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#harry styles story
gurugirl · 2 days
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 4
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Summary: You and Harry are both missing each other and despite Tyler's sudden interest in talking to you, Harry's determined to finish what you both started.
A/N: This is the final part! I have more blurbs and extras up on Patreon if you'd like to see more of them! xoxo
Word Count: 10k+
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Part 4 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including anal sex), daddy kink, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics, uncomfortable confrontation, fluff!
ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist
. . .
Harry didn’t want to push. He knew that you two were treading a delicate line. You were so much younger than he was and you were his son’s ex-girlfriend. This wasn’t an easy thing to navigate emotionally. He was having fun, but he hadn’t anticipated you suddenly feeling whatever it was you were.
He thought maybe he’d done something wrong at first. He thought maybe he moved the scene along too quickly because he had been eager to get to the good part. He couldn’t wait to press his cock into your other hole. You wanted it so bad and he really wanted it too.
But of course, he wanted it. He was a man who loved the female form. A man who enjoyed sex. Kinky sex. A man who adored anal sex as long as the receiver adored it just as much. So maybe that’s what it was. Perhaps he rushed you along too quickly.
So if you needed space to think about what had happened, he’d give it to you. But what he wouldn’t do was pretend nothing had ever happened between you. That would be too easy. To have a fun little thing with a beautiful younger woman and then suddenly back up and cool off and then – poof – strangers.
He could let you ghost him. He could move on and chalk up the time you spent together as just a little fun fling. No one would ever need to know. That would certainly be tidier. And he’d be able to maintain the relationship with his son as it was before you’d come along. It could just be a fun little secret that he looked back on fondly as he moved on with his life.
He could do that. But he wasn’t going to do that.
Why? Because somewhere along the way he accidentally started to let his big, heavy emotions come alive with you. It was an accident. But he couldn’t help it. Harry’d always been a lover. Someone who enjoyed sex, sure… but he was also someone who enjoyed the relationship that went with sex just as much.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had easy flings before; One-night stands and no strings attached relationships. But that wasn’t always possible with him. It wasn’t possible to feel nothing with you. It was quite the opposite.
He started imagining your smile and the way you made him laugh while he was doing mundane things like laundry or typing up an email at work. He began to imagine you waking up in his bed every morning with your croaky little voice and sleep lines on your face smelling like warm sheets and that unique scent that was just… you. He would be in the middle of watching something on television and feel the need to text you so you could turn it on and watch it too because he knew you’d love it.
So yeah. He started to really like you. As more than he should. It stung him a little to know you needed space to figure out whatever it was that went wrong. But he wasn’t going to stay away forever. He’d let you process but he had things he needed you to know and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t at least tell you what those things were. You’d probably reject it all. You’d probably tell him that wasn’t what this was at all. You’d probably end it right then and there and that would be okay. If you didn’t feel the way he did that would be fair enough, Harry figured. But he wasn’t going to let things fade away and fizzle out. He was going to make you hear him out and if you didn’t like it then he’d step back and respect your wishes.
“Think I’m gonna call Y/n,” Tyler spoke as he walked into the kitchen behind Harry.
He turned to look at his son with confusion, “Why?”
He shrugged, “I feel like breaking up was a mistake. She probably regrets it too. I’ve been thinking a lot and I feel like I kind of just threw away everything because I was too scared to try stuff with her. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like her again. I was talking to Jay about it and he told me I was an idiot for letting her go like that. He said that a lot of girls don’t even really enjoy sex that much and if I had to pick between someone that’s into all kinds of weird things and someone that’s not into anything…” Tyler sat down at the kitchen table as he looked at Harry, “… that I might be better off with someone like Y/n. Because she loved sex. That’s for sure.”
Harry sighed and shook his head as he looked out the window over his sink. His son was still so stuck on the wrong reasons for your breakup. You didn’t just break up with him because you were sexually incompatible. You broke up with him because he was kind of a dick to you. Jealous all the time, manipulative. But of course, Tyler didn’t know his dad knew some of those details. You had told those things to Harry.
“She was a great girl, Ty. Do you think that’ll be enough for her to see you again?” Harry swallowed. He hated this. Hated that his son still had feelings for you. Hated that he missed you so bad and it’d only been two days. Hated that you hadn’t called or texted.
“I hope so. I miss her, ya know? Tried seeing this one girl a couple of weeks ago but there was just no comparison. Kept thinking of the way Y/n did certain things a lot better. I still love her too. I have to at least give it a shot.”
“You seemed so upset by her when she broke up with you. Kind of surprised by this a little.”
He really didn’t want Tyler calling you and mucking things up. It was selfish of Harry to think the way he was but if Tyler was still in love with you and tried reaching out that could be it for Harry. That would just complicate things further. But what could he do really?
“I was mad at first but I think the time apart helped me a little. And maybe her too. Maybe she’s missed me just as much, ya know? And she’ll want to compromise a little? Like we were together for 2 years. Almost two years. It would have been two years tomorrow actually so I was thinking about just giving it a shot. I’ll see if she wants to meet up tomorrow or something.” Tyler looked at Harry, “Should I get her flowers? Maybe make some grand gesture to show her how I feel about her? Jewelry even?”
Harry sat down at the table, his brows stitched together as he swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat., “Don’t buy her jewelry. What if she’s not interested in anything anymore? Don’t make any rash decisions, Ty. Okay? Just…” he sighed as he was about to give his son actual advice, against his better judgment, “Take it slow with her. Call her and see if she wants to meet up first. Flowers could be nice if she does. But don’t expect anything. Don’t push her.”
“Okay. So flowers might be good. Yeah. Okay,” he stood up from the table and pulled his phone out, “Would a text work? Or should I call? I should call shouldn’t I?”
Harry watched his son pace in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. Tyler was looking for advice from the wrong person but Harry wasn’t going to tell him that.
He couldn’t stop Tyler from reaching out to you and he couldn’t stop you from agreeing to meet up with him if that’s what you chose. But that didn’t mean Harry wouldn’t do something rash. Something he might regret in the long run. But sometimes those heavy and deep feelings you get for someone can make you do crazy things.
. . .
You were shocked to see the text from Tyler. And a missed call with a voicemail. You’d been busy with work all day so when you were finally seated in your car and the quiet of the day could sink in you hadn’t expected to see anything from him. He hadn’t been on your mind at all.
Please call me back. I’d like to talk about how things ended. I miss you.
You sighed and put your phone down into your cup holder. Tyler was not the man you wanted to hear from. Not anymore. Now all you could think about was Harry. It’d only been a couple of days since you’d seen him. You figured if you could hold out seeing or hearing from Harry for a little longer, your feelings would start to evaporate and then you could move on. You didn’t want to get your heart broken by your ex’s dad. And you were sure that’s where things were headed with you two.
You imagined scenarios where you told Harry how you were developing feelings for him and it would go one of two ways.
The first more likely scenario had Harry gently letting you down. Telling you that you were amazing (because he was so sweet like that) and that you had your whole life ahead of you but that you were too young and deserved to be with someone you could share your life with in a healthy way. That he never intended for feelings to get involved. Plus he would remind you that you dated his son and he couldn’t very well get into some kind of serious thing with you. Ever.
The second very unlikely scenario had Harry admitting his own feelings to you and telling you that you two could make it work despite the age gap and despite the fact that you dated his son for almost two years. He would hold you close and tell you all those sweet things you wanted to hear and he’d make love to you after, full of promises and he’d tell you not to worry about Tyler.
So to see that you’d gotten a text from his son and not him was disheartening. You were absolutely no longer interested in Tyler. In no way was there any love left for him. His father, however? You were dipping your toes into those messy feelings of attachment that started to ebb on the L word. You weren’t ready to face that thought quite yet though.
You decided to listen to his voicemail. Mostly so you could just clear the notice from your phone and get it over with.
“Y/n, hey, it’s Ty. I’m sure you’re busy with whatever right now but I just needed to call you and tell you a few things. I miss you a lot. I realize that I kind of fucked up. I think we can still work things out if you want to try and compromise on a few things. Ya know? And… Oh! Guess what tomorrow is? It would be our two-year anniversary. I don’t know if you even care or not but I still do. I was hoping to meet up with you. Just so we could we could talk. No pressure. But I think we owe it to ourselves to just give it one more shot or at least hear me out in person. Call me back, please. I miss you, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back into the seat of your car. You didn’t want to see Tyler at all. You thought it was interesting that he assumed there was anything left to salvage after the way you broke up with him. And you’d forgotten about the 2-year mark. Harry had basically taken over your thoughts. You wondered what Tyler would think about you then. You laughed to yourself at the idea of you telling Tyler the kinds of things his dad had done to you. Surely then he’d despise you and move on.
But you’d never tell him those things because Harry wouldn’t like that. And you never wanted to do anything to disappoint Harry in any way.
On your drive home, as you felt the stress of your day begin to fade you wondered if it would be a good idea to see Tyler. Perhaps you could just meet him somewhere public, let him talk, and then set the record straight once and for all. You had zero intentions of getting back with him. That was just no longer an option. Not after Harry. Not after anything actually.
And when you heard your phone ping with a text you groaned. God was he persistent. You just needed some time to think first.
You didn’t owe him anything. You could just ignore it and move on but you were one of those people who felt like others deserved to be heard out whether they deserved it or not. You had dated the guy for almost two years after all. And maybe the smallest part of you hoped he’d tell Harry he was meeting with you. You weren’t sure why you hoped he’d tell his dad. You didn’t know what that would achieve. Just the notion of contact even if indirect perhaps.
But when you pulled your phone out of your cup holder you were surprised to see that the new text wasn’t from Tyler. It was from Harry.
H: I know you’re just getting off work right now. Hope you’re okay and that this isn’t overstepping but I miss you and would like to see you so we can talk. There’s a lot I need to tell you. Whenever you’re free.
Your heart leaped and your breaths grew shallow as you read his words twice more. You hadn’t expected him to reach out to you. It felt like such odd timing but you quickly text him back as you sat in the parking lot at your apartment.
You: Hi. I’m okay and you’re not overstepping at all. I was thinking of texting you soon. What are you doing tomorrow night?
You felt shaky as you stepped out of your car and made your way up to your front door, all the while checking your phone to watch the screen and see that he was typing a response. You were giddy. Beyond excited.
H: No plans tomorrow night. What’s on deck?
You let out a puff of breath as you entered your apartment with a cheesy grin.
You: I’m going to Bet’s Bar with a few friends at 8. Just super casual. But maybe you can meet me there and we can get away to talk a bit? I’d like to see you too.
This was one of those nights out that you’d been dreading. Your friend invited you with two of her friends who you didn’t know all that well. So it was already going to be awkward. But if you had the opportunity to scoot off somewhere and cozy up at the little table with Harry that could make the night so much better. Especially if you could leave with him after.
