwards as you read his scrabbles and shot him mock-stern look after each one before folding the “letters” neatly and tucking them between the pages of your textbook.

An hour before lunch break, the clock ticked with agonizing slowness, as if time mocked Harry. He sat in his Philosophy class and rather surely was losing his mind over the professor’s abstract theories. Though she had his bonus points for wearing that pretty blouse with polka dots, the fabric low-cut enough to show off her cleavage perfectly. At least something had his attention.

On the other side of the building, you were focused, typing down every word your professor of Art history uttered, until a spam of messages from Harry made your phone ring loudly through the room, making you jump on the spot and curse under your breath for forgetting to put your phone on a ‘silent mode’.

And even under the stern, over-the-glasses glare from your professor to ignore whatever disturbed his speech, you sneaked your phone under the desk anyway and laughed quietly to yourself, beaming at the messages your best friend sent you.

Harry was already waiting outside your classroom, leaning casually against the wall, counting down the seconds until your professor was kind enough to dismiss your class. When you finally emerged among the last of the students like you usually did, he was on you in an instant. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, showing his affection to the entire hallway. Something people and you were used to at this point.

“Oh was it that bad?” You laughed, your voice laced with a hint of amusement at his sudden clinginess. You found yourself in the same position you’d been in the morning and even when you tried to wiggle out of his grasp to get moving, he wouldn't budge. “C’mon Harry! I’m hungry!”

The night was colder than usual when you noticed Harry’s silhouette out on the balcony. He stood shirtless, only a pair of grey sweatpants hung low on his hips as a thin trail of smoke curled from the cigarette between his lips and his eyes scanned over the dark sky decorated with shining stars, distant and quiet, mirroring his thoughts.

You didn't remember falling asleep, but the absence of his warmth beside you had woke you up. With a pained groan, you pushed yourself slowly upright from whatever uncomfortable position you had collapsed into and stretched your arms above your head, letting out a quiet yawn. The TV still played in the background, but now on a lower volume, and the episode of the series you had on passed whatever moment you last remembered, though you didn’t bother to care. For a moment, you lingered in the soft cushions, disoriented and a little drowsy, before you finally stood.

Your steps were slow, hesitant, as if you didn’t want to intrude on whatever quiet moment Harry had carved out for himself, or maybe to save yourself a few extra seconds to admire his perfectly toned back from all the hours of working out.

“Hey,” You murmured, your voice small and still heavy on sleep as you slipped your arms around his waist from behind and pressed your face deeper into the warm skin between his shoulder blades.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart? Thought you were asleep.” His free hand reached back to find your side and grazed the skin of your thigh just below the hem of your skimpy shorts with his fingers tenderly.

“Warming you up.” You mumbled into his skin, the sound of your voice muffled but still clear enough for Harry to make out every word. “Don’t want you to get cold.”

“And you won’t get cold in this little tee and bare feet, y’want to tell me?” His accent broke through the stillness of the moment, a gentle tease obvious in his voice as he slid his hand up and tugged at your shirt playfully, making his point. His cigarette was soon flicked into the ashtray on a small wooden table before he finally turned around to face your pretty pout.

“Stop it.”

“I’m just teasing you, baby. You know that!” He cupped your cheeks gently in an attempt to soothe your distress and rubbed slow soothing circles over your freckles, mapping each one with a careful press of his thumbs.

“I meant the smoking. Quit it. Please. Why do you even do it?” You huffed, your brows furrowed and frown decorated your lips. Your frustration soft but sincere. You didn’t like Harry’s bad habit. You hated it. The years he’d had it, the countless attempts to make him stop that never stuck.

“It quiets my head.” He said softly. “Takes every thought out for a minute.”

His right hand moved from your cheek, tracing down the line of your jaw before settling in the mess of your hair. Slowly, he guided you back toward the door, each step deliberate so you wouldn’t trip over the threshold. “It’s different than what you get from… orgasm for example. More bitter. But you,” His fingers toyed with a strand of your hair. “You’re a sweet thing. So good to me. Always looking out for my lungs. ’M sorry for making you worry so much…”

You tightened your grip on his sides just a little, the need to be close to him supporting it only. Lately, every touch from him made you giddy. It felt charged, electric. Something behind the traces of his fingers and kisses everywhere on your face changed. Something you couldn’t quite figure out.

The moment the balcony door clicked shut behind you, the atmosphere shifted into a much warmer and intimate kind. Harry fell back onto the couch with a pleased, lazy grin, tugging you down with him in one smooth, practiced motion. Another routine, one of the few you never minded. Just newly found closeness and kissing.

You straddled his hips without waiting for a cue, your muscle memory guiding you. You felt like a pro at this mundane thing by now. Your knees sank comfortably in the cushions and your body settled over his just in the way that made you both let out a happy sight.

