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#dilfrry
jarofstyles · 2 months
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hey lovely, don't wanna bother u bc you specifically put ceo but those harry pics are making me think dad's friend! harry. like maybe he is married or not. just... dirty thoughts. he is looking very very dilfy.
ACTUALLY UR CORRECT because it does also give that vibe…. So I got a bit out of hand and made it filthy.
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Warnings- age gap, daddy kink, teasing, bratty y/n, name calling/ degrading… it’s dirty but if u want more I’ll definitely continue lol
——
It was always the things she shouldn’t want. Chocolate after midnight, peeking in on Christmas gifts, looking over someone’s shoulder as they texted. Y/N knew she had a taste for things that should not be- but she had definitely taken the cake when it came to the man sitting next to her at the dinner table.
In all fairness, she hadn’t been the only one looking. It was his gaze on her legs that she noticed the first night they were introduced that she had her interest peaked, but it had been nearly impossible for her to leave it alone. Not when he was such a staple in the family dinners they had, the parties her parents threw, hell- he had even joined them at the very lake house they were at now. It was indeed Harry’s lake house that he had offered up for them to use for their annual summer vacation, her father gratefully taking the opportunity. He was just blind to the reason why.
Fucking your father’s best friend was probably one of the worst things you could do, but when they looked like Harry? She doubted many people could blame her. She’d always been into older men and seeing one as successful and charming as the man to her left, it wasn’t hard to give into the temptation. There was guilt there, of course. There was always the knowledge that this wasn’t exactly right and it would hurt feelings. But she wanted to be selfish for once.
The first time they’d said it was one and done. Get it out of their system. The second time they’d called it a mistake. The third they’d blamed alcohol and a wedding. By the forth they’d stopped making excuses. Now she knew the man’s tattoos, knew the spot on his neck he liked to be kissed, she knew his favorite position to fuck her in and that he had the most talented tongue she had ever experienced. She was becoming an expert in all things Harry right under the nose of her parents, who saw him as their great friend.
Her fingers ran over his thigh as he spoke, calm as ever while he sipped his bourbon. He didn’t spare her a glance as they trailed to the inner thigh, her other hand bringing the wine glass to her mouth and her tongue being greeted by the tart bite of the notes in the blend. Harry had gotten this with her in mind, she was positive. Not too sweet.
They were talking about something she, quite frankly, didn’t give a fuck about. They were in two different businesses but somehow found some way to talk about stocks or something like that. Y/N didn’t particularly care as long as Harry kept giving her cute little gifts like the diamond tennis bracelet he’d brought her when they first arrived and he snuck her into his bedroom.
They weren’t alone on this vacation- their little friend group of a few men and their wives and grown kids were at the table too, but her focus was on Harry. His rolled up sleeves and hair freshly cut, cropped close tot he sides and growing a bit longer at the top. A perfect amount to run her fingers through.
She knew she was getting into trouble when her fingers brushed his semi hard prick laying under his trousers, a smirk kicking up the side of her mouth. He gripped his glass a bit tighter, eyes cutting to the side discreetly to give her a look. Y/N didn’t move her hand, instead running her fingertips over the bulge and pretending to be engaged in the conversation.
Of course she was going to pay for this. But the rush made her even more wet. Doing this in front of people, being bratty because she wanted his dick inside of her two fucking hours ago and this dinner was dragging on, she was aiming for him to give in. Her ass would be sore tomorrow but she would love each stinging slap and yank of her hair.
“Cut it out.” He mumbled, hiding his lips with the glass. The words were quiet enough, just for them. The conversation continued around them and no one was the wiser, oblivious to the hand palming over the older man’s cock under the tablecloth.
“Make me, Daddy.” Her soft whisper purred, eyes glittering with mischief. She’d signed her own punishment papers there, watching his own gaze darken before shooting back the rest of the drink that was meant to be sipped and savored. Giddiness shot ip her spine as he ripped her hand off, stretching slightly in his chair before saying he needed to call it a night. There was the unspoken promise that laid under his words, the secret message in his tone that meant for her to follow.
It didn’t take her long to scurry up the stairs and find the master bedroom, slipping inside the dimly lit room- only to be grabbed roughly from behind, a gasp leaving her lips as she was pressed against the door. The click of the lock was quiet, his labored breathing against her ear making her grin widely as his cock pressed into her ass. “You just had to be a fucking brat, didn’t you?” He growled, wrapping her hair around his fist and tugging back so she arched into him. “Gagging for it that much, touching me right in front of your family?” Lips ghosted her neck, making her shudder as the sting in her scalp made her whimper. This was exactly what she wanted, what she deserved. “Dirty whore. Fucking cockslut.”
The degrading words were spit in a way that would make the normal girl want to tear up, but Y/N knew she was exactly what he described. She was a cockslut just for him. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?” The slightly delirious giggle left her as if she wasn’t about to be fucked brainless, but she loved every fucking second of this. Harry didn’t treat her like a little girl. He treated her like a woman, gave her the things she needed. He fucked like a real man should, something she knew no one else could replicate for her. “Are you going to fuck me with them just a few doors down? Don’t think you’re going to make me scream loud enough to get caught…” her mouth dropped as she felt his teeth graze her throat, wishing he could bite down. Not here, not when she had to wear her summer dresses and tank tops.
“No. I’m going to shut you up.” Y/N didn’t have a chance to react before fingers were shoved into her mouth. The two long digits hooking over her teeth, prying her mouth open as she whined, feeling him grind his thickening cock over her ass. She had wanted this so badly, the neediness of her weepy pussy only reacting to him. Her own fingers never did it justice. He’d ruined her in ways she hadn’t expected to ever be ruined, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. “You aren’t going to make a fucking sound unless you want your father to know how disgusting you are. Like to call me Daddy with my cock pounding your perfect little holes.” He hissed, breath washing over her ear as he pressed her further into the door. “So you’re going to shut the fuck up and lift that pathetic excuse of a dress up so I can slip into the sloppy cunt and make sure you keep your hands to yourself tomorrow.”
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adore-laur · 5 months
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MOTHER’S DAY
— a self-explanatory blurb from the dadrry universe 🌷
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——
Toss. Turn. Sigh. Repeat.
Postpartum anxiety kept hitting you in explosive bursts like crash cymbals. Intrusive worries about whether your newborn was breathing or not ruthlessly stormed your brain. Surging heart palpitations that ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide weren't helping your internally erratic state. 
She hadn't wailed those gut-wrenching cries in over an hour. It was a brief slot of time to catch up on your precious slumber, yet your melatonin was overrun by an influx of cortisol. Due to your ruptured sleep schedule, there was also a stinging sensation behind your eyelids. It felt like chlorine or lemon juice had seeped into your sockets ever since day and night swapped places. 
The speckled sky of stars trickled through the linen drapes, painting moonbeams on the bedroom carpet and walls. By the looks of it, you'd undoubtedly be awake to behold the moment they metamorphosed into golden rays of dawn. 
Heart thumping, stomach churning, and chest constricting, you surrendered your chance of a reposeful night of rest and silently slid out of bed. Harry was gently snoring on his side, facing away from you and dead to the world. Lucky him.
You padded over to the bassinet across the room. The moon made it visible enough to see the tiny bundle that was half you and half your husband sleeping there. Your trembling hand reached down and lightly rested on your daughter's belly. It had become a habit lately. Your eyes couldn't help but snap open in the middle of the night, the insomnia-induced anxiety getting you on your feet to check if the human you were responsible for was still alive. 
When you felt her fast breaths, relief immediately flooded your bloodstream. You stayed by her until you were at ease with the steady rise and fall of her chest, then eventually tucked yourself back under the covers and leaned against the headboard. You were wide awake now, and it seemed like it would be another all-nighter. Jealousy festered inside you because of Harry and how he could effortlessly sleep through the night without panic. He'd been so gracious with heaving himself out of bed and calming the baby whenever it was his turn, a true natural when you needed it most. And during those instances, you pretended to be asleep so you didn't worry him. It was hard enough soothing one agitated person, let alone two. 
The clock on the nightstand flicked from 2:36 to 2:37. You bit your fingernails to pass the time. The weight and warmth of Harry beside you pulled you back down to earth, reminding you that you weren't doing this on your own. He was cheering you on, on the same page, and loving you unconditionally. 
Almost as if he could hear your reeling thoughts about him, you heard his snores get cut short by a deep inhale before his hand subconsciously flopped against your thigh. Fatigued fingers felt around until his warm, heavy palm spread on your skin, giving it a tender squeeze. He then rolled onto his stomach with a raspy grunt and turned his head to face you. 
In the faint moonlight, puffy eyes and a drowsy smile said hello. They greeted you with a gentleness that washed away the burdensome stones on your chest. He made you feel calm. Just one glance at him was the only solace you needed. 
He was a tired, tired boy. Technically, he was a grown man, but moments like these revealed that he was just a boy adjusting to the wearing reality of parenthood.
"Sorry for waking you," you whispered, raking your fingers through his disheveled hair. It was still a little damp from his nightly shower. 
"Did I sleep through her cries?" Harry murmured hoarsely, his eyelids drooping until they shut again. 
"No. I just got up to check on her."
He hugged your leg like it was a pillow. "Why? What happened?" 
You could've lied. Or you could've given him what he always asked of you: the whole and honest truth. The latter was the wisest choice, considering he could read you like a family recipe. 
"I had to make sure she was breathing," you admitted. 
Harry was eerily quiet. You thought he might have fallen back asleep, but suddenly, the room illuminated in a yellow glow from the bedside lamp being switched on. It strained your vision for a few seconds, and after blearily blinking through it, you looked at Harry to find him sitting up with the silk sheets bunched around his waist. He yawned loudly, then scooted over to draw you into his body. A trace of citrus aftershave still lingered on his skin. 
"Can't sleep?" he asked, his lips moving against your temple. 
Your cheek melted on his warm, bare shoulder. "Ever since we brought her home, my anxiety has been eating me alive at night. I'm constantly worried about her, even when she's not crying." 
Harry planted chaste kisses on your face. Through slow, sleepy affection, he said, "She's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen." 
"You don't know that." 
"I know she's safe and sound, all snug in the bassinet six feet away from us." When you didn't respond, he added, "If you want, we can move it next to your side of the bed." 
You clutched his hand, loving the smoothness of his palm and how large it was compared to yours. "Can we? Please? I want her close just in case." 
Nodding, Harry brought your joined hands up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. "Let's do it tomorrow so we don't wake her, yeah? We all need sleep right now." 
"Okay. Can you scratch my back? And talk to me?" 
"Of course, sweetheart. Turn around." 
You did, and it didn't take long for him to lift your shirt so his delicate fingers could stroke along the expanse of your back. Goosebumps spread everywhere as you sank deeper into the mattress. The way his touch could envelop you in a blanket of comfort was miraculous. 
"Your postpartum checkup is in a couple of weeks," Harry mentioned, his mellow voice quickly putting a sleep spell on you. "We'll talk to the doctor about everything that's been going on, okay?" He shifted on the bed. "Listen, I get scared too. All I want is to protect her. When she cries, I feel helpless. But we're learning, aren't we? We'll be professionals by the time we're four kids in." 
You couldn't squash the craziness of his last statement because distant dream waves finally carried you away and let you drift in calm waters for the first time in a long time. 
—— 
A serenade of songbirds awoke you the following morning. Then, it was a slight breeze coming from somewhere. You soon realized there was no familiar dip in the mattress next to you, no blazing hot skin glued to you, and no soft puffs of air against your neck. You firmly decided that you loathed the feeling of a cold and empty bed in the morning. 
Stretching until your joints cracked, you squinted from the blinding sunlight gloriously casting over the side of the bed you lay on. The clock displayed 9:04, which was the latest time you had slept in since your third trimester of pregnancy. On top of the clock was a piece of paper you didn't recall seeing yesterday, the type of paper on which you and Harry wrote grocery items on. The familiar handwriting of your husband, which was a tad illegible but endearing nonetheless, had you reaching out and plucking the note from its place. 
Happy Mother's Day. 
Meet me on the beach when you wake up. Baby has already been changed, fed, and everything in between. Sunday breakfast on the shore, made by yours truly, awaits you. 
I love you so much. Thank you for completing me. 
~ Harry 
It entirely slipped your mind that it was Mother's Day — your first one. You'd been too caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to capture a peaceful moment. Needless to say, you didn't even know what day of the week it was sometimes. Apparently, today was worth celebrating. 
After freshening up and tying a robe around yourself, you trod down the staircase. The late spring weather engulfed your senses as the kitchen came into view. The shutters were swung open, letting in gleaming sunshine and a gentle wind that felt like a welcoming embrace. It lifted your spirits instantly and caused you to temporarily forget about last night's troubles. 
You ventured to the beach area, the sand under your uncovered feet enlivening your drained state. Once the ocean became visible, you quickly stumbled upon an unexpected surprise. Harry, the human epitome of sunshine, stood there holding a tray with a vase of blooming flowers, a cup of steaming tea, and breakfast foods such as a peeled clementine, poached eggs, and a golden-brown waffle drizzled with maple syrup. He was in his pinstriped pajamas with sunglasses covering his eyes. Behind him, your daughter lay in a portable baby dome that shielded her from the sunny sky. She was sleeping on her back, her limbs bent adorably. You didn't recall hearing her cry after you finally managed to doze off last night. 
Barefoot with a radiant smile dimpling his sun-kissed face, Harry met you halfway, setting the tray down on a nearby blanket spread out. His arms opened in invitation. You would have jumped in them if you had the energy, merely because his spontaneous thoughtfulness made you want to tackle him and never let him go—lovingly, of course. 
"Make way for the goddess," he said, taking his sunglasses off and eyeing you up and down. 
Makeup-less, half asleep, and moving at the sluggish speed of a sloth, you felt—and probably looked—far from a goddess. But when your husband looked at you like he wanted to eat you for breakfast instead, the tiniest flicker of confidence sparked inside of you. 
"Good morning," you greeted, smiling softly. 
Harry's hands instinctively splayed on your waist, his fingers digging into the cotton fabric of your robe. He was sporting a dopey expression, and you wondered if he got as little sleep as you did. 
Enduring delirious mornings with him had slowly become your favorite domestic kryptonite. When he'd crack ridiculous jokes amidst a quick, lazy round of sex before the baby interrupted, or when he would shuffle around the kitchen making an insufficient meal while accidentally putting the milk jug in the pantry out of pure exhaustion. 
"Let me guess," he said with an exhale, "you forgot it was Mother's Day?" 
You squeezed him tight and breathed in the faint smell of lavender fabric softener on his pajamas. "Can you blame me? I'm practically a zombie most days." You kissed him slowly, tasting the sweet and sticky syrup residue on his lips. "Mm, but thank you for everything. You take such good care of me." 
