#lhh!harry

[cherryskies-harry]

loss of my life.

[zclhes]

Word count: ~ 2,400

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader (you)

POV: Harry, first person

Setting: 2015, Harry's house in Hampstead

Rating: Mature, 18+

Warnings: soft smut, explicit sexual content, consensual sex, clitoral stimulation, fingering, grinding/outercourse, vaginal penetration, deep penetration, gentle sex, slow sex, sleepy sex/morning sex, unprotected sex, implied cockwarming, use of pet names, established relationship

Summary: A quiet morning, shared breaths, and lazy touches beneath the sheets. You and Harry take your time, letting intimacy unfold naturally.

I wake up because the sun rays, filtering through the only half-closed blinds into our bedroom, gently tickle my nose. I feel the strong urge to sneeze, but I try to suppress it with a nose scrunch, because I sneeze quite loudly and I really don't want to wake you. You, my beautiful girlfriend of almost a year, who, after three months of touring, is finally sleeping in my arms for the first time in what feels like forever.

I rub my tired eyes as I carefully roll onto my back before slowly blinking them open, just enough to glance at the radio alarm clock on my nightstand—9:38 am. I groan in annoyance and turn back towards you, pulling the covers up a little higher over us. It's actually long past my usual time to get up, but I can't bring myself to leave this warm bed and you, not yet.

I snuggle up to you again from behind, my arm gently moving around your waist as I press a tender kiss to your bare shoulder. God, I missed you so much, your soft skin, the sweet sounds you make when you sleep, your magical smell that makes me feel more at home than anything else in the world.

You're not just gorgeous, you're incredibly smart, witty, kind, and supportive of my career. Sometimes I wonder how the hell I ever convinced you to date me, a long-haired, scruffy boy bander.

My palm slowly caresses your stomach, gently enough not to wake you, and when you let out that soft, contented sigh and your lips quirk into that cute little smile, I swear, I'm about to devour you right then and there. You're by far the cutest creature on this fucking planet, and I'm way too deep in love with you.

We lie there for a short while, me breathing in your scent and stroking your belly, you still fast asleep, somewhere in dreamland. But then I suddenly feel it. It starts with a slight pressure in my lower stomach, which then shifts far too quickly between my legs, and before I've even had time to realise it, my cock springs to life and all my blood rushes downwards. "Fuckin' hell, seriously, mate?" I grumble softly as I lift the covers slightly and look down my body, my cock now standing at full attention, as if mocking me.

"Treacherous bastard," I huff, before pulling the covers back over us, trying to ease the pressure between my legs by shifting my position slightly.

But then you suddenly move, unconsciously pressing your ass against my crotch, and I can no longer suppress a soft moan. "Fuck, baby, you're not playing fair right now," I murmur into your shoulder, pressing my face into it to muffle any further sounds. My cock is now twitching uncontrollably against your buttocks, getting harder with every second of friction, and I don't know what else to do but rock my hips slightly back and forth to try and find some relief.

As I continue to roll my hips, my ringed hand slowly travels down your torso and finally between your legs. Your thighs tense reflexively as I gently trace my index and middle finger over your folds, while simultaneously peppering your shoulder and the base of your neck with soft kisses. I know I'm not playing fair by waking you up because of my own needs, but fuck it, I haven't had sex in three bloody months, I'm more than needy, and morning wood is an asshole anyway.

"Missed you so much, Angel." I murmur softly into the hollow of your neck, my hips still rolling as my fingers gently slide between your folds. The moment my fingers first brush against your sensitive clit, you flinch involuntarily, and a barely audible moan escapes your slightly parted lips. I smile, pleased by your reaction and begin to tease your clit with gentle, slow circular motions, feeling you slowly awaken from your slumber.

Your body arches back against me, and your cheeks tighten around my aching cock, which I'm still slowly rubbing up and down between them. The sudden pressure makes me pause briefly, and a loud gasp escapes my lips as I struggle to control myself.

"Ngh...Harry..." I then hear you whimper softly and I slightly increase the pressure of my fingers, causing your hips to jerk forward, seeking more friction.

"Mhm...good morning, sweet Angel." I whisper lowly in your ear before giving your earlobe a playful bite and kissing my way back down your neck.

A shiver runs down your spine as I gently suck on your neck, my fingers now moving slowly up and down between your folds, trying to collect some of your sweet juices to make it even more enjoyable for you. "You're already so wet for me," I say in a husky voice, continuing to rub my fingers over your clit, enough to make you feel pleasure, but far from actual satisfaction.

My cock is now painfully hard, and the way your buttocks clench each time I brush against your sensitive bud doesn't make it any easier to restrain myself. But I don't want to rush things, I never do. I want you to be ready to take me, to enjoy this as much as I do. The pace is your choice, always. I kiss the soft skin on your shoulder, and my hand slowly slides lower until I finally gently slip two of my fingers inside you.

Your reaction is immediate and wonderful, your back arches, your thighs open automatically to give me more room, and a mix of soft whimpers and moans escapes your lips as your eyes stay closed in pleasure. "H-Harry..." you croak as my fingers slowly start to move in and out of you, the cold metal of my rings only adding to your pleasure.

"Right here, Darling," I whisper softly, my movements now agonizingly slow, driving you as wild as you drive me wild by squeezing these damn perfect buttocks together.

The pressure in my cock is building to an unbearable level now, and I know I can't stand not being inside you much longer, so I push my fingers deeper inside you, curling them slightly until your walls reflexively close around them, and a deep moan escapes your beautiful lips.

"Harry, please," you whine, clearly impatient, pushing your ass even closer into me as you squeeze your cheeks around me once more. My trapped cock twitches uncontrollably, and my breath catches in my throat again. "Mmh, greedy much, eh?" I murmur, slightly amused by your sudden impatience. "Not so sleepy anymore now, are you, Angel? Want me that bad?"

Your only response is a soft moan and the pressing of your hips into my hand. My index and middle fingers now move rhythmically in and out of you, while my thumb teases your clit in circular motions with varying pressure.

The movements of my hips become somewhat unrestrained as desire slowly but surely clouds my senses and takes over my actions. I need you, and I need you now. "Gonna make you feel so good, baby," I whisper raspily in your ear as I slowly slide my fingers out of you, eliciting an almost desperate whine from you and a soft chuckle from me. It's amazing how you can go from fast asleep to wide awake and needy in just a few minutes.

I gently grasp your hips and reposition you slightly in front of me until the angle is right, resting my hand with gentle pressure on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs apart as I align the tip of my cock at your entrance. I feel you briefly hold your breath in anticipation, but then your body relaxes against mine, and I know you're ready for me. With one gentle, slow thrust, I slide in until I'm fully sheated inside you. A soft moan escapes us both simultaneously in the moment we are completely joined together in the most intimate and wonderful way two people can physically connect.

The feeling of finally being inside you again after three long months, of being able to be so close to you again, is overwhelming, and I pause for a few seconds, giving us both time to savor this first, blissful moment of pleasure. You're so tight and warm around me, simply perfect in every single way.

But then, after a short while, the urge to move becomes too strong, and I slowly begin to rock my hips back and forth. "Feels so good, Angel," I groan lowly as my hand slowly travels up your body and gently cups one of your breasts. My thumb lightly brushes your nipple, and the sound you make, a mix of a gasp and a moan, almost drives me insane.

My lips are still placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, your skin so incredibly warm and soft, just like the tight heat my cock continues to move in and out of.

We quickly find a shared rhythm, our movements slow and still a little sleepy, even though we're both wide awake now. The feeling of our bodies moving in perfect sync, as if they were made for each other, is one of the best things I've ever experienced. No stage and no award in the world will ever compare to you. Nothing will ever feel more like home and "this is where I belong" than you. The way I feel safe and at peace when I'm near you are incomparable, and I wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone in the world.

As your sweet, soft moans slowly intensify and your walls tighten around my cock more often, I know you're nearing your climax, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't also start to feel that familiar pressure and warmth building in my lower half. My hand glides smoothly down your body until it disappears between your thighs again, and I slowly begin to tease your clit with gentle movements.

Your body, now glistening with beads of sweat, just like mine, arches slightly, and you clench so hard around me that I briefly bite your shoulder reflexively, trying to release the sudden surge of pressure somewhere other than by coming too early. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Angel," I apologize immediately after, kissing the spot on your shoulder that now shows the mark of my teeth.

"It's okay." You whisper in that soft tone you always use to speak to me, and when my fingers brush your clit again, you immediately tense around me, causing us both to moan again.

The moment seems so simple, so quiet, so calm, but to me, it's everything, everything I didn't know I needed until I met you. This, right here, means more to me than anything else. Being close to you in this intimate way, feeling you, and knowing that you feel me too, feels amazing. The way we move together and drive each other over the edge is better than any extraordinary position we ever tried or any crazy place we've ever had sex in.

