First of all, a huge thank you to @cherriesncrystalballs for sending in this incredibly sweet prompt. The moment I read it, I knew I had to write it because the thought of Harry telling his family that the two of you are expecting was simply too precious not to explore. I have always imagined Harry as the kind of man who would dream about becoming a father long before it ever happened, and when that moment finally arrives, he would be so overwhelmed with love and gratitude that he would cry without even trying to hide it.
This story is pure softness. It is Harry being unable to keep a secret, Anne crying the second she realizes what you are about to say, Gemma becoming the most excited aunt in the world, and two people standing in the middle of it all, completely in awe of the little life they have created together. Thank you, as always, for reading and for continuing to share your beautiful ideas with me. I hope this one feels like a warm hug.
With love, A.
Tags: husband!Harry, pregnant!reader, pregnancy announcement, family fluff, emotional Harry, crying Harry, Anne Twist, Gemma Styles, established relationship, soft Harry
Word Count: ~5.8k words
—————
Harry found out on a rainy Tuesday morning, in the quiet hours before the world had fully woken.
The house was still wrapped in that gentle dawn silence that made every sound feel softer. Rain tapped against the bathroom window in a steady rhythm, and the pale grey light filtering through the curtains painted everything in muted shades of silver. You had slipped out of bed before sunrise with a suspicion you hardly dared to name, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest that you were certain Harry would hear it if he so much as shifted in his sleep.
When he wandered into the bathroom a few minutes later, barefoot and sleepy, curls mussed in every direction and his T-shirt hanging crookedly over one shoulder, he found you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with tears running silently down your cheeks and a pregnancy test clenched in your trembling hand. The sight of you crying erased the last traces of sleep from his face. For one awful second, panic flooded his expression as he crossed the room in two hurried strides and dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands coming immediately to rest on your thighs.
“Baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with concern. “What happened? Are you alright?”
You tried to answer, but your throat tightened too painfully around the words. Instead, you gave a small, shaky laugh and placed the test into his hand. Harry looked down at it, and the moment he saw the two unmistakable lines, the world seemed to stop.
He did not speak at first. His eyes darted between the test and your face as if he needed to confirm this was real, that he was not dreaming, that the life the two of you had talked about in whispers and sleepy conversations was suddenly and beautifully within reach. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were already filling with tears.
“We’re having a baby?”
You nodded, and Harry broke.
A sob escaped him before he could stop it. He cupped your face in both hands and kissed you with a trembling tenderness that made your own tears fall faster. He laughed into the kiss, cried against your lips, and then sank back onto his heels, his hands sliding down to rest over your stomach with a reverence so profound it stole the breath from your lungs.
“Hi, little one,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotion. “It’s me. I’m your dad.”
—————
The next weeks passed in a blissful haze of secret smiles and private wonder. Harry transformed almost overnight into the most devoted, attentive husband imaginable. He kissed your stomach every morning, even though there was no visible bump yet. He downloaded several pregnancy apps and delighted in informing you that your baby was the size of a blueberry, then a raspberry, then a lime. He read articles late into the night, highlighted sections of parenting books, and looked at you with such open awe that you often found yourself blushing beneath the intensity of his affection.
Keeping the secret from his family proved nearly impossible. Harry had never been particularly skilled at hiding his feelings, and now that his heart seemed too full to contain, every interaction with Anne and Gemma became an exercise in restraint. By the time your first scan confirmed that everything was progressing perfectly, he was practically vibrating with anticipation.
“We’re seeing Mum on Sunday,” he said one evening while pacing the bedroom as you folded laundry. “Do you realize how difficult it is going to be to act normal when I know there’s a baby growing inside you?”
You laughed and set one of his shirts aside. “I do seem to recall that I am the one actually growing the baby.”
Harry immediately crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt.
“Yes,” he murmured, looking up at you with shining eyes. “And both my favorite people in the world are right here.”
Sunday arrived bright and clear, and Harry was so nervous that he nearly left the house without his wallet. During the drive to Holmes Chapel, he held your hand tightly, glancing over at you every few minutes with a mixture of excitement and disbelief that made your heart swell.
“Do you think Mum will cry?” he asked.
You smiled. “Without question.”
“And Gemma?”
“She’ll cry too, but she’ll tease you for crying first.”
Harry nodded solemnly. “That sounds accurate.”
Anne greeted you both with her usual warmth, pulling you into a hug before embracing Harry. She lingered for a moment, then drew back and studied her son with narrowed eyes.
“Why do you look like you’re about to burst?”
Gemma appeared in the hallway behind her and laughed. “He does, doesn’t he? You look suspiciously emotional.”
Harry shot you a panicked glance. “Can we all sit first?”
Lunch unfolded with increasing difficulty for Harry, who was utterly incapable of behaving naturally. He smiled to himself for no apparent reason, reached for your hand under the table every few minutes, and nearly choked on his drink when Anne casually asked if there was any news. By the time dessert was served, Gemma set down her fork and folded her arms.
“Alright,” she said. “What is going on?”
Harry looked at you, and the vulnerability in his eyes nearly undid you. You squeezed his hand and gave him a small nod. He inhaled shakily, turned to his mother and sister, and tried to speak, though his voice cracked before he could get through the first sentence.
“Actually, we do have something to tell you.”
Anne and Gemma both sat up straighter, their attention fixed entirely on him. Harry swallowed hard and tightened his grip on your hand.
“Mum,” he said softly, his eyes already glistening, “you’re going to be a grandmother.”
He turned to Gemma, his smile trembling.
“And you’re going to be an auntie.”
For one suspended heartbeat, neither woman moved. Then Anne’s hand flew to her mouth, and a sob escaped her before she hurried around the table and threw her arms around both of you. Gemma was only a second behind, laughing and crying at once as she joined the embrace.
“Are you serious?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Harry nodded, his own tears now falling freely.
“We’re having a baby.”
Gemma hugged him fiercely. “Harry, you are going to be the most incredible dad.”
That single sentence shattered whatever composure he had left. Harry buried his face against your shoulder and sobbed openly, his entire body trembling with the force of his emotions. Anne cupped your face with both hands and kissed your cheek, tears shining in her eyes.
“This is the happiest news,” she whispered, her hands settling over yours where they rested on your stomach. “That little one is already so loved.”
The rest of the afternoon dissolved into questions, laughter, and more tears than any of you could count. Anne wanted to know how you were feeling, whether you had any cravings, and if you were getting enough rest. Gemma wanted every detail, from how Harry reacted to whether he had started buying baby clothes already. When Harry protested that he had shown remarkable restraint, both you and Gemma laughed so hard that Anne nearly dropped her teacup.
At one point Anne disappeared upstairs and returned carrying a cream-colored knitted baby blanket. Her hands trembled as she held it out to you.
“I made this years ago,” she said softly. “I always hoped that one day one of my children would need it.”
Harry accepted the blanket as though it were made of something infinitely precious. His fingers traced the delicate stitches, and when he looked up at his mother, tears slipped down his cheeks all over again.
“Mum,” he whispered.
Anne brushed his tears away with the same tenderness she had surely shown him when he was a child.
Later, as the afternoon faded into evening and the house settled into a quieter rhythm, you found Harry standing by the sitting room window. The last golden light of the day cast a soft glow around him, and his expression was so openly emotional that your heart ached.
You slipped your arms around his waist from behind. He covered your hands with his immediately and turned until his forehead rested against yours.
“I’m so happy,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this full.”
You touched his cheek and smiled.
He glanced down at your stomach, then back into your eyes.
“Our baby already has so many people who love them,” he whispered. “And they haven’t even arrived yet.”
“You’re going to be an incredible father,” you said softly.
Harry closed his eyes, and one more tear slipped free.
“I just want to be everything they need.”
You kissed him gently. “You already are.”