"Someone's gotta do it," he told you, earnestness lacing his words. 
"I'm trying, I really am. Motherhood is... very grueling." 
"I know, darling. Whatever you need, let me know, and I'll help as best I can." 
You touched his cheeks, absorbing the sun's heat that graced them. "I want to take care of you too. I notice how tired you are." 
He fell into deep thought, and after staring at you for a moment with his eyes dancing over your entire face, he said, "Let's bring back date nights. When was the last time we went out, just the two of us? We can get someone to babysit, then go out on the town like we used to." 
"Can part of our date night involve taking a nap?" you asked, propping your chin on his chest. 
Harry glanced down at you, his green irises clear and happy. "Absolutely." 
"Sounds like a plan." You laughed at its absurdity. How did we go from 'I can't wait to marry you' to 'I can't wait to nap with you'? What has parenting done to us?" 
He tilted his head with a lopsided grin. "It's made me fall in love with you all over again." 
"Even when there's spit-up on my clothes?" 
"Uh-huh," he said, locking you in his hold. "And when you're burping a cranky baby while eating your first meal of the day well past noon. And when you're breastfeeding while sending work emails, your hair unbrushed, and my shirt hanging off your body. There's nothing sexier." 
Truthfully, he wasn't joking around. And you knew that one day, you'd find simplistic beauty in those things as well. 
"I'm a real sight for sore eyes." 
Harry kissed your forehead, swaying you to the sound of the waves meeting the shore and then receding. "You have no idea." 
——
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fkinavocado · 16 days
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Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
extra / alternatively, read on wattpad
*timeline: somewhere after the main story
Piccolo amore (word count: 8k) -updated 8th of April 2024
You don’t know how this ever escaped you before, but as it turned out, Harry had quite the thing for travelling. As a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF (well, he was a father after all), Harry had eventually embraced his freedom after enough years had passed for him to actually start enjoying life again. He had limited visitation rights for his small daughter, Emily, so what was a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF to do other than to travel, namely through Europe, although some of his other favourite destinations had been as far away as Japan.
He was 27 when he first stepped foot in Italy, and, according to Harry, it was love at first sight. Had it not been for Emily, he’d have moved indefinitely, that’s how much he loved it there. He took extended trips though, and had even started to learn some Italian, practising everytime he stayed for as long as 2 months at a time. 
As time went on though, his interior design business really took off back in the US and his growing daughter needed his presence in her life more and more, despite her mother’s interference and efforts to alienate them. Time had flown, and here he was, 43 now and no longer single this time around as he returned after countless years. 
But very much still a smoking hot DILF.
…Tuscany, Italy. Literal heaven on earth. You hadn’t bought the plane tickets back yet, but you were in no hurry to leave. 
It’d been a journey, getting here. And you didn’t just mean Tuscany.
It hadn’t been easy.
Days had trickled by seamlessly. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here for. It was a haze of sleeping in, sunbathing, afternoon naps, decadent food and sweaty, delicious sex.
Looking at him on the wheel of the convertible he’d rented for your stay there, your heart felt like it could inflate enough to break out of your chest. His curls were a delicious mess, he was all tanned and bright eyes as he glanced at you from time to time to flash one of those trademark smiles of his your way. The sun was setting so you’d taken his sunnies off, making him chuckle. “Just wanna look at you properly.”
“Look at the scenery! You can always ogle me but you’re not gonna have this view every day.”
“All I want is you every day.” Yes, Tuscany was breathtaking but whenever you tried to remind yourself to take it all in you inadvertently found yourself settling your eyes back on Harry. How could you, when there was a time, not long ago, when you thought you’d never lay eyes on him ever again?
He squeezed your thigh, his hand in your lap as always and you kept caressing his knuckles, probably doing a great job at polishing his rings as a result. He had to keep his eyes on the road, since these were unfamiliar places you were exploring almost on the daily and almost every road was as narrow as the last.
He flipped his palm over yours, interlacing your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. He then placed it over his heart and you giggled as he pulled you almost completely over to his side in doing so. He let go then, chuckling in return but you kept your arm extended, and ran the back of your hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone, then his ear, running your fingers through his hair a bit, then down his sharp jawline,admiring his perfect profile. 
“I love you, you know,” you nearly murmured, and with the loud sportscar engine you weren’t sure he’d even heard you. 
But he did. Had he still been wearing his sunglasses you probably would’ve missed the way his eyes glazed over, slowly growing sparkly in the sunset light. “Baby… none of that. Come on, let me see that handsome smile again.”
“I am smiling. I’m always smiling nowadays. Always. No matter what happens, my default state is happy, because you’re here. I just get emotional sometimes… never tire of you saying that. Never stop, please.”
It was your turn to get teary eyed. “Baby… never. I’ll never stop saying it, feeling it, showing you how much I love you. All the times I wished I could tell you and couldn’t… never taking a day for granted ever again.”
Harry was pulling over, having entered the town you were passing through to get to the small quaint village where you’d rented out a villa for your stay, and before you could ask why, he leaned over and kissed you senseless. This was another thing you’d never tire of. Harry never kissed just for the hell of it. He put his all into every single kiss, be it small, chaste peck or full on make-out session. “My little love. Let’s have gelato for dessert and then I’m taking you home to love on you, how’s that sound?”
“Can we skip the gelato?”
Harry chuckled. “Darling, are you really passing up ice cream so that I could fuck you sooner?”
“Duh. Feel like licking something else. And creampies are better than icecreams. Come onnn….”
Harry laughed out loud at that. “You’re a menace. Up you get before you talk me into this.”
You rolled your eyes playfully but he was already at the passenger door opening it for you then reaching over to the backseat to grab your jacket. It could get chilly even in the warm summer evenings sometimes. He kept it in his one hand and held yours in his other as you began your slow stroll through the nice little town, but Harry seemed to know where you were headed.
“You got a specific place in mind?”
“Mhm. Used to come here often back in the day. Hope it’s still running, they had the best gelato. A… uhm, local brought me there, so you know it’s the real deal.”
“A local, huh?” You teased. Of course you knew what Harry must have been up to on his trips here when he was younger. Nothing wrong about it, of course, and you felt silly for being ever so slightly jealous over it. Part of you wished you could’ve been together much earlier on, but of course, the age difference would’ve made it impossible anyway. You two had met at exactly the right time. Even so, sometimes you felt nostalgic over the lost time you could’ve had together had things been different. Some of which was just life… and some of it, your own doing.
“Signor Harry!”
Your eyes widened at the interaction between the two men, snapping out of your train of thought, the guilt ebbing away but never really going away, ever. 
You couldn’t understand Italian, but Harry was still pretty fluent, at least conversationally. He understood it more than he could speak it, at least that’s what he claimed, but ever since you’d arrived in Tuscany he only spoke Italian to everyone he interacted with. You just sat back and admired him, Italian sounded hot as fuck coming out of his mouth. You could tell there was always some sort of talk about you going on with the way the people he was speaking to kept looking at you; and the little you did understand- “bellissima”, “ragazza”, “amante”- you knew that was in reference to you. 
This instance was no different, the old man he’d encountered behind the gelato stand seemingly very interested in knowing more about you. Lord knows what Harry was telling them, they all had the same excited reaction, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, sometimes they’d wink at you and it’d make you all flustered. 
“Piccolo amore, what flavors would you like, hm?” He pulled you closer into his side.
“Har, they’re all in Italian…”
He pointed at each, translating for you. “Bourbon vanilla, but I guess you got that, Belgian chocolate too, ummm, rum and raisins, strawberries, mint chocolate chip, lemon, meringue,...” he clarified with the older man and then continued “figs, pistachio, dark chocolate, crème brûlée–”
“Oh gosh, stop, I can’t even keep track of so many… just get me what you think I’ll like, alright? What are you getting? Mint chocolate chip?”
“Duh,” he mimicked you from earlier and smothered a kiss on the top of your head, then gave the old man your order. He’d gotten a cone with two scoops for you, which he handed over promptly. “There you go, lovie. I got you dark chocolate and pistachio.”
“Perfect,” you beamed. 
“Sorry, they didn’t have creampie.”
You nearly choked on your first taste of the icecream but promptly remembered the older man probably didn’t know what that was. Hopefully. Or if it sounded familiar he’d probably think of an apple pie with extra whipped cream, or something. Hopefully.
“It’s ok, that’s what you would’ve wanted anyway,” you teased and gave him a pointed look. He’d slurped you clean from behind as recently as that morning. He pinched your hip he was resting his hand on then diverted his attention to his double scoop of mint chocolate chip, on a cone just like yours. Harry exchanged some more pleasantries with the old man, as well as paid for the gelato, then after you waved at him politely you resumed your stroll through the old historical town.
Harry loved throwing his arm over your shoulders, or better yet, keeping a firm hold of the back of your neck as you walked. He’d always been possessive of you, and, if anything, he was even more so in Italy where men had a distinct way of ogling women, even catcalling- something they’d never dream of doing with Harry by your side, of course, but their eyes roamed freely scanning you head to toe, and you could feel it everywhere you went. Harry must’ve been hyper aware of it too, maybe more so than you were, because he would snake his hand into your hair and angle your head sufficiently to kiss you- the minty, cold feel of his tongue against yours novel and refreshing.  Or even slide his large palm in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your bum a firm squeeze every now and then. “Love this plump arse.”
You puffed through your nostrils, “you better, it’s your fault it’s getting so big. First that fancy pasta and wine for dinner, not gelato, and it’s been like this ever since we got here. I barely buttoned up these jeans today. Gonna have to resort to just wearing my sundresses.”
“You’ll hear no complaints here. Besides, I did say I’d feed you and plump you up, didn’t I? You’re about the same as you were when we first met. Perfect.”
He was right. You’d lost a significant amount of weight in an unhealthy way during your time apart. And he was looking so much healthier too. Happier. 
“You’re beautiful either way, Y/N. I just want you healthy and happy. And I know for a fact pasta makes you happy, so…” he shrugged playfully and you kissed his dimple. You knew he was thinking about the same things you were.
It was hard letting go of the past. You couldn’t erase the time apart and the damage it’d done to both of you and your relationship. But for the past 5 months you’d been rebuilding it, day after day, brick by brick. Some days were tough. Especially at the beginning. It’d taken a lot of love, patience and understanding on both sides to get where you were now. 
But it was always in the back of your mind. 
You still woke up in the middle of the night, startled, somehow back in those crappy places you used to rent out while you’d been on the run. Only for Harry to tighten his hold around your middle, kiss your shoulder gently and reassure you he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. 
Harry battled insomnia for a long while, something he’d suffered with while you’d been apart and couldn’t seem to shake off. It reached a point where he now was struggling not to doze off while softening, still inside of you, cuddling in your post orgasmic bliss, before he could clean both of you up. Took a lot of night-long marathons to get there, but it did the trick. The flipside was you calling him an old man. But what else was new?
It still felt weird drinking wine by yourself at dinner, since Harry was now completely sober. Had been since he’d found you waiting on his doorstep. He’d struggled with it at first. It’s hard giving up alcohol cold turkey especially considering it’d gotten to the point where he got into the habit of getting wasted and getting himself into trouble while you’d been apart. Just to… feel something. 
You didn’t know how he’d done it, but he hadn’t had a sip since you’d been back into his eyes. You knew it must’ve been really difficult, but he kept the struggle to himself. Focused on you and your fragile relationship.
It’d been particularly hard that one time when you went out with his extended group of friends for Halloween and he found himself in a social setting where everyone was drinking around him, for the first time in a long while. And that would’ve been manageable had he not had to watch a new addition to the group give you a hickey, in a game of truth or dare. You still remember how hard it’d been for Harry to reign it in that night- not just the need for alcohol but also keeping himself in check, doing his best to calm down in the bathroom and then leave the party inconspicuously before anyone got hurt. He tried to hide it from you but you found him in time to help him as best you could. You never wanted him to feel like he had to tackle all his demons alone. 
That had been the biggest hurdle so far, but he’d made it through sans incident and you were so proud of him. You didn’t care giving up drinking for his sake if it meant it wouldn’t be a trigger for him, but he assured you that you could indulge whenever you felt like it and that it wasn’t your fault he had to give it up completely. 
You could argue that it was, in fact, your fault. You had argued. You two didn’t see eye to eye on this at all, Harry insisting he wasn’t going to let you take the responsibility for it all: after all, his daughter had caused it all to spiral out of control- he should’ve told her off, been more assertive, taken control of the situation; hell, he should’ve raised her better!
But you tried your best not to go there, the two of you. Not anymore. You’d talked things out for a long while, and just decided it was better not to keep bringing up the hurtful past. There was no use anymore. You’d both learned your lessons from it and it was time to live in the moment. Create new, happy memories, that someday, maybe soon, would completely make up for those 17 months in which you’d both just… existed, at most.
And even when you got teary eyed, like earlier in the car, you didn’t have to speak the words to know what the other was trying to convey and how it all still hurt so much sometimes that it felt like the present was a sweet dream, a bubble ready to burst anytime, only for the two of you to wake up each in their own miserable existence, apart and alone.
It still hurt. You both still hurt, but you couldn’t change the past. So instead of pretending it never happened, you acknowledged it, and acted on it the best way you could, doting on eachother with as much love as you could.
Therapy helped a lot. Gave you the tools to work through it and turn it into a valuable lesson, if anything. 
“You make me happy.”
He kissed the top of your head in response, “think it’s time to head back home. You’re getting needier by the minute.”
You squinted your eyes at him. “Well, excuse me for being a loving girlfriend I guess.”
“Oh, I know you are, baby. And I love it. But whenever you get like this I just know you’re gonna get all whiny and bratty if I don’t fill you up soon. Hm? Am I wrong? You’re gonna tell me you don’t feel all achy already?”
You huffed. Darnit. He knew you all too well. 
“And then if I don’t act on it quick enough you turn bratty. So c’mon.” He placed your jacket he’d been carrying for you over your shoulders, “it’s getting a bit chilly, too.”
Harry was right, as always. You found yourself squirming on the ride back to the villa, rubbing your thighs together. Sure, the wine always got you a bit needy. But you’d acted pretty needy the whole trip. You were just so content and he looked so good and tan and radiant whenever he smiled, he spoke Italian in that low timbre, he fed you goodies and took you to see beautiful places, and then on top if it all he fucked you good and made you feel so loved and appreciated. 
You just couldn’t help it. Your dynamic had shifted slightly ever since you’d gotten back together. He’d always been dominant but now you just naturally stepped wholly into your feminine energy in his presence, letting him take over completely- and not just in bed. You were his and handed yourself over to him fully. And it was palpable. You knew he could feel it too. 