But before I can even continue spinning the most cheesy thoughts like a lovesick idiot, I feel us both, almost imperceptibly, but simultaneously, increasing the speed of our shared movements. My fingers, too, are circling your clit faster now, and your wonderful, soft moans are driving me almost over the edge. But I hold back. I want you to find your release first before I follow you into that beautiful moment of pure bliss.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see your hand grip the sheets in front of you tightly, and hear your breathy voice, "Harry, I-..." and then you're falling apart before you can even finish that sentence. Your moan echoes from the walls of my bedroom, your body convulses in my arms as you cry out when you finally reach your peak.

The impact of your release, the way you're clenching down on me, is enough to pull me over the edge as well, and when I thrust deep inside you two more times, I also reach my climax with a guttural moan just seconds after you.

"Fuuuck, baby." I curse into the back of your neck as my eyes automatically fall shut and the force of my orgasm briefly makes my vision whiten out while my hips stutter and I release myself deep inside you.

We ride out our orgasm together, my hand still slowly caressing your clit, my in-and-out movements slowing until we both finally come to a complete stillness, panting softly, my hand now resting on your stomach and my forehead on your shoulder.

"That was perfect. You are perfect, my love," I whisper softly, scattering lazy kisses across your warm skin as we both savor the aftermath of our orgasms. You smile softly and place your hand over mine on your stomach under the blanket, which has slipped down a bit from our movements.

I feel my cock slowly soften inside you, but I don't bother to pull out. I love this intimate moment of continued connection after the act itself is over, and I'm also just a very needy lad who craves affection. Okay, and maybe I'm also a little lazy, but of course I would never admit that.

I nuzzle my face against your neck and sigh contentedly as I breathe in your signature scent—you smell of mornings, and sex, and yourself, and I'm not exaggerating when I say it's the most beautiful smell in the world to me.

Our bodies are tired now, but completely relaxed, and I chuckle softly when you suddenly let out a deep yawn. "Still tired, love?" I ask before your yawn catches up on me and I, too, can no longer suppress a long, blissful yawn.

"A little," you reply sleepily as you move our hands along your body until my palm rests on your chest, right above your heart, your hand still resting on top of mine. Your steady heartbeat beneath my hand causes me to relax even further, and soon my eyelids begin to grow heavy.

"Let's go back to sleep, yeah?" I murmur sleepily, receiving only an approving hum from you, which brings another smile to my face.

"Love you," I hear you murmur softly, already half asleep.

"Love you, Angel. Always." I reply with a contented smile before we both drift off to sleep again.

@lizsogolden @harrysredshortshorts @avensgreenvans @maudie-duan @carolinaastyles @sparklejumpropequeen1113 @pops234 @lomlcamy

@taraijbharper @sunflowerry-vol6 @dove702 @fallingwillow @eleanohoran @alex-voiddome @wtvrevie @angeldavis777 @daphnesutton @cherrycherry444 @mattiessunflower @indierockgirrl @gem1712 @triski73 @emmie2308 @liltpwk @stylesfantasy @fangirl509east @mads3502 @littlefreakmadz @maddwoman

[harrywavycurly]

Glitter On The Floor: Glasses & Glitter

Masterlist: Here

CW: Harry is a bit of a mess, shyness, mentions of how you’re treated at work, long hair Harry, kinda nerdy reader and Harry has a small obsession with glitter.

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: I am happy to share this story with yall and I hope you enjoy this first little look at these two!✨

Tag List: @definegirlfriendsx @swiftmendeshoran @prettydelilah @umadirectioner @foreverforeverhs @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan @mads3502 @everyhug @namoreno @maladaptivescorpio @bethiegurl19 @aileen1237 @harryspirate @dxnycast @discohoee @irishone11 @likea-silhouette @carina-tia @cryinonfilm @aviisreal @daphnesutton @vikiii07 @sstylezzz @fkingstyles @psicostyles @zclhes

Summary: You start to stop by the corner store to grab some snacks for your walk home and Harry handles it extremely well✨

Harry’s eyes drift to to small clock on the wall above the door as he walks down the middle aisle of the small corner store he works at, a heavy sigh slips past his lips when he sees he still has a solid six hours left of his shift since it’s only ten minutes past midnight. He runs a hand through his long hair before adjusting his glasses that tend to slip down the bridge of his nose every time he looks down to fix a wonky bag of some artificially flavored fruit snacks that somehow always get knocked out of its spot on the shelf that houses all the gummy type of treats. As he reaches out to grab a bag of chips that someone tossed onto the wrong shelf he notices a few oddly shaped specks on the floor, with the bag of chips still in his hand he kneels down and feels his brows furrow when he watches the small specks shimmer under the bright fluorescent lights making their iridescent shades of pink and purple gleam brighter letting Harry instantly know what he’s looking at.

Glitter.

Having worked at this same tiny little convenient store for a few years now Harry likes to think he’s seen it all, but for some odd reason the sight of a few star shaped pieces of glitter on the freshly polished but still extremely cheap looking white linoleum floor has his head spinning. He isn’t sure how it could’ve possibly gotten there, his head turns to look around him as he stands up and sure enough he finds little speckles of glittery dots randomly scattered all over the floor of the aisle he’s currently on. With a quirk of his brow he places the bag of chips back in its rightful spot on the shelf before slowly rounding the end cap of the aisle, his eyes looking down at his feet as he moves closer to the door just to find even more glitter near the faded welcome mat that used to be a dark black that’s now turned into a light gray with a worn out nearly white patch in the middle where people wipe off their shoes before fully entering the store. He can’t help but wonder what could’ve possibly happened during the day shift to cause so much glitter to now adorn the otherwise boring floors, but before he can even try to make a mental note to ask Niall his best friend who works days he hears the soft ding of the bell above the door as it swings open.

“It smells good in here.” Harry’s eyes are already glued to the floor as a pair of pink and green striped cozy sock clad feet tucked into what he thinks might just be fancy slippers that look like brown suede slip on shoes step onto the mat. “Is that an air freshener or something? It smells like vanilla and—and cigarettes? Not that I think cigarettes smell good but—I don’t know there’s something with tobacco mixed with vanilla that just smells so—good.”

Harry’s eyes slowly travel upward as your soft voice goes on to tell him how much you like the way the store smells, he feels his cheeks get warm when his emerald colored eyes take in the thick plushiness of your thighs that have his palms itching with a sudden need to feel the softness of them under his hands. He has to clench his hands into fists at his sides to stop himself from involuntarily reaching out to touch you, something he would never even dream of doing to a random customer that comes into his store.

“Stop being so fucking weird.” He thinks to himself as he tries and fails to tear his eyes away from you, not ready to stop his journey up your body that he swears perfectly resembles the kind of beautiful soft and plump bodies he sees in Renaissance type paintings, the ones with woman lounging around looking bored or unbothered while people fawn over them.

It’s not until his eyes reach the perfectly round shape of your bottom that your bright pink spandex shorts barely have enough fabric to cover letting a bit of the meaty flesh hang out just enough to have his pulse quickening that his mind finally allows him to think more clearly; realizing he is probably well past casually checking you out and headed towards being a full on creep. Luckily for him you don’t seem bothered by his prolonged glances at your body or if you are you don’t give him any obvious signs and that has a weird sort of guilt started to build up in his chest.

“Uh—uhm thanks it’s actually me.” He says after clearing his throat and taking a small step backwards while averting his gaze to the shelf full of random gadgets such as phone chargers and usb cords. “I uh wear a tobacco and vanilla-” his words get stuck in his throat as he finally dares to look back over at you, this time at your face that holds the warmest smile and brightness eyes he thinks he’s ever seen. “Cologne.” He mumbles as you fix the strap of your duffle bag that’s slung over your shoulder making your chest jiggle under your tight fitting black crop top that rests snuggly above your love handles that look so perfectly biteable they have Harry swallowing thickly before looking back down to the floor to free himself of the wild thoughts swirling around in his head about you, a complete stranger.

“That explains it then—knew I wasn’t crazy.” You tell him with a laugh that nearly has his knees giving out at how airy and light it sounds as you head towards the back wall that’s lined with all the cold drinks. Harry doesn’t mean to be weird as he turns so he’s facing you, his height allowing him to have an undisturbed view of you as you stand in front of the section full of different brands of water trying to decide which one you want.

Harry doesn’t know why you simply walking into his store has him feeing like he’s never been in the same room as a woman before, something about you has his brain melting and threatening to ooze out of his ears and all you’ve said to him is a few sentences while giving him a smile. There’s an awkwardness to his movements as he tries to act normal and walk back to the counter so he’ll be ready to ring you up whenever you’re done perusing the aisles. He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to make it less noticeable that he’s watching you, wanting to try to piece together the puzzle in his mind as to why your mere presence has turned him into some sort of caveman with how he can practically feel himself wanting to drool over how beautiful you are.