There was less embarrassment and more courage in your movements, though the clumsiness and inexperience were still very present. And Harry was more than okay with it. He loved it actually. The reckless grinds of your hips over his tattooed thigh and hungry lips that still didn’t maintain the art of kissing perfectly. The rushed releases and messy kisses he always met with a low laugh or a breathless hum at your desperation, maybe even horniness. His sweet innocent best friend wasn’t quite so innocent anymore.

“You had a good nap, sweetheart? You must’ve been so exhausted. You were out like a light.” His eyes searched yours when you were close to him again, so close your breath mingled with his own, as he remembered how sleepy you were when you finally got home after the day full of classes. Cradling your face again in his big palms and squishing your cheeks gently like something precious, he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss in the crown of your head. The height difference made it effortless for him.

“Mhm, was good. Always sleep good with you.” You murmured as you leaned into him, burying your face in the slope of his shoulder. His profile looked unfairly perfect from this angle. His cheeks covered in a few days old stubble, jaw sharper than a knife and his curls tickled your face lightly with every small movement.

Harry didn’t respond, just let out a quiet hum in acknowledgement before he turned his head toward you. Your noses brushed immediately given the closeness, and the moment he noticed the heat rising beneath your skin, whether from the cold air outside you’d found him in or from being too close, he leaned in.

The first kiss was gentle, a soft press of lips to lips. But minutes stretched, breaths mingled, and the gentleness frayed into something deeper and hungrier until you were kissing him in that familiar untamed rhythm you both knew too well, full of teeth clashing and heat blooming between you.

“So sweet,” He moaned and licked into your mouth eagerly as if to confirm his statement. You were dangerous to him. Better yet worse than a pack of cigarettes. You were killing him the same way. Maybe even more. Making him breathless and reaching after you always in need. And he was already far too deep in whatever this was between you to pretend he could ever walk away from it.

Your head spun at the taste of him on your tongue. Taste so unmistakably and utterly his you’d grown starved for. You’d never imagined kissing could feel like this, like something that seeped under your skin and settled there, permanent.

You giggled at his praises, the kind he never offered lightly, the kind meant only for you. Absentmindedly, you rocked your hips on his lap, receiving a low, unguarded groan that vibrated through you.

“Sweetheart,” Harry rasped, his voice wrapped rough around the warning, but nonetheless bad or scolding. Just an acknowledgement of the effect you had on him. His mouth left yours slowly, trailing over your cheek, along your jaw, settling in the curve where your neck met your shoulder to press a few lingering love bites deep in your skin. He nuzzled in you, breathed in the smell of your body wash and the softness your body lotion left behind.

“Sorry” Your voice lingered in the air, the word small and shy. Still, your arms looped around his neck, holding him as close as possible.

Harry held you gently in his arms. One hand cradled your head, the other settled at your lower back as he carefully shifted, guiding you down onto the couch, all without pulling away from your neck. His body slotted perfectly between your legs as his kisses trailed lower, over your covered chest and stomach, until your shirt rode up beneath his hands and his attention settled somewhere new. Somewhere unexplored.

“What are you doing?” You whimpered at the unexpected touch as his face disappeared against your stomach.

He was leaving soft kisses around your stomach, some quiet and feather-like, some playful with leaving a loud ‘mwah’ behind, and nibbling at the plush skin of your abdomen you’d spent years trying not to think about. He worshiped you like the goddess you were in his eyes and didn’t need a single word to prove it. “Loving on my girl. Such a nice and soft tummy.”

“Harry…” Your breath shook as your hands tangled in his messy hair, fingers gripping instinctively. Your insides felt funny. Everything unsteady and buzzing. Harry always did that to you. Made your body react before your mind could catch up. With any touch at any place. But still beneath the heat, something else stirred. Something tight and uncomfortable. You didn’t want the insecurities to get in the way, but it was getting harder with every kiss he uttered lower and lower and every dip of his fingers under the hem of your shorts.

“Harry…” You repeated yourself, your voice much quieter now you didn’t even think he could hear you. But he did. He stilled immediately when he heard the broken tone. “I don’t- I uh- I’m not sure about this. Don’t get me wrong, I would like uh that but…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay” Harry lifted himself up from your stomach and crawled back up to face you properly again. His left hand rested next to your head now, supporting his body, as his other cupped your cheek, grounding you. “What is it? Talk to me.”

You stared up at him, overwhelmed by the concern in his eyes and how easily he could read you. He always knew when your thoughts spiralled or when the words tangled before they ever reached your lips.

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustration palpable in your voice.

“You know, baby. I know you do.” Harry pushed gently, not wanting to be harsh, only to show you the way to go. His thumb brushed across your cheek in soothing circles, then tugged a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I need to know. Otherwise we can’t do anything. Yeah?”