H: Yes. Okay. I can meet you there. Would you like me to come at 8 or do you want to spend time with your friends first?
You typed your response quickly.
You: Come at 8 if you want. I’ll tell my friends you’re going to be there too. They won’t care if we get a different table to talk.
Your heart was pounding in your chest. But that’s how it always was when you made plans with Harry. But this time felt different.
H: Great. I’ll see you at 8. I’m looking forward to seeing you.
You grinned and peeked into the kitchen to see your roommate cooking something.
“Hi Goose! What are you making? Smells good.” You leaned over the pot she was stirring.
“Marinara. For pasta. Thought we could stuff our faces on starch tonight if you want.”
“Oh that sounds fabulous,” you grinned at her and looked down at your cell phone. “I’m gonna go changed and then I’ll be right here to help you eat this,” you laughed as you walked to your room.
Somehow texting with Harry and knowing you were going to see him tomorrow made you feel more confident in calling Tyler back. You needed to get it over with.
The phone rang twice before he answered, “Y/n! Hi! How are you?”
“I’m good. Got your message and figured it would be nice to talk. Like you said.” He already sounded too keyed up which meant he had false confidence and probably thought this meant more than it really did.
“Where are you? Can I meet you somewhere?” Yup. You called it.
You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance as you shook your head, “Not today, Ty. I just got off work and–“
“Okay. Tomorrow then?”
God was he pushy. And he was crazy for thinking you’d spend a moment of your precious Saturday with him.
“I’m busy tomorrow. Uh… how about lunch on Monday? I can take an hour and we can grab a bite somewhere.”
“Monday? Well, what about Sunday? I feel like I deserve more than an hour, Y/n.”
You laughed, “I don’t agree. Monday at lunch is doable for me. Sunday I’ll probably be nursing a hangover. I’m going out with friends tomorrow night and I won’t be in the headspace to talk to you on Sunday.”
“What friends?” He sounded exasperated.
You rolled your eyes, “Does Monday work or not?”
You could hear him mumbling something. Probably about how rude you were or inconsiderate because he always thought he was owed more than he actually was.
“Sure. Monday lunch. So like, 12? Where should we meet?”
“Yeah. 12 works. You choose the spot. Okay?”
“Okay. Y/n, look… I feel like you and I can start thinking about what we can do to make this work–“
“Tyler, I just got off work. Can we talk about this on Monday?” You hated cutting him off. Even though he was an ass it made you feel bad for being so short with him.
A heavy sigh came through the receiver, “Fine. I’ll see you Monday.”
You tossed your phone to the bed and changed into comfy sweats before joining Goose in the kitchen.
“Was it loverboy?” Goose teased as she sat the wooden spoon down and looked at you.
“Loverboy?”
“The man that’s been coming over. I have no idea what he looks like or what his name is,” she laughed, “But I know you call him Daddy.”
Your eyes widened and you balked a laugh, “Oh my god. You heard that?” You put your hands over your eyes and groaned, “I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care. You’re usually pretty quiet but sometimes I can hear things. I’ve definitely heard you call him Daddy, though.”
You couldn’t believe that your roommate had heard you. You realized that sometimes you could tend to make more noise than you meant to because you couldn’t help it with the way Harry fucked you or played with you.
“Still. So inappropriate. We try to be quiet. But… we’re sort of taking a break right now.”
“Really? I’m sorry. Sometimes a break is good, though, yeah? Plus you just got out of that relationship with Tyler. Which, good for you by the way. I never liked that guy.”
You laughed and pulled down a couple of pasta bowls, “Yeah… Tyler was good at first but it got to be too much for me to deal with.”
You and Goose (her real name was Oris) sat and ate pasta and chatted about your love lives. It felt good to talk about what was going on, even if you didn’t give her all the sordid details about Harry, just talking about it helped give you a different perspective on things. A good venting session was exactly what you needed. It was time to be honest with Harry. If you didn’t do something or tell Harry what you felt you’d most definitely lose him. And tomorrow you’d get that chance to come clean to him. At least it would be you being honest and true to yourself. And Harry deserved your honesty at the very least.
. . .
You kind of went overboard. Dressing yourself in your favorite dress that showed off your assets, shoes that flattered your feet and ankles, a little gold necklace with a heart charm, your special going-out perfume, and makeup just so… Everything looked good. You were smooth and moisturized, smelled great, and to be honest you felt great too. You were hopeful. The more you read over the texts from Harry the more confident you were that he’d be going back to your room that night. Or maybe you’d go to his. Didn’t matter to you. As long as the night ended with Harry wrapping his arms around you and telling you he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. That was really all you wanted out of this.
H: Really excited to see you tonight, baby. I hope you know that.
That text from Harry before you were about to leave had you jumping up and down in your bedroom with a hot face and a pounding heart. And he called you baby? You were ridiculous but who could blame you? It also had you feeling a bit extra cheeky suddenly so you added one more little accessory to round it all off. You weren’t sure Harry would encounter the little thing but you sure hoped he would.
Bet’s Bar was one of those spots that was kind of classy based on the décor and the drink menu but the reality was that the place was more of a dive under the façade. The tables and floors were usually sticky, the drinks were watered down, the music that crackled over the old speakers was loud so you had to shout to be heard, and they had crappy bar food that you imagined was bought frozen and then heated up in some cheap toaster oven that had one side heating up more than the other before being served as “gourmet”.
“Oh shit, Y/n! You look hot!” Your friend spotted you as you walked into the bar. You were looking all around for Harry but didn’t see him yet.
“Thanks,” you grinned shyly; Acting as if it were by complete accident that you were perfectly put together.
“Let’s get a photo before we all get wasted. We’ll do a before and after,” she laughed as she stood in the middle with her phone out, you on one side and her two friends on the other.
Everyone took turns looking at the picture to make sure it was worth of being posted on Instagram before she posted it.
Your first drink was a seltzer with lime. You did not want to get drunk. If you and Harry were going to talk you needed to be clear-headed. He also had a rule which was established when you first started seeing him, that if you had too much to drink, sex was off the table. So, a drink or two at most for you. You were more interested in where the conversation would go with Harry than getting drunk anyway.
“So where’s this guy?” One of the girls asked.
You tapped your cellphone to see that it was 8:15, “He should be here soon.”
Though you were a little nervous that he wasn’t right on time. You hoped everything was going to go as you imagined. But of course, when did that ever happen in life?
And at 8:30, just as you were tempted to text him to see if he was okay, you saw him walking in through the front doors, looking like sex on legs. The man was just stunning. Dark curls swept up, a button-up shirt not buttoned all the way so you could glimpse the sparrows and top of his pecs with that light scattering of masculine hair, his white gold necklace with the cross dangling between to remind you of what you were missing. The shirt was tucked into dark trousers that accentuated his thighs and glutes and of course, the unmistakable natural bulge he sported at the front.
You gulped as you waved at him to get his attention. You couldn’t hide the pleased grin on your face or the relief you suddenly felt at his arrival.
Turning on your stool to face him he sauntered up to you with deep dimples scored into his cheeks next to his gorgeous smile and he leaned down to hug you, his cologne making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Missed you, baby.” He whispered against your ear before standing up and taking you in with his starlit green eyes. You gently grasped onto his fingertips looking up at him, “Missed you too.”
You both kept your gazes pinned for a minute until your friend broke the moment, “No wonder you dressed like you’re going for a model shoot,” her cackle had you rolling your eyes but you turned to smile at her.
“This is Harry,” you gestured at him and then pointed at each girl, “And Harry this is Seleh, Quinn, and Lirica.”
The girls all waved and grinned before you hopped off your stool and grabbed your seltzer telling them you’d be back in a bit and that you and Harry needed to talk privately.
He followed you to a small high-top table with two stools at the edge of the room and pointed at your drink, “What are you drinking?”
You looked down at your glass and back up to Harry who hadn’t yet sat down, “Oh it’s just a seltzer. I didn’t want to have too much. Haven’t had a real drink yet.”
Harry’s pink lips curved up into a smile as he nodded, “Okay. Well, I think I’m gonna go up and order a beer. Would you like me to get you something?”
You pursed your lips in thought. You didn’t want to have anything that would get you drunk fast, “A beer for me too. Maybe like a Guinness?”
“I’ll be right back.”
You could tell right away that Harry was there because he really did want to see you. He seemed excited too, which gave you more hope than was probably a good thing. It was always a bad idea to get your hopes up but it was hard to not imagine this night going very well already.
Harry walked back to your little table and sat your Guinness down in front of you and moved his stool next to yours, “Okay if I sit a little closer?”
You nodded, “Of course it’s okay.”
Harry settled himself on his stool and his knee brushed into yours, “I know I said I’d be here at 8 but thought I’d give you at least a little time with your friends before I came in and took you away.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re here.”
Harry watched you take a sip of your beer and took a gulp of his own, “So, how have you been? I know it’s only been a few days but felt more like a few weeks if I’m honest.”
Your eyes softened as you shook your head, “I guess I’m… well I missed you. I felt like I needed to think about how I was feeling about everything but I have clarity now and…” you laughed, “I agree. It felt more like a few weeks than just a few days. Too long to not see you.”
Harry’s gaze wandered over your face, “It was too long. Didn’t like it at all. You wanna talk to me about what happened?”
A sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your pint glass, “I’m worried that if I tell you then you’re not gonna like it and that’ll be it. No more of this,” you looked at him as you gestured with your finger between yourself and Harry.
“Okay. So you had a few days to think about whatever it was and you said now you have clarity. Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Well, that sounds like a positive thing overall. Do you want to tell me what that thing is? I’d really like to know.”
The music was obnoxious and it was hard for your brain to keep your thoughts in a straight line, or perhaps it was from the way Harry was looking at you. He always observed you in this way that had you heating up and wanting to crawl inside of his heart and stay for eternity.
“I started to have feelings for you that you probably don’t return. I was worried I was getting too attached.”
Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on yours but you noticed his shoulders relax a touch. As if he might have anticipated you telling him something different. “I see. Why would you think I wouldn’t also start getting attached?”
“I don’t know. I mean… I guess I can’t read your mind so–“ You shrugged your shoulders.
“Exactly. You would have no way of knowing unless we talked. And now we’re talking. So this is good.”
You smiled and felt Harry’s thigh nudge into yours and you could tell he did it on purpose when his grin stretched wider over his face.
“See, when you told me to leave that night, I thought I’d done something wrong. Thought I moved things along with you too fast. So it wasn’t that at all?”
Your eyes widened at that realization and you shook your head, “Oh god, no. No, absolutely not. It was me being overly emotional and feeling things that I wasn’t sure were good or not. I didn’t, and still don’t know, whether or not we’re just kind of having some fun or if there could be, you know, more?”