However, he was right about you getting bratty if he didn’t shower you in affection the moment you craved it. Be it because you were in a public setting or what, sometimes you wished you could just hop in his lap and forget about everything and everyone around. He made you crazy with want and need and you were still growing to learn this side of yourself, as he was learning to manage it. You trusted him to lead the way.
You just got impatient sometimes. Maybe a bit bratty even, as he put it.
You scooted closer to him, as far as your seatbelt allowed, and reached to kiss his jaw. You didn’t just stop after a loud smooch though, no, you started mouthing and nibbling at his jawline, licking your way up to his ear and making him shiver. He was cleanshaven, and you took full advantage.
“Just a gentle reminder that I’m driving a motorised vehicle, sweetheart.”
“I know. You always focus and prioritise our safety, driving so aptly down these narrow roads. And then when we’re on longer strips ahead you really hit the gas, so that my hair can fly all wild the way I like and I can throw my hands up and almost feel like I’m flying, and the car is all horsepower and you look like sex personified.” You brought your hand to his lap and began rubbing dangerously closer and closer to his crotch.
“Y/N,...” he warned.
“What? I can’t help it. Whenever you rev the engine it tickles me, daddy… can feel it in my pussy. Now I’m all drippy.”
“Told you you’d turn into a whiny brat. Scoot back in your seat and be a good girl for daddy. Go on, don’t make me ask you twice.”
You huffed irritatedly and did as instructed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window at the scenery trying to distract yourself. It was dark out now and Harry had pulled the top on the convertible, so you really didn’t understand what the big deal was. You could’ve at least given him a handjob…
But finally, finally you got to the villa and as soon as Harry shut the door behind you, you literally jumped his bones, making him chuckle between the kisses you were peppering his whole face with.
“Uff, needy puppy. What’s gotten into you, hm? You’re extra lovesick today. Didn’t I fuck you good and proper this morning? I’m certain you remember it since you had to mention it in front of poor Luciano. He’s 79 you know. What if he’d had a heart attack?”
You gasped in mock offence, “excuse me?! You’re the one who brought it up!”
“I sure did, wanna see?”
You pushed at his shoulder at his stupid pun as he brought you to the bedroom. He was unfazed of course, you couldn’t budge him if you wanted to, and instead threw you onto the bed with a bounce as if you were a throw pillow he’d been carrying, not his “plumped-up” girlfriend.
He began unbuttoning his shirt, a sight you’d never tire of and you squirmed gawking at him before he pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and peeled your jeans off. “Ufff, look at this weepy little pussy. You made a mess of these panties, Y/N,” he tsked and it only made you grow wetter. You loved it when he teased and even humiliated you a bit. “So, are you gonna answer me or not? What got you so cockdumb, darling, hm? Was it the wine?”
“No,” you whined, “you know I only had two glasses… it’s not that. Plus I ate enough carbs to make up for it, anyway.”
“Then what is it, hm?” He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and then pushed your knees to your chest, running his large palms over the back of your thighs.
You threw your head back against the mattress in anticipation and whined pathetically. He was right. You really were extra sensitive tonight. “I’m… I guess I’m ovulating. That must be it.”
Harry groaned deep in his chest and plunged nose first into the fabric of your panties, inhaling deeply. “You smell so heady whenever you ovulate, you know that? Pussy so fragrant, makes my mouth water.”
You’d not gotten back on birth control after so long off it. After a long while of relying on condoms you decided to ditch those, too. Harry pulled out most times, but, since creampies were obviously a hot topic in this relationship, you did ask him to finish inside you occasionally.
Lately it had been more often than not.
You both knew the implications of it, had discussed it. Hell, Harry definitely had a breeding kink to start off with, had had it even while you’d been on birth control since having this kink didn’t necessarily imply actually wanting to get you pregnant. 
He’d expressed it was definitely more than just a kink though, and that he’d only ever felt this way about you. But it was up to you. He already had a kid, all grown up now ( even though Emily was still a delicate topic between the two of you). But you were young and he wasn’t too old to be a father by any means, you had time along the line for this, there was no rush, and there were no expectations either way. That being said, he did express his desire to have children with you if you deemed him worthy of it and if you even saw yourself as a mother someday.
You’d not made up your mind about it, however. You were open to the possibility, but definitely not actively trying for a baby, not yet at least. You still felt like you needed more time together just the two of you.
But the way he spoke to you whenever he talked about fantasising knocking you up really got to you. And he felt so good fucking you raw, felt so good filling you up. It felt so natural and your body craved it, craved all of it. It was primal, and you knew it, but it felt so good to just listen to what your bodies dictated instinctually.
You mewled and felt him pull your panties to the side, “fuck, Y/N. You’re drenched, baby. Why didn’t you tell daddy it was this bad, hm? Would’ve eaten you out in the restaurant’s bathroom or something.”
It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. No better than a couple of horny teenagers, really. 
His mouth on you was divine, as always. You often wondered if other men even knew how to eat pussy the way Harry did. Seemed like some sort of special talent you were either born with or doomed to live without. He knew what you liked and needed better than you did. How else would anyone explain that you could never dream of getting yourself off the way Harry did? 
He pushed your knees further back and really dug in after he promptly peeled your panties off of you. You wanted to beg for him to sink into you but you knew Harry never left a job unfinished, and whenever he ate you out he never left from between your legs until they were shaking and you came on his tongue at least twice, out of which at least once using his fingers also to open you up for him properly. Because, still, after all this time, you couldn’t really take Harry without some sort of warm-up, no matter how drippy you were for him. It was a struggle fitting him in whenever you tended to forgo foreplay, and that was something you fully enjoyed too. Loved the pain that came with him slowly feeding that massive cock of his into you, trying to make it fit inch by delicious inch. But that was for when you were either in a hurry of some sort and desperately needed to squeeze in a quickie, or for when he was feeling particularly mean dom-ish. You rarely got to experience Harry in that mindspace though, and even then he was never hurting you really. It was just a lot rougher and because it was such a rare treat, it was secretly your favourite.
This time, however, you’d seemingly forgotten how Harry had warned you not to get bratty. “Not in a hurry, baby. Gonna feast on this pussy for as long as I damn well please. After all, you know how much I love edging you, and you do need to be punished, hm? Brats don’t get to come. At least not until daddy says so. You’ve been warned, Y/N.”
“But daddy….” you whined pathetically, “I’ve been on edge all day, you can’t do this, not now… please!”
“Should’ve been patient, baby. Told you I’d take care of you when we got back. And I did take care of you this morning, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. Can’t have that can we?”
You kicked your legs a bit and Harry delivered a harsh slap to your bum followed by another swifter one to your pussy, making you keen and pant heavily. “Don’t test me, Y/N. You wanna come? Then be a good girl and take it. Begging doesn’t hurt either.”
You did take it, as best you could. And you did beg. You needed to come desperately but Harry kept edging you for what must’ve been at least over half an hour, although it felt like hours on end.
Then, you decided to switch tactics. Try and play on his own desires. 
“Ugh, daddy, please, please fill me up. My pussy needs it, I need to be full. Need it so much. Need your big fat cock to ram into my cervix over and over again. Need to feel you in my tummy. And my tits feel so heavy and tender, at least show them some love, daddy. Please… ovulating is making me feel crazy… My body needs you to mark it every way you can, daddy. Please…”
Harry chuckled sardonically against your pussy, making you tremble but you knew better than to get lost in the feeling and let yourself come without permission. “I know what you’re doing, sweetheart. What a desperate, filthy little thing, playing with me this way. You really must want it bad to taunt daddy like this.”
“I do, daddy, I do, I swear I do… I’d do anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it. All I want is for you to fill me up to the brim and then keep going. Cause I know you can, I’ve seen you do it… I love how you stay hard for me even after you finish, pumping your come back into me again and again and then going all night long until you have me choke on you so that you could unload down my throat this time… please, want it again daddy, I know you can… don’t you want to? Doesn’t have to be my mouth the second time around, you can come inside me again, make it catch. Knock me up. Tie me down.”
Harry groaned loudly this time around and pushed your thighs apart, hovering over you whilst his hand went directly around your neck, squeezing enough for you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. He eased up a little for you to focus your gaze back on him before he licked his lips, your juices all over his face that he’d shaved clean that very afternoon before you’d left for dinner. You loved how he did that sometimes, just as much as you loved his stubble. It was a nice switch and he looked just as handsome either way, you couldn’t make up your mind which you preferred more. However, you did feel grateful he’d shaved before edging you like this for so long, otherwise you’d have been sure to chafe a bit from all the friction his stubble would’ve inflicted.
“Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire. You know all too well I’d love nothing more than to fuck a baby into you. I already creampied you this morning, we’re on dangerous territory as it is.”
He was right. You knew he was. But in that moment, fuck it if you cared. If anything, you two had learned how to just be, live in the moment. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.
“All I know is that I want you, all of you. Forever. Whatever that means. Let’s just… be.”
Harry pressed his lips against you and kissed you thoroughly. He’d long since undressed as well, stroking himself languidly every now and then as he ate you out. He didn’t edge himself, you’re the one who needed to be punished, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to be inside of you just as much as you did. But Harry had one thing you lacked which was self control and that’s one of the things that made him such an apt dom in the bedroom.
So, it was easy to slip right inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up hungrily and squeezing him tightly, lest he pulled away. It was such a heady feeling finally being full after craving it for what felt like ages that he’d been edging you, and it only took a few minutes and his permission for you to come hard all over him, making a mess of both of you and the bedding. Luckily the villa had another bedroom you’d not used yet so you didn’t have to worry about changing the bedsheets before you went to sleep.
“That’s it, baby, fucking drench me. Fuck, you were ready to burst weren’t you? My poor darling. Daddy really did a number on you tonight. Gonna keep on coming for me, really open you up for me. How’s that sound? We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulating this poor, sopping pussy.”
You cried out real tears of pleasure as he was dirty talking all throughout your orgasm, never slowing down, no reprieve. He was hellbent on going from one extreme to the other. “Gonna open you up real good, push myself in so deep you’ll feel it for days. You wanted all night? I’ll give you all night.”
Harry didn’t let up. Had you coming on his cock over and over again, your orgasms closer and closer together the longer he went. Flipped you around on your hands and knees, then your stomach, then onto your side, and when you were ready to pass out… the sadistic bastard made you ride him. 
You did your best for a good two minutes, until he huffed mockingly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, thought you wanted to go all night long. You’re barely moving. That’s not very nice, after you begged me to give you my cock for so long.”
You got whiny and frustrated at his teasing tone and really did your best but your thighs were already shaky from all those orgasms, you simply couldn’t muster up the strength. Harry kept mocking you, sitting back, hands behind his head “no better than a pillow princess, look at you. You shouldn’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk, baby.”
“Daddy… please… I can’t…”
“I know you can’t. What, you want daddy to do all the work, hm? Nothing but a hole to come into, that’s what you wanna be? Do you think this is what all those Italian women Luciano saw me with year after year did once I brought them back with me for the night? Pfff…”
“Daddy!!!” You cried out. “You’re being cruel…”
“Am I? I haven’t even finished once and you want me to keep going after that, meanwhile you can’t even ride me properly. Silly girl… claimed you wanted me to breed you. Want to be a mother? Gotta be a woman first, learn how to satisfy your man.” He reached over and smacked your bum, which propelled you further, almost dismounting him.
However, the tears that immediately flooded your eyes took you by surprise. This was not the first time Harry had degraded you in bed. You loved it and he knew you did. It was a rare treat, just like him getting rougher with you, which he hadn’t tonight. You usually got off embarrassingly quickly to it, and you knew he’d never say anything with the intention of hurting you. 
Harry laughed sardonically but when you pulled back up whatever he’d been gearing up to say got lodged in his throat when he saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, your hands crossing and going to your throat protectively as you straightened up. He immediately pulled out and sat you on his lap, scrambling to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, baby, you know I meant none of that– you know that! We were playing. You usually love it when I degrade you a bit… I’m such a silly man. Should’ve known better than to go there.” 
He spoke softly, caressing and petting you all over, rocking the both of you back and forth and shushing you as you still hiccuped your tears against his chest. “I know… I know you didn’t mean it, but… I just… I was already wondering about them since we got here, I’ve been meaning to ask about what yo– what you used to do when you’d come down here, but I was too much of a coward. I– I got really upset just thinking about it. I know it’s silly… and it’s probably what’s been making me so needy, even before I began ovulating… I just can’t stand the thought. And knowing what… I mean– when we were apart… ughh. I just can’t stomach it, Harry. You were entitled to… You were single after all… in all of those instances… but… but, you’re mine, and…”
“I am yours. I’m yours, Y/N. I pushed it too far… I know your legs are all shaky, I made you ride me on purpose just to mess with you a bit,… but I took it too far.” Feeling you calm down ever so slightly, he pulled away and made you look at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and smudging your tears away. “No one, and I mean no one can ever dream of coming close to you. You hear me? Nobody’s made me feel better, ever. You’re all I could ever dream of, you need to know this Y/N. I’ve never been as compatible sexually with anyone the way I am with you. You think anyone else’s made me finish and then keep on going the whole damn night? Not even when I was younger, let alone now. If I’m any good it’s your own merit, you make me want to push myself and do better, be better for you, every damn time. You make me hard just glancing at you. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying it to undo the silly stuff I said earlier, none of which was true. I know how jealous you get, I love it a bit too much when you get like that… and I love mocking you and seeing you get all squirmy and embarrassed– but that’s not how I should’ve done it, I went too far. I didn’t mean any of it, please believe me Y/N. I swear it. You’re all I want. I’m the luckiest bastard. Please believe me, sweetheart.”
“I know… I know it, rationally. But it just… rubbed me the wrong way, even though we were playing and I knew better. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.”
“I do. It’s alright. Let’s forget about it, alright?”
Harry looked heartbroken. You’d not really seen him like this for a while and it pained you, so much so that you wish you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and went with it, since you sincerely did believe none of it was really true.
But you swore you’d be truthful to one another, and especially in the bedroom Harry had insisted so much on you voicing any sort of discomfort regarding anything, no matter how small. You never safe worded, hell, you didn’t have one, because you never needed to; he knew how to read your queues and you’d never had to stop anything before.
This was the first time you’d stopped sex.
Eventually, you took a shower together where Harry doted on you and handled you with utmost care and tenderness. Then took you into the other bedroom where a fresh bed awaited and held you tight into his arms. “I love you so much, Y/N. You mean everything to me. I hate that I made you cry, hate that I made you feel even for a second like what I was saying was true at all. It makes me sick to my stomach…”
“Would you… want to tell me about them? The women you met here?”