“Did you… want to go down on me?” You asked him bluntly, swallowing the nerves with one question with a sudden rush of courage. You didn’t want to have the wrong idea about this, but you were very confident now in the growing knowledge you had.

The question lingered between you, fragile and exposed. He didn’t answer right away, his eyes searched for yours, not because he was unsure, but because he wanted to be careful with you. With this.

“Yeah, I did.” He said finally. Quiet, honest. “But only if you want me to. You know I’d never do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your chest tightened at his confession. The care and love that present in his words. You had thought about this type of act before, more than you would like to admit, especially with him in the picture. Still, you’d never truly believed it could happen to you. The thought thrilled you and terrified you all at once.

“I would want that with you, oh god yeah, but-” You stuttered over your words, hands curling nervously into the fabric beneath you. “It’s embarrassing.”

Harry’s expression softened instantly, something unguarded flickering across his face. He shifted closer, lowering himself so your foreheads touched, noses brushing, the weight of his body comfortingly enveloping you.

“Hey, look at me. Let me see those beautiful eyes.” He murmured softly, as if he was afraid to break this moment. His fingers didn’t stop at caressing your face, the soft touches continued despite the quiet tension humming in the air. “There you go, sweets.”

“There is nothing, and I mean nothing, embarrassing about this. Okay? But if you don’t feel like trying that, that’s okay too. I won’t be mad. Could never be.”

Your eyes searched his for anything that could be telling you a different story, even though deep down you knew he would never lie to you. Not when it came to this intimate topic that became more open between the two of you lately. All you found was patience. Understanding. That familiar warmth in the green of his eyes that had always made you feel safe.

“I didn’t shave.” You admitted at last, the words tumbling out in a rush, and squeezed your eyes shut immediately after, bracing yourself, suddenly mortified at your confession. Saying this out loud to your best friend of years felt mortifying.

“What?” Harry breathed out in disbelief, the corners of his mouth quivering upward into a small subtle smile.

“Forget about it. It’s stupid. This never happened. Why would it? Just… forget about it.” You dismissed the idea quickly, your words dripping with low confidence, the frantic opposite of his, breathless from how fast you tried to get out of this situation. You shoved at his chest, desperate to escape the weight of his gaze and hide in the safety of your bedroom. But he didn’t budge. He remained anchored above you, as unmovable as a stone.

“No, no, no…” He tutted softly at your vain attempt to flee. He caught your hand and placed it down by your body, before sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, drawing your eyes on his effectively. “Should that be a problem? That you didn’t shave your pussy?”

The bluntness of the question made you scrunch your nose. Even the most normal words sounded vulgar when they left his lips, and hearing him talk about those parts of you made your heart stutter.

“Harry!” You huffed in protest, heat flooding your cheeks. You shielded your face behind your hands, peeking at him occasionally through the narrow gaps between your fingers. “Don’t talk like that! I’m being serious here! It’s… it’s gross!”

“Gross? Oh, baby...” Harry shook his hand fondly at your distress. He covered your hand with his, not forcing them away from your face, but simply rubbing your knuckles in soothing motions, hoping it’d calm you down. “It’s not gross. A little pubic hair never killed anyone. Especially me.”

You could hear the smugness in his voice. The quiet pride of a man who knew exactly what he liked. You dared to open your eyes and peeked at him once more, only to be met with that wide grin and dimples in his cheeks you loved to poke. In that moment, you absolutely hated him for being so effortless.

“I’d have to kick every other girl out of my bed if I cared about them being shaved and perfectly smooth. I don’t mind it. It’s their body. Your body. It's not my place to fuss about it. And also it’s completely normal. You’re clean, you’re beautiful… your pubic hair could never gross me out.”

“I haven't showered yet today,…” You mumbled, the confession barely a whisper against your palms.

“Good for me then, I love when pussy smells like pussy.” Harry leaned forward, his lips brushing the shell of your ear with a teasing note. He had you. Slowly but surely cracking and opening up. He didn’t want you to be scared or embarrassed to talk about this. To him, it was human. Normal. And he wanted that for you too. He wanted you to know the pleasure of touch.

“I would like to try, it’s just…” You finally let your hands drop, resting them on your stomach as you began to pick at the hem of your shirt. Why was this so difficult to say out loud? “It’s weird. You being between my legs when I’m all- I don’t really know how to shave, okay? Like down there. Every time I try, I- I just end up with razor bumps and it’s so itchy.”

“Is that all, baby? Is that what bothers you?” He asked softly, receiving only a shy nod in response.

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to be embarrassed.” He murmured, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours. “ I told you, I don’t mind the hair. It’s part of you. However you look down there, I still want you.”

He began to litter the side of your face with small, feather-like kisses, a deliberate distraction from the shame pooling in your chest. “And if you want to try this, but feel self-conscious about yourself, which again you don’t have to be, I can help with that. I want you to be comfortable, to feel nice. My sweet girl.”