Harry raised his brows at you and took your hand in his, “More?”
You looked down at where his thumb was tracing over your knuckles, “Yeah.”
It was silent for a moment. You didn’t know if you’d totally turned him off by that idea or not. But you knew it had to be said. It had to be out there because you’d drive yourself mad if you didn’t say something. And the longer it was silent the more you felt that awkward embarrassing heat cover your thighs and boil in your tummy.
Until you looked up at him and his expression was kind and gentle and you knew you had nothing to be embarrassed about with him.
“So you’re saying that you don’t want this to just be casual anymore. You want something a little deeper because you’re developing feelings?”
You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Baby,” Harry’s deep voice came out like silk as he moved his free hand up to cup your face, “That makes me so happy to hear. I didn’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable but I tried to show you how I was feeling. I thought it was too much for you and that’s why you wanted me out. That I was coming on too strong.”
Shaking your head you pressed yourself into his palm at your cheek, “No. I thought I was just making things up in my head. That the way you were with me, the way you looked at me and everything… that I was crazy to think it meant more than what we were doing.”
His smile softened as he cocked his head, “And what is it that we were doing?”
You laughed, “Well it started out as just having some fun I guess…”
He nodded, “Yeah. But then what happened? Hmm?” He ran a thumb over your jaw, “We started to get to know one another. Things got more intimate between us. Isn’t that right?”
You felt so relieved that you were having this conversation with him in this way. That he was touching you and looking at you in that way you loved, “Yeah, that’s right. I was worried it was one-sided, though. Didn’t want to assume you felt it too.”
Harry tutted at you, “Should have talked to me. You’d have learned I wanted more as well. But now you know. Now we both know it wasn’t one-sided.”
You nodded as your smile widened, “Now we both know.”
You let a sigh out through your nose as you turned yourself into him and felt your heart thudding in your chest. Harry leaned in, pushing his nose into yours, “I want you, Y/n. I want to be with you,” he spoke against your lips before he dotted a gentle kiss to your mouth.
Your hands found his shoulders, “I want you too. I only want you, Harry.”
Those final words spoken were like a breaker switch that illuminated the space around you and lit up streets and parks miles away. His lips began to move with meaning as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue against the split of your lips and you parted for him, lapping your own tongue against his.
You were breathless and dizzy and overjoyed. Harry felt the same way and all you had to do was tell him that night. You’d wasted so much time in turmoil over false thoughts. Ideas you’d made up in your head about him. But this was real. He was here and he was yours.
But the moment came to an abrupt end when Harry’s body was jolted, his warmth removed from you and you heard an umph! fall from his lungs when his stool scraped on the floor.
You gasped when you saw Tyler with rage in his eyes as he stood with Harry’s collar grasped in his hands, “What the fuck is this? I came here to surprise you Y/n. Saw you tagged in an Instagram post and was gonna make some romantic gesture, but looks like my old man beat me to it.” He looked between you and Harry as he spoke.
Harry was standing up in front of Tyler and you quickly scrambled off your stool to help. You weren’t sure what you were going to do to help but you’d think of something.
“Tyler stop!” You spoke loudly and as forcefully as you could muster.
“What do you mean stop? You and my dad are making out in public when you knew I wanted to see you,” he turned to look at his dad, “You know how I still feel about her. You knew we spoke on the phone yesterday!”
“Calm down, Ty. We’re not doing this here,” Harry warned. He kept his arms to his sides not wanting to hurt his son. Not yet anyway.
“Oh come on! This can’t be for real,” Tyler let go of Harry’s shirt and gestured at you and his dad.
“It is real. This happened. I’m sorry but it did, and I don’t regret it,” you watched Harry as he said it. The admission of what had been going on behind Tyler’s back, all out in the open for everyone to see now.
Tyler looked at you in confusion as he shook his head, “Tell me you haven’t been fucking my dad.”
You shrugged and pursed your lips together as you looked back up at Harry again. He stepped back from Tyler, tucking you in to his side protectively, “I’m sorry you found out this way. It was only a matter of time.”
“Only a matter of time,” he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, and then pointed at you, “Is this the chick you’ve been fucking? I’ve been overhearing you two in your bedroom, and it’s been her all along?”
You closed your eyes and looked down. That was embarrassing. You figured he might have overhead a thing or two but now that he knew who it was… And to be fair, you’d only slept over at Harry’s a few times simply because you didn’t want Tyler hearing it or recognizing your voice.
“Tyler, you need to go. You’re making a scene and you’re embarrassing yourself,” Harry spoke.
“Yeah. I’m embarrassing myself?” he balked sarcastically, “You’re here with my girlfriend under your arm acting like you know her better than I do–“
“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Ty. Go home.”
A woman walked by the table and looked at the three of you as she passed, breaking the strange tension and making Tyler’s stance loosen as he took a step back, “This is insane. You two,” he pointed at you and Harry, “Have you fucking lost your minds? I’m done.” He looked at you, “You and I are done, Y/n.”
“That’s exactly right,” Harry said calmly, “Now you need to go, Tyler.”
“Fuck you, Y/n. You’re trash, you know that? There’s no way he can give you what I did,” he spat.
“Stop! Enough!” Harry’s voice raised at Tyler’s insult of you.
You were used to insults from him but it didn’t stop your face was boiling and feeling that anger and frustration that you used to feel so often with him as it started to crawl up your spinal column and spread over your shoulder blades.
“Is it enough, dad!? You’re fucking the girl I’m in love with. What kind of father are you? Garbage, both of you,” Tyler stepped in closer but Harry tightened his grip around you and angled you away from Tyler’s reach.
“If you get any closer to her I’ll have you flat on the floor in under two seconds. Back the fuck off and get out of here! We’ll talk about this later.”
You’d never heard Harry’s voice so full of fury. The furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes would have been scary if they were aimed at you.
“You know what? Fine. This was a waste of my time.” He looked at you and pointed, “You were a waste of my time. Two-fucking years and this is how you repay me? I regret everything that happened between us. I’m out of here.”
Tyler turned and walked away, his middle finger shining under the dim overhead lights of the bar until he made his way out of the door.
Harry pulled you in front of him as he looked down at you, “Are you okay, Y/n?”
You nodded up at him, “I’m fine. I can’t believe that just happened.”
Harry shook his head, “I should have figured he might do this. I’m sorry, baby.”
You could have purred at the baby. It was like Harry could erase all the stress and anger and turmoil you’d felt at once. His green eyes and soothing voice had you feeling comforted.
“Let’s go. I wanna leave,” you spoke as you smoothed your palms up his cotton shirt, “Will you come home with me?”
Harry nodded and took your wrists in his hands before kissing your lips softly in answer.
You left your unfinished beers and told your friends you were leaving. There were two guys at their table already and none seemed too upset that you were ditching them. Which you figured would be the case anyway.
It felt like you had seltzer in your veins as you climbed into Harry’s car with him. He kept his hand over your bare thigh as drove the short distance to your apartment.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked you with a quick glance before training his eyes safely back on the road.
“I’m fine, Harry. You make me feel really safe.”
You watched as his dimples appeared from the big smile he had on his face. Biting your lip, you thought about him finding your secret other accessory. It was hard not to think about it every time you sat down. And the bucket seats in his car had you sitting in a way that you were pressing into it and it was already doing things to your brain and your body.
The moment you entered your apartment and closed the door behind you his lips were on yours again. His big hands pulled you into his body, squeezing at your bum as you slid your arms over his shoulders and moaned. But he was moaning too.
Three days. It had only been three days and this was the result. But maybe it wasn’t just that it had been three days without him. Because you’d gone longer between seeing him. You knew it was because it was three days of uncertainty. For you and for him. You both were in a state of limbo during that time and it had been your fault.
“Um, hey…” The sudden voice of your roommate startled both you and Harry. You’d forgotten all about Goose to be honest.
You laughed and Harry pulled your hand into his, “This is Harry. Um…” You looked up at him as you spoke.
“Oh, this is Harry. Okay…” she grinned.
You nodded, “Yeah. He’s uh… And, oh! This is Goose, or Oris, but she goes by Goose,” you looked from your roommate to Harry.
He reached a hand out toward her with a smile, “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise. Now I have a face to go with… well I mean now I know what you look like,” she laughed, “But um… I’m just leaving. I’m going to stay over at a friend’s tonight so,” Goose looked at you, “Enjoy.”
“You don’t have to go,” you spoke as you watched her head toward the door.
“I think I do, actually. No offense but, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to listen to you both going at it all night. But seriously, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She walked around you and closed the door behind her, leaving you and Harry alone.
You looked up at him with a knowing smile, blinking your eyes at him, and stood to your toes to continue kissing him.
You weren’t sure what had crashed to the ground as you and Harry began to claw at one another and bumped into your coffee table when he walked you to your room with his mouth on yours. Everything was frantic and began to move on fast forward.
You hardly remembered pulling at his shirt and attempting to push it up so you could feel his warm skin and kiss him properly all over. You didn’t even realize that you’d pushed him down so that you were straddling him and attacking his pecs and his abs with your mouth and your tongue.
But when he laughed deeply, the sound vibrating from his chest as you began to unhook his belt, you opened your eyes and looked at him and realized what was going on, “Sorry!” You laughed in a panted breath.
Harry’s smile told you that he was not offended, “Sorry for what? Baby you can have me however you want. I was just a little surprised when you pushed me down is all.”
You laughed as you looked down at him. You were excited. For everything. That he felt the way you did, that you didn’t have to hide now that Tyler knew, that he was there with you in your apartment, in your bed…
“I think I should apologize for all of this. For what happened,” you cupped his jaw, “Because this could have all been avoided had I just said something to you like a grown-up. We were both on the same page but I made things worse by keeping it in and freaking out.”
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Harry when you began to move down his legs and take his pants with you. He watched you climb between his bare legs and then palm over his bulge as you looked into his eyes, “Gonna make it up to you. I’ll never do that again. I promise I’ll always talk to you.”
Harry grinned and put his hands behind his back to cradle his head, “What are you planning to do to make it up to me, then?” He had a pretty good idea based on the way you were rubbing over him and slowly making him hard in his underwear as you licked your lips.
“Anything you want. Figured I’d start here,” you dipped your fingers into the band of his underwear and raised your brows, “Is it okay?”
Harry’s laugh had you grinning wide, “Yes, baby. You can get me naked if you want. You have permission to do anything you’d like.”
You loved the way he looked. His strong core muscles flexed as he lifted his hips to help you remove his underwear. You dragged your palms up his strong thighs and toward his cock before you cupped a hand under his balls and lowered yourself to him, jutting your tongue out and softly licking the skin on his sac. You reached up a hand upward, wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and began to stroke him from tip to base and back again as you moved your lips over his balls.