He let out a shaky breath and rested his hand over your stomach, his expression transforming into that familiar look of awe.
“Did you hear that, little one?” he murmured. “Your grandma cried, your auntie cried, and your dad cried so hard he nearly ruined dessert.”
You laughed, and Harry smiled before kneeling down and pressing a lingering kiss to your stomach.
“We love you so much already.”
From the doorway, Gemma’s voice rang out with affectionate amusement.
“If you two are being disgustingly adorable in here, I am absolutely taking a picture.”
Harry laughed and rose to his feet, slipping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.
Together, you returned to the sitting room, to the warmth of family, to the sound of laughter and the comfort of knowing that this tiny life was already surrounded by more love than words could ever express. And as Harry pressed a kiss to your temple and your hand settled over his where it rested protectively on your stomach, one truth settled deep within your heart.
Your baby was already home.
—————
like and reblog if you liked it and follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.
Grumprry and quiet shy y/n. He’s rude to everyone but her a classic trope
Cafes and Study Dates
Pairing: Grumpy!harry x reader
Warnings: None, just fluff! Also, not proofread!
Word count: Around 1k ig
A/N: Pictures from Pinterest, credits to owners!
Masterlist I Join my taglist!
𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ
The café was buzzing with chatter, but the warm lights and the vibes there made it a cozy place to sit. But not for Harry. He sat hunched over his laptop. His brows were furrowed and one hand was drumming impatiently against the table. Every laugh and every clink of mugs against saucers made his jaw tighten in annoyance.
Across from him, his girlfriend Y/N sat quietly with her notebook. She had a pen in her hand and her shoulders were slightly hunched as if she could fold herself into the corner. Her eyes darted toward a group of students at the next table who had just burst into laughter. She flinched at the noise, but before she could say anything, Harry's voice cut through the air.
"Do you mind?" he snapped, glaring at them over the rim of his glasses. "Some of us are trying to focus here!"
The students blinked at him startled, before muttering apologies and lowering their voices. Y/N's cheeks burned in embarrassment. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, "Harry, stop picking fights with people!"
He turned back to her, and just like that, his scowl melted. "They were bothering you,"he said simply, and she noticed how his voice had become softer now.
Her lips parted as if to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her. He was serious about it and it made her heart skip. She bent her head back over her notebook, biting back a smile.
A few minutes passed in relative peace until another group of people entered, dragging chairs noisily across the floor. Harry's eye twitched. He waited for a few minutes for them to settle down. And when they didn't, Harry lost it and then slammed his pen down.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, loud enough for the newcomers to hear. "Is it that hard to move furniture like normal human beings?"
The chair-scrapers froze mid-motion, sheepish. One of them mumbled a sorry, and they all settled down quickly.
Y/N reached across the table, her fingers brushing his wrist. "Harry…" Her voice was small, almost pleading as she apologised to the group. "You don’t have to yell at everyone."
He looked down at her hand on his, and the tension in his shoulders eased. "I’m not yelling," he said. "I’m just making sure you’re comfortable."
Her cheeks warmed. She dropped her gaze back to her notes, wishing she could hide the smile tugging at her lips. It was hard to explain to anyone else that Harry, with his sharp words and permanent frown, could be so impossibly gentle with her.
"I am comfortable", she said after a beat.
When a barista walked by and nearly knocked Y/N's bag with a tray, Harry's head snapped up instantly. "Watch it!" he barked, then turned back to Y/N voice soft as honey. "You okay, baby? Did he bump into you?"
She shook her head quickly, eyes wide. "No, no, I’m fine. Really."
Harry narrowed his eyes at the barista’s retreating back anyway before leaning forward, lowering his voice. "You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
Y/N nodded, her heart thudding. "I would."
Satisfied, Harry leaned back in his chair, still scowling at the room at large, like daring anyone else to disturb their corner. But when his gaze flicked back to her, his features softened instantly.
"You don’t have to fight the whole café for me, you know," said she.
Harry raised a brow. "Yeah, I do."
Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "You’re so grumpy."
"And you’re too soft," he shot back, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him.
She feigned an exaggerated gasp, "How rude!"
And after a beat, "but you like me that way."
Harry leaned across the table, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "More than like."
Her eyes softened, and he finally let himself smile just for her, his dimples making an appearance. The café bustled on, but in their corner, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the warmth of his gaze and the way her hand found his under the table.
𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ
Thank you for reading, lovelies! Feedback is appreciated! Please let me know if you want to be in the taglist, and if you have any requests, send em to meeee
Harry Styles x Bi-Fem!Reader x Strangers to Lovers
Summary: "and then his hand was finding your waist, pulling you gently into the pocket of space beside him, away from the crowd, tucking you both into the shadows like a secret, like being close wasn’t enough, like he already needed more of you."
Warning: Drug Use. Dance Floor Smut, Bi-Fem!Reader.
Story Here<-
Older!Harry x Younger!Reader x Age Gap
Summary: The one where you couldn't stop thinking about fucking your boyfriend. The thought of every detail, making you feral as fuck to get to him.
Warning: Age Gap. Choking, Consensual Power Imbalance. PURE SMUT.
Story Here <-
Summary: "The handcuffs were digging into his wrists, metal biting tight, rattling the headboard as he strained against them. You could tell he was eager to touch you, to bury his fingers in your thighs or your ass, anything that could give him more power, but you kept him pinned beneath you, squirming for a helpless venture he would never achieve. Because you liked the way he writhed under the weight of your body. You liked knowing you held all the power, the cuffs turning him into your plaything, your exquisite, beautiful victim."
Warning: Filthy Face Riding. SMUT!!!
Part One <-
Ex!Harry x Ex!Fem!Reader x Horny Exes
Summary: The one where you see your exes hugging and on screen, and you realize you might just miss one more than the other...
Warning: Short intro...all SMUT. Have at it!!
Story Here<-
LH!Harry x Fem!Reader x Past FWB to Strangers X Reuniting
Summary: "Because you had craved him, had yearned for his praises, had even begged the universe at one point for the hot, filthy string of them—for his large hands to be touching you just like this, for his mouth to be bruising your tits, leaving marks that would echo the same sentiment as the words “I was here.” To be so enveloped in him that you didn’t know where your body ended, and his began."
Warning: Angst/Fluff and SMUT!!!!
Story Here<-
Harry Styles x Fem!Reader x Strangers to Lovers
Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, they say, but does it really have to be the end if it turns into one of the deepest connections you've made in a while??
Warnings: Hard Angst, Smut, Fluff
Story Here<-
Mustacherry x Fem!Reader
All that's been on your mind is your boyfriend's mustache all day, and then he finally comes home...
Warnings: Warning: Pure explicit pussy eating galore with a quick little gush at the end. 💦🤭. (Read at your own risk.)
Story Here<-
PersonTrainer!Harry x PlusSized!Reader
Based on this request <- To the Anon that requested this. I hope it's everything you wanted and more. I really had to pull at some feels for this one. Thank you so much for this!!
Warning: Angsty self-hate with a happy ending, and a mild, sweet smut scene at the end that you can skip if that's not your cup of tea.(Heavy themes centered around hatred of body-image/body shaming. All self-induced)
Story Here<-
Boyfriend!Harry x Girlfriend!Reader x Long Distance
When your boyfriend wants to launch a new item for his brand Pleasing you become the tester for this very specific "prototype" before the world gets their hands on it.
Story Here<-
LH!Harry x PlusSized!Reader
Based on this request<-
Warnings: Angsty self-hate with a happy ending, and a mild, sweet smut scene at the end that you can skip if that's not your cup of tea.(Heavy themes centered around hatred of body-image/body shaming. All self-induced)
Story Here<-
LIDO Harry x Fem!Reader x Acquaintances to Lovers
TiO (Take It Off)
When Harry sees that you're cold and gives you his hoodie, it seals the deal for your after show plans when things finally heat up.