Your heart gave a violent thud against your ribs, the rhythm ringing so loudly in your ears you were certain he could feel it through your skin. “Help me? How?”

“I mean I can do it for you,” He corrected gently. “I’ve been shaving my own face and groin since I was a teenager. I have a practice. Would prep your skin, shave you, use some oil to keep you nice and smooth so it doesn’t itch later. And then we can try something new. How does that sound, baby? Would you let me take care of you?”

The thought of having the most intimate parts exposed to Harry sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the act itself that scared you as much as what he would think of you. Harry was close to being an expert. He’d seen so many women, held so many bodies, most likely perfect in every way. You felt so starkly different from the girls he usually had in his bed. The insecurities were loud in your head, making you often question why he would bother being this patient with someone this inexperienced like you. But the look in his eyes, so steady and sincere made you choose not to ask. You didn’t want to ruin whatever special was between the two of you.

“You’d really do that? You want to do that?” The disbelief in your voice made your words shake.

“Of course. You know I would do anything for you.” Harry smiled widely at your question and leaned down again, pressing a lingering kiss in the corner of your mouth. “I want to make you feel good.”

Another kiss, soft and slow.

“I want you to feel pretty and confident in your own skin. With me.”

A third kiss, more firm this time.

“I want to see you. Feel you. Know every inch.” He lingered there, his breath hot against your lips. “And if helping you with this means you don’t have to worry your little head over it later when my mouth’s on you… then let me do it.”

“You’re crazy.” A small smile finally made it on your lips. You took a moment to just look at him, memorizing every freckle and the familiar contour of his jaw once again, as if you didn’t know it already by heart.

“For you only, sweetheart.” He pecked your lips one last time before pulling away and standing up from the couch. He held out a hand, his expression bright and encouraging. “C’mon then. Lemme show you how it’s done.”

You remembered vividly the day you saw your apartment for the first time. It was barely a home, just a shell furnished with a single couch that had springs peeking through the fabric and you threw it away two weeks after moving in, and the squeaky bed Harry still slept in and somehow it survived the years. Kitchen big enough for dancing, living room promising your movie nights and two bedrooms you could call yours.

And then there was the bathroom. You heartily laughed when you saw it. The apartment was small, almost bursting at the seams while trying to accommodate two lives, yet it featured a massive, grand corner bathtub. It felt utterly ridiculous. But before you could even object, Harry was already signing the lease, seeing the landlord off with an infectious, excited grin.

At that time, you were living separately. It was the start of your years at university. Everything wild and new, yet you still made time for each other. You hung out after classes in the afternoons and evenings, had more study sessions, grabbed a coffee together whenever you could.

The big change in your lives happened one late evening in the library. Instead of studying, you poured your heart out to him, explaining your current situation that had been tugging at your nerves. Your roommate at that time had her boyfriend moving into your shared space and you knew sleeping on the couch in their new lover's nest couldn’t do it. And Harry? He was tired of the relentless noise of the frat house and craved more intimate space. It was a perfect match.

Now, given the new situation Harry brought you in, you couldn’t be happier about that ridiculous corner bathtub. It didn’t feel like a joke anymore, but a wide, warm space for the two of you to sit and explore. To learn. To be intimate.

When you stepped into the bathroom, you watched him, momentarily dazed. Maybe from the nerves that were quietly bubbling in your stomach. Maybe from something deeper. He tugged down his sweatpants and kicked them messily next to the hamper, leaving him clad only in a pair of black boxers. “Don’t want the sweatpants getting wet. Is this okay with you?”

You nodded slowly, your breath catching. You were mesmerised by him. Even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his almost naked glory never failed to leave you in awe. The map of his tattoos and hard lines of his muscles. He was a man to die for.

“Now let’s get you out of these, yeah?” Harry murmured softly and stepped closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. He could sense the slight tremor of your nerves and made it his personal mission to ease every doubt.

He continued trailing feather-light kisses all over your face, the sensation making a breathless giggle escape your lips. Moving with agonizing slowness, his lips ghosting over your neck and chest, he sank to his knees in front of you, watching you with the most boyish grin and digging his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“My sweet girl… still doing alright?” Harry asked, his thumbs massaging the skin over your hipbones, putting the right amount of pressure, just to hold you close, before he pressed a lingering kiss to your stomach, waiting for you to give him a consenting nod.

Your skimpy shorts were tugged down your legs with ease, each foot guided out of the fabric and the garment tossed next to Harry’s discarded sweatpants. For a moment, everything stopped and Harry simply watched you, taking you all in. His eyes lingered on the plush curve of your thighs and soft texture of your skin. He traced the silver path of the stretch marks you usually tried to hide, the ones that made you feel exposed in the summer sun. And he loved it all.