Harry enjoyed having his balls licked and so that meant you liked it too. He’d wiggle the slightest and work to keep his thighs spread so you could really get in there and wet every inch of him and then suck them into your mouth gently.
“Y/n… baby…” he breathed out and you looked up at your gorgeous man enjoying the things your mouth did to him.
Licking upward, from his balls all the way up his long shaft to his tip he put his eyes on yours as you dotted hot kisses over his velvety skin. You kept your fist around his base as you swirled your tongue over his frenulum and dipped it into his slit just enough to get that reaction from him you loved.
He bucked his hips softly and gasped before you wrapped your mouth around him and lowered down his cock, finally getting to smooth your tongue up and down his length until his tip pressed into the back of your throat.
You were able to maintain eye contact at first. He kept his hands behind his head as he watched you suck him off with his lips parted.
But when you pulled off of him and you were getting that dizzy, pliable feeling you always got when you needed him to start taking over Harry could tell it was time to assist you.
“Want me to help, baby?”
You nodded, saliva coating your chin, “Please, Daddy.”
So he helped because he was a gentleman of course. With his hand cupping the back of your head holding you down and his hips thrusting up into your mouth he groaned as you gagged and sputtered around him.
You felt the brush of his pubic hair on your nose every time he worked his cock down your throat, making you wretch and gurgle. But the sounds of pleasure falling from his chest, growing more and more intense had you only opening wider, wanting more.
When he lifted you off of him you could hardly see with the glaze of tears in your eyes. Harry’s voice was soft as he helped you out of your dress and you clung to him to hold steady with each piece of fabric that was discarded.
“Such a pretty dress, baby. Wore It for me?”
You nodded and chuckled softly, “Just for you, Daddy. Hoped you’d like it.”
“Oh, I love it. Knew the minute I saw you it was for me. But this is better,” he cupped your tits in his palm as he moved you down to the bed on your back before licking at your nipples and then kissing his way up your neck.
He planted soft, wet pecks to your skin and over your lips before he worked his way down your body slowly until he’d gotten between your thighs and nudged your legs apart.
But he stopped his fluid movements and the brushing of his hands when you looked down at him with a teasing grin, knowing what he just found. Your secret accessory. A pink jewel anal plug.
His chest was rising and falling heavily as he pressed over the pink jewel that was sticking out from your ass and then looked up at you, “Also for me?”
You nodded, “Always only for you.”
Harry’s brows pinched together as he looked back between your legs and smeared his thumb up your labia, glistening with arousal. He dipped down and ran his tongue between your pussylips and up to your clit, smacking it into his mouth and making you moan loudly at the sudden sensation.
His mouth kissed and pressed and his tongue laved and circled every sensitive bit of your vulva. But it was the repeated lapping at your clit and the soft but greedy suckle that had you jerking your hips up and whining.
“Want you, Daddy… Please… Your cock…” You babbled out your words and Harry sat back, his thumb still circling your clit.
“Yeah? Want me inside of you, baby? Can’t handle anymore of this?”
“I want to feel you close to me…” You panted.
Harry ran his hands up your skin and over your neck, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat and the other groping your tit as he kissed your lips and he ran his solid cock through your slippery folds.
“How do you want me, baby? Like this? Maybe you want to be on top this time?”
Part of you wanted him to just fuck your ass. But you did want to feel him in your pussy first. Needed to feel that intimate connection, that stretch…
“On my tummy. With you on me and holding me close.” 
Harry groaned and sat up as he pushed you to your tummy and crawled over your back, making you spread your legs as he ran his cock against your pussy before slowly pushing his wide crown through your slick muscle, expanding your entrance and spreading your vagina with every inch he pushed in until you were whimpering at the depth of him.
He pushed the front of his thighs into the back of yours, “Like this, baby,” speaking lowly into your ear as he pressed his chest into your back and tucked a hand under your hip so he could finger your clit as he began to roll into you, pushing in and in, his solid girth splitting you in two and making you tremble, “Yes, Daddy!”
Harry didn’t fuck into you hard. He didn’t rail the life out of you as he did so many times before. No, this time his movements were slow and languid. Meaningful. Powerful.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/n. Made just for me, baby… Fuck…” he spoke into your ear as he pressed in, your anal plug being nudged into with every rock of his hips.
“I need you, Daddy… I need you…” you didn’t know exactly what you meant when you moaned your words but they were the truth. You did need him. Never wanted to be without him again. Never wanted to go through the torture of not knowing what was going on again.
“Yes, baby. Daddy needs you too, honey. I need you so much… every part of you…” you could hear the strain in his voice, “You’re mine, Y/n. You know that right?”
You could have died right then. That was all you needed in life. Self-actualization realized.
“Yes, Daddy… ohhh ffuuuuu! I’m yours. All yours…” his harsh thrust had your mouth dropping wide and your limbs quivering as he smoothed his fingers over your clit. You couldn’t stop it. Could help the ridiculously loud gurgled moan that fell from your mouth as you began to spasm around him.
“Just like that… Daddy’s cock feels so good doesn’t it baby… Oooh shit, little girl… Yes, there you go…” he coaxed you through your orgasm with soft words as you felt like you could vanish into thin air. He brought his free hand around to the front of your neck as he continued nudging deep into your tummy and panting in your ear.
His hips were pasted to your ass as he ground in, making your plug shift inside of you and you gasped. You wanted more. He had his hand around your throat, just there – not squeezing, and the feel of your plug…
“Daddy…” you panted, “Will you fuck my ass? I want it so bad.”
Harry puffed a laugh against your neck and kissed your jaw, “You sure, honey? You’re not too tired after that?”
You turned yourself to look at him, “Please.”
And how could he say no to you when you looked at him like that? When you called him Daddy and rounded your eyes and squeezed your cunt around his thick shaft.
He licked his lips as he slowly pulled his throbbing cock out of your pussy. He was so close to coming just then. So close to his release he was thankful for the moment it would take to remove your plug.
“This is so pretty, baby,” he spoke as he twisted and began to pull at it to remove it from you. “Gonna look even prettier with my cock in there. Sure you’re ready?”
You groaned and nodded, keeping your body twisted to look at him behind you, “I’m ready. So ready for it.”
Harry poured a very healthy amount of lube over your anus and smeared it all around your tight hole and then dipped his fingers inside to press the slick liquid as deep as his fingers could push it.
“Already nice and relaxed…” Harry commented as he pulled his fingers out. You were ready. You were sure of it. Harry might be a bit bigger than your anal dildo but you knew you were going to love it.
Harry pulled at your hips to angle you up for his access as he softly caressed your bum with one hand and used his other to grip his twitching cock. He smudged his tip to your hole and delicately pressed in, keeping an eye on your reaction as you arched your back and moaned, “More…”
You heard him chuckle as his tip finally breached the space into your anus, opening you up and making the breath catch in your throat at the initial burn and achy stretch.
“Color?” He spoke in a panted breath, already fucking out of his mind at the view he had.
“Green, so green,” you choked out.
He continued to press in until the burn you felt disappeared and that familiar fullness that you loved from your dildo began to take over.
“Ahhhhh!” Your voice was guttural as Harry slid back and then pushed in again.
He got into a very gentle pace, in and back, in and back, until your toes were curling and you were starting to see stars, “Fuck! Daddy!”
Harry stayed silent behind you as he worked himself in, rolling gentle, easy, and cautious thrusts as his face twisted up in ecstasy. He didn’t want to hurt you. He would allow himself to fuck you harder after a few tries, but this first time he was going to be a gentleman with your tight hole.
You reached between your legs and began to toggle at your nub and you choked out a gasp as you whined, “It feels so fucking good…”
Harry could hear the way your words came out shaky, like you were crying but he was quite in tune with your movements and you were very obviously enjoying every thrust he issued. Not to mention how you were already rubbing your clit and your legs were starting to shake. All good signs.
Harry’s groans were timed with his thrusts and they grew deeper and louder as he got nearer to his release. He was already throbbing and twitching and he was positive he was smearing precome inside of you as his balls tightened.
But then suddenly you howled as your muscles tensed and tears fell from your eyes. You could hardly maintain control of your limbs as you shook and convulsed.
Harry stopped his movements as he watched you fall apart and it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. Watching you lose it as you rubbed your clit and cried, his cock lodged into your ass, your thighs quivering… But he gulped down his instinct to pump his come into you. He wasn’t sure if you were okay with that or not. He was sure you wouldn’t mind but it hadn’t been discussed prior so he’d hold off til you gave him permission. Coming inside of your bum would be a bit of a different experience than it was in your pussy.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He had to will away his strong urge as you slowly calmed and moved your hand away from your bundle of nerves. But the moment he could tell you were good, he pulled out and pumped his cock in his hand, spurting come on your ass and your back as he coughed out a loud moan that filled the room.
You turned to watch him in his orgasm as you felt his warm cum spray over your skin. His chest was flushed and his strong biceps and triceps were flexing as he stroked his long shaft. Beautiful in every way.
When he opened his eyes and looked at you he was flushed and panting and as sexy as anything you’d ever seen. You pushed yourself up to your knees and turned to him, pulling him down to your mouth.
You were still a little shaky as you clung to the back of his neck and he puffed a laugh against your lips when he rubbed his hands up your sides and then down to your ass when he dredged his fingers through his come.
You laughed with him but he continued kissing you anyway, despite the mess he’d made and the sticky come all over his fingers and your back. The kiss was hot and soft all at the same time.
Those deep and viscous feelings were coming to the surface again. Your heart pounded heavy in your chest as your brain swirled with thoughts of only Harry. Of him being yours and you being his. Of sweet things and real emotions you could finally express freely. Because you knew he felt it too.
“Well, that was fun. Don’t think I expected this day to turn out so perfectly,” he grinned as he parted from the kiss.
You smoothed your hands to his jaw and looked at him dreamily, “Better than I imagined. So much better. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Harry’s nose poked into yours, “Baby, I’m glad I’m here too. I do have one thing I need to say, though.”
Your heart dropped for a half second as you pulled away and looked into his eyes, unsure of what he needed to say.
“Be my girlfriend?”
You sputtered out a laugh of disbelief, “Of course. Figured that was already established.”
The right side of Harry’s lip quirked up, “Well it certainly is now. Plus now I can tell everyone you’re my girlfriend if we make it official.”
You ran your hands over his strong pecs and nodded, “Yeah? You wanna tell everyone?” You took one of his hands and brought it up to your mouth as you proceeded to lick his come from his fingers.
Harry let out a shallow laugh before he groaned as he watched you, “I am definitely telling everyone you’re my girlfriend.”
You smiled as you ran your tongue over his knuckles and looked up at him, “I like the sound of that, Daddy.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the series! 💕 xoxo
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freedomfireflies · 5 months
Text
Knockout*
Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.
Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence
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Your stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.