Warning: Freaky Smut, playing off the lyrics. (a quick moment of consensual head pushing.)
Story Here<-
Coffeeshop Owner!Harry x Fem!Reader
Based on the song 'Juno': Harry owns a coffee shop you frequent. What happens when you randomly run into him at a concert and he asks for your number?
Warning: Listening to the song is warning enough. 💋
Story Here<-
Frat!Harry x Fem!Reader
You're at frat party, drunk, but how do you convince Harry to stay when he's demanding you leave...Nothing better than a Fratboy!Harry attitude.
Warnings: Part One Pure Blow Job Galore, Part Two Pure Filthy Sex
Part One <- Part Two <-
Frat!Harry x Fem!Reader x Crush To Lover
What starts as sweet and innocent ends with you finally getting your hands on the guy you've been eyeing like candy for months.
Warnings: Fluff/Smut
Story Here<-
Boyfriend!Harry x Girlfriend!Reader
The classic mirror selfie with you and your boo, just as you're about to snap the pic, your bestie texts you, questioning Harry's abilities...in bed.
Warning: Just nothing but bathroom smut. Have at it!
Story Here<-
Frat!Harry x Fem!Reader x Crush To Lover x Forbidden Love
Based on this request<- Story centered around the lyrics from Addison Rae's song Diet Pepsi
Warning: If you've seen the music video or heard the song...you know the vibe. Just a cute little lead up to pure smutty filth. Fluff/Smut
Story Here<-
CampCounselor!Harry x CampCounselorFem!reader
Friends to Lover, Lovers to Enemies to Lovers...again. 😊
A lingering crush brings two old campers back as Camp Counselor in hopes that maybe, just maybe, they can finally cross a line that they've been dancing along for eight long years, but when Harry turns a cold shoulder, you're left wondering if you'll ever actually get the chance you've been dreaming of. A chance to call him yours.
Warning: Mild Angst, Mild Smut, Fluff, and Falling In Love!
Story Here<-
Harry x Fem!Reader x Hometown Love x Old Friends to Lovers
An unexpected reunion brings two old friends back together one fateful night while visiting their Hometown. Will they finally act on a love they once had for each other, or will the moment pass them by?
Warnings: Fluff, Angst Ever So Slightly, Sweet Mild Smut Scene.
Story Here<-
Boyfriend!Harry x GirlfriendFem!Reader x Domestic Life
When a trivial argument escalates into a relationship crisis, and something precious gets broken, reflection and honest vulnerability lead to a deeper understanding and a steamy reconnection. Their love emerges stronger through overcoming the conflict together.
Hard Warnings: Fighting, Filth, F***ing, and Fluff, this one gets a happy ending!😉
As a graduation present to yourself you head to the spa to finally get some relaxation. Lucky for you, your masseuse knows just how to work out that tension.
(this is my first attempt at a one shot so be gentle)
WC: 4.4k
content warnings: strangers, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), hand job, riding the tiger
After six grueling years of college, I had finally earned this spa day. Going straight into grad school after getting my Bachelor’s was a decision I knew would be challenging, but I hadn’t anticipated the physical toll it would take on me. The mental hardships I managed with various prescriptions and my nightly date with Lady Indica, but nothing seemed to ease the tension that had been locked in my shoulders for the past three years.
So there I soaked, neck deep in the outdoor mineral bath, as the 104-degree water soothed my aching joints. The spa was hidden away in the mountains, down a winding road flanked by lush greenery. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and swimming laps. Now I lounged, waiting for my upcoming aromatherapy massage. With the day pass costing upwards of $500, I was determined to make every cent count.
When my 15 minutes were up, I headed inside to the spa’s service area. The receptionist checked me in, handed me a towel, and guided me to the showers to rinse off before my treatment. The hallways were dimly lit and refreshingly cool, infused with the earthy aroma of stone walls, subtly mingled with hints of jasmine and eucalyptus oils. My shower resembled a rock waterfall. This whole place knew how to set a tone.
I quickly undressed, rinsed off, and wrapped myself in the plush towel. My hands lightly shook as I knotted my hair into a silk scrunchie and I felt a flutter of tension deep into my belly. I had never had a massage like this before. I had never spent this much on myself before. But I earned this. I had to keep reminding myself I worked hard for this.
Entering Room 3, I paused to take in the serene atmosphere. The soft, white massage table rested at the heart of a dimly lit room, bathed in a soothing blue glow. The stone-lined walls evoked the serene ambiance of a tranquil cave, inviting a deep sense of calm. I took my place on the table, face up as instructed, and let out a slow, steadying breath.
A soft knock broke the quiet, followed by the gentle creak of the door opening. I turned my head to greet my masseuse and was met with a pair of jade-green eyes illuminated by the room’s soft light.
"Hello," he said, his voice carrying a gentle British accent. "My name is Harry, and I’ll be your massage therapist today."
For a moment, I forgot myself, taking in the sight of him. His soft brown hair was tied back in a bun, mirroring my own. He wore a simple short-sleeved button-down and matching trousers, accented only by a blue name tag. Tattoos adorned his left arm in an intricate array, with just a few scattered on his right. As my gaze traveled back up to meet his eyes, I felt the need to steady my breath.
"H-hi. Hello," I stammered, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I had nothing but a pair of cotton panties beneath my towel.
"Are there any areas you’d like me to focus on today?" he asked as he moved around the room, setting out lotions and placing a few drops of oil into the diffuser. He was so at ease in his routine and I felt like my world had tilted on its axis.
His words caused an unexpected ache to thrum low in my belly. I clenched my thighs together, hoping to dispel the sensation as discreetly as possible. That particular area hadn't received any focus since the start of my grad program.
By another person that is.
And god three years was a long time to go with only the company of a pink vibrator.
And maybe a dildo…and a purple vibrator that had the thrusting motion…and occasionally a plug but only on special occasions…
But no men.
And certainly not men who looked like him. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and doing some laps in the pool. His hands seemed capable of molding me like play-doh, with veins running along them and up along his firm forearms… It was easy to imagine them working out…tension.
"My shoulders have been sore," I managed to choke out, wincing slightly at the crack in my voice. My shoulders weren’t any more sore than any other part of my body, but I felt like I had to say something.
"Alright," he said with a reassuring nod. "We’ll start there and see how you’re feeling. Just close your eyes and try to relax."
I did as instructed, taking a few calming breaths. The sound of him rolling a stool closer and the faint squeezing of lotion filled the room.
"Is it alright if I touch you now?" he asked gently.
I nodded softly, and his hands found their place on my shoulders, warm and reassuring. His palms pressed firmly into my traps, kneading with a steady rhythm that radiated a soothing warmth through my muscles. His thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles, each motion dissolving knots of tension that had accumulated from countless hours hunched over a computer screen. The relief was immediate, like all of the weight I had been carrying was slowly lifting away.
His fingers traveled with a knowing precision, working their way across the ridges of my shoulders and upper back. A satisfying pressure built with each movement—firm enough to coax the tension from my muscles but never harsh, as if he intuitively understood my threshold. As he moved his hands to my neck, his touch deepened. He slipped his fingers beneath my shoulder blades, a light stretch accompanying the glide upward.
His hands transitioned seamlessly into my hair, the silky strands parting as his fingertips brushed against my scalp. The sensation magnifying the ache between my legs. His touch grounded me in the moment while leaving my senses heightened.
Slowly his hands began to curl around to the sides of my neck, along my pulse point and up to my temples. My heart rate picked up with each pass, my legs flexing and releasing. As he worked his way up to my jaw, his thumbs gently massaging near my earlobes, an unrestrained moan escaped my lips.
Harry’s hands paused, and my breath caught.