There’s a confidence to the way you move that has every bouncy step you take seem choreographed with how effortlessly graceful you are as you spin around so you’re facing the front of the store after grabbing a water, your well manicured fingers run over the front of a package of powdered donuts before carefully grabbing them. Harry pushes his glasses further up his nose as he watches your eyes bounce around the various baked goods on the shelf in front of you, the corners of your mouth dip downwards as you let out a huff before turning and heading towards the back of the store. Your slight pout has Harry’s need to fix whatever is wrong go into overdrive because even though he has only been in the same room with you for less than five minutes he already knows you’re far too pretty to have anything but a smile on your face.

“Is uhm is there something specific you’re look—looking for?” He asks from a safe distance behind the counter while you start to make your way down the middle aisle.

“No I’m just in one of those moods where everything sounds and looks good but I know it won’t really hit the spot.” Your words are simply explaining why there’s a look of almost disappointment on your face as you look over a few bags of chips, they shouldn’t have Harry’s hands gripping the edge of the counter and wanting so desperately to give you something the knows would hit every spot you’re craving.

“For fuck sake Harry get control of yourself you fucking creep.” The voice inside his head is all but shouting at him as he lets his eyes focus on the dainty silver chain around your neck that has a heart pendant resting just above the neckline of your shirt. As his gaze lingers on your neck he feels as if his eyes might be playing tricks on him, with the subtle movement of your head turning to look at a pack of cheese flavored crackers the lights from overhead make a few speckles just below your ear sparkle in a similar way to the pieces of glitter on the floor.

“I think this will be all for tonight.” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, making him pause at trying to connect the glittery dots and solve the mystery of how you managed to leave traces of your visit to his store all over the floor yet he’s never seen you before. Harry stands up straight and runs a hand through his hair as you approach the counter so you can place your bottle of water and pack of donuts down next to the register. The smile you give him has his face getting hot making him look down at your two items, taking a mental picture of the brand of each one as he types in their item number. “Do you only work nights? I was in here earlier but it was a funny guy named Niall I think? He was really nice.” Harry nods and tries his best not to show his annoyance at how pretty your voice sounds when saying the name of his bestfriend.

“Yeah I uh do nights and he—he works days.” You tilt your head as if you’re waiting for him to elaborate as he places your donuts in a small bag and slides the bottle of water over to you. “I’m Harry.” He adds with a shy smile as he adjusts his glasses after giving you the total.

“Nice to meet you Harry.” Your smile is genuine as you take the bag from him while offering him your name in return, a name he knows he won’t be able to forget for the foreseeable future given the trance you seem to have him under just by simply existing and gracing his small little store full of snacks and overpriced gadgets with your presence. “Keep the change.” You tell him sweetly as you hand him a ten dollar bill that’s a bit wrinkled and also has a few specks of glitter on it, that little detail has Harry’s mind taking off in all sorts of directions trying to link together how the glitter on his floors that match the glitter on your neck somehow ended up on the cash you use to pay for things like a bottle of water and a pack of donuts.

“See you tomorrow.” You’re already at the door when Harry snaps out of his daze like state, all he can manage to do is lift an arm up and the laugh you let out has him remembering he actually has to move his hand in order to wave but it’s too late to save himself from embarrassment since you’re already stepping into the crisp night air before he’s awkwardly moving his hand from side to side.

“Holy shit.” He whispers with a heavy sigh as he finally feels as if he’s been set free from whatever spell you placed over him. He takes his glasses off and places them on the counter so he can run both hands over his face trying to clear his mind just enough to make it through the rest of his shift but as soon as he opens his eyes he sees a small star shaped speck lingering on the counter. “So much glitter—why?” He mumbles as he slips his glasses back on and reaches out to press the pad of his index finger to the small piece of glitter lifting it off the counter so he can bring it closer to his face to get a better look at it, as if the iridescent pink and purple speck is going to let him in on all your deepest and darkest secrets.

“Hey Harry!” A regular named Tiffany walking through the door has Harry dropping his hand letting the glitter fall from his finger as he gives the woman a smile trying his best to act normal, desperately needing the distraction so he can at least try to get back into the usual routine of his shift. But at the back of his mind all Harry can think about is your smile and how for once he’s actually looking forward to coming back to work tomorrow if it means he gets another chance at seeing you again.

“Have a good night Kenny—don’t get into too much trouble.” The security guard at the back door of the Pleasure Palace chuckles as he moves to the side and opens the door for you so you can exit the club having just wrapped up your shift for the evening.

“That’ll be easy sunshine since you’re takin’ all the trouble with you.” He teases with a wink that has you letting out a laugh as you step outside. “Be safe—see you tomorrow.” You just nod and give him a smile over your shoulder that he returns before letting the door close.

You sling your duffle bag that has all your work essentials stuffed inside it over your shoulder before walking down the dimly lit alleyway towards the sidewalk. You smile when you see the neon open sign blinking on and off in the window of the small corner store across the street. As you approach the crosswalk your mind starts to replay the last few interactions you’ve had with the tall longhaired man named Harry that works the night shift there, he seems relatively harmless and always keeps his distance while you take your time looking around the various snacks and treats but there’s something about the way he looks at you that keeps you coming back even though you can find cheaper bottles of water and junk food closer to your apartment complex. There’s a timidness to Harry that you’re not quite used to, given your line of work you’ve grown accustomed to men acting a certain way around you that isn’t always the nicest since most of them only see you as an object that’s meant to fulfill their wildest fantasies making them a bit more brave to let their domineering and sometimes aggressive sides run free.

But Harry is different and you don’t know if it’s because maybe he doesn’t know what you do for a living, not that your job is any reason for someone to treat you rudely but usually when people know what you do for work they lower their guards a bit because they feel more comfortable being their true selves, no doubt because they think there’s no way in hell an exotic dancer would dare judge them. And most of the time they’re right, who are you to judge what someone does in their free time when you make your money in a way that would have most people clutching their pearls but for you it’s more so you just don’t really mind letting other people live their life in whatever way they see fit as long as it’s not hurting anyone. You like to keep to yourself as often as you can, your social battery is always nearing zero percent by the time you’re packing up your stuff and counting your earnings before leaving for the night after a long shift at work.

So that’s why you don’t really mind how shy Harry is, sure you’d love to hear him say a few more things to you in that slow deep British accent of his that makes even the simple task of telling you hello take longer than normal but you don’t mind the quiet, it makes the sentences he does choose to speak to you seem a little more special. It also doesn’t hurt that you find him handsome, maybe a bit too handsome at times, like when you walked in a few days ago and he had his hair pulled up in a bun and had on a thin gray t shirt that let you see all the swirls of ink on his muscular arms you nearly pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t in the middle of a mid shift power nap but it turned out that’s just how he dresses on days he has to do inventory. You have a grin on your face now as you cross the street, an excitement building up in your chest as you push open the door letting the familiar ding of the bell above it bring you a sense of comfort as you walk in.

“Hi Harry.” You have to hold back a laugh as you watch him visibly jump at the sound of your voice, he looks up from his phone and you see his cheeks get the faintest dusting of pink to them as his eyes find yours. “How’s it going?” You ask with a smile before turning to head towards the back so you can grab a bottle of water, you let out a quiet giggle when you hear him let out a small sigh of relief now that you’re not making him hold eye contact with you anymore, something you have learned makes him very flustered.

“It’s uhm—uh going good yeah—oh we got more of those uh—uhm uh gummy lifesaver things you like.” He informs you as he leaves his usual spot behind the counter so he can walk down the aisle that holds one of your new favorite treats. “How—how is your night going?” He asks as you turn around after grabbing your water, you can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up from deep in your chest as you find Harry trying so hard to seem casual as he awkwardly rests his arm on top of one of the shelves making a few bags of chips fall to the ground that he quickly bends down and picks up making his glasses slip down his nose in the process.

“I’m ready to be home all snuggled up in bed watching Lord of The Rings until I fall asleep.” You answer with a shrug, Harry quirks a brow at you as he runs a hand through his unruly hair.

“You uh like lord—lord of the rings?” You just nod as he takes a step backwards with every step forward you take until he’s at the end of the aisle while you’re standing in front of the section full of gummy candy. You don’t say anything, wanting to respect his desire for space so you just look over at him making his eyes dart away from your backside and down to the floor while his cheeks turn red because he knows you caught him staring at your ass.

“I do I’m a Samwise girl I really can’t stand Frodo but I get it—he has a horrible task given to him but sometimes he’s just so rude to Sam it makes me want to smack him.” You don’t mean to go off on a small tangent as you grab the pack of gummy lifesavers Harry mentioned earlier but there’s just something about Harry that has you feeling comfortable enough to let all your thoughts out. When you look back over to him Harry’s green eyes are wide in almost disbelief as he stares at you letting you take the opportunity to move a little closer to him without him really noticing.

“What about you? Are you a fan of the hobbits and-” the door opening making the ding go off above it has your question being cut short as Harry’s attention gets dragged away from you and over to the new customer that just walked in.