Harry sighed profusely. “Darling, there’s nothing to say. Meaningless people that I can’t even recall the name of, if I even knew them to begin with. I remember nothing about any of them. I was trying to heal after the divorce, trying to let loose a bit… tried to have a bit of fun, lord knows I needed to get out of my head. Looking back, it’s almost laughable. I really thought I’d hit rock bottom back them… little did I know, it could be so, so much worse than that. 
“But… at the time, I felt miserable. I began travelling like I told you a few years after the divorce and I quickly became enamoured with Italy specifically. I don’t know… I just love this country. The women… were a means to an end, I was never looking for anything serious, and they knew it. I wasn’t leading anyone on. Never met someone I connected with. I told you, I’d never been with anyone serious after my divorce until you. I’d never known sex could be this way til I met you. Sure, I’d discovered my more dominant side a while back, not gonna try and lie and say I’ve not had plenty of experience in that regard. But, sex is just sex, at the end of the day. Some partners were better than others, and when I was here back when I was younger I hadn’t even indulged in most of my kinks and fantasies yet. It was later on that I embraced all of that. 
“But trust me when I say, I’ve never clicked with someone sexually like this. I don’t know if it’s because I’d fallen in love with you, at least in the beginning I wasn’t looking for this to get serious, as you know. But we did click from the start, you just… you just fucking do it for me, Y/N. Our bodies just call out to one another. You’re so responsive and you always know just what to do or say to me to make me lose my fucking mind. We’ve been together for so long… or should I say- I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’d say my desire would’ve dampened with time, or that sex would start to become monotonous eventually. I don’t think it’s that way at all. I feel like it just keeps growing somehow. I never get my fill with you. Feel like a fucking teenager with a loveboner dancing around your skirt all day long. You make me feel like that, no one else. Do you believe me, Y/N? Madly in love doesn’t even cut it. I worship you.”
You were lost for words. You’d been looking into eachother’s eyes this whole time and you couldn’t explain how this man had just made you go from crying, jealous, frustrated and feeling less than, to feeling like the luckiest woman to walk the earth. “I do believe you, Harry. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. We’ve played like that before and I always took it well, in fact I love it when you get all condescending and mean and it gets me off embarrassingly quickly usually. I don’t know what it was… maybe you’re right, maybe it hit a little too close to home, but I do know you didn’t mean to. I wish I hadn’t had this reaction, but–”
“No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t try to take the blame in any way. I take full responsibility. I’m just glad you know it wasn’t true… I hope you do, hope you’re not just saying that.”
“I’m not, I swear I’m not. I do believe you. And I love you, too, and needless to say no one has ever compared to you, ever. Maybe I’m not as experienced as you… but I don’t have to be to know I’d have never found a better match than you.”
It was Harry’s turn to get teary eyed as he whispered, “you don’t know how much it means to me… that you didn’t– while we were apart; and I wish… I wish I could take it all back. Had I known I’d ever find you… or that you’d ever want anything to do to me ever again… I’d have never–”
“Shhh. It’s alright, baby. I don’t hold it against you. All of it is my fault– no, don’t interrupt me. It’s the one thing we can’t seem to agree upon. I just want it to be clear, once and for all. Us separating and all the heartache and misery we both went through was my own fault. Not yours. Not Emily’s. No one else’s but mine. I should’ve never left the way I did. That was… an inexcusable betrayal… I did it for what I considered to be the right reasons, lord knows I did it with the best intentions. Never meant to hurt you for one second. I really thought I was doing the right thing, I knew you’d never choose between us.
“So I took the decision for you. Which was a gross overstep. I crossed such a huge line, taking that decision for you, not even discussing it with you, abandoning you. I hurt both of us so much. I was so stupid. So… don’t talk to me about feeling guilty. I know what guilt feels like and it’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You did what you could to keep pushing, to give you at least a semblance of normalcy. I’d never hold it against you, I truly don’t, Harry. So please… don’t paint me into this hero for not having slept with anyone else while we were apart. It would have been torture for me had I done it. As I’m sure it was for you, and that’s why you did it, so you could punish yourself some more. Don’t think I don’t know that. I don’t pretend to understand what you went through fully… but just know I went through hell as well, at my own doing. 
“I’m not even asking for your forgiveness. I could never dream of it. I’m so incredibly happy you gave us another chance… No one else would’ve. I still don’t know how you could do it. Still don’t know what I deserved to have you back in my life. So, all of this nonsense about people you’ve fucked in the past and what they were like? That’s so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You love me, and god knows I love you, and that’s all there is to it. Nothing else matters.”
“It fucking tears me apart to hear you speak like that, Y/N. I’d go through it all again if it meant I could take away your own pain. I do forgive you, no matter how unworthy you may feel, you’re worth it to me. So worth it. Fucking love of my life. I’d go through hell and back for you. I’d have never stopped searching for you. Never. My life is barren without you. Nothing matters. Children or no children, married or not- all these things I try and contain myself about and not overwhelm you with… are just me being greedy and wanting more and more of you. I never want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m content just being here with you in my arms and looking into your beautiful eyes. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s more than enough.”
“I know, baby. You’re not pressuring me. I want to make you happy. It’s all I want. That makes me the happiest. I’ll give you everything you want. And not from some place of feeling indebted to you… to make up for all the hurt and suffering I caused. I just want to make it clear, because I know you, and I know you might suspect that of me. No. I meant what I said earlier… I’m not exactly saying we should try for a baby… but maybe we shouldn’t be avoiding it at all costs, either. Let’s see where life takes us. We can handle it, right? We’ve proven as much. Just imagining you with a baby in your arms is getting my ovaries in a knot. Maybe we should listen to what our bodies are trying to tell us.”
Harry rested on his elbow, leaning over you. “You really mean it, baby? You’d want that, truly?”
You nodded slowly and Harry grinned the biggest smile you’d seen on his gorgeous face yet. It dawned on you then and there that he’d been really holding back on how much he truly wanted this. It was enough to erase any shred of doubt from your mind. 
He proceeded to pepper your whole entire face in enthusiastic kisses, down your throat and all the way to the insides of your palms. He then pulled your back to his chest and cocooned you in the warmest embrace telling you over and over again how much he loved you and how happy you made him. 
And just when you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard him whisper in your ear, “I can’t wait to wife you up… my little love.”
Daddy issues- Masterlist
A/N: it's taken me a long time to get here ❤️ this is the truest version of my babies, good and bad, they're definitely not perfect but their love is ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and for sticking with me along this beautiful journey. i'll keep writing check-ins for them, promise! any prompts are welcomed!
P.S.: 🍭 anon, this was supposed to be your much awaited balcony scene but i got... distracted. don't worry. it's gonna happen... eventually 😅
💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌
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You're a Little Too Loud in Bed (SMUT)
AN: this was loosely inspired by this tiktok. i instantly thought of writing a fan fiction when i watched it. and before anyone comes at me with negative comments, i would NEVER write a story where a child sees their parents having sex. that's very traumatizing for so many. this is as far as i'd go in writing something like this. let me know if you enjoyed!!
This story contains: sex, use of vibrators, crying child, comfort, reassurance, fluffy ending
{ dadrry - dilf!harry - husbandrry - soft!harry - 3 kids (2 unnamed, 1 named Masie [May-zee] ) - harry age 35 }
word count- 1,709
Due to the pleasurable sex you had with Harry, you accidently moan too loud and your daughter down the hall wakes up and gets scared that something is wrong with her mummy.
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Harry was currently fucking you from behind. You're on all fours in the center of your king size bed, Harry standing on his knees as he thrusted into you. He had one hand on your hip and the other was reaching down, holding your vibrating wand to your clit to give you added pleasure as well as pleasure for him because the vibrations were hitting his balls with each thrust.
You were trying really hard to stay quiet because your kids were asleep in their rooms down the hall. But with Harry's long, thick cock pounding into your pussy and the steady vibrations attacking your clit, you were struggling with that. Even Harry was struggling to keep his moans at bay.
See, the two of you typically have two different types of sex in your sex lives. The sex that's more slow and anguished where you're all lovey dovey with each other. It can be done in the bathtub or under the covers. Basically love making. Which you'd say you do most often just because you both genuinely love feeling close to one another on levels other than physically, like emotionally.
Then there's fucking sex. Sex that isn't really love making but isn't too kinky either. You normally do positions other than missionary and add a couple toys into the mix. What you're doing now is what you'd consider more so fucking. When you make love you can normally keep quiet and allow your moans to travel into one another's mouths from sloppily making out. But with sex in doggy position with a vibrator in use, it's so much hader.
When you feel yourself getting close, you shove your head into your pillow to try and conceal the moans that you know you won't be able to hold in any longer when you climax. Harry doesn't even need to ask if you're close because he can feel you becoming wetter and your walls are starting to seize up around his shaft.
Harry leans over your back and heaves in a seductive voice, "Come on, let go for me. Let go, baby." He was struggling to hold off on his own orgasm because you just felt so good. And he wasn't twenty-five any more. He's thirty-five. Fucking you in doggy really wears him out.
"I'm, Oh God," you start to speak but are cut off when Harry begins moving the wand from side to side over your clitoris to speed up the process, "I'm coming. Holy shit!" Your back arches upwards and your hands grip the bed sheets beneath you so hard you feel as if you might just rip a hole in the fabric. Your vaginal walls squeeze Harry so tightly that he begins to come as well.
Once you start to come down from your orgasms, Harry turns the vibrating wand off and tosses it across the bed. His hips stop their thrusting and slowly he becomes soft within you. You're both breathing heavy and have a thin layer of sweat coating your naked skin. Your knees give out which leads to you laying flush to the mattress. And well, with Harry still inside of your cunt, he comes crumbling down with you.
He carefully falls on your back so he doesn't hurt you and for a minute you lay together in silence, soaking up each others comfort and love. That is until you hear a wailing cry coming from down the hallway. "Fuck," Harry grumbles, not wanting to separate from your body but knowing he has to check on his child, "I'll go see what's the matter, alright. You stay put." He really hoped whoever was crying hadn't been sick because he really doesn't want to deal with puke right now. But he would if he had to.
With a kiss to the back of your sweaty neck, Harry slips out of you and begins to shuffle off the bed and towards his dresser to find himself some briefs and shorts to put on. You turn around and get under the duvet to cover yourself up at least a little bit. After Harry is dressed enough, he flings your bedroom door open and quickly travels down the hall to where the cries are coming from.
He comes to realize they are coming from your daughter Masie's room, who's five years old. Harry opens her door and coos gently while walking towards her little bed, "Hey loves, what's the matter? Why'r you crying, baby?"
Masie looks at her father and makes grbby hands, wanting him to pick her up. She's a bit too heavy to lift like this but Harry will do anything for his children. Once she's in her daddy's arms, she cries with her little arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder, "I..... I heard mummy screaming. Is she, is she okay?"
Harry has never felt more embarrassed yet proud in his entire life as he does right now. Embarrassed that his daughter heard you screaming during sex. Well it was more so loud moaning that you tried to conceal best as possible, but to a five year old, screaming is the best word she can describe it as. And proud he can still make you scream during sex.
Rubbing a palm up and down her small back, Harry coos, "Shhh, she's perfectly fine, lovie. Mummy wasn't screaming in a bad way. It was happy screams."
As Masie's cries slowly stop, she demands softly, "Wanna see mummy, please."
"Okay, okay, but she'll come in here, alright. Here, sit on your bed and I'll bring her in here so she can tell you she's fine." Harry tells his daughter while carefully setting her back down in her bed. He would have brought her to you but he knows you're not decent at the moment, still chilling naked under the covers.
Masie mutters out a quiet, "M'kay." and waits for her mummy to come see her. Harry quickly goes back into your shared bedroom with embarrassment on his face. You look at your husband as he enters and question worriedly, "Is my baby, okay? What was wrong?"
He goes over to your dresser to pick you out some clothes and answers, "Maise heard you screaming. She thought something was wrong with you and was just worried. Now she wants you to come see her. Here, let me help you get dressed." Harry helps you slip over your t-shirt, not bothering with a bra around the house, and pair of panties and shorts.
Right before you make your way to your daughters room, Harry whispers, "Guess m'gonna have to hold your mouth shut next time."
You turn around with a cheeky glare and retort, "Hey, it's not my fault you fucked me so well. Can barely walk and my clit is still throbbing uncomfortably."
Hand in hand you enter Masie's bedroom and she's just where Harry had left her. When she sees you her bottom lip quivers and she begins to cry again, probably from relief her mummy was okay. No matter how good of a fuck you just had, your daughter's well being is your number one priority and it kills you that she was this worried about you. Thank god you have a rule in this house to always knock on your door so she didn't walk in on the act. That would have traumatized everyone.
"Hey, my darling, mummy's alright. See, I'm okay." you say in a comforting voice as you lean down to wrap her in a hug.
With her face buried in your neck, she asks, "You screamed happy screams?" You snatch you head around to give Harry who's standing in the doorway a death stare. How dare he, but also how else are you supposed to explain to a five year old that what she heard was moans from her parents being intimate. I mean it's totally normal and healthy for couples to have sex but she's way too young to know that right now.
"Yes Masie, mummy was screaming because she was really happy. You know your daddy makes mummy real happy sometimes. Just like when something is really funny and you laugh loudly, well that's kinda like what mummy done, okay."
She nods and questions, "Can I sleep with you tonight, please?" She doesn't really get to sleep in bed with you and Harry unless she's sick, but on special occasions you'll let her, or any of your kids for that matter.
Hugging her to you tightly and lifting her off the bed, you answer, "Yeah, I guess for tonight it won't hurt. Harry, go um, fresh," you try and tell him without saying it out loud, pointing at Masie's covers, "change them." you mouth the last part. Realization comes across Harry's face and he gives you a thumbs up before scurrying off to change your bed sheets.
Though you did lay a towel down during the sex, just something about your daughter sleeping in the same sheets and duvet you fucked on feels wrong. To give him a minute to change the bedding on your bed, you carry Masie into the hall bathroom and help her use the toilet before she sleeps again. Of course she's potty trained but still needs help wiping sometimes.
Five minutes later you walk back into your bedroom to see Harry just now finishing changing the bedding. He turns around and speaks, "There's my girls. Come on, get under the covers and lets give each other cuddles." Your family is very physically affectionate people. You all love hugs and cuddling one another.
You set your daughter Masie in the center of the bed and both you and Harry slip in the duvet beside her. Once Harry turns the lamp off, you both sink down under the fresh covers more and slide over until she's right in between the two of you. You each lean down and place a kiss to her tiny cheeks before settling in the warmth of each other for sleep.
Right as you and Harry start to drift off from exhaustion, you hear a small, "Love you." coming from your daughters mouth. Harry and you both reply back with, "We love you, too." and then sleep finally takes over.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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My Masterlist Masterpost
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whitemancumslut · 2 years
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PREVIEW
best friends brother x fem!reader
Tell Me What You Fantasize About (Pt. 1)
"Always knew you were such a slut."