I opened my eyes cautiously, only to find his locked with mine, his lips slightly parted.
"Sorry..." I whispered, mortified.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, and with a subtle nod, resumed his motions without a word.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to calm my racing thoughts and praying he couldn't feel the pounding of my pulse along my throat. But the crimson flush of embarrassment burned across my skin, and my mind refused to settle.
Did I make it weird? I made it weird. Why was he looking at me like that though? I'm sure I just imagined it. It's his job to do this, I doubt I'm the first person to ever make a noise, it's fine. But oh god why is he so quiet? I guess he was quiet before... Was it awkward before? Have I been making this whole thing weird? No, no, it's a spa, you're supposed to relax. It's fine. You're fine. Breathe.
After tending to my arms Harry asked me to turn onto my stomach. I awkwardly maneuvered myself, clinging to the towel as I tried not to tumble off the table. I don't think I could handle embarrassing myself again today. Once in position, I felt a gentle tap on my back.
"I’m going to need you to pull down the towel so I can see your back," he said softly. "I also have this pillow for under your hips."
I shimmied the towel down to my lower back and adjusted the pillow beneath me. To my surprise, it eased a pressure I hadn’t realized had been building in my lower spine.
I looked over my shoulder, daring to make eye contact again. "Is this okay?" I gently ask.
He held my gaze for a moment, his hand resting gently on my calf, before responding, "Perfect." I thought I could see him give a harsh swallow, but surely I must have mistaken it.
Turning to face the ground through the cushioned face hole of the massage bed I felt myself flush again. This man has said little to nothing to me and yet I am disolving into a pile of goo on the floor. Truly pathetic. Call me the Wicked Witch because I, too, will apparently die if I get a little wet.
As Harry gently kneads my legs I feel the ache between my thighs becoming harder to ignore and debate ending the session. This is supposed to be relaxing but I'm so wound up and in my head that I fear I'm making everything worse.
After several more minutes of imagining what other areas my masseuse could work on I let out a frustrated sigh and resigned myself to end the session. I begin to lift myself up when I feel him place a firm hand on the back of my upper thigh. I freeze, my hands gripping the edge of the table but waiting for any indication of what's happening.
"Wh-"
"Just lay back down. I know. I've got you."
I tilt my head in his direction, still too scared to make eye contact for fear that I'm imagining what he's implying.
"Harry what do you..."
He moves his hand up my thigh a fraction of an inch.
Clearing his throat he asks, "Is it alright..." he moves another inch, "if I touch you?"
The question hangs in the air as I try to imagine a world in which things like this happen to people like me.
"Yes," I say in a breathless whisper. Scared that someone will hear. Scared that I'll make him disappear.
He places a hand on my shoulder and delicately pushes me back down onto the table, holding me between the shoulderblades as he slides his hand between my thighs. When I feel the tips of his cool fingers caress me my body tenses on instinct and I clench my legs around him. His minty cool breath hits my face as he bends down and whispers, "relax," in my ear as his index finger begins to glide up and down my now soaked panties.
After a deep breath I begin to ease the tension in my legs, letting them fall farther apart to give him more access.
His hand moves slowly, exploring everything still hidden from him by thin cotton. It’s a dramatic difference from the pounding of my pulse ringing in my ears. My breath comes out in choppy puffs as I harshly swallow and try to calm myself down. The friction of cotton against me sends zings of pleasure through my body and I clench my fingers trying to hold onto this side of the earth as it begins to spin around me. But the pleasure is outweighed by my need to feel him on me. In me.
Without much thought I gently ease my hips up from their propped position on the pillow, my body taking over and letting him know I need more. That’s when I feel his fingers gliding along the seam of my panties, teasing me.
“Can I-”
“Yes,” I let out in a low moan. I’m not above begging at this point. I appreciate the checking in. I do. But if he doesn’t touch me right now I fear I will fall apart, fractured and broken, unable to hold together the ache that's been building inside me.
When he pulls aside my drenched underwear and begins to slide a finger through my arousal everything else in the room turns to fog. There is only the soft glow of blue light, me, and Harry. I am in the clouds and he is propelling me higher. When he finally makes his way to my throbbing clit the ground falls away beneath me.
Harry’s free hand trails up my back until gently tangling with the hair at the base of my neck, giving it a firm hold. His other hand is working slow, torturous circles around my aching nub. Every time I start to feel the pressure build in my lower belly he moves away, collecting more of my arousal before starting the process all over again.
Swirl.
Swirl.
Swirl.
Stop.
Again. And again.
I can’t help it when a whimper escapes my lips as he does it for the fourth time. At the sound Harry gently releases my hair allowing me to look over my shoulder at him, where his sparkling green eyes are already trained on mine. A small smirk is on his lips. He’s enjoying working me up. As we look at eachother I can see the challenge in his eyes. He’s pushing me and I have no stamina to put up a fight. Another desperate whine escaped my throat as I breathlessly choke out a, “please.”
Please is always the magic word.
He keeps our eyes connected as he removes his hand just long enough to drag down my now soaked underwear. One finger slides inside of my dripping pussy, and then a second. My eyes roll back and then close as my jaw falls open, taking in the pleasure and the pressure of the fullness. His fingers are long and hit that spot inside of me that makes stars explode behind my eyes with ease. As he begins to massage my g-spot his thumb resumes the tortuous circling of my clit and I bury my head in the cushions to attempt stifling my moans. My hips begin to rock back, urging him to… I don’t know what. But I need more of him.
Suddenly a firm hand slips around my waist and between my breasts, pulling me up so I’m forced to prop myself on my forearms. His hand continues up and gently locks around my throat. A sob of appreciation escapes me as he begins to fuck me harder with his fingers. Tears pool in my eyes as the pressure in my belly becomes almost too much, begging for release. Harry tightens his thumb and ring finger against my airways, giving me a delicious high as I feel him lean over me again, breathing in sync with me.
“You’re so tense…” he gently pants next to my ear. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know. We’ve got to get all of these knots out…”
Just then Harry releases my throat and tears spill as the headrush overcomes me. I’m gasping, trying to bring myself back to reality, when I’m suddenly pushed back down to the table by my shoulders. Harry holds me firmly to the table as I hear him shuffle around behind me.
Then his mouth is on me.
He moves to wrap his arms underneath my thighs, his rough fingers digging into my soft skin as he spreads me open and buries his face in my cunt, his tongue gliding up and down - savoring me - before settling on my throbbing clit.
I hear a moan escape him as he firmly sucks my clit between his lips. The pressure of his tongue is the only thing keeping me grounded. Everything else falls away and all that matters is that plump pink mouth pulling me towards nirvana.
His left arm remains holding me tight as his right hand slides up the back of my thigh, leaving a train of goosebumps in their wake. A firm hand gently kneads at my ass before sliding his fingers back into my entrance. The feeling of his mouth and his fingers are so intense I try to lock my legs, but his grip is firm. I am at his mercy and god I fucking love it. I bite on my palm to stifle my moans, not wanting to get caught in here.
Harry is all about the tease. Working me up and leaving me wanting again. My body is all stars and electric currents, twinkling so bright and zapping me back into clarity. But if I am the stars, Harry is the sun, blinding me to every sensation except that mouth. That fucking mouth.
The only sounds are choked sobs, panting breath, and the slick slide of skin on dripping skin. My body is sticky with sweat but the room keeps me cool, despite feeling like every nerve ending is on fire.
I begin to move my hips again, riding his fingers and his mouth as he flicks and sucks and slides in and out of me all at once. Harry groans in appreciation, his fingers digging into my flesh harder. I reach back and grab Harry by his bun, holding him to me, too scared of the moment slipping away. With a low chuckle Harry nips at my swollen nub and then applies pressure with his tongue in a pulsing motion.