Though your panties were still hidden beneath the hem of your oversized shirt, Harry’s calloused fingers found the lace easily. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he slowly stripped the last of your clothing away. Not looking, not pushing your shirt up to take a peek. He tossed your underwear aside and pressed one more reassuring kiss to your stomach before standing up to meet your lips.

“Thank you,” You breathed, reaching after him with shaky hands. Your head a mush of thoughts and feelings, and nothing has happened yet.

Harry moved around the bathroom with ease, prepping everything he needed by the bathtub as you quietly watched him, mentally taking notes. He brought your favourite candle from the living room to set the mood and set aside your bathrobe if you’d want it later. Just the smallest gestures made the knots in your stomach begin to loosen.

“You still sure about this?” He gently rubbed your arms when he stepped back towards you, perched on the edge of the tub and tugging on your shirt to keep yourself covered for a moment longer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. You’re- you’re being so nice about this…” You swallowed hard, standing tall in front of him as if to prove your resolve.

“Of course I am, baby. You deserve this.” Harry pecked your lips one last time and with a supportive squeeze on your shoulders, he stepped into the bathtub, settling onto the corner seat with his legs spread and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

You obediently climbed in after him, finding your footing on the ceramic before he guided you onto his lap, positioning you to his liking. With your back pressed against his bare chest and your legs draped over his knees, you were held open for him.

He felt a shiver run through your body when the cold air hit your bare core and pulled you closer, anchoring you in his strong arms. His lips ghosted over your neck again, peppering your skin with small kisses to calm you down. He couldn’t keep his mouth away from you.

“Is it okay if I take a peek now? Can I see you, love?” His voice was muffled against your skin, but the question was clear. You nodded quickly.

“Words, baby” Harry scolded you gently, his lips grazing your cheek.

“Yeah, it’s okay” You whispered in the quiet room, your eyes fluttering shut. You weren’t ready to face his reaction, or yourself.

Harry gathered the fabric of your shirt, bunching it just under your belly button with one hand, while the other started to slowly rub your thigh in a soothing manner. “So pretty. So so pretty. The prettiest.”

“Harry!” You huffed in protest, maybe an embarrassment. You tilted your head back against his shoulder and hid your face in the crook of his neck, your cheek turning red.

He trailed his fingers over your skin slowly before stopping at your mound and brushing your hair just briefly. With no judgment, no shame, only care. You were so precious to him. And so beautiful. Seeing this part of you didn’t just satisfy the curiosity that had been growing within him for a while, but made his heart skip a beat.

“Shhhh, baby. No need to fuss now. You are so beautiful,” Harry murmured against the shell of your ear. The vibration of his low voice sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the chill of the bathroom air. He pressed one more lingering kiss to the side of your neck for good measure, his stubble grazing your skin, before resting his chin on your shoulder. His gaze dropped, settling between your thighs with furrowed brows and focused look, yet some sort of adoration. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

With a shaky sigh, you mustered the courage and blinked your eyes open. The light in the bathroom felt bright and almost too harsh on your eyes, reflecting off the tiles, and making you feel painfully exposed. You took a second to adjust, your heart beating wildly against your ribs, before you reluctantly bowed your head to look down at yourself.

“I’m gross” You huffed and tilted your head back again.

“Baby!” He protested immediately, his voice taking on a more serious and scolding tone, demanding your attention. “You are not gross! You are the most beautiful sweet thing I’ve ever seen. Shaved or not. Understood? Don’t talk yourself down. You know I hate when you do that.”

“Okay,” You whispered, though your bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

Harry’s lips met your skin for the millionth time that night, his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. He stayed there for a moment, just breathing you in, offering the silent comfort he knew you needed. “We’re gonna start slow,” he promised, his breath hot against your throat. “I’ll trim the hair first, yeah? Nothing scary. Just me and you.”

He reached for the scissors he’d brought from the kitchen and with a final, reassuring kiss to your shoulder, he started working on his promise. The sharp snipping sound of the blades was the only sound that cut through the heavy silence, mixed with the ragged breathing of yours. You tried to get a hold of yourself, but the air felt thick with a mix of tension and vulnerability.

His fingers moved with precision, careful not to touch your core or your skin directly yet. Occasionally, the brush of the cold metal against your thigh made you shiver, but his steady presence kept you grounded.

“All done!” Harry announced in a soft murmur, knowing you had your eyes still squeezed shut and not watching a single thing. “Can you look at me? Sweetheart, can I see your eyes?”

He reached up, cupping your cheek with his large hand, and guided your face toward his. When you finally looked up at him, it felt like his eyes were staring through your soul. You felt like you could drown in the forest-green of his eyes and die a happy woman.

“Please, baby, don’t be scared with me,” He pleaded softly. “I want to make you feel good.”

He leaned in, pecking your lips before nuzzling his nose against yours. It was a tender, domestic gesture that shattered the last of your defences. You whimpered in the kiss, chasing his lips when he tried to pull away, seeking the safety of his mouth. You kissed him deeply, desperately, trying to silence every single thought in your head.