Warning for when posted: 18+, BestFriendsBrother!Harry, Male and Fem Received; Oral, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Year Age Gap
"They're just boobs, Harry. Wanna touch 'em?"
The words roll of her tongue like it was nothing.
Harry's words got stuck in his throat. He swallowed down hard looking back up at the girl before him. With black and red plaid pajamas from her old Christmas set, her crop-thin strapped tank stopped just at the curve in her sides.
His cock twitched in his pants when his nasty thoughts about his sister's best friend kicked in. He swallowed his groan not sure if he heard the words correctly.
Yes, he grew up with Y/n but she hadn't always made him like this. Ever since she's hit the ripe age of 15/16 Harry's saw her more than just her sisters best friend. When she began to grow up, crop tops, short shorts, thin bikinis came. Her body also changed, which he’d hate to admit he loved. He found the way she grown so confident of her body over the years was very sexy. Every time he saw her it was very appealing clothing that he had dreamt of tearing off.
Whatever it was, something definitely changed. He changed too. Along the year, tattoo after tattoo, Y/n was more and more attracted. The biceps grew, his abs began to peak and actually harden. Y/n always had a thing for his best friends brother and she could tell the way Harry stared at her like he wanted to literally devour her, he felt the tension.
It was hard to ignore the burning desire to have him just one moment but she couldn’t help it. In this moment, with it just being them she definitely took advantage of the moment.
He hadn't notice he had been staring at her body since she walked in on him getting a glass of water. Harry stood there shirtless, his shorts just below his tatted waist line, his chest raising quicker than it was 10 minutes ago.
"I- uh-"
"What?" He finally spit out a word making the girl before him smile.
"Oh come on, Harry. Stop acting like you haven't been staring at me and my body since I've been here." Y/n stood in front of him trying her hardest not to be intimidated by his large figure. Trying to keep this new found confidence.
Harry was soon to realize this moment was reality and this was actually happening. "I'm not gon' stand here and lie and say I haven't been fantasizing about it either," He mumbled quietly as if he was shy.
A smirk formed on her face, "Fantasizing huh?"
"About me? Oh please, continue," She smirked pressing her palms to his bare chest. Pressing lightly to feel his hard pecs, letting her hand travel down and over his permanent butterfly inked skin. Placing her bottom between her teeth she giggled lightly when Harrys breath hitched.
"Tell me what you fantasize about?"
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specklelouis · 8 months
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larry in the morning
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CORE
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FUCKING
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BLIMEY
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madeintheniamh · 10 months
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I feel like Lottie gives me rebel teen vibes compared to Tilly...... so could we please please have a one shot of teen Lottie doing something rebellious ;)
hehehe... loved writing this one
a hairstyle for a styles
stmf one shot #19
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You weren’t that fussy with how the girls looked growing up- whilst Tilly was more similar to you in that she liked to have her hair done and wear matching socks and fancy dresses, Lottie followed much more closely to Harry. But you did have a rule, which was that you wanted the girls to keep their long hair. Both of them had inherited the typical Styles hair genes- with Tilly’s hair being long and dark blonde, and Lottie’s being a mad, curly chocolate brown lob that formed ringlets around her head. There were only a few things that Lottie didn’t like about herself- she was much more confident than her older sister- but her hair was unfortunately one of those things.
new imessage from kitty:
just chop it. you’re gunna look amazing 😉
“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself, as she took the scissors to her hair and made the first cut. “Fuck,”
It was shorter than she had intended, with the offending chunk now barely touching her collarbone, whilst the rest of her hair still rested halfway down her spine. There was no going back, she thought, as she took the rest of the thick curly lob in her hand and chopped it off at her neck, and then proceeded to stare in the mirror for a good-few-minutes, realising her mistake, her long brown hair now scattered all over the bathroom floor. She was glad you weren’t home, but she had no clue what she was going to do when you did arrive home.
The first person to see the botched haircut was Tilly, who audibly gasped.
“Oh my god,” She screamed. “Your hair,”
She ushered Lottie downstairs, still virtually screaming at this point. Harry was sat in the living room, guitar in hand, as the noise made him look up.
“Hey my best girls, whoa, wow,” He choked slightly. “What happened?”
“I think it looks better,” Lottie smiled.
“Better!” Tilly scoffed, running her hands through her sister’s hair. “It looks like a toddler’s cut your hair!”
Harry sat up slowly. “It looks good, from the front,” He laughed. “But it’s not very even, and what is your Mum going to say when she gets home?”
“Why,” Tilly moaned, as she directed Lottie towards one of the barstools in the kitchen. “Your hair was so nice,”
Harry laid one of the tea-towels out on the floor, and grabbed a pair of scissors from the cupboard, passing them to Tilly.
“You want me to use these? On hair?” Tilly gasped. “These are for cooking!”
“We don’t really have a choice,” He sighed. “Just try and make it a bit better before your Mum gets home, surely it can’t get much worse,”
Tilly’s brows furrowed in concentration as she attempted to make both sides of her sister’s hair even, with a lot of colourful sounding words escaping from her mouth in the process. Harry stayed watching the entire time, laughing every-time Tilly would forcefully grab hold of Lottie’s chin and wrench it upright.
“Stop moving, or it’s going to be even worse! And stop laughing, Daddy, it’s not funny,” she scolded, whacking Harry’s back with one of the tea towels they had laid out on the back of the chair. “This is serious,”
Twenty minutes later, Lottie’s hair looked somewhat better. Whilst it was still slightly uneven, it was pretty good considering that Tilly had never cut hair before, and in the process, Harry had called his hair stylist to come round the next day and try and make it look a little bit more presentable.
“Quick, hide!” he shouted, as he heard the front door unlock, you entering the house with a few bags full of shopping. You pretended to not have heard all three of them shuffling around in the kitchen, as Tilly attempted to shove the scissors back in the drawer. When you walked in, Harry was stood in front of Lottie, blocking her from your view, Tilly stood next to him.
“Harry,” You began to laugh, as you put one of the bags down on the worktop. “Why are you standing like that,”
“Like what?” He asked, a dimple beginning to show on one of his cheeks. “Just standing here, that’s all,”
“Tilly,” You looked over at her. “I feel like you and your Daddy are up to something, I hope you’re not playing pranks on me again, I told you to stop that,”
She smirked slightly, trying to avoid your eyes, but found Harry’s instead, and they both burst out into a roar of laughter, their movement revealing Lottie to be sat behind them.
“Your hair!” You gasped. “Harry! Did you encourage this?!”
“We were trying to fix it!” He laughed. “To be honest, it doesn’t look half bad,”
“Lottie, why didn’t you just tell me, you wanted it shorter.” You sighed.
“You wouldn’t have let me anyway!” She replied, standing up from the chair. “And Daddy says it looks good, so it’s fine,” She winked at Harry, as she lent into his arms.
“It does look good, Lottie baby,” He played with a loose strand of her now shoulder length hair with his fingers. “But you always look good no matter what, my best girl,”
________
there you have it. my full intro to rebel teen lottie. more will come soon. thank you to my bestie becca for helping me craft lottie’s personality somewhat (we have many secrets about both her and Tilly that will be revealed gradually teehee)
this forms part of my slipping through my fingers series! I have linked the masterlist for the rest of the series here. as always if you have any requests feel free to send them to my inbox and I will try my best to write them for you. love you all have a wonderful Sunday and week xxx
(my ear is still throbbing from having my helix pierced today so I’m going to bed now)
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lovecanyon · 2 years
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DAD!HARRY INSTAGRAM STORIES!
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tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @gublerscherry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @evansglrl @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry
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jarofstyles · 2 years
Note
Harry taking care of a drunk y/n <3
I love the concept… this is dilfrry taking care of a drunk Y/N
Check out our Patreon!
——
“Did y’knooooow.” A finger came out and ‘booped’ Harry on the nose. The slurred voice of his lover was something that made him smile, his arm around her waist as she had clambered up on to his lap in the booth.
“Did I know what, my darling?” Fingers arranged messy strands of loose hair from her flushed skin, a slight sheen of sweat coating his forehead and making her cheeks damp. It was a bit endearing, seeing her be so open and free in the club they were at. She had asked again for him to come with and he had the weekend off so of course he would follow his little love anywhere she asked.
“That- that you are the sweetest, prettiest, most sexiest man in the entire fuckin’ world!” She whispered the last part of the sentence, ending with giggles that made his chest hurt. She was so fucking cute, his love, her arm around his shoulders tightening as she used her free hand to grip his cheek. “And the facial hair… god, you look so fucking gooooood.” It was ended in a pout. In her drunk mind, Y/N was irritated at how sexy her boyfriend was. It was sober thoughts coming from her drunk mouth considering how much she grumbled about it being unfair that he looked as good as he did.
“Yeah? Y’like it that much?” He chuckled, feeling her finger press into his dimple with a dreamy sigh.
“Mhm. I love it. Feels good when you’re between my legs. Tickles a little. But you just look so…. Mmm… mature. Hot. Mountain man vibes. Rustic aesthetic. But… classy.” She murmured, examining her lovers face up close. His freckles and his brows…. “Hm. Gotta let me pluck your brows again, please. When we get home.”
Harry knew that was a disaster waiting to happen based on her glossy eyes and the slur in her speech, and he very much valued his eyes without being poked in them. “Hm… tomorrow morning, pet. Tonight we are going to relax when we get home. Are you ready to go? Had enough fun on the town?” He joked slightly which made her break into giggles. It wasn’t that funny but to a drunk Y/N? Harry was the best comedian there was. It did wonders for his ego.
“Yes! You’re so funny.” She pressed her lips to his cheek for a slew of kisses that made his stomach warm with love, the large hand on her back pulling her forward so they were wrapped in a hug. The other went down to pull her dress back down so no one caught a glimpse with her straddling him like this.
“Thank you. But we can go. How about… we go get you some greasy food to sober you up a little bit, hm? A drive through? And then we can go get in the shower and have a proper cuddle.” He suggested it knowing that she would love the idea. Her body hugged his tighter, a gasp leaving her throat as she pulled up to look at him with teary eyes.
One slipped down her cheek and Harry began to panic slightly at the tears, but she spoke before he could.
“Really? We can get food? Harry baby, I’ve been so hungry… it’s like you knew!” She whimpered. “My tummy…. S’screaming.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as if it was a secret for him. “We need to go. And… can I get a milkshake? Strawberry with the sprinkle whip cream?”’she sniffled, giving him the widest, most drunk moon eyes he had ever seen. Thumbing away the tear, he nodded.
“You can get extra whipped cream and a large fry, baby. Anything you’d like. But let’s go now before they close.”
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adore-laur · 5 months
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DADRRY: PART ONE
— just harry being a doting dad & husband 🍓
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——
Saturday nights haven't been this peaceful in a while. Harry and your daughter left home about an hour ago to attend a father-daughter dinner organized by a group of parents at the daycare, so you're left by your lonesome to enjoy a relaxing time without your child's newly developed and daily tantrums. She's two-and-a-half years old, meaning it's out with the newborn bliss and in with the "Terrible Twos" phase every mom has warned you about. 
She was always an easy baby; she never cried for too long or was fussy too often. There's no doubt that she's still the sweetest little thing, but some days, it can be a nightmare to deal with her. You're thankful for her otherwise reserved nature, but even then, a toddler will do anything to get what they want, and your daughter is no exception. 
Nonetheless, you and Harry handle it as a team. The both of you choose to deal with her sudden outbursts by using a calm and understanding approach. She listens most of the time. If she got one trait from her father, it's the ability to be an annoyingly good listener and hang on to every word you speak. With Harry, it's always complete eye contact, well-placed affirmations, and asking all the right questions. You suppose it's because of his job, but he claims he was just naturally born with it. 
Having been together for seven years, you and Harry have lived a beautifully intimate life on the coast of southern California, consisting of no neighbors, a secluded beach, and your little family of three. Harry works as a sous chef at a restaurant on the outskirts of town. He used to be the head chef before your daughter came into the world, but the wearisome hours he worked then would have never worked out with being a new father. He still hasn't accepted his old title back, much to your secret dismay. When he decided to demote himself, he suffered from a salary decrease and disappointed comments from co-workers. He didn't care, though. He had told you that if it meant he got more time to spend with you and the baby, he would selflessly accept the consequences. 
During your postpartum days, he promised never to have a shift that had him arriving home after five in the evening unless necessary. It was a promise to always be with you for dinner, to watch the sun dip down the horizon, and to fall asleep next to you. He sometimes comes home in a palpable mood of frustration after a hectic shift, but as soon as he walks through the door and sees his girls, it's like magic the way his visibly tense shoulders sag with relief. 
There are instances when both of you need an independent getaway, but most of the time, it's the three of you together in your domestic bubble of love. You've never known a man quite like Harry. Nothing compares to his heart or drive to be the best possible husband, dad, and son. Also, you appreciate how he's so attentive and gentle with every part of your lives and how he'd go against that gentleness if needed to fight tooth and nail for his family. You've built a life worth living with him. He's yours entirely. 
And yes, his daughter has stolen some of that love, but each night before you fall asleep, it's like he can transfer every ounce of love in his precious heart to you with a simple touch. Or a single glance topped off with the softest kiss. 
As you sit alone by the blazing fire, you realize that nights spent by yourself no longer appeal to you. You want your family next to you all the time. You want your daughter to ask a million questions, mostly incomprehensible blabbering, but it melts your heart anyway. You want to watch Harry cook dinner, always putting on his actual chef coat and reading a recipe in a terrible French accent just to make your daughter laugh. You want to watch him put a spaghetti noodle below his nose to act as a mustache, or watch him keep your daughter on his hip while letting her add an ingredient to a dish. Then, when she does, he looks at her with faux surprise and tells her she's better at his job than he is. 
Yet when your chef husband isn't home to make delicious food, you're stuck making frozen pizza. You considered having a glass of wine with it but decided not to because waking up on a Sunday morning with a pounding headache and a cranky toddler at the breakfast table is not something you want to deal with. 
With a reminiscent glint in your eyes, you finish the last slice and think about what they could be doing now. It's a little after seven, so you assume they're done eating dinner and socializing with the other dads and kids. Harry had said the restaurant was connected to a botanical garden, so they might be walking through it. Your daughter is probably exhausted. She woke up at five this morning and has been hyper all day, asking if she could go to dinner now, even if it wasn't lunchtime. 
You decide to text him and ask if he could take some pictures in the garden. Your and Harry's camera roles are filled with images of your daughter. 
I hope you guys are having fun! Please take some pics of you both at the botanical garden. Miss and love you. Get home safe. 