And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.
He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.
Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.
You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.
You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 
“Hi, Cherry.”
Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 
You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.
Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.
“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”
Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”
“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”
“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”
“As much as you want.”
He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.
Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”
“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.
And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”
Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 
So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.
“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”
And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 
“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.
Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”
“Good. Better now.”
The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 
“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 
There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”
You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 
“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”
Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”
It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”
“Are you?”
He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”
“Why?”
He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”
It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.
But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.
He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”
“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”
He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”
You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 
“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”
Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”
“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”
Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”
“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”
The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 
He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.
That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.
He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.
And from that night on, you became his Cherry.
He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.
And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:
He always pays with big bills.
He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.
And his name is Harry.
Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.
“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 
You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”
“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”
Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”
“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”
You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”
However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”
His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 
You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”
You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”
The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.
“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”
Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”
You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.
You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.
Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.
“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”
Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 
Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.
“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”
“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”
The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.
“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.
But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”
Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.
You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.
“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”
And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”
Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”
His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.
The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.
Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 
And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.
Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 
Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.
With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.
However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”
But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.
The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.
All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.
There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.
You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.
“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”
“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”
Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.
“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”
Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”
Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”
“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”
“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"
Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.
“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”
With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.
 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.
He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.
 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.
Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.
You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 
Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 
“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.
“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”
You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.
And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”
“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”
“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”
He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”
He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 
“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”
“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”
And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.
And truth be told…you think he already knows.
His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.
“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”
“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”
“Oh…how?”
His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”
“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”
The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 
But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 
You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.
“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”
A beat. Then, “…every night.”
The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.
And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.
But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.
It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.
And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 
Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.
It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.
“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”
You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.
“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”
A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.
“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”
You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.
And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.
“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”
And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 
“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”
He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 
“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”
He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.
“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”
You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 
Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.
His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 
“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”
You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Promise?”
“Mhm. Promise.”
The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”
He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.
Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 
You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.
Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.
Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.
“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”
Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 
They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 
Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 
Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.
But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 
“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”
You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.
Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.
He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”
You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”
He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”
Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.
When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 
“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”
He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.
And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.
He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 
He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”
“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”
His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 
You’ve never been so happy in your life.
He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.
His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 
You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.
“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”
You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.
The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 
“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”
It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.
He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 
It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.
He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.
Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.
And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”
“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”
You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.
“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”
He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 
You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”
You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 
The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.
And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.
You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.
Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.
By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 
He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.
Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  
“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”
The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.
But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 
He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.
He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.
He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 
You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.
Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.
Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.
He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   
Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 
You’d keep him forever if you could.
You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.
“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”
And you know he will.
“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”
You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.
Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”
You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.
He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”
You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”
“Is that right?”
Another shake. “Get bored.”
“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”
Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 
He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”
You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.
“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”
And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 
“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”
“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 
“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”
He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.
The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.
You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”
And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.
Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.
Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.
His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.
“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”
And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 
“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”
“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”
And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 
You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 
Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"
And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.
“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”
And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.
But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”
“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”
“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”
“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”
“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”
You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.
He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”
Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.
But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.
He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 
That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”
Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.
He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.
This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 
And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 
When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”
You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.
“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”
You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.
“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”
He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.
“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”
And you decide you like the sound of that.
Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.
He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”
You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.
You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 
You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 
You hope one day you get to find out. 
“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”
You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.
“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”
You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.
“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”
He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 
His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”
He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.
“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”
The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.
“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”
The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 
“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”
And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.
But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 
“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”
And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.
“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”
The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.
But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.
He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.
After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.
“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”
Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 
And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”
“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”
His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”
“I’m…trying. I think.”
“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”
His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.
You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 
It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”
With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”
This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”
“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”
His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”
It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.
But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.
His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”
You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”
Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”
“Promise?”
His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”
And you choose to believe him.
You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.
A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.
You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.
When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.
But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.
But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 
Your stranger isn’t here.
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I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞
Next Part:
~ Whiplash*
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge
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harrysfolklore · 2 months
Note
hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb
that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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The night had been one for the books.
Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.
He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.
Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.
Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.
"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.
"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"
Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.
It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.
"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."
"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."
"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."
The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.
"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."
Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.
Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.
You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.
And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.
And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.
“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.
“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.
Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.
"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.
"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.
"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”
You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.
"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"
You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.
"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."
The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.
"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."
Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.
"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.
"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."
The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.
"Home it is, then."
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harrysonlylover · 2 months
Text
Psycho For You*
Summary: In which jealousy runs deep in his blood.
Warnings: MEAN Harry, blood, mentions of violence, filthy rough smut, shower sex, choking, degradation, size kink.
WC: 1.4k
Main Masterlist
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Y/n had good intentions in mind. Not pure or angelic, but the right amount of playfulness. She didn’t anticipate this to happen or meant to do any harm.
She should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known better than to rile him up, and fuel his jealousy. All she wanted to do was mess with him, and it took a different route.
The blood was dripping on the tiles, but he didn’t wash it off because at the moment he had a lesson to teach.
“You think you’re so clever, huh?” A sadistic smile was painted on his face as he nipped on her skin.
The blood belonged to the man she ‘flirted’ with, he didn’t kill him despite the burning urge he felt. Instead, others at the party had to pull him away before it escalated.
And the sick truth? She liked it.
“Don’t you know that you belong to me?” He grabbed her throat with a tight grip, staining her skin with blood.
The hot water poured on their naked bodies as he rested his forehead against hers, with his cock nestled deep inside her heat.
“I do.” She shivered from the thrill of it all.
“Tsk tsk, looks like your little brain forgot again.” He thrusted inside her, causing her head to tilt backward against the glass wall.
He refused her help once they arrived home, dismissing the need to clean and stitch his hands. That wasn’t what he needed. He craved having her warm walls engulf his cock as he watched her facial expression change for him.
The steam from the hot water covered the glass walls, and Harry had her body supported with his.
“Silly girl, pushed my buttons on purpose and now look what happened.”
The wet sounds caused by his thrusting could not be overpowered by the dripping water. He adored hearing how his cock penetrated her, and he was extra rough this time.
“Whose slut are you? Hmm?” His grip on her jaw would surely cause visible bruises in the morning.
“Yours.” She replied weakly and incoherently because of her smushed cheeks.
“Oh look, the brainless slut can speak. Looks like I’m too easy on you.” He suddenly stopped mid thrust, raking his eyes all over her gorgeous face. A grin slowly made its way before he pulled out and slid in again with a rough force.
He used his hands to bounce her body on his cock quickly. Her screams were music to his ears.
“Bet you liked how I almost killed him for you. You want that, don’t you?” His wet curls covered his forehead while he bit her shoulder.
Her answer was muffled by her moans and whimpers. He lived to hear her beautiful sobs and cries of pleasure. His cock was made to pleasure her always soaked pussy—or should he say his pussy?
“Not gonna answer, eh? No need darling. I felt the clench of your dirty cunt when I asked.” She tugged at his hair knowing how much he adored the pain.
If not for her mushy brain and feelings of euphoria, she would’ve answered him properly. She wasn’t even ashamed of it because he had corrupted her to the core. Fuck yes, she liked it.
She wanted him to protect her and loved the idea of him going crazy for her. Loved the idea of her man, exploiting his physical strength for her.
Her hands held onto his biceps as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. His thrusts were merciless. He hit her G-spot repeatedly and stopped whenever she clenched a lot which was an indication of an orgasm.
He followed it with a wicked laugh and more aggressive kissing. His mouth nipped all over his body, whether it be biting, sucking, or ‘gentle’ kissing. He made sure to leave his marks everywhere. The bruises that will form on her body were the smallest example.
He would soon cum inside her walls, plant his seed deep inside her womb and give her the feeling she begs him for. And over the next few days, soreness will follow.
“Would you look at that?” He chuckled as he glanced down to where his cock pulled out from her warm pussy again. It was coated with their wetness but more specifically her juices.
“Pathetic slut, getting off the fact that I hurt other people for you.” He pulled her hair, causing a stinging sensation in her scalp. He gently tapped on her cheek signaling for her to open her mouth. He spat inside before guiding her lips to his and clashing his tongue with hers.
“Should’ve just spat on you instead from how filthy you are, and you’d like it anyways.” The steam from the hot water caused fog to arise in the small bathroom. She genuinely could not think straight. Everything was too overwhelming and euphoric. She couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his glorious body where his cock was hanging.
No wonder her pussy felt empty.
She swallowed down her throat at his size, she really wondered how he fit inside her sometimes, but she was immediately reminded of how many tries and lube it took for him to fit in.
After that, he had her stretched properly to his shape and curve because he simply owned her.
“Little bunny, you’re about to drool.” He tsked, raising her chin with his finger. She gave him innocent doe eyes that had him weak in the knees.
“All for a cock?” He laughed, pushing hair strands out of her face.
“Fuck me.” She begged, digging her nails into his tatted skin.
“Should I though? I mean it’s too big for your tight cunt.” He pretended to hesitate, placing his cock from the base near her pussy, allowing it to stand reaching her stomach.
“See? I could probably move your womb if I want to.” He mocked her with every single word he spewed. And of course, she loved it.
She went crazy for how he degraded her and made her feel small. He knew that her exact weakness was their size difference and how he rearranged her insides with how deep he went.
“Please, I need to cum.” She grinded her dripping pussy against his shaft, earning a harsh slap to her her engorged clitoris.
“So fucking needy and whiny for my cock.” He lined up the tip with her entrance and slid in swiftly.
The relief on her face once he entered her was fucking priceless. God, he lived for her pussy and intimacy. She had him hooked.
“Is that how you want me to treat you? Like you’re just a hole?” His hips snapped against hers as her cries filled the small space.
“Well guess what darling? You’re nothing more than that.” He landed a harsh slap to her ass, before bringing his hand to her throat.
“Harder. You own me, Harry.” She managed to speak despite the tight grip.
“I know I fucking do.” He sneered, plowing into her like a madman.
It was on a whole other level of pleasure and craziness. A psychotic lust. He placed all of his godly stamina into claiming her pussy.
Her face scrunched in both pleasure and pain. An expression that he loved.
“Oh good, does that hurt?” He tilted his head to the side, not forgetting to glance at her bouncing breasts.
She nodded weakly at his question, with her nails scratching down his back over previous scars caused by their rough sex.
“As it fucking should. My pretty fuckdoll. What do you say?”
“Tha—Thank you.” She breathed out.
The sound of skin slapping intensified, he was hitting her cervix with every thrust, deeper and deeper. Their fucks were filthier than orgies.
“Now cum on my cock so I could fill this pussy up.” He whispered in her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.
She had been waiting all night for his cue, almost cried even. He teased her continuously for his pleasure and mocked her tightness when he knew how stretched she was.
“Uh—ohh.” Their faces were inches apart and he stared into her eyes right as her orgasm hit her. Her body was lit on fire as she moaned audibly, and clung onto him. He kept fucking her through her high, feeling the wetness drip down his thighs.