“I uhm-” He clears his throat before looking back over at you with a shy smile on his face. “Yes I like the books and—and the movies.” He answers as smoothly as possible given how flustered he is once he notices your new proximity to him, being close enough that you can smell his delicious cologne that you’re sure he’s not even aware causes the whole store to smell like him even when he’s not there.

“I’ll be honest I haven’t read the books.” You tell him truthfully as he rubs at the back of his neck with one of his ring clad hands as he turns so his back is against the side of the aisle across from where you’re currently looking, his way of once again creating space between the two of you. “Are they better than the movies?” You as trying to keep the conversation going but Harry just gives you a shrug and when your eyes lock with his he only lets you keep him held in place for a few seconds before he breaks and is walking back to the safety of the counter. Deciding you don’t want to push your luck you just grab a few more snacks on your way to the register, having no clue that with each step small little specks of the glitter you apply to your body before and in the middle of your shift to help you glow under the stage lights are dropping to the floor like glittery breadcrumbs showing where you’ve been.

“Keep the change.” Harry gives you a small smile as you slide over a five and ten dollar bill that you tried your best to iron out but they still have a few wrinkles and crinkles in them. But Harry doesn’t seem to take any notice as he opens the cash register depositing your cash so he can toss whatever change there is from your total into the small tip jar on the counter.

“H—have a good night.” He tells you softly as you take the bag from his hand that to your surprise is extremely soft when his fingers brush over yours in the process of handing you the plastic bag.

“Thanks Harry I’ll see you tomorrow.” You say with a smile before heading for the door, just as your hand reaches up to push it open you hear the sound of his voice and what he says has you grinning all the way home at how genuine he seems while doing his best not to stutter his way through it.

“I uh I’m look—looking forward to it.”

[chocostyles]

WILDEST DREAMS

pairing: long hair!uni! harry styles x uni! reader

warning & content: angst, mentions of sex, curse words, harry acting cold, kendall, no aftercare, cheating, manipulation.

summary: harry has been in a rough patch with his girlfriend for a while, his solution to calm his needs is hooking up with y/n (kendall's bestfriend) no strings attached even though he knows that she has always been in love with him.

a/n: inspired by cassie and nate from euphoria s2.

this is part 1

masterlist | taglist

harry remembers the first time that he touched you very well. it was at niall's party, he fought with his girlfriend kendall and she decided to leave earlier leaving him alone there and completely drunk.

he then saw you standing in the corner of the living room, red plastic cup in your hand while you looked around with a tired gaze clearly not in the mood to socialize, your short blue dress making his breath get caught up on his throat.

he knew approaching to you was wrong but he didn't care, it wasn't even the alcohol acting for him, he knew what he was doing he just didn't care about the consequences.

he only needed 20 minutes of flirting and making you blush to have you against the wall of the bathroom. it was hot and messy, exactly what he needed.

he wasn't surprised at all when you agreeded to hookup with him. it was so painfully obvious from the moment that kendall introduced you to him as her bestfriend that you had a crush on him, made his ego grow.

when he finished he just put his pants back on and left the bathroom slamming the door leaving you alone with your legs shaking and thighs dripping with his release. no aftercare, no "did you had fun?" or "are you okay?" because he knew he didn't need to ask, the way that you were moaning told him everything, at one point he even had to cover your mouth from how loud you were being so he knew that you enjoyed it for sure.

after that night you thought that it would never happen again, he was just mad with your bestfriend and he acted on impulse but you were wrong. not even 24 hours had passed and you already had a text from him.

"wanna come over to my dorm?"

guilt was eating you alive, you knew this wasn't fair to kendall but… you couldn't say no to harry, it was impossible.

ever since you met him you were swooped by him, he didn't even talked to you, he just shook your hand and gave you a little nod before focusing his attention on kendall but that gesture already made your stomach fill with butterflies, it was stupid and pathetic the effect he had on you.

and now that you got a taste of what is like to be with him you couldn't stop.

it became a routine, everytime kendall left his room to go study on the library or had an argument with him he texted you telling you to come over.

"did you put your phone in no disturb?" he asked while kissing your neck, his naked body on top of yours, hands gripping your wrists pinning them on top of your head.

"y-yes."

"good girl."

he only spoke sweet to you before having sex, when he finally gets what he wants he goes back to his usual cold demeanor.

"fuck." he moaned pulling out of you and rolling to lay next to your side in his bed taking the condom off and throwing it to the small bin on his dorm.

his eyes stayed closed for a couple seconds trying to calm his shaky breath, one of his hands pushing his long curls back while the other one stayed behind his head, the sheets barely covering his v line.

he only opened his eyes when he notices that you're not moving from your spot.

"your clothes are over there." he said nodding his head towards the corner of his room, your clothes discarded all over the floor under his desk.

"o-oh… yeah, you're right." you muttered before getting up, blinking a couple times trying not to lose your balance when your vision got blurry from standing up so fast, you never have time to recover from your orgasms because he is always rushing you to get out of his dorm.

somehow you managed not to fall into the floor, the only thing that happened was that you hit your head with his desk when you kneeled down to grab your clothes making him laugh but not in a sweet way, he was mocking at you.

his eyes always stayed glued to your body watching you put your clothes back on while he bites his bottom lip thinking if he should just convince you to get back on his bed for another round or just let you leave.

when he decided that he was done for today he just sighed and grabbed his phone from his nightstand. "the door is that way." he said not taking his eyes from the screen.

that always broke your heart, you had hope that one day he might start seeing you in a different way and not just with lust but everyday he keeps proving that that's not going to happen.

"yeah i know."

"well then leave."

his words always felt like a punch into your face, you knew you deserved someone better, that he was not good enough for you but everytime you tried to pull away from him he always managed to fuck with your head and make you stay with him.

"we should stop this." you said with your hands on his shoulders, his lips on yours while his hands gripped your hips keeping you pressed on his lap.

"mhm."

"i'm being serious." you continued speaking between kisses, your head dizzy from the lack of air.

"nah, you're not." those words made you finally push his chest breaking the kiss, a furrow immediately formed on his forehead while he looked at you offended. "bloody hell, what the fuck is your problem?"

"i can't do this anymore." you whined, your voice breaking when you felt a lump forming in your throat, eyes getting glossy.

"oh for fuck's sake." he cursed under his breath letting his back hit the headboard of his bed, he pinched the bridge of his nose while closing his eyes and shaking his head. "now you're gonna cry?"

"i-"

"after months of doing this you now feel guilty and sorry for kendall?" he attacked you, his eyes now locking with yours while his hands fell to his sides.

"i never said anything about kendall." he was good at manipulating you in the most toxic way, always bringing your bestfriend into the conversation to make you feel insecure. "this is about me and you."

he huffed and rolled his eyes. "yeah, sure."

"i'm being serious."

"no. you're being stupid, you knew what you were getting from the beginning so don't act like a innocent puppy now because we both know that is bullshit." he was starting to raise his voice but stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes.

"hey…" he spoke now with a softer voice, his right hand raising to try and clean the tears that were now falling from your cheeks.

"n-no, don't touch me." you said between sobs smacking his hand away before covering your face with your hands not wanting him to look at you right now.

"sweetheart no- don't do this." he said now circling his arms around you and pulling you to lay on his chest, one of his hands now resting on the back of your head scratching your scalp softly. "shh shh don't cry please, i didn't meant to hurt you." he tried to reassure you.

"but you did." you muttered against his chest, his black shirt now soaking with your tears.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, okay?" he said placing soft kisses to your forehead while holding you close, you could hear the steady beat of his heart against his chest making you calm down slowly. "please forgive me." he begged.

you stayed a couple minutes in silence with your eyes close feeling his hands rub your body trying to comfort you, his lips still pressed into your forehead. you hated the fact that his touch was slowly working on you.

after a couple seconds you raised your head to look at his face, mascara running down your cheeks making you look like a mess. he gave you a sweet smile, his dimples popping out making your heart skip a beat and your stomach do backflips.

"please…"

you took a deep breath and then sighed, your body relaxing on his arms while you leaned your forehead with his, your head was a mess of emotions, then you finally said it, the words he was waiting to hear. "i… i forgive you."

that made his smile bigger, he moved his hand from the back of your head towards your cheek, his thumb rubbing the soft and wet skin there. "thank you, thank you." he whispered before leaning and placing a soft peck to your lips.

when he felt you giving in and pecking him back he sighed and started placing more kisses into your mouth. "let me make it up to you, okay?" he said against your lips, when you nodded your head he gave you another smile and bumped your nose with his before attacking your lips again, his mouth devouring yours.

he got you again.

[narrycherries]

ivy series masterlist

(1) how’s one to know..

harry is just an ass and she is just a stranger — series introduction, bit of angst (8.6k)

(2) an incandescent glow

She just wanted to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things.. — angst and sadness filled (10.9k)

(3) putting roots in my dreamland

Despite wishing he didn’t exist, she had no choice but to be around him.. — short but necessary angst for the story (8.4k)

(4) and now I’m covered in you..