Every single whisper of ”You’re fat. You’re ugly. You’re disgusting. Your stretch marks look horrible. How can Harry even like you? You’re never gonna be like the girls he sleeps with.” lost all the importance in this moment. The thoughts were there, but turned more distant with the weight of Harry’s strong arms around your frame and the solid, muscular chest pressed against your back.

Harry moved on to the next step of the routine with a focused, quiet intensity. He ran a soft washcloth under the tap, waiting until the water was steaming, nearly scalding, before wringing it out carefully. He watched the steam curl off the fabric, then he pressed it gently against your skin.

You felt tears prickle in the corners of your eyes at the feeling. Your hips buckled instinctively into his touch at the contrasting temperature and you reached back, your fingers gripping his hand where it rested steady on your waist.

“Mhm Harry” You whimpered quietly and intertwined your fingers. As the warmth soaked into your skin, your body began to go pliant, your muscles finally unspooling.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so good for me, baby. Is this still alright? We can stop anytime.” Harry nosed at your warm cheek and pressed a lingering salt-sweet kiss there.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush, carrying a hint of nerves as you spoke. “Don’t stop,” You added quickly after. The mere thought of him pulling away now made your pulse thrum with a sudden, desperate need.

His hand kept working on your core with confident strokes, softening your skin. He touched you everywhere yet purposely avoided your most intimate center, though you found yourself secretly craving that contact.

Harry sprayed a generous amount of shaving cream in his palm and spread it over your mound. The sound broke the comfortable silence and the typical masculine smell of sandalwood and menthol that you always associated with him hit your nose. He added some more to where your thighs meet your groin and when he was satisfied with his soapy artwork, he reached for a razor.

“Are you taking notes?” He hummed in your ear in the teasing tone you knew all too well in an attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere.

“Uhuh” You bobbed your head, your hands shaking slightly as you reached down to wipe away some of the shaving cream that got on your inner thigh.

“Good. Means next time we can get straight to the good stuff,” Harry sealed his promise with a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder where your shirt had slipped down and rested his chin there as he looked over between your parted legs.

You tried to settle deeper into his lap, wiggling your legs as much as your current position you allowed it and shaking out your arms to shed the last of your nerves. Harry let out a soft, low chuckle at your movement before he went to work.

The cool steel of the razor brushed against you in the most delicate, precise strokes. He was methodical, rinsing the blade under the water after every two or three passes to get rid of the hair and cream, making sure the process was perfect. He whispered words of encouragement in your ear every so often, sweet and full of love, worshiping you till you were putty in his hands, a masterpiece of his own, and bare to his eyes completely.

“See? It wasn’t that bad” He grinned and set the razor aside on the edge of the tub. He looked down at his work with a sense of pride; there wasn't a single hair left.

“It’s just gonna itch anyway,” You huffed and blinked your eyes open to take a look yourself. Your old struggles tried to make an appearance again, rather a final stand. The job he had done couldn’t ever compare to all your poor attempts at shaving.

“Don’t underestimate me, baby” Harry tutted at your pessimistic deflection and gave your bare mound a playful slap, making you let out a tiny yelp in reaction and squeeze your thighs around his hand instinctively.

“We’re not done yet. One more thing…” He reached for a small bottle on the ledge, squeezing a few droplets of the post-shave balm in his palm.

As he began to rub the soothing cream into your skin, you let out a happy sigh and without any more coyness spread your legs wider, sinking further in his lap, giving him every ounce of access he could want. Harry massaged the balm in thoroughly, every curve and dip of your body until the skin was glowing and soft.

“Look at you, my sweet girl, all nice and smooth for me.” Harry’s voice had dropped an octave, turning deep and rough around each syllable, and wrapping around you like a vine. “Can I touch you now? Do I have your permission? Can I make you feel good with my mouth?”

“Please,” You whispered, your voice wavering at the rasp in his tone and suggestive questions.

“Alright, baby. Up you go,” Harry patted your inner thigh twice before unhooking your legs from his knees. He helped you stand up between his spread thighs, his large hands steadying you as you stepped out of the bathtub. The tiled floor didn’t feel so cold anymore given how much your body had heated up.

Harry followed the pattern closely and joined your side. He intertwined his fingers with yours in a grounding grip before leading the way out of the bathroom, and you followed him like a lost puppy.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind you in a whisper of a sound, sealing you and your best friend into the quiet intimacy of your room. The sheets in your bed were messy, you completely forgot to make your bed this morning, and there were clothes scattered all over the floor you had to put in the washing machine, but Harry didn’t seem to care one bit. He welcomed himself in like he always did.