He was about to follow her and allow himself a release but instead, he turned the water off.
“Can’t have the water wash my cum away, it should be deep inside of you.” He panted heavily and caressed her flushed cheeks.
The moment he said that she knew she was in for a long night of rounds, orgasms, and humiliation.
And she wouldn’t want it any other way.
——————————————————
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gucciwins · 4 months
Text
Y/N just wants Harry to like her.
Word count: 5964
A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.
Now happy reading! I love you
+
Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.
Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 
She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 
There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 
Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 
Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 
Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 
Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 
Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 
Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 
The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.
 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 
Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.
Bowling. Too loud. 
It seems there was an excuse for everything.
Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.
The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 
They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  
Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 
“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 
No answer. 
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 
He fidgets with his fork. 
“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 
Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 
“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 
Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 
With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 
One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 
“Any good?”
Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 
Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 
He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”
Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 
The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 
“What’s this one about?”
“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 
Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 
“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 
“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.
Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 
“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”
He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 
“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”
+
Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.
“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 
Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 
“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 
“Where to?” He asks curiously. 
She silently cheers, “Iceland.”
“Is that your dog?” 
“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”
“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 
Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”
Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”
Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 
Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”
He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.
+
September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.
It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 
“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 
“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 
Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.
“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”
“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.
Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 
Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 
The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 
Enjoy - HS
Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 
“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 
Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 
“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 
Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 
“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 
“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 
Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 
Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 
“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 
“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 
“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 
After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 
“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.
“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 
“It can just be too much sometimes.”
“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 
“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 
“See you in a bit then.”
+
Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 
Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 
Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.
“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 
Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 
Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”
He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 
“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.
“Everyone is going?”
“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”
Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”
“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 
“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.
Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 
“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”
She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 
+
The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 
Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.
It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.
“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.
“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 
Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 
Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 
Harry likes Y/N.
It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 
“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 
“I did,” he answers. 
“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 
Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 
“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 
Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”
He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”
Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”
Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 
Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 
“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 
“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.
“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 
“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 
They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 
“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.
Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 
“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 
“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”
The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.
Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 
Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 
“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.
She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 
“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 
They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.
“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 
And so they continue on. 
The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 
While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 
Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 
To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 
“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 
“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 
“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 
“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 
“Hozier.” 
“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 
“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 
“As do you.” 
The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 
Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.
As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.
“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 
“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 
Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 
Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 
Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 
“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 
He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 
“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”
“By all means, lead the way.” 
After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 
The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 
“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 
Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 
Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 
Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 
He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.
“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 
“Let me walk you up.” 
Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 
“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 
“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 
“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.
Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 
She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”
Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.
She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 
“Ask me,” he pleads. 
“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 
Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 
She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 
When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 
Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.
“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 
“Too far.
Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 
“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 
“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 
Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 
Harry can’t say no.
+
Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 
“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 
“Morning,” he answers timidly. 
Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 
Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”
“A date?” He echoes. 
“With me,” she giggles.
“Best thing I've heard all day.”
Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 
“How does this weekend sound?” 
“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 
“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 
“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 
“Yes, love?” 
Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 
Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 
Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.
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stylesloveclub · 8 months
Text
sunshine (epilogue)
In which Harry's still grumpy, except for when he's with his sunshine girl.
˙· .° 。  ˚ 。  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° 。 ˚ 。  ° . · ˙ · .° 。 ˚ 。 °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  
“How was it?” Maddie asks y/n, sitting in the driver’s seat of her beat up red Toyota Corolla. The engine is running as y/n climbs into the passengers side, carelessly throwing her backpack in the backseat and buckling herself up. 
“I don’t want to think about integrals ever again,” y/n responds. She’s just gotten out of her calc midterm, and she feels horrible and miserable and exhausted. Although she’d promised herself to go to sleep early last night so that she’d be alert and prepared for her exam… she actually hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 AM. She’d been twisting and turning in her bed, flipping her pillows and trying to lull herself to sleep all night, unsuccessfully. 
Thankfully the class wasn’t until noon, so she was still able to get at least five-ish hours of sleep. But she still woke up feeling like shit. Her heart had been pounding nervously all morning, and she hadn’t been able to get any food down except for three sips of some coffee she made for herself in the morning. She didn’t put any makeup on as she left for campus, only a pair of sweats and a burgundy sweatshirt… Harry’s burgundy sweatshirt. The one he’d given to her in the car when he’d driven her home. 
Now, she has a reason for wearing it! You see… it still smelled like him. And y/n somehow convinced herself that by wearing Harry’s sweatshirt (the sweatshirt that smelled like him!) she might be able to…  absorb some of his math skills? And do better on her midterm? 
She’s pulling at straws here. She still feels like she failed it. 
“Listen…” Maddie says, pulling out of the parking lot. “I need to go over to Blake’s, I left my makeup bag in his bathroom and then we’re gonna go out for lunch.”
“Okay,” y/n mumbles, not caring. She closes her eyes to try and soothe the pounding in her head. She’s gonna nap as soon as she gets into her bed. 
“Do you want me to drop you off at home first? Or… did you want to come and see Harry?” 
Y/n’s eyes flutter open. Harry. 
Maddie looks over at y/n knowingly. Y/n turns bashful. “Yeah, I’ll come and see Harry.”
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Harry looks like he’s just woken up when he opens his bedroom door for y/n.
His eyes are puffy and his curls are flat and messy. A smile immediately spreads on his face when he sees it’s y/n.
“Hey.” His voice is deep and raspy, and it’s probably the first word he’s said all day. 
“Hi,” she says, twisting her hands in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. No– his sweatshirt. 
Oh. Oops.
Harry smiles down at the burgundy sweatshirt that’s swallowed y/n’s body. 
“I– I wore it so that I could return it,” she stammers. A lie! Harry sees right through it, and finds his smirk growing even wider. 
“I like it on you,” he grins. She grows shy under his gaze, heart bubbling with that familiar feeling. The feeling of a crush. “How was the midterm?” he asks, closing the door behind himself and y/n.
He lays back down in his bed, the way he’d previously been before y/n came knocking on his door, and y/n sits down next to him. “I dunno,” she shrugs. Her eyes are downcast and dull, lacking the happy sparkle he usually searches for whenever he’s in her presence.
“I’m sure you did okay,” he says, resting a reassuring hand on her knee. “At least it’s over now!”
She nods. A certain weight had been lifted from her chest as she walked out of that lecture hall. No more studying integrals and derivatives for hours straight…
“There was this one problem,” y/n can’t help but say. “It was like… ln(x) to the power of two…”
“Do you want to write it out?” Harry asks. He knows that y/n probably won’t be able to let this midterm go until she gets all of her questions out of the way. 
With a pen and paper in hand, she messily writes the problem out, the paper tearing a little bit when she presses down too hard. “It was ln(x)^2… and i split it into ln(x)*ln(x). That’s allowed right?”
Harry nods, “Mhm. That’s what I would’ve done too. What next?”
“Um… I did a U-sub. I don’t know if that’s right though… I was running out of time and just did something so that I could get at least partial credit.” 
“A u-sub is right,” he grins.
“Really?” She blinks with wide eyes as he nods. “So… wait– tell me if I did the rest of it right.” She messily writes down what she remembers putting down on the test, then gives the paper to Harry. 
“S’good,” his dimple pops out as he smiles up at her, “It’s all right. And you didn’t forget the +C, good job!” 
“No way!” she exclaims, disbelievingly. Her hands land on Harry’s chest as she giggles triumphantly, “No freaking way I did it right! I thought I was just making math up! Oh my gosh!”
“Told you,” he laughs along with her, holding the hand that she rested on his chest. “Stop stressing out, sunshine. You studied, and now you’re done!”
There’s that name again, the one that makes her entire body tingle with happy chills. >sunshine. The sparkle in her eye is back, and Harry feels pride for being the reason she laughed. The entire world feels brighter now that she’s happy again. 
Y/n’s giggles die down slowly, and she looks down at Harry, eyes flickering between his. Her stare is intent as she chews on her lip, the remnants of her cheery smile still present in the apples of her cheeks.
Something thuds on the floor behind Harry. They both peer over the side of the bed to see what fell from his bedside table. It’s just a book… but when y/n looks closer…
“Wuthering Heights?” 
His cheeks turn pink. “Yeah…” he coughs dryly. “I um… I remember you reading it. Thought it might be nice if I picked it up, and that… we might be able to talk about it or something.” 
Her heart swells in her chest. “You’re reading Wuthering Heights?” 
“Well– trying to,” he chuckles at himself lamely. “I’m like 10 pages in.”
She wants to kiss him. She really really does. Like… he’s perfect and beautiful and kind and sweet and amazing. But… god would it be weird? After last time?
Harry pushes himself up on his elbows. He can feel the tension too. But when he inches closer to her, her eyes flicker with doubt and she looks away. 
“No,” he pleads, cupping her jaw. “Please… please don’t let it be different.” She meets his gaze again. 
“I like you,” he swallows thickly, “and I want… something with you. Whatever you want.” 
He inches upward, and this time she doesn’t pull away. Her heart races in her chest and she lets the magnetic force between them take over. 
“We’ll take it slow, at your pace…” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut. “No rush. Just trust me, please.”
She nods. She trusts him.
Their lips connect, a spark flying through y/n’s body the second she makes contact with him. It’s wonderful, better than last time, even, and she realizes the reason kissing Harry is so great is because it’s >Harry. Because she can feel how much he cares for her when he kisses her. He speaks poems with his lips when he kisses her and writes sonnets on her skin every time he touches her. He tastes like minty toothpaste, freshly washed, and his lips are so soft and sweet and gentle. 
He pulls away from her lips with a soft click, then stares up at her with hearts floating in his eyes. 
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Y/n is out of breath, huffing and puffing in front of Harry’s door and knocking like a madwoman. She ran here from her own apartment, too excited to wait and ask Maddie for a ride. She needed to see him >immediately. 
Harry opens the door with concerned eyes and furrowed eyebrows, a little bit scared. He still has his headphones on with his controller in his hands, staring down at y/n as though he just had a heart attack, “What? What is it?” 
A huge grin is plastered on her face. “Harry!” she beams. “I passed!”
“What?” he’s still confused. What did she pass? Why is she at his door?
“I got a 77% on the midterm!” she squeals, jumping up and down in her place. 
His eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. “Yes!” he cheers. He pulls the headphones off of his ears and hangs them around his neck, just in time for when y/n wraps her arms around him. He’s taken aback, stumbling a few steps backwards from how hard she pummeled into him, but easily steadies himself and wraps his arms around her back. He hugs her so tight that her feet leave the ground, and she’s laughing in his ear sweetly.
“I can’t believe it!!!” she says, her hands on his shoulders as he puts her back down on the ground. Her eyes glimmer with the shine that he adores so much, and it makes him grin even harder. His dimple pops out, a rare sighting for anyone else except for y/n these days. 