She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should. — a scary situation creates a lot of conflicting thoughts for both characters.. angst (14.3k)

(5) magnificently cursed

She can’t seem to ignore him and he’s rather observant of her.. - angst, little dramatic incident (11.4k)

(6) clover blooms in the fields

She needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available.. - little angst, more fluff (tw: does mention surgical procedures) (12.3k)

(7) crescent moon, coast is clear

She was struggling to let go of her worrying thoughts, but he was determined to help her through it. — there’s some angst & fluff (15.2k)

(8) he’s gonna burn this house to the ground

He has added insult to injury and she gives him one chance to make it right. — bit of angst lots of fluff and dialogue (17.5k)

(9) for moments that we stole

She was trying to figure out how to understand her own body, and he was attempting to help as much as he could.. — includes fluff, angst, hints of smut but not smut, & jealously.. (29.7k)

(10) on begged and borrowed time

She builds up her confidence and he takes care of, just as he promised he would.. — fluff, angst, and finally smut (26.7k)

(11) so tell me to run

He lies too easily to her at times, and she always seems to believe him.. — little bit of smut but mostly angst maybe it’s dramatic maybe not (13k)

(12) watch what we’ll become

She can't get over him and he finally does the right thing. — angst, smut (20.7k)

(13) my house of stone, your ivy grows

He works hard to change his ways and she maintains her patience. After all the hardships, it seems they have figured out how to love each other. — slight angst, smut. the final official update (14.7k) (final chapter)

˗ˏˋ extras ˎˊ˗

blueberry pancakes

she makes breakfast while he cuddles with her plushies - fluff (1.9k)

please yourself like you mean it

he finds something hiding in her nightstand - smut (sex toy use) (4.6k)

clean sheets

she starts her period and has an accident, but he assures her everything is fine - fluff (4.9k)

warm & content

Harry needs Ivy in a different way this time.. - smut (cockwarming) (1.1k)

this series is loosely inspired by the song “ivy” by taylor swift

more pics // more pics (2) // more pics (3)

part 8 teaser post (with photos)

part 9 teaser post (with photos)

part 10 teaser post (with photos)

part 11 teaser post (with photos) extra photos

extra photos 2

part 12 teaser post (with photos)

part 13 teaser post (with photos)

‧₊˚ playlist ‧₊˚

(just a few songs that inspired this series & what I listen to while writing it :: these are my music preferences so if you don’t like them.. don’t listen) •••slight spoilers so be aware/you can skip over this•••

ivy - taylor swift

lie to girls - sabrina carpenter

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - taylor swift

norman fucking rockwell- lana del rey

right now - one direction

souvenir - selena gomez

something in the way - nirvana

fine line - harry styles

guilty as sin - taylor swift

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

brain stew- greenday

the next best american record - lana del rey

dancing with our hands tied - taylor swift

lips of an angel - hinder

tonight - zayn

meet me in the hallway - harry styles

small talk - niall horan

iris - goo goo dolls

so it goes - taylor swift

stay over - tove lo

love is a wild thing - kacey musgraves

false god - taylor swift

little freak - harry styles

crimson and clover - joan jett (& the blackhearts)

I can fix him (no really I can) - taylor swift

get stoned - hinder

angel - kacey musgraves

there you are - zayn

nobody gets me - sza

alone - heart

cardigan - taylor swift

lover of mine - 5sos

mateo- tove lo

strong - one direction

[maudie-duan]

Summary: "And that’s when the tears came. The kind that stole your words and left you in silence, defeated as they slipped down your cheeks in hushed streams, and you forced yourself to turn, to face the mirror that you had allowed to become the enemy."

A/N: Based on this request<- LH!Harry x Plus-sized!Reader Thanks so much for this request @vikiii07 It's finally done. Thank you for your lovely patience!!!! 💓

Word Count: 5.8K

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)

“Babe! I think those swimsuits you ordered finally came in the mail.” Harry announced, calling from down the hallway.

This wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You had spent the morning in bed, dreading the idea of getting dressed after your shower. You were in one of those moods, you know, the self-depracating kind where nothing you did, or anything anyone said, was satisfying. You wanted to blame it on your period, knowing it was only days away from starting, but you knew that wasn’t truly the issue, even if you could feel it in your mood, and most of all your body. 

“Which ones did you end up buying, love? Any that I picked out?” He asked, placing the package next to you on the bed. 

There it was, a daunting, bland box you knew would only make your day worse. You didn’t want to face it, and you weren’t ready to see what the extra weight from your recent vacation did to your body. It’s not like you didn’t know it was there, that you didn’t feel it in the already snug waist of your yoga pants, which you had been squeezing yourself into, hoping that the high waistband would be tight enough to hold everything back.

And of course it did, but only while standing.

When your eyes met Harry’s, he had that hopeful look in his eye, the one you were trying to avoid. It was too positive, too reassuring in this silent moment of self-crisis. 

“What are the chances of me getting a little fashion show?” he asked, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “You know that’s my favorite love.” 

When he pulls back to stare into your eyes, that look of positivity morphs into something searching. His eyes roam over your face, a sly smirk now playing at the corner of his mouth. You knew what he wanted; you could see it in his gaze. That need arising—you’ve seen it for days now, that want knocking at the door of your thin composure. 

Yet you’ve avoided this very moment at all costs.

“Maybe I’ll try them on later. I’m not really feeling it right now.” You tell him, hoping that will be enough, but then he gives you that “come on, babe” look. The one where he cocks his head and smiles, his wordless plea louder than any words he could say, and it’s so gentle, so fucking genuine, that you have to turn away and throw the blankets over your head, so you didn’t get sucked in.

The box hits the floor from your sudden stir, and the loud thud echoes in the room. You listen as Harry picks it up, opens the side table next to the bed, and the next thing you hear is the sound of tape tearing, and you rip the blankets off your head like the gremlin you’re trying to become, narrowing your eyes at him, as you take in his joyful curiosity. 

“Harry…”

“What, babe? I just want to see…”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him, “There’s nothing to see, they’re just swimsuits.” You tried, but then he was pulling them out one by one, excitement etched into his features like a kid in a candy store. 

“These are great, love. So sexy—oh, baby, you did get the one I liked most…that one’s going to be—“

“Hideous.” You say, cutting him off, “disgusting…” 

You watch as his cheerful expression falters, “Well, those wouldn’t be my describing words, darling.” 

“Harry just put them back in the box. I don’t even want to look at them… I’m not in the mood.” You push, sitting up in bed, gathering your robe closed at the neck, not a single inch of flesh showing. 

“Come on, love. We could have a beach day—“ And your head falls against the headboard at the mention of sun and what that would entail, yeah, right… You thought, go to the beach… like this, and chance anyone’s eyes on you… yeah right.

“Babe, that’s actually the exact opposite of what I want right now.” You answer, eyes falling to the box. 

He laughs, holding up a basic black one-piece, and his face lights up, like it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, “black is always classic, I bet this would look really cute on you…although it seems like it would cover all the good stuff…”

Then he grabs another, the bottoms to the two piece bikini with high waisted bottoms, except it was just the bottoms, and he held them up puzzled, a curious pull between his brows, and you sat there mortified, thinking they looked like the biggest pair of granny panties you had ever seen, thinking wow, there was nothing cute about them whatsoever, and when he held them up to his body, trying to figure out their function you held your breath, wondering why the hell they looked even bigger held against his body. 

“Oh, they’re bottoms…are they supposed to be high or something?” He asks, genuinely confused. The thing was. There was no tone, no hint of mockery, the guy was asking a simple question, but something in you felt defensive, felt the need to dumb him down, because how dare he not know exactly what they were the second he held them up, exposing their size, unknowingly projecting back the exact reason you bought them in the first place, and somehow him holding them up to his thin frame only stirred that feeling further. 

“Yes, Harry, they’re high-waisted bottoms…” You say, yanking them out of his hand and onto the bed. 

“I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t know they made them. It seems like they would cover your tummy—” 

“Well—yeah. That’s the point. Not every swimsuit has to be a string of floss to be sexy…” You huffed out watching him grab a V-cut shaped pair of bottoms that would have your ass hanging out on full display, and you knew instantly that this was the one he picked out. 

“Ahhh… This is the one I chose…Remember…” and of course you remember how could you forget? You had been scrolling for thirty minutes, endless options right at the tips of your fingers, but nothing looked amazing, and every couple of seconds, you would catch yourself sighing every time you thought of the idea of purchasing a single one.

That’s when Harry decided to help, your sigh calling him like a siren for help. “That one’s cute. The way it goes up higher on the sides. Sexy even.” Harry told you, pointing at a thong high-rise bikini with thick sides. 

You had already had three other suits in the cart, none that you were entirely thrilled about, but you were going to buy them anyway, because if you were going to suffer, you might as well have options. 

“Can you add that one to the cart? Just for fun, maybe you can try it on for me when it comes in?” He asked, nuzzling his nose into your neck. 