The sensation starts in my toes, a gentle fizz like bubbles rising in a glass of celebratory champagne. The tingling spreads, climbing higher and higher. As it reaches my legs, they tense on their own, every muscle coiled tight with anticipation. I don’t notice I’m holding my breath until a dark haze begins to blur the edges of my vision.
And then everything inside me shatters.
The orgasm that hits fractures me into a million pieces, too powerful for a sound or a breath to escape. I am frozen with pleasure, completely at his mercy. Harry’s fingers continue to thrust into me, helping me ride out the orgasm as long as I could. Removing his mouth, he blows a cool breath on my sensitive clit and I throb around his fingers as I start to come down. When he finally takes away his hand he softly massages my calves and I work to regain control of my breathing.
Neither of us look at each other for several minutes, the only sound to be heard is our jagged breaths.
In.
(hold)
Out…
In.
(hold)
Out…
I gather enough strength to sit up and remove the pillow from under my hips and look over to see Harry leaning against the stone wall, watching me closely. His hands are at his sides and he’s subtly flexing his fingers, clearly unsure of what to do next. Despite his black pants and the dim lighting of the room I can still make out that he is in need of a release. The bulge beneath his scrubs looks painfully restrained.
I slide off of the massage table and tentatively walk over to him, never breaking eye contact.
Worry crosses his face as he opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t normally…” but his voice trails off as I slowly lower myself to my knees in front of him. I never take my eyes off of his and can’t help but smile inside as I see his chest begin to rise and fall at a rapid pace.
I place a soft hand on his thigh and tilt my head, giving my best doe eyes. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know…” I glance down and back up, repeating his own words back to him. Sliding my hands up his thighs I let my fingers run along the waistband of his pants. “Can I…?”
Harry lets out a strangled, “yes” as his head falls back against the wall. A few strands of hair have fallen out of his bun and gently curl around his face. I almost lose sight of my task as I take in just how beautiful this absolute stranger is. A faint flush creeps up his neck, his lips are full and slightly swollen, and his eyes carry a subtle, dreamy haze.
I attempt to return his torture by taking my time untying the knot from his scrub pants and pulling them down, but when I see the tiger tattoo on his thigh all plans are thrown out the window. I’m suddenly salivating and desperate to see all of him. More tattoos reveal themselves to me - soft words by his knees and jagged lyrics along his ankles, disappearing behind socks. I bend down to press my lips to one knee, then the other, without thinking. Taking hold of his thighs I begin to kiss my way up, savoring the feel of his muscular thighs as the clench in anticipation. I rise over the tiger and past his hips until my mouth landed on the ferns resting just above his black boxer briefs. My tongue traces the lines of the ink as my hands work down his underwear.
Pulling back I take a moment to admire his cock that has so patiently - and painfully - been begging for some attention. His heavy erection twitches as I take a soft lick of the precum that’s starting to drip before sliding my mouth over him and taking him into the back of my throat. Any attempt at going slow was now abandoned. His hips buck at my swiftness and I feel his knee give a tremble beneath my hands. I pull off of him, giving the tip of his cock a swirl of my tongue before sliding back down and setting a steady pace.
As my nails trail softly down his thighs, his hands dart to my hair, gripping it firmly. I can sense the tension radiating through him, his body taut with restraint. Pulling away, I pause, waiting for his gaze to lock with mine. Reaching up, I touch his arms, letting my hands glide down to meet his. With a small, reassuring nod, I signal it’s okay, and his grip tightens in response. He guides me back onto him and gives a few testing rocks of his hips to make sure I’m okay. A shuddering sigh escapes his lips when he finally pulls me to the hilt of his cock and holds me there for a few moments. I swallow around him and he begins to move his hips again.
My eye’s never leave his face as he slides his cock in and out of my mouth. I want him to know my gratitude. I want him to feel as good as he made me feel. I can feel my arousal building again as I watch him, amazed that I’m the one making these emotions of pleasure cross his face. His eyes are closed, his mouth gently hanging open as soft puffs of breath and stuttered gasps fall from his lips. The serenity of his face are a stark contrast to the fevered pace he is keeping. Tears fall and saliva dips down my chin as he roughly fucks my throat, but I’m so turned on I can’t stop myself from reaching down to relieve the pressure between my legs.
When Harry sees me touching myself he withdraws my mouth from him, a string of spit connecting my mouth to his still swollen cock. His eyes are dark as he tugs my head further back and looks from my face to my fingers working fast circles on my clit. Giving him a smirk I lift my fingers to my mouth, but as I go in for a lick I’m met with his tongue already there, desperate to taste me again. For the first time our mouths meet in a desperate kiss and Harry drops down to his knees to meet me. Hands and lips and tongues become tangled as we pull each other closer, closer, closer.
Harry hoists me up and places me so I’m straddling his thigh, his hands tightly gripping my hips and sliding my dripping cunt along his tiger tattoo. I wrap one arm around his shoulder, my fingers fumbling with the hair tie as I release his long curls. I pull away from our kiss and take a moment to admire him before spitting in my hand and gripping his still needy cock. We work our bodies in sync, my hips sliding up and down with every stroke of my hand on him. Desperate moans escape me as my head falls forward and rests in the crook of his neck.
I grind my clit down harder on Harry’s thigh, savoring the blissful friction as I roll my hips but so desperate for a second release. His hips had started rocking into my hand letting me know he was just as eager to come. Without breaking my stride I let the spit pool behind my teeth before releasing it to dribble down, meeting the hand that was frantically working him towards his release. Harry leaned forward and captured my lips again, his hungry togue sliding into my mouth.
Losing control, I moan into his mouth as the champagne bubbles float upwards again. Harry’s grip turns bruising as he pulls me down harder along his thigh while I maintain my rocking motion. When the bubbles finally reached the surface and overflowed I let out a silent gasp, unaware that I had been holding my breath again. I feel Harry’s cock pulsing in my hand and open my eyes to meet his as we finish together. Our hair is stuck to the sweat along our foreheads and our cheeks have a matching flush. I can’t bring myself to break his gaze as we both release soft, uneven breaths, waiting for our breathing to steady.
Several moments pass before a giggle escapes me, followed by another, and another. Harry shakes his head but begin to laugh as well. And so we sit there, naked, on the floor of this massage room, laughing until our stomachs hurt and tears run down our faces.
As I walked back to my car my cheeks still ached from smiling. Harry and I hadn’t spoken a word about it while we cleaned up, just shared quiet chuckles whenever our eyes met. At the locker room, his fingers brushed my arm, lingering for a fleeting moment before he turned and disappeared back into the spa center. I drove away with a sense of calm I hadn’t felt since before grad school, a weight lifted off my shoulders—and a package for five more sessions tucked in my pocket.
After all, some knots need more than one visit to work out.
^Hii, this is my first Harry short story! I'm a bot creator, but I've decided to try something longer. I hope you like it. Don't be too mean to me, it's my first time🫡
SUMMARY: You're reading a book in the university cafeteria when a guy you've never seen on campus approaches you.
Word Count: 1.1k
[uni!harry]
"What is the book about?" The unfamiliar voice makes you look up from the pages to find yourself staring into green eyes, a half-smile, and a cap perched backward. You frown slightly and look around. The university cafeteria is still pretty empty. It was eight in the morning, and everyone was in their classes.
You look back into his green eyes and then check the cover of the book you were reading, as if you needed to remember its name, "It's about... nothing important, not historical, not... classic or idealistic..." Are you getting nervous? "It's a romance book," you finally say.
"Okay, but you didn't answer my question... what's it about?" He laughs a little, tilting his head, his gaze dropping to the cover of the book and then back to me.
I look around again. There's no one here except for the owner and us. I didn't even notice when he came in, and according to my calculations, he's in the same year as me, so he should be in class right now, and so should I, but that's not the case right now.