He kisses her without a second thought.
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The scene is all too familiar. Harry, sitting at a party with his eyebrows furrowed grumpily. His friends are sitting around him, laughing and chattering, but Harry says nothing. He takes a bored sip from the jungle juice in his hand. Three girls have approached him tonight, batting their eyes up at him and biting their lips teasingly, but he’s brushed them off without so much of a glance. He’s not interested in the slightest.
He looks around himself, eyes searching for a certain someone, and he sighs to himself. She’s still not here. His pout grows more prominent, and he whips out his phone. He does not care for anyone at this party, and though his friends are fun and all… they’re having a weird conversation about Elon Musk that he doesn’t want to even listen to.
He huffs. He stares at the last text he received, 19 minutes ago.
sunshine: omw!! be there in 15 :)
She’s 4 minutes late, he pouts. It’s probably Maddie’s fault.
A firm poke is pressed to his forehead. “Hey grumpy.” His heart jumps as he recognizes the sweet sunshine angel voice speaking to him. 
“Sunshine,” he coos, the furrow his brow immediately melting into a soft smile. He holds a hand out for her, which she immediately takes. She has a soft smile on her face, her eyes kind and warm and gentle, the LED party lights haloing around her head and making her look like a fairy. “Missed you.”
He pulls her down into his lap, her butt comfortably sat on his thighs, and nuzzles his face into her neck, trying to get as close to her as possible. A content hum rumbles through his chest now that he’s surrounded by her scent, his pretty girlfriend in his lap, drowning out all the other people at the party. She giggles cutely when his curls tickle her chin, simultaneously trying to escape the kisses he’s pressing to her sensitive throat while also wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 
“Watcha drinking?” she asks. 
He offers her his drink, “dunno.” She grimaces as she takes a sip, and he imitates her grossed out face. “Yucky, isn’t it?”
She gets the drink as far away as possible from herself. “Gross.” 
He chuckles. She’s so beyond cute, her cheeks so soft and biteable as she scrunches her nose. One of his hands is on her back, holding her upright, while the other one rests on her thigh comfortably. His fingers on her back find the ends of her hair and start twisting them, playing with the soft strands and curling them around his fingers, while his fingers on her thigh trace up and down and up and down. Goosebumps rise along the path of his fingers, and it makes him smile. She’s so reactive to every single one of his touches… he wants to have his hands on her 24/7.
If she wasn’t so shy and sweet and innocent, he’d start kissing her pretty, glossed up lips right here and now, even with all of their friends sitting around them. He’s obsessed with her! Obsessed with kissing her all the time and teaching her all the secrets of intimacy. But he knows she’d probably get bashful and embarrassed with that much PDA (even getting her to sit in his lap took a bit of coaxing at the beginning), so he settles for pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re so cute,” he murmurs to her, resting his head on her shoulder. Is it too early for them to leave this party and to his room? He’d love to be snuggled up in bed with her… have her read to him a little bit while he plays with her hair… yeah that sounds nice.
“M’gonna go get a juice box from the fridge,” she whispers (his fridge is stocked with juice just for her). He whine when she pulls away, looking up at her with big pleading puppy dog eyes, begging her not to leave him when he’s just gotten her, but she pecks his cheek with a dismissive kiss. “Do you want one too?”
“No,” he pouts. “I’ll just have some of yours, if that’s okay?”
She squints her eyes at him, “you get two sips, and that’s it.” 
He shrugs with a teasing smile. “M’kay.” He resists the urge to pat her ass as she walks away (that’s for when they’re alone in his room).
He’s stuck in a lovey dovey lavender haze as he watches her get swept away by a group of her girlfriends, smiling to himself fondly as they all giggle and look towards Harry mischievously. He knows she’s probably getting grilled about how little miss sunshine finally got a boyfriend! 
A shove from Blake jostles him out of his daydream. “Who are you?” Blake snickers. All of his friends are staring at him too. Nobody has ever, ever seen grumpy Harry be so soft with anyone. Kissing her cheek and cuddling into her neck and whining like a love-struck puppy… it’s funny. 
Harry rolls his eyes and tells his friends to fuck off, trying to furrow his brows and look all serious again. But his heart flutters happily in his chest, and those pretty dimples dent his cheek. 
He can’t be very grumpy when his sunshine girl is skipping back to him, juice box in hand as she settles back down on his lap. 
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perfect ending for my fav story:( TELL ME WHAT BLURBS U WANNA SEE!!!! MANY MANY BLURBS TO COME BC I LOVE THIS STORY:(
sunshine masterlist
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ggrapeejuicee · 2 months
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„Just… Pretend.”
summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?
tropes (so far) : fake dating
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part one
“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”
You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.
“C’mon, please?”
You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”
“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”
“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”
“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”
“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”
“And they really liked you!”
“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”
“I can’t.” He sighs.
“You can.”
“I can’t.” He repeats.
You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.
“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.
“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”
“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”
“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!
The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.
Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.
You thought that was cute.

You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.
“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“
“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”
He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”
“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”
He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.
“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”
“Everything about you in a career aspect.”
“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”
“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”
“Name my first pet.”
“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.
“C’mon. You know the answer.”
He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.
“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.
“And what am I allergic to?”
“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”
Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.
“My favourite Christmas song?”
You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”
Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.
You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”
“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”
“But if if does-”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.
Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.
“If people find out I’ll kill you.”
“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”
You nod, reluctantly.
“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”
— — —
If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.
You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.
You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.
“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”
His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.
“Huh?”
“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”
“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”
“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”
There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.
“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.
“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”
Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”
You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.
“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”
“About the album?” You play dumb.
“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”
You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.
“Like what.”
He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Purple.” You reply.
“Mines is blue.”
“I know,” You reply.
“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.
You laughed to yourself a little.
“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”
“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”
You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”
“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.
“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”
“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.
“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”
“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”
You raise your eyebrows, “What?”
“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”
“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”
You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.
“Good to know.” He said.
He dropped you off outside your apartment.
“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”
You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.
“Flights at seven.” He says.
“Got it.”
The next few weeks were going to be hell.
part two coming soon…
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Could We Not?
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ONE SHOT
[ or Part 1 to Not Another Time ]
<< Request >> "Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where she’s like apart of the band and she gets hit in the head with a hard object while she’s on stage and Harry is super freaked out? That would be a sanity saver!" - @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
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Summary: Harry Styles is used to having things thrown at him on stage. Recently, it's been Skittles, which affected his vision. But when his band members are affected, he can't stay silent. Especially when it's YN who takes the hit.
AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! YN replaces Laura in the band, just in general, only because she plays the trumpet and I still included Parris.
Warnings: Some explicit language, wound with blood, angry Harry
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He can't escape it. It has carried on from his days in One Direction, and it seems to have become a permanent, unavoidable occurrence that things are thrown at him on stage.
Most are harmless, such as boas, sunglasses, or little plush toys that he is always inclined to keep.
However, there have been a few occasions where the objects were a bit more troublesome. Phones are a big one, which internally annoys the hell out of him at this point.
The most recent culprit, and the most shocking, was a handful of Skittles, one which hit him directly in his left eye. If there is a silver lining of that moment, it's that he only had to get through performing 'Kiwi' before he was able to run backstage and immediately have it taken care of.
He tries not to show anger on stage when things like that happen. He loves his fans. He always wants to treat them with kindness, acceptance, and gratitude. So he doesn't draw much attention to it. There has only been one occasion or two where he has subtly asked for some fans to stop throwing things.
Tonight, however, might be his tipping point.
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Harry has brushed off the frustration from the rock hard candy incident, because tonight is a new night and a new show.
There is also the new trumpet player, YN. Well, she isn't new per say, she's been there since the tour came back to North America, but she is the newest member of the band, and the one Harry has become extremely fond of.
She fits in perfectly with the rest of the group. She is so kind, so joyful, and everyone seems to be energized just by her presence. Including Harry. Especially Harry. The moment she walked into the trial rehearsal, he felt an electricity course through his veins that he's never felt before. He shook it off as a mere, and mild, physical attraction. Then she started to play, and he was taken into a trance by her talent and passion. Then she spoke, and he felt his heart flutter more than ever.
He knows he has a crush, one that he can't talk about or act on, but it doesn't stop the forming of a grin when the horn players walk up onto the stage. It doesn't stop the goosebumps he feels when they all begin to play, being able to pick out the sound of her specific instrument. It doesn't stop the thought that those songs, the ones where they get to be there together, may just be his favorite ones to perform.
So when 'Satellite' ends, and after a good chat with the crowd, reading their signs, the four horn players make their way up the stairs as 'Cinema' begins, causing his heart to flutter and his current smile to stretch out into a wide grin.
When they play an extended introduction for 'Music For A Sushi Restaurant', he takes the opportunity to get some water and give her a quick smile, hoping that he actually does see a blush form on her cheeks, even behind her trumpet.
He stays on the outside of the stage for that song, but gets even more excited when the band begins to play 'Treat People With Kindness'. This means YN will move to one of the outside corners, which also means he'll get to be closer to her as he moves around during the song.
He makes sure to pass by her any chance he gets, but tries hard not to make his intentions too obvious, to the crowd or to YN. She's a part of his band, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, even if she does appear to reciprocate any smile or slightly flirtatious comment he makes. He wants any move made to be on YN's terms. However, that won't stop him from taking this opportunity to share a little dance with her.
"Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it. One, two, three, four!"
As the crowd shouts out the chorus, Harry stations himself next to her, moving his hips side to side, causing her to pull back from her instrument and let out the most amazing laugh.
He's going to do that every time from now on, just so he can hear that again.
That song ends, and she moves into the center with the rest of the horn players, walking through to the other side of the stage as they start their intro for 'What Makes You Beautiful'.
He moves back to the mic stand in front of the walkway, trying to catch glimpses of her every so often, as she stands near the corner to his left.
"I don't know why you're being shy, and turn away when I look into your eyes."
He takes a few steps to his left, pointing his arms out to the fans and encouraging them to sing the bridge.
At that moment, something whizzes over in his direction and lands by his feet. He takes a quick look down, and then to his left, noticing that YN has moved a few feet over to the other side of the stage. He sees Mitch taking a couple of glances over to her as well, mouthing something, but she nods and continues to play.
As the final chorus nears, the four horn players move back to the center of the stage to play the last parts of the song.
He grabs his mic from the stand and engages the crowd, instantly requesting that they applaud for the horn players. He watches as YN gives a wave to the crowd, confused as to why she isn't doing it as vibrant as normal. She could just be tired, though she usually pushes through it, but it's been an intense leg of the tour in Los Angeles.