You hit add, already dreading the idea, and when you checked out, and got the confirmation email for your purchase, you let Harry have his way with you, feeding into his apparent want, and as he pressed you to the bed, your mind was already wandering to the prison it would hold you in for weeks to come every time his hand gripped a handful of ass or dug into the meat at your sides. 

And now, here was that full circle moment, you looking up into Harry’s eyes, staring back at you with that same look of want, and how could you deny him something so small and trivial… but this is what you were telling yourself, your mind already out to please, because was it really a small and trivial idea? Because the idea of stretching that elastic material to form around your body felt cruel, this body, in which you had been growing to hate. 

Because it wasn’t small? In fact, it was big, depleting even. A kind courtesy, yes, but at your expense, just to make someone else happy. Especially when everything in you already felt like shit… but you wanted to make him happy, make his day, do the kind favor of trying on a silly swimsuit. Could it really be that bad? 

“Fine,” you hear yourself say, the word escaping on a sigh of defeat. Your fingers reach for the high-waisted set first, and you snatch it off the bed, as you rise, the fabric soft between your fingertips, betraying nothing of the misery it would soon inflict.

You watch as Harry’s expression changes, that boyish grin spreading across his face as he settles back against the pillows, ready for a show. “Brilliant, love. You’ll look absolutely stunning. All of these were great choices. I’m excited.”

His kind words were sharp against your mind as you gathered the pieces into your arms, along with the others, and headed toward the bathroom. It wasn’t until your hand touched the doorknob that his voice caught you.

“You’re not gonna change out here, love?” And his question is gentle, curious rather than accusatory. His head tilts slightly, and you can feel those green eyes studying you, trying to decipher this new puzzle, because it isn’t like you not to change in front of him.

“Umm.. It’s just... The bathroom has better lighting,” you force, not meeting his gaze, and the lie is bitter, but you turn the knob before you can second-guess yourself.

“Alright then,” he says simply, and you hear the rustle of sheets as he makes himself comfortable. No push, no pressure. Just Harry being Harry, and somehow that made the guilt settle even heavier in your chest.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind you, suddenly you’re alone with your reflection and a handful of torment that feels more like a death sentence than swimwear. Because here they were, those high-waisted bottoms out to mock you from where they dangled in your grip, and you remember clicking “X-Large” with such confidence weeks ago. Back when denial was easier, when the numbers on the scale were just numbers, not a fucking verdict ready to lock you away for life.

Of course, you avoid the mirror’s accusatory stare at all costs, stripping down and stepping into the bottoms. That’s when the elastic catches at your thighs, requiring an ungraceful shimmy and tug that was leaving you breathless with shame. When they finally settle at your waist—or what should be your waist—the fabric bites into your soft flesh like teeth. 

This was a fucking joke, you thought, the high-waisted design had promised to smooth and flatter, but instead it seemed to create a strange new map of bulges: one above the band where your skin was escaping like dough from a too-tight pan, and another below where the material was supposed to be compressing a stomach in which it couldn’t contain.

The top was worse. 

You had ordered it in the same size as always, but “always” was apparently a different body ago. It was confusing… How could the cups gap and overflow at the same time? It was completely unflattering the way it was creating four breasts where there should only be two, and the underwire, fuck, it was already digging trenches into your ribcage while the straps strained against your shoulders, leaving angry red marks that would linger long after you had torn this torture device off your body.

There was hesitation as you turned sideways, and the mirror delivered its cruelest blow yet. It didn’t make sense that fucking roll created by the bottoms had somehow made its own shadow, forming its own presence in the room. Your hands move to adjust, to tuck, to try and trick physics into working in your favor, but there was no hiding what couldn’t be hidden.

And that was the cruelest reality of them all.

That’s when you felt the tears, but you swallowed them down; you knew Harry was waiting just beyond that door, probably scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious to the war being waged in this tiny, tiled battlefield.

So you force yourself to walk out, each step a small act of courage or stupidity—you couldn’t decide which, and you held your breath as Harry’s eyes snapped up from his phone, and just like you predicted, they lit up. But his expression was unreadable through the fog of your own self-loathing, because in that moment you couldn’t see past yourself long enough to truly care. Was it desire that you saw in his eyes? Surprise? Or worse, was it horror masked as polite indifference? 

And you stood there, sucking in and lengthening your body like a fucking, side show character, some kind of contortionist, holding your breath, waiting for him to say anything, and all he said was:

“Let me see the one I picked out, yeah?” But his voice was steady, casual, as if you weren’t standing there looking like a sausage casing about to split at the seams.

His words were like a grip around your neck, hanging there like judgment you weren’t ready to face, yet you were already moving, already retreating, ready to be back in the safety of the bathroom before your face could give what his silence had confirmed. He hadn’t said a word—not one fucking word—as you stood there exposed with all your many flaws on full display, and as the quiet stretched between you, it felt like a vicious confirmation, and now he wanted to see more? 

For what? 

To catalog the disappointments you were sure to bring?

“Right,” You forced, throat already tight. “The one you picked.” You couldn’t even look at him as the words left your mouth, couldn’t bear to see whatever expression he was trying to mask on his face, and as the bathroom door closed behind you, you felt your fate looming over you, like you were sealing yourself into a tomb of your own making.

As you peeled the high-waisted tragedy from your body, it shed like a skin you never wanted, leaving sore red grooves in its wake. More evidence of your delusion, thinking fabric could contain what refused to be tamed, and as your eyes landed on Harry’s selection, a thick triangle that taunted the very concept of coverage, you let out a dry laugh, knowing the bottoms were exactly what you feared: a high-cut “V” that would frame everything wrong, showcase every new dimple and fold you had spent months trying to get used to.

But who were you kidding?

And you step into them with shaky hands and are immediately struck with the understanding that this is worse than before. The thick bands they called sides sat exactly where your body was softest, cutting into flesh that spilled over on either side, and let’s not even get started on the back, which disappeared entirely, swallowed by an ass that had expanded beyond what any amount of elastic could handle, and what killed your soul the most was the fucking front, now dipping low, framing a stomach that wouldn’t lie flat no matter how hard you sucked in, because your ribs could only take so much. 

The top itself was a futile practice, completely hopeless. 

A thick band of fabric that might have once contained your breasts now strained against flesh that wanted to escape from the stitching. A tube top with no support, now creating new rolls where none existed before, like one big, fat tire, your breasts now becoming one stupid uniboob. And that’s when the tears came. The kind that stole your words and left you in silence, defeated as they slipped down your cheeks in hushed streams, and you forced yourself to turn, to face the mirror that you had allowed to become the enemy.

Who was this person standing before you? When did this happen? When had your body become a battleground for all your mournful thoughts, rather than a vessel inhabited with peace? Because lately, all that seemed to win were the shitty thoughts, arriving like thieves to steal all the joy in your life. Because there was so much joy and happiness, but it was hard for you to remember the not-so-distant past, when this was what you were. You knew deep down that you hadn’t always hated this body or the person you were becoming, but in these moments, it was hard to venture back to a point when you loved yourself, when this, what you saw now, was the version of yourself being reflected back at you. 

That’s when your legs gave way, and you sank to the cold tile floor, pulling your knees to your chest in a desperate attempt to disappear, letting the tears fall faster, silent sobs shuddering through your body as you rocked slightly, trying to self-soothe in a moment that felt beyond the grasp of comfort. Time was meaningless, slipping away in an empty frame of mind. You could have been there minutes or hours; you didn’t know, but then you heard the soft knock that pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Love? You alright in there?” Harry called out, his voice muffling through the wooden door, concern evident in his tone.

You don’t even try to answer. How could you when your throat had closed around all the words you’ve been dying to say, to scream out loud, to rid yourself of the pained torment that was holding you captive, because you knew more than anyone how hurtful words could be.

Another knock sounds, this time more insistent. “Babe, you’re worrying me. I’m coming in, okay?”

The door cracks open slowly, and there’s Harry, his face shifting from concern to panic when he takes in the scene unfolding before him, and when you look up your face falls, and you curl into yourself more, embarrassed at the sight of yourself on the floor in his chosen bikini, face streaked with tears you weren’t even trying to hide. 

“Oh, baby…” he breathes, then falls to his knees on the ground before you, and he gathers you into his arms without a moment’s hesitation, even when you put up a weak protest. “No, no, darling…none of that. Come here, love, let me hold you for a second.”

“I can’t do this,” you sob into his shirt, breathing him in. “I look disgusting. Everything looks wrong. Everything about me is wrong right now.”

“Stop that nonsense. I’ll have none of that, my love.” And his voice is firm, yet gentle as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s just take a second.” He tells you, pulling back enough to cup your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, holding you with that gaze that seemed to keep your whole world. “Come. Stand up with me, darling.”

“Harry, please—”

“Can you just trust me? I promise. I just need to show you something.” 

And you give him a silent nod as tears spill over the rims of your eyes. He helps you to your feet and positions you in front of the mirror you’ve been trying to avoid, standing behind you, his chest pressed against your back, and when you try to look away, his gentle hands turn your shoulders to keep you steady.