"It's about..." my gaze meets his again; he's genuinely interested in what I'm about to say. "A boy and a girl who hate each other but are physically attracted to each other and make an agreement to have sex without anyone knowing, with no strings attached and all that."
"Oh yeah, typical teenage stories that you girls read," he says, looking back at the book. "The author didn't put much effort into finding a title, did she? 'Twisted Hate,' I wonder what it's about."
I don't know if he was trying to be a jerk or if he really was. But I didn't like that air of grandeur at all. He had approached me just to mess with me? What a fucking moron.
"Never judge a book by its cover. It could be the next literary gem and you don't even know it," I say, turning my gaze back to the pages, not wanting to continue this conversation.
But he wants to keep talking.
"Let me guess... eventually feelings start to develop and they decide to be together, have kids, and blah blah blah, same plot for every book. It never fails," he says, smiling, knowing perfectly well he's getting on my nerves.
"I can't answer that because I'm still halfway through the book." I don't look up. "But what does it matter? Isn't that what we all want? A happy ending?"
"Don't look at me. I don't read books, but if I did, they wouldn't be romantic comedies, believe me." He leans against the wall next to the table where I'm sitting, and after a few seconds, he speaks again. "At least you're not one of those who reads comics."
I frown. "What's wrong with comics?"
"Oh, no bad reason, but to me they're not real books."
"Yeah, surely watching a soccer game is way more interesting than reading, right?" I turn my head to look at him; he has a smile on his face.
"So you know I play soccer," he says, tilting his head.
"I don't know, but I noticed you're wearing sweatpants and your soccer cleats are hanging out of your backpack. Plus, you're here during classes, which means either you're skipping school or you have team practice on Tuesdays at 8:30." For a moment, I think I might have come across as a stalker and that I might have scared him. But nothing like that, because he laughs and sits down in the chair next to me.
"Very observant for a girl who reads rom-coms. What's your excuse for skipping school? Because I'd notice if you were on my soccer team." he rests his arms on the table and his head in his hands, still staring at me.
"Let me tell you, it's none of your business." I look back at the book, but he takes it away from me, making me sigh. "You've set out to screw someone's life up today, and it's my turn?"
"Kinda." he closes the book in his hands and places it on the table. "I'm not going to snitch, you know? You can tell me. Or... you can tell me your name."
I let out a small laugh. Is he supposed to be hitting on me now? Why would he want to know my name? And why am I even thinking about telling him?
"It's not a total secret, either. I just... don't like the professor very much." I fiddle with my hands nervously, but he doesn't notice.
"Does that mean you're not going to tell me your name?" He raises his eyebrow slightly.
"I thought you wanted to know why I'm not going to class," I brought my gaze back to his.
"Not anymore, now I want to know your name." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, too bad, that's not going to happen." I slide the book back toward me.
"So we have a girl here who likes to play hard to get." He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. "I like it."
"Of course..." I roll my eyes slightly. "Of course you're one of those. Now's the time I spread my legs for you?"
He smiles, "Most girls do, I don't see why you don't."
"I'm going to have to give you the bad news: you're not my type." I open my book again.
"Of course I'm not." He throws his head back, laughing. "What's your type? Can you answer that?"
"Not you." I smile sarcastically at him, making him laugh again.
"I can change that, give me time." He gets up from his chair in time for the cafe owner to call his name.
"Cappuccino for Harry," the woman says, placing the to-go coffee on the counter. He picks it up, takes a sip, and turns to look at me.
"Now you know my name, don't you think it's unfair that I don't know yours?" he asks, tilting his head.
"Bye, Harry. I'll look for you around the soccer field," I say, watching him head for the door.
"I hope so because you won't see me in the library." he says as he opens the door to the outside.
"Latte for [Y/N]." The cafe owner says and I inwardly curse myself for the timing.
He smiles and looks back, meeting my gaze. "[Y/N]... such a pretty name." I press my lips together to keep from smiling. "It was a pleasure meeting you, [Y/N]." He leaves, closing the door behind him, and I turn my head to the owner.
"You're welcome," she says, smiling.
part 2
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If you liked it, you can leave me a heart and repost it so it can reach more people. Thank you very much!🩷
Yes bestie, you are on the right blog and yes, I did write some angst!! Hahaha hope you enjoy!
Verse - Singer!Harry x CEO!Y/n
Word Count - 2.1k
Warnings - some insane making-out at the end ;)
Harry has been writing an album, and while Y/n wants to go easy on him, she just can't adjust to his absence and the fact that he has abandoned their relationship. But Harry is quick to realise his fault and remind her that they're fireproof.
In the quiet of the night, Y/n found herself tangled in a web of thoughts, questioning her feelings curled up into a ball on the huge bed.
Harry was yet again, not home. It had been a week since he started coming home later and later. He said it was because he was very close to finishing his new album, and Y/n wasn't quite sure if he realised that whatever he was doing out there, was beginning to put a strain on their relationship.
She wanted to be mature and let him be, knowing his profession was way different from hers. But the question, 'would he have adjusted like this, for this long?' plagued her thoughts.
The corners of her eyes were moist, and she only felt smaller and smaller as the night rolled on. It was pouring outside and even though the balcony was closed, Y/n could still hear the noise, and it only made her more aware of the static silence looming in the house right now.
She wanted to stop thinking so much, knowing that she was going to reach conclusions even she wouldn't believe herself in her right mind. But when she closed her eyes, sleep didn't come and when she opened them, Harry still wasn't sliding into the bed, next to her.
But she must've dozed off amidst her misery because she woke up the next morning with Harry's body tangled with hers, with his head in the crook of her neck, one arm under her head while the other one remained draped across her stomach and his legs twisted like ivy around hers.
She was sweating profusely. So, she got right up and lowered the AC's temperature so that Harry wouldn't wake up drenched like her. Surprisingly, there was no sleep in her eyes. She felt as awake as she'd been in the early hours of the morning.
Climbing down the stairs with nothing going on inside her head, she got herself a hot glass of water with some added lemon juice and went to sit on the sofa in the living room showcasing the sunrise.
Her shoulders were tense, eyes dry and unmoving. She knew there was going to be an argument between the two of them when he'd wake up. But that's okay, because they truly needed to talk this out before things went spiralling a little too far.
She was ready to sort this out and get the tension over with, but she still had that nagging feeling that he might leave the house without bidding her goodbye, leaving behind a mere note mentioning that he loved her and would miss her in the studio, while she'd be in the shower, preparing herself to sit and talk to him.
But that wasn't going to happen today -- she wouldn't let it.
Soft pads of footsteps perked her ears up, but she didn't turn to see him. She just knew that he was rubbing his eye with a knuckle, something that she'd want to disapprove of him for and he would make the faces at her that she found ridiculously funny and had grown to love.
But then she felt warm hands press against her eyelids, closing them and a mouth breathing near the nape of her neck.
"Why are you sitting down here, hm?" He spoke rather quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence. But the rasp in his voice definitely punctured it.
"I think we need to talk," softly, she held his hands and lowered them so they sat intertwined with hers, upon her collarbones. "Please," she whispered, her tone begging him to listen to her and not distract her.
But he was seemingly working well because her eyelids were still shut.
"Well, we can after I have some cuddles with you," he pushed the topic under the rug, knowing that once they'd be done, the both of them would probably be running late.
"No, H," Y/n said sternly, eyes flying open as she pulled on his arm for him to come in front of her and sit. She didn't say much when he just sat on the coffee table in front, opening her legs and putting his closed ones in the space between.
"Say," he said, his eyes set on hers with a nonchalant expression, but Y/n could read the tension in every flexed muscle of his arm and the tightness in his set jaw.
Y/n took a deep breath then. The only thing easing her nerves was the earnest look in his eyes, like he was willing to sit and actually sort this out.