You shut your phone off and stare at the moonlit water, waiting for your favorite people to come home. 
—— 
Harry is waiting for the check when he gets your text message. His phone screen lights up, displaying his lock screen, a photo of him and his baby girl on a hotel bed in Italy. They're both wearing fluffy white robes and are passed out from a long day of swimming under the sun and eating a boatload of food. 
That family vacation was six months ago. It was her second birthday, so he wanted to go somewhere special. Let's just say that being a chef at a nice restaurant has its perks. He had saved a lot of money after he started working more hours. Then, one day, he secretly bought three plane tickets to the Amalfi Coast.
Harry wants to go back more than anything. He has never felt more content and full of love (and carbs) anywhere else except for Italy. He swears he gained ten pounds from that trip alone, and he blames it on his daughter, who begged for raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread every chance she got. He had wanted to go back to the gym to lose weight, but you changed his mind when you told him on the last day in Italy that you found his new body attractive. You had also whispered in his ear that his thighs were thickening, and it was making you hot in the face. 
So, naturally, he took you into the shower, had you ride his thigh, and then made you come twice in twenty minutes. 
But that's beside the point. 
Harry reads your text, smiles, and then responds: Of course, love. We'll be home soon. We're full of spaghetti and love you very much. 
It's getting late, so he settles on taking the little rascal for a stroll through the gardens before she zonks out. He untucks his black shirt from his trousers, leans back against the chair, and rubs his hands over his stomach. It was a spaghetti dinner with seemingly endless garlic bread, so they both feel the after-effects. 
Harry lets out a dramatic sigh that catches his daughter's attention. "Are you full?"
She mimics his position while nodding with a pout on her face. He laughs and starts folding his sunglasses in his shirt pocket, which he wore before it started getting dark out. He pushes their dirty dishes toward the middle of the table to make things easier for the busser. He then leaves a fifty-dollar bill as a tip. 
Reclaiming his credit card from the checkbook and putting it between his teeth, he grabs the coloring sheet the restaurant supplied and tucks it under his arm. He knows she'll want it on the fridge. 
He returns his credit card to his wallet and asks, "Ready to see the pretty flowers before we leave?" She hums a yes, and he can't help but reach across the table to pinch her cheek fondly before standing. "Let's go, sleepy girl." 
She lifts her arms in a request to be carried, and Harry picks her up with a groan. He's only thirty-one, so he really shouldn't be struggling to carry his daughter, who weighs the same as a sack of potatoes. He supposes working in a kitchen and hunching over counters all day for the past decade might have something to do with it.
He hikes her up on his hip while she snakes her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder. She'll be asleep in a matter of minutes. 
After he pushes their chairs in, he waves goodbye to the other daycare fathers before making a beeline for the commercial kitchen to bid adieu to the staff. He's friendly with some of them since he's a local chef himself, and he always tries to show his appreciation to chefs. He knows firsthand the hard work and stress of successfully running a restaurant behind the scenes.
Harry pushes the door open using his elbow and quickly catches the gaze of the head chef, whom he has talked to a few times at past culinary conventions and events. He takes his free hand and covers his daughter's exposed ear since it's noisy in the kitchen, with metal clanging and orders being shouted.
"Hi," he says, smiling politely at the head chef. "We're heading home, so I just wanted to give my thanks. The food and service was excellent." 
"Harry, it was good seeing you!" he replies cheerfully, reaching under a stainless steel countertop. "Stop by again soon. We love having your family here." 
"Will do, man. I'll bring my missus next time." 
Harry plans date nights every other week, usually finding restaurants he's never visited in the So-Cal region. You've told him he gets endearingly talkative when explaining certain establishments' different cuisines and recipes. The restaurant he's at tonight has always been a favorite because he's taken you there a handful of times when the both of you were still in the early stages of dating. He even worked there as an assistant chef for two years. 
On the third date he took you on, if he remembers correctly, he may or may not have convinced his boss at the time to let him take you back to the kitchen so he could show you how to make chocolate-covered strawberries. You'd told him you had made them before, and he blushed while mentally facepalming himself; he thought he was being clever. That didn't stop him, though, because he ended up pulling something out of thin air. Turn up his charm, so to speak, by saying that his version of the classic recipe was extra special. 
Well, he had lied. 
They were just any old regular chocolate-covered strawberries, but he pushed up his sleeves (metaphorically and literally) and used fancy chef jargon to try to impress you. It worked… at least he thought so. Later, you admitted that you were actually just ogling his biceps every time he dipped the fruit into the melted chocolate. 
Once the strawberries were finished, Harry wrapped them up nicely and drove you home from the date. He fed you one before you got out of his beat-up Subaru, the only thing he could afford as a broke assistant chef. He will never forget you walking to your front door, half the strawberry still in hand, and then seeing you suddenly turn around to return to his window to feed him the last half. He had taken it in his mouth, chewing after taking a strangely erotic bite. He smirked at you and glanced down at your lips, which were stained a glistening red from the tart juices. 
"You're something else," he'd said sincerely, his voice a raspy from work. 
"And you just scored another date with me."
From that moment on, he was gone for you. 
After shaking hands with the other chefs, Harry leaves the restaurant and walks to his Bentley. He rationally decides to skip out on the botanical garden tonight because he wants her to be fully awake to see the blossoming flowers. 
He unlocks the back door and gently straps her in, tucking her favorite blankie under her chin as she sleepily blinks at him. His heart melts into a puddle. "Let's go home to mumma, okay?" he murmurs, brushing her wispy hair back with a delicate sweep of his fingers. "I had such a fun time with you tonight." 
She yawns as ferociously as a toddler physically can, then lunges her arms forward for a hug. Harry hugs her the best he can with her being in the car seat. He inhales her apple-scented shampoo while pressing kisses to the side of her head and then pulls away, poking her button nose with his thumb. 
"Love you this big," he says, spreading his arms as wide as possible. 
She giggles and copies his gesture. "Love big too," she replies brokenly with her sweet voice. 
Harry puckers his lips and kisses the air before sliding into the driver's seat. He takes out his phone to send you a quick update: She's in a spaghetti coma, so we're coming home now. We can go to the garden as a family next weekend. 
Pressing send, he smoothly pulls out of the parking lot and drives along the coastal highway with slightly cracked windows. He listens to his daughter's soft snores and thinks of you the entire way home with a dreamy smile.
—— 
You're still sitting by the fire, its flames dying with flickering embers, when you hear the garage door grinding open. You grin, immediately feeling warmer now that they're back home.
You had briefly gone inside to get a juice pouch for your daughter just in case she came back awake. You also spontaneously decided to make chocolate-covered strawberries since you felt sentimental while reminiscing about the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Harry. 
The sound of footsteps sifting through the sand makes you turn your head. You find your husband with a sleeping angel clung to his side, his shirt untucked, and no shoes or socks on; he probably didn't want sand in his loafers. The shadow of scruff on his face is more noticeable, and the orange light from the campfire dances off his features. He looks at you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he carefully treads through the beachgrass to reach you.
"I've got a delivery," he whispers, sitting next to you on the blanket you spread out. "She's unconscious and full of spaghetti, so I don't think she'll be useful to you." 
You laugh quietly and stare at your baby sleeping peacefully. Your knuckles stroke her round cheeks as you ask, "How was it?"
"Good. I ate my weight in pasta and bread, but it was worth it. We had fun." 
You sling your arm around his waist and pat his stomach. "I'm glad you guys spent some time together." 
He hums thoughtfully, unbuttoning his trousers to release the strain. "I need to start watching what I eat and cut down on the carbs. Otherwise, I'll look like Santa in five years." 
He says it like he's joking, but you know he's been insecure about his weight since you were pregnant. He naturally put on sympathy weight during the nine months you carried the baby, and then afterward, it simply reached a point where he never had time to work out, whether being too busy working or spending his free time with you and the baby. He ate healthily, but some nights, he caved and ate carbs like there was no tomorrow. Plus, he's a chef, so you can't necessarily blame him for enjoying food.
When you met him seven years ago, he was twenty-four and had skinny legs and a slim torso. But if one thing hasn't changed about his body, it's his strong arms. They've held you through several situations — hugging you whenever you needed a companion, feeling the natural warmth radiating from him. Or holding your baby girl for the first time, his black tattoos beautifully contrasting the precious pink blanket that swaddled her. He could easily cradle her in one arm, fitting perfectly in the crook of his elbow like she belonged there. She still does. 
Or, arguably, your favorite, which is when he holds your body up, your back pressed against his chest as he fucks you like no one else can. His bicep across your collarbones with his hand gripping your shoulder like he's physically claiming you, and his other hand gripping your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach…
You're getting carried away. 
The point is that his body is lovely. He still has abs from being generally fit and strong thighs that can chase after your daughter during playtime. His back muscles are masterfully sculpted from the physical exertion that goes into being a chef. His flawless face, too, but that goes without saying.
"I love your body," you say, wanting him to feel good about himself. "No matter the changes it's gone through. I adore all of your soft parts." 
He looks at you, trying to hold back a smirk. Of course, his mind immediately went to a dirty place. 
"I'm being serious. You're allowed to have insecurities. Remember when you felt bad eating all those carbs in Italy? What did I tell you?" 
Harry gazes at the ocean tide. "I was thinking about that at dinner tonight. When I saw my lock screen, I thought about that trip." He sighs and adds, "I don't know why I'm insecure when you're the only one I try to impress." 
You stare at him with nothing but adoration swimming in your eyes. "Are you feeling these insecurities because of the dinner? With all the dads there?"
He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "Why are you so fuckin' smart? I swear you're too good for me," he says with a breathtaking smile.
"I just want you to talk through these things," you explain, touching his neck. "I know how miserable it can be to keep those thoughts bottled up until the bottle breaks." 
Your thumb strokes along his jaw as you continue, "You're thirty-one. It's never too late to realize those insecurities and either come to peace with them or work on them. You know I'll always help you with whatever you decide." 
Harry exhales through his nose and settles his forehead on your shoulder. "Never stop talking to me," he says sincerely, kissing your skin tenderly.
You pinch his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. He moves his head to gently nip the pad of your thumb before kissing it. "I love you." 
"I know it," he whispers. "I just compare myself to rich, douchebag dads that own literal corporations and would probably ask me to be their personal chef in their ridiculous mansions if they knew what I did for a living." 
You offer him a sympathetic smile. He shouldn't look down on his career. It pays well, but it's nothing compared to the So-Cal dads who own Lamborghinis and have a million different job titles. 
"Harry, don't make me use my mom voice." "you say in a scolding tone. 
He grins delightedly. "I don't mind." 
"I've been with you for seven years. I was your girlfriend, married you, and pushed out a baby because I wanted a family with you. Your job doesn't matter to me in the way you're thinking. I love that you're a chef. When you first told me, I told my friends how hot I thought it was. I still find it hot." 
He's full-on blushing now. You continue, "You come home and are in such a good mood most days. Do you know why? Because you love what you do. You love the people, the food you make, and the environment, which matters most. Not money or how many cars you own. Without hesitation, you made the difficult decision to step down from being in charge so we could start a family together. You have no idea how much that meant to me. Now you have a daughter who watches you cook her favorite meals and loves you insanely. That's what you should be proud of. And that's what all those other dads should be jealous of." 
Harry's gaze flicks between your eyes before he kisses you with so much passion you feel dizzy. You kiss him back, and he inhales like he's breathing you in. Your daughter is still asleep, so you pull away before it escalates. 
He finishes with a big kiss on your cheek, then rests his cheek against yours. "I love you so much," he whispers into your ear for only you to hear. "I'm pretty sure you just gave me a love boner." 
You laugh, feeling his dimple form against your cheek. He leans back to look at you and shakes his head. "No joke," he says with infectious laughter crawling up his throat. "You just made me hard by telling me how much you love me." 
You roll your eyes playfully before standing and stretching your back. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get her to bed." 
Harry stands and hikes up your daughter a little. With a frown, he glimpses down at his pants when he realizes they're still unbuttoned. He obviously can't button them with one arm preoccupied with sleeping beauty, so you help him. You lift his shirt an inch to kiss his soft stomach first, then rest your chin on it and look up at him with a smile. After admiring his handsome face for a moment, you button his pants.
Your daughter is carefully passed from his arms to yours for a brief cuddle session before she has to be tucked into bed. Harry throws an arm around your shoulders and guides you inside the house. His steps falter when he retrieves a coloring sheet and gives it to you. It's a simple one that restaurants provide, and this particular one has a scene of two bunnies frolicking in the grass. It is what it is for a toddler with no concept of artistry, and you smile proudly when you take it from him. You'll hang it on the fridge with her other scribbled creations. 
Harry opens the porch door and lets you inside first before locking it. He turns on the lamp in the living room. Then, as if reading your mind, he grabs tape from the junk drawer and attaches the drawing to the fridge. While he tidies the kitchen, you head in the opposite direction toward her bedroom.
After a few minutes, you see Harry in your peripheral vision and pat the floor in invitation. He kneels beside you, his knees cracking. He dramatically lets out a fake cry of pain, and you silently laugh while flicking his chest. He opens his mouth in offense, acting as if you just insulted him, to which you just shake your head and gesture zipping his mouth shut. He slyly smacks your ass, and you give him a warning glare before standing and kissing your daughter goodnight. 
Before you leave the room, you get revenge by tickling Harry's sides from behind and then quickly running out of the room. You know how much he hates being tickled, but you were feeling the mutual playfulness that always trickles around bedtime. You reach the bedroom, hearing his heavy footsteps down the hallway. He pokes his head past the doorway to the master bedroom. You look at him with wide eyes and sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his next move. 
Harry saunters through the doorway, looking around and nonchalantly whistling a tune with his arms behind his back. He walks to the connected master bathroom, your eyes trained on him the entire time. He turns around to close the sliding door just enough so that you still have a partial view of him.
"What?" he asks innocently, catching your eyes in the bathroom mirror. He's messing with you. And making you sweat.
"What are you doing?" you retort, crossing your legs partly to act unaffected and to ease the ache between your legs. 
He casually leans against the door jamb. "Let's see... someone left me with quite a problem, so I thought I'd take care of it before bedtime like the gentleman I am," he says smugly, maintaining a stellar poker face. 
"What do you suppose I do while I wait?" you reply, confident enough to play his game. 
He deeply hums while standing straight and removing his trousers. With his thighs on display, you admire the tattoos there — a tiger on one and your name on the other. "I suppose you could get some sleep. Perhaps read. Whatever you'd like, darling, I'm not picky." He now stands in black boxers and a loose T-shirt. So cocky. 
"And what will you be doing if I decide to sleep or read?" you challenge, sliding up on the bed to lean against the headboard. 