“Look,” he says softly. “I want you to really look at yourself. Not just at what you think you see, but at what I see.”

“Harry, I am looking. That’s the problem.”

“No, love. You’re looking through cruel eyes. Here, let me show you… let me lend you mine so you can see what I see.” Then his hands slide down your arms as goosebumps rise in their wake. 

“You see these arms?” He starts, “These strong, delicate arms. These are the arms that hold me every morning, that pull me closer when you think I’m asleep. Do you know how safe that makes me feel, knowing these are the arms I’ll always choose on any good or bad day.”

And then his hands move to your waist, and you tense, but he holds you there with a gentle grasp. “And, Darling. I don’t even know where to start with this body—” There it is, and like a knee-jerk reaction, you squirm at the mention of the word “body,” but he continues drawing you closer, while planting a kiss on the flesh of your shoulder.

“God, baby… This body—” He breathes into your skin, “This beautiful, soft, perfect body, that fits against mine like it was made just for me. Every curve you’re hating right now? That’s where my hands want to be every time you walk into a room… Every soft spot you’ve been trying to hide? That’s where my mouth is dying to be every time I see even the slightest sliver of skin…”

“Harry—” You whisper at the edge of a sob.

“Give me just a few more seconds, love, I’m not quite finished yet…” And then he’s spinning you gently, hands skimming over your tummy, grazing down to your hips with an adoration you were starting to feel too weak to endure, because how did you get so lucky? How did you deserve such kindness?

Harry doesn’t let your tears of self-pity deter him from his mission to build you up, because that’s what he was doing, and dammit if it wasn’t working, because you believed this man, believed every word falling from his beautiful mouth, even if everything in you wanted to fight it, wanted to crumble to pieces under his touch, and as he shot you a sexy smirk, the one he always gave you when he liked what he saw, he lets out a light laugh, eyes roaming down your body with a new hunger. 

“You know… they say to save the best for last, and baby… This ass you’ve been hiding under oversized tees and cozy jumpers—” And you roll your eyes, shaking your head, “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed you hiding this perfect, lush ass. Baby, oh my god, do you even know what this does to me? Do you know how many times I’ve had to think about gravy and grandma toes anytime you bend over in those sexy yoga pants… I’m a fucking animal, I swear?”

Then Harry howls like a dog, making you jump, and playfully wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his mouth into your neck, and for the first time since he walked into the bathroom, a small laugh escapes. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am I?” He questions, turning you back to face the mirror, drawing your hips even closer, and you can feel the proof of his words pressing into your ass. “You see, love? This is what you do to me. This is what you’ve been doing to me since you walked out in that first suit.”

“Wait? What? Then why didn’t you say anything?” And the question slips out before you can bite your tongue. “When I came out, you just... stared. I couldn’t even tell what you were thinking…”

You study his reaction in the mirror, watching as a flush creeps into his cheeks, a pure sight, noticeable even from behind. “Honestly?” He asks.

And you turn to face him with a nod, gripping at his shirt to pull him into you, “Because, my love… I was really turned on, and I don’t know, I was trying to be polite, and I don’t know… not objectify you.” Then Harry walks you back until your ass hits the bathroom sink, and there’s absolutely no hiding his arousal now as he pushes his growing bulge into your body, and suddenly the air is shifting, thinning, as you draw in a slow breath, your eyes locking with his… and this was a look you both knew all too well.

“Was trying to fight the chub I was sporting…” He whispers, leaning in to push the words into the shell of your ear, and the words hum down your spine, sending a pulse between your thighs, and all at once, nothing else mattered.

It was like the flip of a switch, and he had you. “Was trying to remember that pawing at you like a greedy pup isn’t kind, when you were clearly uncomfortable, wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly…” He rasps, peppering kisses along your jaw, and you close your eyes with a soft smile, not a tear in sight, and you stood there wondering how this man could make you feel like the sexiest woman alive in only seconds.

As he reaches your mouth, lips parted, head falling back into the hand Harry had just wrapped around the back of your neck, and he breathes the words, “But fuck, baby…” at the edge of your mouth, and you spread your legs, opening up space for him to press in closer. “I nearly lost it…Still might...” He tells you, gently taking the swell of your bottom lip between his teeth, and pulling just enough to draw a dizzying moan from your throat. 

That’s when you opened your eyes, watching that boyish grin spread on his face, and your hands found his ass, pulling him into your warm, pulsing center as the room began to buzz with the want that was unfolding between you—the need like a slow simmer, burning just under the surface, and the second his lips pressed to yours, you felt your body growing hot with it. “Harry?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Mmm…” He hums, not wanting to break the kiss, and your hands glide up his body to circle around his neck, fingers already tangling in his hair.

“Harry…” You try again, “I want you to—” But before you can finish the sentence, he pushes his lips to yours, the kiss needy and desperate. His lips move to your cheek, your neck, hands on your waist, greedy and gripping, your flesh plush under his touch, and your eyes are closing, getting lost in the sensation all over again.

“Tell me what you want?” He finally whispers, pressing himself into you, and you graze a hand over the length of him through his sweatpants, watching his pupils expand with a hunger that you, too, could barely contain.

Pleased, by his reaction, you do it again, this time more intentional, your own greed taking way, ready to make him feel as good as he was making you. “I want you to show me what I do to you…” 

“Yeah?” he breathes, hands moving to the edge of the counter, gripping as he walls you in, your hand now slipping past the waist of his pants, taking a warm handful of him into your palm with a slow stroke.

“I want to take this to bed, and I don’t want to leave this flat until you’ve shown me all the many ways you love me?”

“God, baby, I love you so much…” He tells you, “If that’s what you need, then you can have whatever you want.”

“Can we start with this?” You ask, hand stroking up and down his shaft with a calm desperation. 

It didn’t take long before Harry was moving you both to the bed, pinning you against the mattress. Harry’s body hovered above you, radiating enough heat to pull a bead of sweat from your collarbone within seconds. His eyes flickered over your skin as though memorizing every new line and curve, fingertips slowly following, feathering along the wet sheen that trailed down your sternum and pooled in the hollow valley between your breasts.

There was nothing frantic about the way he undressed you, even as your hands scrambled for leverage, pulling at the hem of his shirt until your knuckles grazed the heated underside of his jaw, making him laugh, the sound softer than a whisper against your ear, and he let you strip him down with shaky hands while his own moved slow, slower than the veil of twilight settling after a storm.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—being stripped of all the camouflage, and sinking into the mattress with your legs parted, hips arched and open, so greedy for touch that you didn’t care how desperate it made you seem. 

But Harry wore your desperation with a sense of pride—your growing need, your aching want—as he dipped between your legs, leaving a pathway of open-mouthed kisses up the insides of your thighs, pausing only for a moment to breathe you in, shamelessly basking in your scent, and his warm breath fanned over the soft sensitive skin burning for more as he let his tongue trail promises into the crease of your hip. You couldn’t fight the shudder of anticipation, soaking in the affection of his touch with every passing second. That’s when your hands gripped the back of his head, fingers curving through matted curls until he hummed for you, pressing his velvet-wet tongue to that slick place that had been aching for him.

 His gaze stayed locked to yours, determined—your body his focal point, his focus fixed on drawing pleasure as you became the axis upon which his whole world spun. 

Every flick of his tongue felt like an apology for every mean thing you had ever whispered to yourself, and god it was so good, what you got when you allowed yourself to let go, because you felt it in the way he spent time on you, refusing to move on until you were gasping, legs shaking as you sobbed his name into the air like a fucking prayer, put on this earth for this and this alone, because nobody, not even yourself, had ever made you feel so wanted, you thought as he sucked you through one, then two, slow-burning orgasms, Harry moaning against your pussy as though he needed it, needed you.

You didn’t know how to say thank you except with the trembling kisses you smothered him with as soon as he crawled up your body, blanketing you in heat, as your lips pushed into his damp skin, his salt slick scent filling your senses, egging you on. In that moment, you could barely form words, yet he didn’t seem to need them; he kissed your eyelids, kissed the tears tracking down your cheeks, licked the sweat gathering in the crook of your neck as he pushed out your name over and over, and each time it was like an invocation that stitched you back together each time you wanted to fall apart again.

How could you love someone so much it hurt? You wished there were new words for it, ones that didn’t sound like the thinning, overused phrases that lost their power over time, and yet every time you tried to say something, it snagged on the need inside you, coming out in a moan instead, but Harry seemed to understand the things you couldn’t say—because he said them for you—with his hands, with his hips, with the delicate way he worked himself inside you, inch by slow inch, until you were stretched around him, gasping into his mouth, trying to remember all your senses.

And god, he was so hard, so fucking thick, that you had to squeeze your eyes shut against the stretch. But his hands were there, his thumb caressing soothing circles just above where his cock disappeared inside, while his other hand smoothed your hair from your brow, so tender that you thought you would break all over again.