“Still sure about this? You can change your mind, love, it’s okay” He pulled you closer by your hip until there wasn’t any space between your bodies, his other hand reaching up to tug a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“I want to try. I trust you.” You nuzzled in his palm like a cat seeking scratches, so innocent with bubbling need in your stomach and desperation dripping between your thighs.

Harry leaned down, ghosting a kiss over the corner of your mouth before claiming the center of your lips. He tilted your head just so, easing you into a slow, languid pace. His hands began a restless journey, brushing over your shoulders, tracing the dip of your back, and cupping the curve of your bum, before he hooked his arms under your thighs and hoisted you up.

“There we go, baby.” He set you down on the mattress carefully, his wide frame instantly caging you in. His knee slid between yours, forcing your legs apart to make room for him. “Let’s go slow, yeah? We’re gonna just kiss now…”

You nudged his nose with yours, seeking him out until he finally gave in, crashing his lips back onto yours. Soft pecks deepened into heavy make outs and your whimpers turned into quiet moans.

Slowly, his mouth moved downward, marking your jaw and the sensitive column of your neck. He sucked a mark on the untouched skin, then over the reddening spot to soothe the sting. It was a claim. A promise. You felt him grow hard in his boxers when his bulge brushed against your bare core, a bit of your arousal smearing over the black fabric, making you nearly choke on a gasp.

“So good for me, my sweet girl…” Harry murmured against your stomach, this time without the distribution of your insecurities chanting in your head. They were silenced now by the sheer intensity of his focus. He squeezed your hips softly in reassurance as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. You’d never seen this look on him before. Messy hair, swollen lips and unspoken promise in his eyes. “Can I make you feel good, baby? Can I taste you? Please?”

“Yeah, yeah” You let out a shuddered breath and tilted your head back into the pillows, closing your eyes.

Harry took the hem of your shirt and bunched the fabric just under your belly button, revealing your naked half to him like the most delicate present. Everything stopped for a moment. He stared at you with something more than lust and passion. He took you whole in. The plush tummy, the stretch marks on your thighs, your bare core. You looked divine.

“Fuck,” He murmured under his breath, suddenly lost at words he had a full dictionary of just a minute before.

“Fuck, baby” He repeated.

“Ugh I knew this is stupid, I look-” You huffed in frustration at Harry’s lack of reaction and tried to squeeze your thighs shut, the familiar shame rising like a tide. But Harry was faster. He held your legs open by your inner thighs, letting out a sharp scolding tut.

“No! Don’t hide yourself! Can you look at me, please, sweetheart?” He dipped his thumbs in the muscles of your thighs and massaged them gently, rubbing the tension that appeared again away, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. You’re perfect. There aren’t enough words to just… fuck, baby, if you could see yourself in my eyes!”

You shook your head, hot tears threatening to spill as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt too good to be real. An insane twist in your reality.

“You’re so pretty,” He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before resting your right leg on his shoulder.

“My perfect girl,” He nuzzled his nose in your skin, kissing his way up your thigh at deliberate pace.

“With the most perfect body,” He bit your inner thigh gently.

“Perfect soul,” He traced your stretch marks with his tongue.

“Perfect little pussy,” He sighed and rested his cheek against your other thigh for a heartbeat, watching you unconsciously clench around nothing. “Just for me. All for me…”

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay? Gonna kiss it better,” Harry said softly. He could see the lingering tension in the way you held your breath, and he was determined to erase every intrusive thought until your mind was nothing but a haze of ecstasy.

He kissed around your core at first, at the junction of your thighs, before moving upward to pepper the freshly shaved skin with tender pecks. Your legs were spread wide for him and he accommodated himself quickly as if it was a new place to call home. His right hand remained on your thigh stroking soothing circles, while his left reached up to find yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing firmly as if to say “I’ve got you.”

Harry reached down, his touch light as a feather as he pulled up the clitoral hood and exposed your little clit to the cool air before he replaced it with the warmth of his breath. Your hips buckled up from the mattress, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. Then, finally, he leaned in to make the first contact and pressed a lingering kiss to that bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around before he began to suck.

“Harry!” You cried out and squeezed his hand so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Shhhh,” Harry pulled away from your clit just long enough to look at you and used two fingers to spread you open, licking a long, torturingly slow strip with his tongue. He let out a low hum against your skin, tasting the honey-like sweetness of your arousal. “You’re doing perfect, baby. Taste so sweet…”

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, devouring your reaction, mapping every gasp, every hitch in your breath, how loud your moans got when he found the right spot. He worked on you thoroughly with the expert precision of someone who had done this a thousand times, yet with the type of care that was only for you.

If heaven existed on earth, you were surely in the center of it. A dizzying heat began to pool in your stomach, spreading until your limbs felt heavy and light all at once. Your fingers fisted in the messy sheets, your toes curling as the tension built.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart” Harry murmured against your core, his thumb rubbing grounding circles over your knuckles.