Harry lets a smirk take over his face as he says, "What would you like me to do, honey?" 
"I'd like you to not be in there alone." 
"Will you be a good girl while I take care of the little problem you gave me?" 
"Of course, baby. You know I always am." 
One side of his mouth tugs up as he slowly nods, seemingly agreeing with you. "Always so good," he whispers just loud enough to hear. He inhales deeply before turning around frustratingly slowly, finally pulling his shirt and boxers off. He's tan from the daily sunshine, and his back muscles flex with each subtle movement. Your mouth quickly goes dry. 
He disappears to turn the shower on but leaves the door open, which you know is an invitation. You had already changed into your silk pajama shorts and a tank top while he was in the kitchen, so you shut your bedroom door before entering the bathroom. 
Oh. 
The sight has your breath hitching. Harry's silhouette is behind the steamed see-through shower door. One hand on the wall, the other... well, he didn't even wait for you. He already started. You hear his quiet groans being stifled by his mouth buried in his arm, causing hot and bothered tingles to prickle your skin. 
You don't think he sees you yet, so you take your pajamas off and quietly close the bathroom door. For some reason, you suddenly remember you have chocolate-covered strawberries in the fridge. You leave him to his fun and quickly grab a towel to wrap around you before walking to the kitchen. You open the refrigerator, grab two strawberries, and then shuffle back into the bathroom. As you drop the towel, you realize he's still going. You didn't think you got him worked up that much just by talking about how good of a person he is. Each to their own. 
After hastily eating one of the strawberries, you gently knock on the glass. Harry stops abruptly and rests his face on his arm. He slightly cracks open the door to see and hear you. It takes everything in you to not look down. 
"Hi," you say quietly. "I'm here." 
He's breathing heavily, water dripping down his slick body. Wet strands of hair fall over his forehead as his eyes bore into yours. "You are, aren't you?"
You subtly glance down at the problem you gave him; it's throbbing and needs assistance. You're sure he will disapprove of you interrupting his session with a dessert offering. 
With your eyes focused on the floor, you absentmindedly draw a heart in the steam evaporating on the glass shower door and say, "I made dessert when you guys were gone." When spoken out loud, your sentimental baking idea seems stupid. "I almost forgot about them and then remembered they were in the fridge, so I brought you one. I was reminiscing about when we started dating and thought about the strawberries. Anyway..."
You're rambling too much. He was pleasing himself, and here you come, waltzing in with dessert while stumbling over words like you just met him. You need to get it together. 
Harry is still looking at you with his chest heaving, his left arm taut, and his large hand pressed against the shower wall while his other hand still grips his cock. His piercing eyes have become darker, and they peer down at your hand holding the strawberry. The chocolate at the tip is gradually melting. His eyes travel even further down to your bare legs, then to the heart you drew. His lips twitch. 
When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue presses into his cheek before he straightens his posture. He steps toward the crack in the door and leans slanted against the shower wall, his naked body shamelessly in full view. 
You wait for him to interact with the Strawberry of Nostalgia, but he just looks at you smugly. Jutting your hand further, you indicate that he should take it again. It feels like he's secretly judging you. He's barely said anything, and now he's gazing at you like he wants to eat you for dessert. 
"The chocolate might melt off since it's pretty steamy in here," you mention with a nervous and breathy giggle. 
Harry regards the strawberry again before moving his head toward you. "Yeah?" he says with a wicked smirk. 
"Yeah," you reply, refusing to look into his eyes. "They haven't been in the fridge for very long." 
He laughs huskily, then clears his throat. "Well, I'm waiting right here, darling. I'm not a huge fan of melted and mushy chocolate-covered strawberries." 
So… he wants you to feed it to him. Like you did all those years ago when you first realized you were so gone for him. Good lord.
The steam in the bathroom is not helping your feverish body temperature. You take a few deep breaths before touching Harry's swollen lips, which you assume he's been biting on to suppress his noises. He maintains intense eye contact with you as he slightly opens his mouth. You guide the strawberry into it, and he bares his teeth while sensually biting the fleshy fruit. 
Once half of it is in his mouth, he tilts his head and chews slowly. He groans, his eyes rolling back. "So fuckin' good." 
You eat the other half to move the tension along, then throw the leafy stem on the ground. On trembling legs, you step away and admire the water droplets on Harry's lips that turn pink from the juices. 
His thumb and pointer finger wipe the creases near his mouth. He then reaches through the door's crack and brushes his slick thumb across yours before sucking on it. In desperate need of relief, you clench your thighs and shakily exhale. 
"I'll be good," you plead, utilizing your angel eyes to get him to give in. "I won't touch you, but please let me watch." 
Harry tuts. "Are you sure you'll just watch? Or are you going to be a brat like you were with that little stunt you pulled earlier?" 
It's no surprise he's still hung up on the tickling. His ego can't take what he dishes out. God forbid he teases you because you know his precious pride will be crushed as soon as you do it back.
You bite your tongue and promise yourself to be good for him. "I'm sorry for doing that. I didn't mean to be a brat. I swear I'll behave this time." 
He beckons you by curling his fingers inward. "Come here, then."
You slide open the door further until you can squeeze through, then shut it tightly before standing across from him. The shower is spacious with a built-in bench the both of you have done your fair share of indecent activities on. 
"Hey," Harry says lowly. "Be my good girl and sit. No talking or touching, okay? Watch me until I finish."
Nodding, you obediently sit on the bench and cross your legs to relieve the subtle pressure growing between them. You glance at Harry with innocent eyes that you know will weaken him. He gives in for a split second when he leans down and places his hands on either side of your thighs, nudging his nose against your cheek before kissing it roughly. You try not to smile at his momentary infirmity. 
"Stay put, or I'll walk out of here and go straight to bed," he warns, resuming his position you walked in on, except this time he's right in front of you. His palm on the shower wall closest to you with his other gripping his cock. 
This is going to be torture. 
——
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Harry's All Natural Sleep Aid 👅🐱 /blurb/ (SMUT)
AN: i know i have like 5 promised things that are suppose to be coming out but i couldn't get this concept off my mind and had to write it out. so i hope you don't mind and enjoy. it feels like forever since i've wrote and it feels good getting back into it.
This story contains: insomnia, female receiving oral sex in a living room
{ dadrry - husbandrry - softrry - current harry era - three kids (unnamed and unaged) }
word count- 1,124
Harry performs his all natural sleep aid to help you get sleepy after a bout of your insomnia.
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Around three in the morning you woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. So instead of tossing and turning and potentially waking up your husband Harry, you decided to go down stairs and have yourself a cup of tea while watching old Friends reruns.
Not even twenty minutes of you relaxing on the couch do you hear the heavy pattering of feet coming down the stairs. Instantly you know it's Harry and not one your children because Harry has always had a heavy walk. He makes his way to the couch with a grumpy expression and crossed arms. "Where'd you go?"
Giggling at your man child who can't go thirty minutes without you attached to his hip, especially while sleeping because Harry is a massive cuddler, you reply, "Couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you."
Now the grumpy expression turns to more of a sympathetic one. Harry knows you have trouble sleeping sometimes and he always feels bad because once he's asleep, he can stay asleep unless one of the following three things happen:
You get out of bed and he no longer has his cuddle partner, he gets a boner that just won't go down, or you or one of his three kids call out for him. Whether that's because one of y'all are sick, scared, or just need him in general.
"M'sorry, love." Harry coos softly, now beside you on the couch, leaning his head on your shoulder. "I could help you get sleepy again if you'd let me." He knows the easiest and most effective way for you to become sleepy. It works every time and it's all natural because he knows how you feel about taking sleep medicines, you dislike them.
Leaning your head into your husbands that's snuggled into your shoulder, you ask, "Oh yeah, how?" Before he responds verbally, Harry slides off the couch and onto the living room floor.
He gets situated on his knees in front of you and replies seriously, "Make you come, with m'mouth."
"Harry," you gasp at his naughty words. It's not that you're not use to him being so direct but it's usually done in the bedroom. Not in the living room where your kids could wake up and come down freely. There's no door with a lock down here. "What about the kids? They could come down here."
"What," Harry bites back, "you know damn well every time I give you an orgasm you get sleepy afterwards. It's just a fact. So pleaseee, can I eat your pussy? I'll be quick and then we can go back to cuddle in bed. And the kids are asleep. I just checked in on them before coming down here. Just gotta stay quiet s'all."
Knowing how right your husband is, you shake your head into a nod, then consenting with a verbal, "Okay, but you better hurry and get me off."
"Yes, ma'am!" Wasting no time, Harry pulls the blanket off your lap and pulls down your pajama shorts and cotton panties. He slides your bum to the edge of the couch cushion and leans forward, placing a delicate kiss directly on your little clit.
Just the soft touch of his lips to your most sensitive area has you nearly jumping out your seated position. "Oh, fuck!" you gasp out. Harry looks up with a pleased grin on his face but knowing that what he's about to do is going to be so much better than a clit kiss.
Leaning in more, Harry takes his tongue and begins to properly eat you out. He flicks his warm tongue up and down, side to side, on your clitoris, stimulating you quite nicely. His large hands are wrapped around your thighs that's laying over his bare shoulders. You have to grab one of the decorative pillows you keep on the sofa to press over your face so your heavy breaths and moans stay at bay.
Harry alternates between licking and sucking on your clit. He even pokes his tongue in your hole just to tease you. When you feel the knot in your stomach began to tighten and your legs begin to shake, you quietly warn out, "Babe, I'm gonna come. Shit, feels so fuckin' good."
He works harder in concentrating on getting you to your end. You glance down and grin through your pleasure at the sight of your husband on his knees, eyes closed shut, in the middle of the living room, eating you out in the middle of the night, with Friends still playing on the large tv in front of you. What more could you ask for.
Right as your orgasm courses through you, you reach down and grab a handful of Harry's messy curls, pushing him impossibly closer to your cunt. His face is dripping in your juices and you're sure you're leaving a wet patch on the couch beneath you. Biting your tongue, you let an internal moan go through you while breathing heavy through your nose.
When Harry can feel you pushing his mouth away due to sensitivity, he slowly backs away from your pussy. You look down again while trying to control your breathing and see just how glossy his lips and chin are. The sight alone nearly makes you want to go for a round two. But all the sudden your eyes get a wave of tiredness in them and you start to feel the effects Harry mentioned earlier.
Speaking in a gentle manner, Harry says, "Okay, time for bed. Hand me a tissue from beside you so I can clean us up. Then I'll carry you to bed, baby. Know your legs probably feel all wobbly, don't they."
Not having the energy to speak, you nod your head and grab the tissue from the tissue box you keep by the couch for him to clean you and his face up with. After wiping his mouth off, he carefully and attentively wipes up the mess between your legs. Then Harry helps pull your underwear and shorts back on you before standing up on cracking knees.
At least the living room is carpeted but still, Harry's joints aren't in the shape they were when he was twenty. Sitting on his knees for more then five minutes make them quite sore. But he choose to ignore the pain because he's just that selfless.
After standing up, Harry switches the tv off and then scoops you up bridal style in his arms to carry you back to bed. But before making it to the staircase, you lean forward with your arms around his neck, puckering your lips asking for a kiss and of course Harry leans in to meet your lips as well. The kiss is soft and gentle and shows just how sleepy you both are now. "Love you." you whisper against his mouth.
Replying back softly, Harry mutters, "I love you too."
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
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My Masterlist Masterpost
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harrysonlylover · 1 year
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Mechanic H (cat daddy)
(I suck at editing)
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gurugirl · 1 year
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Omg wait I just thought of Anna and Harry from don’t stand so close spoiling their baby for their first Christmas and Harry dresses up as Santa when he puts their presents out even though they’re too young to remember and is all cute and adorable as an experienced dad
-🍊
Thank you anon!! My first request to bring back DSSC Harry and Anna :) I hope you enjoy!!! 2.3k words
A Christmas one shot 🎁🎄🕯️
Warning: Smut & FLUFFFF
Don't Stand So Close Masterlist
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Waking to my alarm was unusual. Normally Harry and I would be woken up by a little bouncy bean called James shouting and rambling words in his own made-up language.
I sit up and stretch my arms overhead, yawning. Harry’s not in the bed so my assumption is that he’s got James. Harry and I were up late the night before. James didn’t want to fall asleep. He’s been so excited with all the decorations and presents and lights. But when he finally did, Harry wanted to take advantage of us both being awake at the same time with James asleep. Many nights, one of us will conk out before the other. Whoever is dealing with James being put to bed will usually be the last to sleep.
So we both enjoyed an orgasm before passing out immediately upon Harry rolling off of me. I didn’t even have the energy to clean myself up.
Having a baby is exhausting but delightful.
James’ first Christmas he was too tiny to understand what was going on. But this one he is aware and knows something is exciting. Harry and I have done everything we could to make it magical.
I put my slippers onto my feet and walk into the living area to see Harry and James on the floor near the Christmas tree. Harry lifts his head and looks at me when he becomes aware of me, “Hey baby. Merry Christmas. Come look.”
I walk up behind James and kneel down to see what’s going on. James' chubby hands are holding a wrapped present. The wrapping paper is partly torn and wetted from James gumming and chewing at it. I sit down on my bottom and kiss the top of James' head and then pull at the front collar of Harry’s sweater to bring his mouth to mine. I slip him the quickest bit of tongue and he sputters a laugh when I let go of his collar. I laugh.
“What’s going on James? What have you got sweet boy?” I rub James' back gently and he makes his usual goo-laugh noise and squints his eyes in a joyful smile.
“He picked out that present to open first. I told him he had to wait for mom and he’s been so good.”
Harry and I watch James open up the gift. I honestly don’t even remember which gift this is as he’s working to get the paper off. But James doesn’t quite understand the concept of removing the paper to reveal the gift so Harry and I tear at little bits to help him. Eventually, the gift is on display and James screams in excitement, Harry groans and turns his head, and takes a deep breath. Lately, James has begun screaming at the top of his lungs anytime anything is a little exciting. He thinks it's funny but Harry and I have been trying to get him to not scream. It’s only gotten a bit more frequent, though. Especially during the Christmas holiday with the pretty Christmas tree and the twinkle lights.
I cover his mouth and kiss the top of his head. This only makes James laugh into my palm, his eyes closed in satisfaction at the reaction he drew from us, “James… please baby. That’s too loud,” I speak quietly. Harry squeezes my thigh and shakes his head in defeat.
The gift James opened is a set of play salt and pepper shakers. James has a little kitchen play set that my dad got him for his first birthday and it’s his favorite thing ever. He gets to pretend to be grandpa cooking at the restaurant. Though, I doubt he quite understands it all.