“Baby, you feel so good…,” he whispered against your ear. “Gunna love you so good, gunna take my time—want to make you feel perfect, can you let me do that?”

All you could do was nod, tears streaming again, his love suddenly overwhelming, but this time there was no shame, just relief as he moved inside you, his hips a slow roll, taking his time, dragging out every sensation until you felt that deepening ache resounding in the pit of your stomach, that knot a gradual coil tightening. Each thrust was like a mantra spilling from your mouths, and every time he bottomed out, you felt yourself shedding all the negative notions of the past, like your body was being rewritten in the curl of his fingers on your waist, and the taste of his tongue in your mouth.

At some point, you stopped keeping track of all the ways he moved you, the ways you moved together, like a sacred dance only the two of you knew. When he brought your knees up, bending you until you were folded under him, nothing about this felt powerless. In fact, it felt safe, like you could finally stop fighting, stop pretending, and just let yourself be loved in all the ways he had promised to love you since that first time he laid you bare, exposing every inch you hated and turning it into a fucking miracle from the universe, a fucking gift he told you.

And now, as your nails streaked marks into his back, teeth grazing his shoulder, you told him—over and over, in every possible arrangement—“don’t stop, Harry,” “more, please,” “I love you, I love you,” until you both were shuddering, chanting one another’s names, your hips moving with a desperation that was as feverish as it was grateful.

He came while he was still inside you, gasping out your name, forehead pressed to yours, and you clenched around him, milking every precious drop, watching his face break with the sweetest pleasure you both could ever give, and there was something holy about it all, about this—about being so wanted by someone that every flaw, every soft and hated bit, had suddenly become sacred in the way he cherished it.

And afterwards, he gathered you to his chest, arms wrapped around you so tight the sweat from your bodies glued you both together, one big sticky, sweet mess as the pounding of two hearts tried to catch up with the moment, and you let yourself be held, not hiding, not wanting to squirm away from his touch, not flinching at the feel of skin on skin, just letting the quiet take shape around you.

“I love you,” you breathed out, when your lungs finally let you speak, and Harry pushed a kiss to your forehead, letting you know then he would never let you forget it.

Neither of you moved, and you lay there, your mind finally at peace, pressed to his body, self-doubt a million miles away. Eventually, you turned to look at him, cheek smooshed into his inked skin, and said, “Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?”

And he laughed, his chest vibrating with the effort. “Only if you wear the suit I picked.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’ll have to give me a couple more rounds of that before I can even think of putting that suit back on…” And you lift your head, moving closer to his mouth.

 “God, baby. That’s all I ever want.” He answers, meeting your lips with a kiss, “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

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[aviisreal]

Holy shit.

[fratboyrrrry]

Clingy & Affectionate. (H.S)

pairing. longhair!harry x fem!reader (y/n pov) warnings and content. pure fluff, soft harry, kisses, clingy, use of pet names, lap sitting. word count. 1,619 summary. after a long and tiring day, y/n comes home to a very clingy harry. having no idea why, she’s just wanting to relax but harry isn’t having it.

I shoved the apartment door open with my shoulder, arms weighed down by my bag, jacket slipping halfway off one arm. The smell of coffee hit me first, warm and sharp, like Harry had just brewed a fresh pot. My whole body ached from the day—feet throbbing, brain fried, and the only thing I wanted was a shower and maybe ten minutes of silence before I collapsed into bed.

But the moment I stepped inside, I didn’t get silence. I got Harry.

“Baby?” His voice carried from the couch, low and eager, the way it did when he’d been waiting for me. Before I could even drop my bag, he was already up and moving toward me. His long hair was a wild mess, curling around his jaw and brushing his shoulders, and his hoodie hung loose on his tall frame.

“Hey,” I sighed, trying to toe off my shoes without falling over. “Rough day. I—”

I didn’t even finish the sentence. Harry’s arms were around me in an instant, pulling me into his chest so tightly I almost lost balance.

“Missed you,” he murmured, burying his face in the side of my neck. His hair tickled my cheek, and I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I let out a breathy laugh, surprised. “Missed me? I left at eight this morning, H. It’s only—” I tilted my head to glance at the clock on the wall. “—seven.”

“That’s too long,” he said immediately, not loosening his hold. He smelled like the coffee he must’ve made and the faint cologne I loved, the one that lingered on our pillows.

I frowned lightly, my hands still caught between us. Harry was affectionate, always had been, but this? This was different. This was clingy, almost desperate. His chest pressed against me like he wanted to mold us into one shape, like letting me go was unbearable.

“You okay?” I asked softly, finally dropping my bag to the floor so I could slide my arms around him.

“No,” he said, voice muffled against my neck. “Not really. Needed you today.”

That made my heart stutter. I leaned back enough to see his face, and sure enough, his green eyes were darker than usual, wide and almost boyish in their vulnerability. His lips parted like he was about to explain himself, but instead, he kissed me—quick, urgent, like he was afraid I’d disappear before he could.

I blinked, pulling back a little. “Harry, what’s going on? You’re—clingy.”

“Don’t like that word,” he pouted, squeezing me tighter. “Just love you. Love you too much, maybe. ‘S all.”

I laughed softly, brushing his messy hair out of his face. “You always love me. But you’re acting like I’ve been gone for weeks.”

“Feels like it,” he admitted quietly, eyes dropping to my lips again before kissing me once more, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. His hands slid down to grip my hips, holding me in place, grounding himself.

“Baby…” I whispered against his mouth, confused but not exactly complaining.

He just shook his head and pressed another kiss to my jaw, then my cheek, then my forehead, like he couldn’t stop himself. “Can’t help it. Just… couldn’t wait for you to come home. Didn’t feel right in here without you.”

My chest ached at that. Harry, my long-haired, confident, cheeky boyfriend, looked almost small in the way he clung to me, like the world had been too heavy while I was gone. And now, with me here, he was desperate to stitch himself back together with every kiss and touch.

I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging gently until he tilted his head back enough for me to kiss him properly. He sighed into it, like I’d just given him oxygen, his arms wrapping even tighter.

“C’mon,” I whispered against his lips. “Let me put my stuff down, and then you can be all over me, yeah?”

But he just shook his head, refusing to let go, chin hooking over my shoulder as he whispered, “No. Don’t wanna wait anymore. Need you now.”

His arms stayed locked around me as if I’d vanish the second he loosened his grip. Every time I shifted like I might pull away, he just tucked me closer, his long hair brushing against my face as he buried his nose into my neck again.

“Harry,” I murmured, smoothing my hands over his back. “At least let me get changed—”

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head against me. His voice was hoarse, stubborn, almost childlike. “Don’t care what you’re wearing. Just want you here.”

I blinked, caught between exasperation and a laugh. He was ridiculous—my tall, broad, long-haired boyfriend wrapped around me like an overgrown vine. His hoodie hung off his shoulders, sleeves swallowing his hands as he gripped me like a lifeline.

“You’re acting like I just came back from war,” I teased, though my voice softened around the edges.

He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, green gaze unguarded, almost pleading. “Feels like it, lovie.”

That melted me. Completely.

I sighed, pressing a kiss to his jaw, then another to the corner of his mouth. “Alright, come on, then. If you’re gonna cling to me, let’s at least sit down before my legs give out.”

“‘M not lettin’ you go,” he warned, voice low but tinged with a smile.

And he didn’t.

Harry practically carried me toward the couch, arms tight, my feet barely shuffling along the floor until we collapsed onto the cushions. He pulled me into his lap immediately, positioning me sideways with my legs draped across his. His hands traced up and down my back, slow, steady strokes that felt more like grounding than anything else.

The TV was still on, muted, but his attention never wavered from me. He kissed my shoulder, my cheek, the top of my head, like he couldn’t stop—even when I giggled and squirmed.

“Harryyy,” I laughed, swatting at his chest gently. “What’s gotten into you?”

He only hummed, resting his forehead against mine. “Missed your laugh. Missed your smell. Missed the way you make the place feel alive. Can’t explain it, love. Just… didn’t like bein’ without you today.”

My throat tightened, and I smoothed my hand through his hair, twirling a soft curl around my finger. “You’re so dramatic.”

He grinned, but it was soft, vulnerable. “Maybe. But ‘s true.”

And then he kissed me again. Not rushed this time—slow, unhurried, lingering until I melted into him completely. His lips moved against mine with so much care it nearly broke me.

When he finally pulled back, he tucked me under his chin and whispered, “Stay here with me, yeah? Don’t wanna let go tonight.”

Something about the way he said it—quiet, raw, like a confession—made me realize this wasn’t just clinginess. It was need. Whatever had been weighing on him today, whatever had left him restless and waiting, I was the answer he’d been aching for.

So I tightened my arms around his neck and pressed closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time since I walked through the door. And just like that, he melted into me—his breathing syncing with mine, his hands never stopping their slow, steady movements along my back, as though keeping me close was the only thing that could steady him.