"Don't you think that we haven't really been spending any time together, as of lately?" She spoke just as slowly as her breathing was.
He only nodded at that, albeit little tensely, urging her on.
"I feel that that has been putting a strain on our relationship."
He was still for a couple seconds, or maybe minutes, Y/n wasn't sure.
"I feel the same, babe, I truly do feel the same."
Y/n sensed a but coming, so she didn't speak.
"But I can't really help it, not for a while," he sighed, and Y/n's gaze lost the softness that had been glazing her eyes.
"You're writing an album, and I'm willing to understand how tough and exhausting that must be, but you can't just abandon us for that," she spoke with nods and shakes of her head, her voice rising a level higher.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"I've really been trying to be easy and not go on biting at you for not spending each breath of yours beside me, and it should've been easy but it's not because," she stopped to take a breath, one that shuddered. "Because you used to do that, and now you're suddenly not and I'm sorry that I haven't adjusted to it as quickly as you have!" Her brows rose, adding to her words like she was trying her all to make him see the point.
"And I understand if that's too much to ask from you right now, but at least speak with me or spend some time with me because this is a relationship, Harry!" She wanted to stand up and to pace around, but his hands were on her knees, and she didn't want that loss of contact.
Taking a breath to calm herself a little, she crossed her fingers with his again. "It's like we're mere roommates," she began, looking into his tired eyes, noticing his dark circles for the first time.
She didn't even know when they'd first appeared.
"I didn't realise that," he took a breath as if it was suddenly hard for him to speak. "I didn't realise that, that - that's what I'd been doing," with slumped shoulders, he lowered his gaze.
"But I -- you didn't put in any extra effort, either," he insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "You could've visited me at the studio or asked me to stay for a while longer or - or, I don't know!" He finished frustratedly, flailing his arms.
"Oh?" She said before thinking, then took a long breath. "Alright, I agree that I should've done that. That this isn't a one sided thing since it takes two hands to clap," -- she slumped back, crossing her legs -- "but wasn't it you who left while I was bathing, not even bothering to bid me goodbye for the day? Or to send a text mentioning that you were going to be late or that you were ordering food in the studio itself?" She almost suggested.
"I'm sorry about that, I wasn't thinking straight," he said clearly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.
"So why did you begin kissing me and fucking me every time that I tried to bring up the issue?" She said, maybe a bit more roughly that she'd intended.
"I wasn't doing it to shut you down, the hell?" He looked as if she'd accused him of robbery. "It was just mere coincidence! Yes, I should've stopped when you began to talk but you fell into me as well, didn't you?" He was standing up now, a frown settled deep between his ungroomed brows.
"I missed you every second I spent away from you, it was you who I was thinking about constantly so pardon me if I was exhausted out of my mind and wanted to spend some time with you!"
Y/n gaze was the guilty one now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," she accepted, her throat too dry for her to gulp.
"I just, I can't believe you'd think so low of me," he sighed. "But it's alright, okay? I know we were both frustrated and not thinking straight," he sat back down and held her hands again.
With his thumb and index finger, he softly gripped her chin to coax her eyes into meeting his.
"Forgive me? I promise I will never write songs about you again," his frown turned into a grin, and he leaned in to hold her gaze when she broke a smile that melted into laughter.
"I hate you," she mumbled, moving to sit in his lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, uncaring about the risk of the coffee table holding their weight unsuccessfully.
"Yeah, I forgive you as well," he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss upon the lobe of her ear.
"Just, don't forget me," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist when he picked her up.
"I really made you think a lot of things, didn't I?" He spoke like he was apologising. "I'm really sorry, love."
He was carrying her up the stairs when she pulled away from the nape of his neck to look at him. "I'm sorry too," she said genuinely, holding his gaze.
"It's okay," he whispered, opening the door to their bedroom by pushing against it with his back before he pushed her onto the bed, climbing in after her and bringing with him the blanket which he wrapped the both of them in, holding her tight against him before he whisked himself away to hold his phone.
"Let's take today off, but don't forget to bring in fresh ideas, tomorrow then!" He said into the recorder and sent the voice message, sliding his phone in his bedside drawer then and lying back down, facing Y/n.
They stared at each other for a little, before Harry broke a smile, making one crack on Y/n's mouth as well. “Baby, we’re fireproof,” he said, smugly grinning, and making her laugh.
"Kiss me, you fool," she gritted with a scrunched nose, grinning widely until Harry hurried to seal their mouths together, the force causing her to move her head back a bit.
His scent suddenly filled all of her senses, him being all that she could see, feel, hear, and smell. The same vanilla scent with a light hint of some cinnamon and some woody scent that she’d been missing so terribly.
His tongue fought against hers until she gave up and he finally had the full access to her mouth. His breath hot against her skin bringing tingles under her skin, and making blood rush to her cheeks and fireworks erupt inside of her.
Backing away to catch his breath, Harry let out a hoarse chuckle when she came forward in the chase of his lips, causing their noses to smush. Licking his lips, he looked at her mouth for a second too long, seeing a kiss she always let him steal. Cupping the back of her head, he pushed her mouth to his’, relishing in the feeling of just how down bad he felt for her.
Slowly, he pushed her until her back was flush against the mattress and he was hovering above her, his dainty necklace resting on her neck as he claimed her mouth again, his palms slipping under his shirt that she’d been wearing and making their way around her body without much hesitation due to the map of her body inscribed among the lines on them.
Her back arched off the bed, pressing her abdomen against his’ while his knee parted her thighs to press up against her core. And as she slumped down into the mattress, the friction between her legs had her swaying her hips for more.
His hands grazed around her abdomen and stomach, caressing her back before he realised that she didn’t have a bra on. Groaning into her mouth, he pulled back to catch his breath.
Still heaving, a smirk pulled the right corner of his mouth upwards.
“Look at you, getting mad at me just because I was writing too many songs about you in the studio,” he teased, and before he could’ve taken another breath, his eyes rolled back as she pulled on the curls near the nape of his neck, and pushed him right back to her mouth once a breath or two had filled their lungs.
I said the title once in the story, then decided it sounded like a good title
Sorry for any mistakes, this one might have a lot 😭
WC:1.3
Y/N never thought she would become this desperate, but alas, here she is, waiting for her possible Sugar daddy to arrive. She never had anything against people who had one; she even made jokes about it, but when it came down to actually getting one, it was embarrassing. She’s at a place where she really needs help, and has no family to rely on, so a sugar daddy it is.
The interest rate on her loans is crazy; at this pace, she will never be able to pay them off. And her shitty apartment isn’t doing it for her anymore. Her locks don’t work, and the landlord said he’ll charge her a crazy high fee if she changes them without his permission, as it violates the contract she signed. The electricity goes in and out, and she hasn’t had a hot shower in three months.
And yeah, she could get a second job, but being a pediatric nurse is extremely draining at times. So generically, she found a trusted website that matches sugar, daddies, and babies. There were a lot of duds, a lot of creeps, and some very weird fetishes, but then she came across someone named Harry.
He seems respectful enough, and he’s handsome, so that’s a plus. He’s not one of those really old men; he’s only in his early thirties, which is nice. From their conversation, it seems like he’s lonely, and he loves buying stuff for people, so he wants someone to spoil, she guesses. He asked what she mainly needed help with, and she explained her situation. He said if it all goes well on their date, they will form an arrangement where he will pay off her loans and move her into a better apartment, as long as she spends 3 nights with him a week and goes to events with him as his dates. This is all under a contract, of course, that he’ll bring with him, and she can read over. And that honestly sounds suspiciously good and helpful for such little effort on her part.
She had gotten to the restaurant a little early, just to mentally prepare herself.
To add, this is probably the most expensive restaurant in a 30 mile radius.