Harry removes the packaging from the toy and hands it to James. He grabs onto my arm to pull himself up, his nails pinching my skin as he does so, and he runs off into his bedroom to play with his kitchen set. I rub my arm and look down at it, “I should trim his nails,” I speak and look up at Harry.
Harry leans down to take my arm in his hand and kisses the spot, “There you go, Mommy.”
I laugh and take Harry’s hand into mine, bringing it up to my lips to kiss, “So sweet, Daddy. Thank you.”
Harry and I just sit for a moment while it’s quiet smiling at one another. It’s astonishing to me how James looks exactly like his father. I’ve seen many pictures of Harry from when he was James’ age and they’re identical. Light curly hair, big green eyes, dimples, a booming voice when excited, and James even has big feet and big hands already for a little guy. His head, hands, and feet are massive, even the doctor agrees.
It’s Christmas morning and today is going to be a busy one. My parents are coming over and they plan to stay the whole evening so we’ve set up the spare room for them. The spare room is actually James’ room now, but we kept the Queen sized bed in there for guests. James' crib bumps up to the foot of the bed.
Tomorrow my parents are taking James to Santa Land. Santa Land is like a little Christmas shop with Christmas trees and toys and decorations everywhere. There will be a man dressed as Santa and some elves and maybe some hot chocolate. We wanted them to wait to take him until after Christmas because hopefully there would be fewer people there. James is wild and active and cheeky. He’s a handful and Santa Land will only have him screaming, crying, running around like a banshee and begging for everything he sees, and then more screaming to top it off when he doesn’t get what he wants. So, for my parent’s sake, I’m hoping it’s not terribly busy.
Harry gets up and holds a finger out, “Forgot!”
I watch him disappear into the kitchen and come back a minute later with two steaming mugs. He sits back down next to me and hands me the hot coffee, “Mmmm… Thank you, my love. Merry Christmas,” I lean into him and kiss his jaw.
“Hope you enjoy it. It’s all you’re getting from me this year,” Harry chuckles at himself and sips his coffee.
I roll my eyes and take a sip. I honestly wouldn’t care if he hadn’t gotten me a single thing. I feel lucky and happy to have Harry in my life. James and Harry are my favorite things in the whole world and I just don’t feel like I need much else.
But, I know he’s gotten me several gifts because they’re under the tree wrapped up with a tag that tells me.
We tag team with James, showering, eating, and picking up all of James’ toys again (that we’d already put away but somehow James had managed to pull out every single toy he owns and scattered them over every inch of the house), washing dishes, and then James is down. He ran full speed, screeches and laughter, toys being tossed at the couch, and suddenly, he laid down and closed his eyes, and began to snooze.
Harry takes James to his crib and closes the door. James will sleep for a solid hour and a half. He’s a deep sleeper so as busy and wild as he is, I have been thankful for his consistent sleep and nap schedule.
I give Harry a hug and kiss his sweater-covered chest and look up at him, “My parents won’t be here for another two hours,” I smile slyly.
Harry puts his hands into my hair and dips down to kiss my forehead, “Is that so? What shall we do with all this free time, my love?”
Normally on a weekday when James goes down for a nap, Harry has already begun work and I’m writing an essay or doing a class assignment. I don’t know what possessed me to go for my Masters while having a one-year-old, but I did, and it’s not easy. But today, Harry and I have no work and no school, and a quiet house.
Harry takes my face into his palms and kisses my lips. Wrapping my arms around his neck I stand to my tippy toes and push myself up to him before he’s dragging me to the couch and climbing over me.
Harry lowers himself between my legs and pulls my leggings down to reveal that I’m not wearing panties. He hums and looks up at me and dives right in. It’s been a couple of weeks since Harry has eaten me out. He always tries for it, he did the night before even, but we’re usually so tired I encourage him to just fuck me so we can go to sleep. Sleep has surpassed sex as vital lately. As much as we both like sex, we’ve grown even more fond of sleep.
But that’s not to say we don’t have sex regularly. We get it on more than most parents, I think. I’ve talked to other moms and hearing about how they shun sex or aren’t in the mood or go without for weeks at a time is totally understandable. But with Harry and I, we’ve found ways to have sex as often as possible. Which isn’t as often as before James, but I’m very well taken care of, as Harry is.
The longest we’ve gone without sex was right after James was born. We waited for five weeks. The doctor said four to six. At four weeks I was ready to jump on his stick but Harry insisted we take one more week just to be safe. It was the quickest round of sex we’d ever had. Harry nutted so fast and I came quickly once he ate me out and then we passed out until James woke us up.
But now, we had some time to kill and Harry’s mouth on my pussy was feeling delicious.
It felt a bit like old times with Harry keeping his eyes on me as he licked up and down. He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together as he lapped away, his free hand holding my thigh down.
Harry still knows exactly what I need and the moment he slurped at my clit was when I couldn’t stop my moans, “Yes! Oh god…”
Harry smiled into my cunt and squeezed my hand as he brought me to orgasm.
I was also back on birth control for the time being. We talked about maybe having another baby but we needed some more time with just us and James before bringing in another little one. Harry’s age, though, is a bit of a concern as well. Technically he can produce sperm and get me pregnant until I’m too old to conceive but sperm production is much less at his age in general. It’s crazy to me how men can stay fertile (even if slightly less fertile) until old age. I had no idea until we had this discussion with our doctor. So, we decided we’d wait a bit. No rush and if we never have another baby that’s okay too.
I sat up and pushed Harry’s face away from my sensitive pussy, “Let me suck you off big guy,” I smiled at him and Harry rolled onto his back, putting his hands behind his head, stuffing a couch pillow under his neck so he could watch.
Harry’s cock is something I’ve gotten used to over the years. Big and long. Taking him down my throat is not as difficult as it was when we first started dating. Now I’m a pro. I still choke and gag, but I’m used to it. And I like it. But I only like it because it’s Harry and he’s worth it.
Harry’s whimpers and moans are my favorite sound. I love making him a mess and the way he looks at me when I’ve got my mouth wrapped around him just makes my heart sing. I don’t think I’ll ever hate giving him a blowjob.
“Baby… please… wanna be inside of you now,” Harry pushes himself up and I bring my mouth off of him.
Harry’s big cock feels so nice inside of me. It’s not long before he’s pounding away into me, my leg dangling off the couch, the wood frame creaking. I’m on my back and Harry’s railing me when he moves my legs to wrap around his waist.
“I’m gonna come, baby… I’m trying to hold it back but I’m so close,” Harry moans as he begins to quiver. I know he’s about to come because not only are his thighs shaking, but his cock is also twitching inside of me. I reach down to press my fingers over my clit and nod at Harry, “Come inside of me, Daddy.”
Harry closes his eyes and groans, his hips smacking into me and I gasp at how hard he’s pressing into me.
Harry starts to come and I feel it. His mouth drops open and he’s silent except for his panting. I speed up my fingers and feel the lightest little zip to my organs and I come with him. It’s not super intense but the orgasm is a sweet little release to top off the first one I had.
He collapses over me and kisses my face, “I love you so much. Such a good wife and a good mommy. Amazing…” Harry speaks his words against my cheeks and my neck where he’s kissing me all over. I laugh and tighten my legs around him and kiss him back.
I turn my head to check the clock and it’s only been twenty minutes since James went down for a nap. Harry lifts his head to look at me and then with a big grin he smiles down at me, “You know what that means?”
I nod as Harry rolls off of me and we both get up to go to our bed, pulling the blankets up over our naked bodies and fall asleep together for a yummy Christmas morning nap.
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whitemancumslut · 1 year
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Midnights (H.S)
part one of two
huge mommy kink, scroll if you don’t like. smut, minors i do not rec (MDNI), somnophilia ig, handjob, spitting, titty sucking, mentions of cumming on tits, during NYC Residency (Two Nights Between Night 5 and 6), do not expect accuracy on the actual tour dates!
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Overall, Harry was very submissive.
But there would be moments he’d fall into his subspace under certain circumstances. One is if he was without you for so long. When he feels jealous that someone is getting more attention from you, many things could trigger such a vulnerable state for Harry. But right now it’s because this is your first night together since he’s been touring. You’ve been filming in L.A for months and weren’t able to make it to many shows unless it was through social media. You had just arrived in New York missing out on Night 5 of the residency, arriving just a day after.
He’s now hitting his 6th night in NYC and you couldn’t be more proud of him and happy that you get to experience the rest of the shows.
Harry just had a very enticing dream, making his friend make an appearance for the third time in the past 24 hours. When he woke up without being spooned, he whined feeling so cold. Your tight embrace on his waist was no longer there.
"Mommy," He grumbled lowly, palming the hard-on in his shorts. Groaning instantly when he applies the smallest bit of pressure on himself.
He wiggled his way out of the duvet and pouted when he realized you had been so far away from him.
The cool air in the bedroom made the hairs on his bare body stand up. Reaching over, Harry turned on his end table light, just by the push of the button.
He flicked his head over in your direction and there you laid, breathing so gracefully. You looked so pretty. Laying on your back, you’re bra-less with a tank top you threw on after the late night shower. The black and white PINK shorts you were wrapping around your curves so perfectly. Your left arm laid out beside you as you had recently rolled out from the spooning position.
Harry scooted his way over to you, fully shoving the duvet off his body.
The sheets scrunching up the closet he got to your slumped body. Harry laid his palm upon your stomach. Feeling your even breaths, he scratched lightly at your bare skin. "Mommy," He repeated.
You didn’t budge. He rested his body down next to you, pressing a wet kiss on your neck.
His cock twitched against your thigh and he moaned.
You weren’t a deep sleeper, nor were you jet lagged… Well, maybe a little.
Harry’s hand that rested on your stomach led its way up under your tank top. Looking down at the skin that came into view. Speeding up his actions, Harry pulled your shirt up revealing your perky tit.
His tongue twirled around your hardened bud, and is soon placed between his lips. Harry moaned when he began to suck on your nipple and start bucking his hips against you and his clothed cock was bumping against your thigh. "Fuck, Mommy," He whined into your breast. Your eyes flutter open, instantly letting your hand meet the back of his head. Your fingers hugging his tight curls.
"Baby?"
Harry let a soft gasp escape his mouth and instantly disconnected his lips from your nipple. When he heard your angelic voice in his ear, his eyes glistened. "Mommy," He said quietly. "It hurts," He mumbled.
He’s looking up at you, his big doe eyes making it seem as if he was pleading. He hissed to the feeling. The words immediately waking you up. "What hurts, angel? Speak to me," Your voice so gentle it sends butterflies to his tummy.
He doesn’t give you a verbal answer, though you know what it is. He takes your nipple back in his mouth.
Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, he began guiding your hand to his hard. Letting you palm his erection, you let your fingers apply pressure. "Oh, okay. Baby, sit up for a second. Want me to take care of you, hmm? Want Mommy to take care of you?"
He slips your moistened bud out of his mouth, with a soft whimper. "Yes, please." He answered sweetly, sitting up.
Letting you sit up against the head board, "Take your shorts and underwear off for me, Lovie."
He does as you say, taking off those short shorts that you could’ve sworn never showed his bum so much. You watched, admiring the way his large length escapes the barricade of his briefs and slaps against his tummy. The precum leaving a mark just by his belly button.
You called him over doing a ‘come here’ motion with your fingers, inviting him onto your lap.
He submissively crawled into your lap. Harry’s tatted thigh being covered by your hand caressing his thigh as he slid on your lap. He placed his hands on your shoulders.
You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you slowly moved your hand up to his cock. The thick vein was prominent as you took your thumb and traced it gently. He inhaled deeply when he made eye contact with you.
"Mommy please," He tucked his face into your neck. You tilted your neck so he’d be force to remove his face from it and look at you.
You looked down at his hip bones tense as he began grinding his hips, eager for you began. He looked so pretty, all fucked out before anything even happened.
You took his cock in your hand, wrapping your fingers around it as best as you can. His breath hitched when it finally gained warmth. "G-god." With the same hand, your reached up with your thumb smearing his precum that continued to leak. Running of his slit, his tip pink. He shivers to your touch letting his breath fan your face. Squeezing him gently watching him releasing little by little.
"Want to spit for me, angel?"
His hazy eyes come down to look at himself and his cock that had been in your hand. He prepares the saliva before gathering a good amount enough to let it spill out his mouth and hit directly on his shaft.
"Such a good boy," You praised quietly. His stomach turned at the praise and his toes curled. Resting your free hand on his bare back sliding it down to the side of his hips. Caressing him, soothing his body as he was high up.
He moaned when you began stoking him up and down. "F-fuck," His weight on your shoulders got heavy as he got lost in the moment. "Feel good, angel? What does it feel like? Talk to me and…" You pinched his chin with your free hand making him meet your eyes. "Lemme see your pretty face, eh? How does it feel?"
He pants lightly, his chest rising a bit faster than before, and his eyes fighting the urge to roll back, "Really, really fucking good, Mommy. So fucking good," He slurred out as you continued to stroke him. The hand that rested on his hips, now squeezing his bum making him muffle a low moan, "Mommy, more, more."
You nodded understanding his satisfaction with your touch. Grinning at the man that was totally gone, you looked down at his body. His thigh muscles tight. His tiger looking so sexy from your view as well as the rest of his body. Looking up at his tatted chest, his nipples hard and collarbones becoming more noticeable when he arched his back.
His lips so pretty and pink looking so plumped and swollen. No idea why it was just so hard not to kiss him. "C’mere," You told him wanting to taste him so bad.
He squinted, unable to get over the satisfaction he was getting from your hand. You used your other hand to cup his jaw, initiating a kiss. Harry leans in, out of breath, one curl resting on his forehead, pressing his lips against yours.
Thinking it’d be a quick peck, he pulls away. But you catch him again, pressing your tongue into his mouth as you stroked him faster and harder. He broke the kiss, his lips wrapped around your tongue before he detached his mouth from yours. His mouth forcing itself into an ‘O’ shape. His brows furrowed, mouth agape, moans pitched, so fucking hot.
"Oh my, Mommy. Fuck, yes. Please, I’m so-" He fucks your hand so gentle scared he’ll be crossing a line by trying to get himself in on your work. "F-feel so, so very good. Bloody fuck," He cried out applying pressure on your shoulders. Bucking his hips up, fucking your hand, so close to his climax. The room filling with his tiny gasp and moans.
Knowing he’s close, you jerk him teasingly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Slowing your hand pumping down, and leading up to his tip pressing with your fingers before continue stroking. "O-oh!" He twitched in your hand and his thighs began to shake gently on top of yours. Continuing to kiss around his face as he continued moving his head back and forth and side to side with his haziness. He was high up.
"So, so close," He alarmed you. "Want to cum on Mommy, angel? Know how you love it. What do you want? Wanna cum on Mommy’s tits?"
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specklelouis · 11 days
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