“Good—oh god, Harry, it feels so good!” You cried out when he quickened the speed of his tongue and dipped into your entrance, fucking your tight hole with his hot muscle in relentless pace. You were melting in his hands, a puddle of need and wetness dripping on his tongue.

Harry caught your clit between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a playful, light squeeze that made you arch your back completely off the mattress and buckle your hips in his face, before he started rubbing it in quick circular motions.

“Harry please!” You moaned embarrassingly loud in the quiet space of your bedroom and dug your fingers into Harry’s long hair without giving it a second thought. You held onto the roots and tugged at them every time he dived deeper in your core, receiving pleased grunts from him at the friction.

“That’s a good girl! Such a perfect, sweet girl! Lemme hear you! Lemme hear how good I make you feel!” The tone of his voice was smug and cocky, yet held the underlying care for you.

Harry brought his focus back on your clit, his tongue flicking against you with a wide, wicked grin when he saw your mouth fall open in pure bliss. He wrapped his lips around it and sucked vigorously until you were a writhing mess beneath him.

The sound of your loud moans and the taste of your arousal made Harry painfully hard. He ground his hips into the mattress, trying to find some relief for the ache in his boxers, but it did nothing to settle the fire in his blood. He felt his dick leaking, pre-cum soaking into the dark fabric of his underwear, his own climax triggered simply by the sight of you.

He pressed his index finger on your opening and dipped just the first inch in, testing the waters, gauging your reaction, teasing. You were so tight. An innocent thing that has never been touched in these places. Just the thought of how you would feel around his fingers, or worse around his shaft, made him moan loudly.

The unfamiliar heat in your lower belly suddenly exploded, a violent wave that crashed over your entire body. Drops of sweat were dripping down your forehead and sticking your hair on your face. You shook, your legs trembling and as the orgasm took hold of you.

You were beautiful. Breath taking. The most perfect innocent creature Harry ever had the chance to hold. The sight of you coming undone is his arms, thanks to him and him only, his skilful mouth and hands, did wonders to his ego and his heart alike.

Harry held you through the peak tightly, slurping on your wetness like you were his last dinner to prolong your orgasm as much as he could, all while coming into his boxers.

“Mhm, there you go. Coming for me like a good girl,” Harry encouraged in a breathy murmur. Only when you began to jerk your hips away from the overstimulation, he finally moved, crawling up the bed until he was hovering over you.

“Harry!” You gasped, tears from the release streaming down your face. You held onto his hand so tightly you thought you might actually bruise him.

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here,” Harry whispered. He cradled your cheek gently in his palm, his thumb wiping away your tears. “You were perfect. Came so hard for me, love. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?” You breathed out and finally blinked your eyes open to meet the greenery of his own. You were caught in a blissful, floaty headspace that you never wanted to leave.

“Yeah. You were so good for me, sweetheart” He pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear. He was looking at you with a new kind of intensity, something even deeper than what you were used to from him. But you couldn’t tell the real meaning behind his gaze. “My sweet, sweet girl.”

His boxers were wet, cum sticking uncomfortably to his skin, but he didn’t care a single bit. This moment was about you. He held you through the aftershocks, murmured words of praise against your temple and stroked your skin delicately. He didn’t want to ever leave this moment either.

“Can- can I have a kiss?” You whispered shyly when your breathing finally started to evening out and your body relaxed, turning into a mix of tired limbs.

“Of course you can have a kiss,” Harry laughed heartily at your innocent request and angled your face to his with a gentle grip on your chin, kissing you softly on your lips. The taste of your own cum immediately hit your tastebuds when Harry licked into your mouth, making you moan quietly.

“All good?” He hummed against your lips, pulling back just enough to see your face. He couldn’t get enough of this sight. A sight only he had the privilege to witness. Noticing your limbs unclenched and your body grew more pliant to his touch, he rested some of his weight on your body, his semi-hard dick nuzzling against your inner thigh.

“Mhm- what is- Harry, did you come too?” You whimpered in sudden realisation when you felt the wet fabric of his boxers against your skin and looked down between your bodies with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I did.” He admitted sheepishly. “Couldn’t help myself, baby. You do things to me.”

You watched the outline of his dick dumbly, noticing the slight twitch when Harry moved his hips against your thigh to get more comfortable. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you did this to him. A small, timid smile crossed your lips, and you sank back into the pillows, letting the weight of this moment settle over you.

“I’m so so so proud of you, baby” Harry repeated softly and slid his hand down to rub your hip in soothing motions. “Were so brave. My good girl.”

“Can we do this again soon?”

“Mhm we can try tomorrow again if you want. And maybe next time, I’ll get more than just one orgasm out of you…” Harry’s grin widened. He was already imagining a dozen different ways to worship you. “But let’s get you cleaned up first, yeah? Don’t want you staying all sticky and sweaty.”

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