Her knee bounces under the time as the time of their date approaches; she almost wants to bail, but she really does need the help.
Suddenly, the doors opened, he had requested a private room so nobody would bother them, and Harry stepped in.
"Hey, love, how are you?" He asked gently, and Y/N was kind of surprised. She wouldn't expect him to sound so soft-spoken. She expected him to sound firm and authoritative.
"I'm good, how are you?
He shakes her hand; she thinks that's kind of professional, but this is kind of a business deal, since they could sign a contract, so she guesses it makes sense.
He sits down, tells her he's doing well, and asks if she has had a chance to look over the menu. Which of course she did, she looked over the menu before she came, so she wouldn't sit here staring at it for an hour, but she just nodded.
"You don't have to be nervous, Y/N. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement; no need to worry." Again, he is so gentle and kind, it's throwing her for a loop, that voice is doing things to her, and it shouldn't be. " Would it help if we just go straight to it and save the small talk for later?"
She nods at that because, yes, that would help ease her anxieties.
"Alright, so I know we talked over text, but can you just explain more about what you need help with financially?"
"Well, I have a lot of student loans, and I guess I used some shady companies because their interest rate is ridiculously high, and I can't pay for that and my rent at the same time. As for my apartment, the locks don't really work, and the door gets jammed. The hot water broke a few months ago, and the electricity goes in and out a few times a week. I'm a nurse, so I need electricity when I have to answer patients' questions.
"Okay, those all sound very fixable things. I can help you with that. What's it like being a nurse?
"It can be hard and draining, especially since I'm in pediatrics. Seeing kids hurt and sick isn't fun but being able to help them conquer the fear they have about the doctors is rewarding. I just love helping people, especially children. I try to babysit on the side as well, but I normally have to work back to back 12-hour shifts for a day, sometimes a week at a time, to just afford the basics, you know."
He nods in understanding. "I'm truly sorry that sucks. Working as much as you can and not being able to live comfortably is ridiculous.
Y/N just nods in response. As the waiter comes to take our orders. Once the waiter is gone, Harry turns back to me.
"So, it's no secret I'm lonely, I've come to terms with it, it's kind of embarrassing, but it is what it is. I want to find someone I can take care of and spoil because it's something I enjoy doing, but I also want that person to semi-care about me or at least pretend to. And that's honestly hard to find if that even makes sense. " Y/N almost feels bad for even being here; he sounds so vulnerable and has to pay someone to be with him to have someone, but she has hoped they will form a genuine bond.
"I can do that, I mean, you don't seem like a bad person, so I think being with you won't be an issue." Y/N gives him a soft smile.
Throughout the rest of the date, they spend time learning the basics of each other. And honestly, they have a good conversation, even as the food arrives and they start eating, they click well, so maybe this arrangement won't be too bad.
"Okay," Harry mutters once they've both finished eating, "did you want an arrangement because if so, we can finalize this now".
Usually, this kind of sudden decision-making would stress her out, but this time she takes a leap of faith and says, "Yeah, now is good."
He nods and calls his lawyer, and before she knows it, she's reading the contract; she's not stupid, so she's taking her time, making sure nothing shady is going on. It says either one of us can end it at any time for any reason, which makes her feel comfortable. Once she's accepted what she read, she signs the contract, as did Harry.
His lawyer leaves, and Harry turns to me." I own an apartment complex, so I can get you moved into there tomorrow if you're free." She nods, confirming she is. " But, until then, I can get you a nice hotel with locking doors, hot water, and stable electricity."
She confirms with that plan before Harry slides a black card to her, his credit card. Yes, that was in the contract, but actually having all this money in her hands is gratifying.
The next thing she knows, she is in a car going to the hotel room Harry booked, after she had gone to her apartment to pack an overnight bag. She takes her first hot shower in months, then lies in bed.
She got a text from Harry.
I'm very happy you accepted. Tomorrow I can have some movers bring all your stuff to the apartment of your choice, then I can take you shopping?
Yeah, that sounds good, just let me know when!
Y/N goes to be with a lot of thoughts in her mind. This isn't somewhere she would've ever pictured herself being, and she isn’t sure how to feel, but a part of her feels hopeful, like maybe this will go well, and they'll become friends and have a real bond. At the very least she’ll get temporary support.
A little teaser for you all of the porn star H one shot I’ve been working on. Coming soon!
Normally a confident, well-put-together guy, Harry is completely flustered by Obscenity Studios’ latest set assistant: you. And with him as the company's most famous, successful and popular porn star, being flustered by you – or anyone, for that matter – is not something he’s really meant to be.
The attraction to you was instant. The infatuation, too. Even after the working day was done, Harry couldn’t get you out of his mind. The way you style your hair. The shape of your eyes framed by thick lashes. The plumpness of your mouth never without cherry chapstick – something he often fantasises licking off your lips. Your outfits, casual and comfortable for long days on set, but stylish enough that he was influenced to introduce some similar items into his own wardrobe; the stack of mixed-metal pendants around his neck and the dark-humoured slogan, cute-animal print ringer tee tight on his toned torso proof of that. Your voice. Your walk. Christ, even the way you breathe, which isn’t any different to how anyone else does it, really, but it’s you doing it so it’s special and perfect and he just can’t stop obsessing over it and every other little thing that makes you you.
Yeah, it’s safe to say Harry is down bad. Which is a rarity for him given his line of work and the fact that even before he became an adult film actor a few years ago, he always opted for casual flings with little to no emotions attached, erring more on the side of no.
And what only makes it worse — or rather better, considering he’s a bit of a masochist — is that you could not give two shits about him.
Being the star of the studio, everyone panders to Harry. Treats him like the minor celeb he is, which he doesn’t mind at all. He’s worked hard to get to where he is — pun intended. It’s nice to reap those rewards. To be a little bit of a diva at times, though nothing too crazy. He’s still a gentleman, of course. When required, at least.
But you, well… you simply don’t do that. You treat Harry how you do every other actor, which is professional, a little bit guarded, and a lot grumpy; something everyone at the studio appreciates – along with your more-often-than-not black attire Harry personally adores – that earned you the affectionate nickname of Wednesday Addams.
There’s no special treatment for him from you, which he loves despite also loving the way everyone else sucks up. You’re different, with your claws sunk deep into Harry without even realising you’ve sunk them at all.
And that only makes him like, want, need you more.
Where the real problem arises regarding his obsession with you is that he struggles to keep focus when at work, specifically during scenes. Yep, that’s right. Harry’s eyes have wandered toward you on more occasions that he can count when he should be looking at the person he’s balls deep in.
Yet he just simply can’t help but stare at you, an addiction so bad that he’s even been caught and called out on it once by Jolie, the director. That led him to blush and apologise, and you — totally unaware he was even looking in the first place, because you were on your phone most likely ordering or organising something for the studio — to roll your eyes a little, clearly annoyed that the scene was taking longer than it should because the star wasn’t doing what he was meant to be doing: a busty blonde by the name of Crystal.
After that, Harry managed to snap back into work mode.
Sort of…
Those rolling eyes of yours gave him plenty of incentive to screw the life out of his on-scene partner, but he didn’t see her face or feel her cunt anymore. No, it was all you, and he unleashed holy hell until the woman he was actually fucking squirted so much, screaming his name as she did, that it caused applause from all the crew. Including you.
That notice from you has only left Harry craving more. But given how rattled you’ve made him, he doesn’t know how to get more. Hasn’t a clue on how to act around you. How to approach you besides the usual brief and basic pleasantries you exchange. How to make you feel even a sliver of how he feels: fucking possessed.
And right now, being in so close proximity to you in the editing room while you, him and Jolie watch the final cut of his latest movie, Harry has half a mind to sneakily Google the number of any nearby priest that can perform an exorcism on him. In his mind, it’s the only solution to his pesky little problem.