The time between that and 'Late Night Talking', while Parris plays his beautiful solo, is usually one of his favorite moments, because he has a little bit more time to interact with her on stage. Even if it's only a quick comment or joke, he loves it and takes what he can get. But as he moves closer to grab his water bottle, he sees her talking to Pauli, who swiftly hands her a spare face cloth that he keeps by him.
Harry immediately frowns and quickens his pace over to her.
"What's wrong?"
She wipes herself off and shakes her head, keeping her gaze downward. He can't remember a time where she wasn't happy and bright. But now she looks embarrassed, and sad, which pains him to see.
"Some… something hit me."
"What? Where? How?" He blurts out, not even fully able to process what she is explaining had occurred.
"A fan threw something. I don't know what it was." She sighs, flickering her gaze up to him with a troubling expression across her face.
"Shit. Are you alright?" He steps closer to her, unintentionally placing his hand on the middle of her back, and he feels her shiver under his touch. He removes it, his eyes fixated on her, and he feels some relief when he sees a small smile appear on her face.
"I'll be okay." She assures him. Her trumpet lifts up to her lips, the ones he has wondered what they would feel like against his, and he realizes that Parris has finished his part. "Let's get on with it."
He bites his lower lip as she gives him a wink, and feels a blush form on his own cheeks. If she knew what she does to him, she probably wouldn't be doing that. But he'll take it.
He sings through the second chorus on the closest walkway, still giddy at the fact that he can pick out her trumpet from the others, and he just knows she is swaying back and forth to the lyrics as she always does.
However, he turns around to make his way back, pointing his mic back out to the crowd, and when he sees YN again, she is holding her fingers against the spot over her left eyebrow.
Instantly his chest tightens and he bounces back over there as the song ends. She makes her way back to the center with the others while he takes a quick gulp of water, turning around when they begin to play 'Watermelon Sugar'.
"I'm bleeding." He hears her state to Parris.
"Okay. Go." Parris replies, and Harry follows after her.
"YN." He tries to shout without causing too much of a fuss, but she steps down the stairs, and he clenches his jaw as he watches her make her way backstage.
This isn't good, and he really hopes he can get through this song now.
"Alright, if… if you know this one, please… please do sing along." He stumbles through his words, his eyes still glaring over to the spot where YN exited.
Performing this one isn't as fun this time, though the crowd are probably none the wiser, as he keeps his professionalism as intact as possible. But it is different. She's usually on the walkway in front of him, dancing away as she plays, causing his heart to flutter each time she moves.
He either closes his eyes or moves around the stage a bit, hoping to momentarily distract himself from her, and stay focused on the music. At least to get through the song.
And thankfully he does.
As soon as it ends, the rest of the horn players make their way off the stage, and Harry immediately rushes over to his little setup in front of Pauli.
"Start playing, but I want to talk with the crowd for a moment." He states into the band mic, for only the crew to hear.
They softly play the melody of 'Love of My Life' and he raises his hand as if to signal that he has something to say.
"Thank you Los Angeles, so much, for all of your support. I, more than anyone, know that I couldn't do this without all of you. I hope you have had a great time." The crowd cheers, and stomps, and he responds with some kisses blown around the venue. Then his expression becomes a bit more solemn and he turns back to the mic. "I want to say that my number one priority for everyone here tonight has been safety. That includes everyone on stage as well."
The crowd immediately hushes, which usually doesn't happen without his lead, and it shocks him. But hopefully it means they'll hear his message.
"I always encourage you to dance, sing, and interact. I always suggest that you treat everyone with kindness. And now, I also ask that you please think about these amazing people on stage, and refrain from throwing things that could potentially hurt someone. One of our members was hurt during a song tonight and unfortunately had to leave." He pulls back, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. "We want to be able to keep doing this with you for as long as possible, so we all need to make sure that safety is our top priority. So let's keep it safe and have some more fun. How does that sound, Los Angeles?"
He holds two thumbs up to the fans, swiveling around while everyone begins to cheer again, and walks over to his mic for the next song. The last one before their little break, and before their encore. He'll be done soon.
He knows his energy has diminished a bit, which is fine for 'Love of My Life', because his mind is back on YN. He desperately wants to know if she is okay. Needs to know, at this point.
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During the break before their encore, Harry rushed underneath and pleaded with the crew to find out what had happened to YN, and whether she's being taken care of. They assured him that she is fine, but he couldn't get rid of his worry.
He put on his best entertainer persona for the last three songs, feeding off the excitement of the crowd to get him through until the end.
But once 'Kiwi' was finished, he blew kisses to the fans and sprinted backstage, immediately feeling frantic.
"Jeff-"
"H, man, you doing okay?" His manager asks, concern all over his face.
"Where is YN?" Harry quickly asks, not even bothering to answer about himself.
"Huh?"
"Where's YN? She got hit by something. She had to get off stage. Where'd she go?" He asks, feeling frazzled like he never has before.
"Oh. Uh, I haven't seen her, maybe-"
Harry strides off, not really knowing which direction to head, but willing to walk all over the place to find her.
He sees another familiar face, feeling some hope that she'll have an answer.
"Lorren, where's YN?" He asks, hoping his tone is a bit more calm than it was with Jeff, but knowing he could be failing.
"She's in the common room." Lorren replies, a small smirk forming suddenly. "She's okay, Harry."
His eyes grow wide and he stands up straighter, more stable, more casual. Or at least trying to.
"Yeah. Of course. I just… wanted to check in with her." He utters, but her intrigued, raised eyebrow tells him that she doesn't accept his answer.
"Harry…" She chuckles. "I know you care about her more than that…"
"What? No-... I mean…" He sighs, running a ringed hand through his sweaty hair. "Shit."
Lorren laughs again and she puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Your secret is safe with me."
He nods and feels a hot burn flooding his cheeks, not even attempting to hide it since she clearly knows she's right.
"Does she fee-" He begins, immediately stopping as he sees her pull her lips inward. "Nevermind. Doesn't matter. I'm just… gonna check on her."
Lorren nods and smiles, squeezing his shoulder then pointing down the hallway.
"Good luck…" She teases as she walks away.
"What?"
"Nothing." She replies, already opening the door to another room.
He takes a deep breath and turns back around to the direction he needs to go, his steps faster the closer he gets to the room she is occupying.
He opens the door without hesitation, instantly seeing YN sitting on the sofa with an ice pack held on her face, and her phone in the other hand.
He clears his throat as he takes a few steps towards her, slower than they were in the hallway, and his heart pounds faster than it just had been.
"Hello." He utters, not wanting to startle her. She shoots her gaze up to him and he feels butterflies as she immediately smiles. She may have looked different on stage after the incident, but he is happy to see that her bright demeanor seems to have returned. His concern begins to melt away.
"Hi." She responds, putting her phone down, along with the ice pack. She winces as she does, and as he moves to the sofa, he finally sees the large gash on her forehead.
His heart sinks, and he is thankful for the close proximity to the furniture, because his knees almost give out completely as he takes a seat next to her, on the opposite side of where her cut is.
"Fuck, YN, are you alright?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between her gorgeous, sparkling eyes and her anger-inducing wound. His jaw instantly clenches and his palms ball into fists. He can't believe this happened, especially to her. His gaze drops, and he begins to fill with guilt. "I'm so sorry you got hurt."
Suddenly, he feels the warmth and soft touch of her hand on his, causing the tension in his palms to release right away.
"It's not your fault, H. And I'm okay."
He looks up to her again, being met with the gaze he tries hard not to get lost in, but fails every time he's close enough to see it.
"I just…" He sighs and shakes his head, not entirely sure what he wants to express, and worried it could be more than he should. "I just want to… know that you're alright."
"That's sweet." She utters, a tenderness in her tone. He smiles at the irony of her attempt to calm him, when it should be the other way around. "I am. I am alright."
A squeeze of YN's hand grabs his gaze once again, and he just sits in silence as he, once again, gets lost in her eyes.
His hand unintentionally reaches up, gently resting under her chin as he turns her head to view her wound, sighing once more at the sight of it. His thumb reaches up, gliding over her skin, right under the cut, and a tingle rushes over him.
A strong exhale leaves her mouth and he turns her head back to him, his eyes tracing the lines of her lips. He looks back to her gaze, his breath hitching at her beauty, and his body acts on his feelings as he leans in, gently pressing his lips against her own.
She lets out a small sigh, which snaps him back to reality, and he pulls back.
"Shit. I'm… fuck, I'm sorry." His hand drops and he scoots his body further away from her, feeling every ounce of embarrassment possible. He didn't want to make the first move, if there was even one to be made. What if she didn't want it? What if she hated it? "Fuck."
"Please, don't…" She clears her throat, a sudden timidness in her tone. "Please don't be sorry."
Harry's heart begins to race, and he glances up to see her smile. However, a knock on the half-closed door causes both their heads to turn that way, and they both sit up straighter.
"I finally found a bandaid." A venue staff member states, handing it to YN and walking out.
She begins to open it up, removing the strips and exposing the sticky sides, then looks around the room for a mirror.
"Here." Harry reaches out, grazing her hand, and regaining her attention. "Let me."
She hands him the bandage, and he scoots closer again, their thighs barely touching, but just enough for his stomach to fill with butterflies.
He gently places the band-aid over her cut, gliding his thumb over the corners to make sure they stay secured. His gaze drops down, and his breath hitches as he sees her gazing up to him through her lashes.
His palm slides down and rests on her cheek, and she tilts her head upwards, their lips hovering in front of each other.
"Thank you." She whispers, her own hand placing itself on top of his.
Harry attempts to swallow down the lump stuck in his throat, but is interrupted by the sudden soft pressure against his lips. He lets out a quiet whimper, and her hand moves around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. His mouth begins to move with hers, and the tip of his tongue teases the gap between her lips.
She suddenly pulls away, and a frown forms on his face, until her gaze flickers to the door and he hears the chatter in the hallway that must have caused her to stop.
He pushes back, only out of caution and respect for both of their privacy, and grins when he sees her blush.
"You know, I've had recent experience with eye injuries."
"Right. You have." She giggles.
"If you want… you don't have to… but if you want to, you… you could come to my suite." He clears his throat. "To hang out. And I can keep an eye on that injury for you."
"No pun intended." She laughs, and his grin, surprisingly, grows wider. She's still so bright, and he's already down bad.
"I…" She begins, another blush instantly taking over her delicate skin. "I wouldn't mind seeing you looking at me a little more tonight."
"Oh my god." He breaths out, swiftly throwing his palms over his face.
He feels her fingers wrap around his wrist and removes his hands to find her standing in front of him. She tugs on his arm, and he lifts himself off the chair.
"Then maybe I'll get the chance to do the same." She states, biting her lower lip before letting him go and moving around the room to grab her stuff.
Yeah. He's definitely down bad, and despite her being injured, this just may end up being the best show by far.
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Main Masterlist
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If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx
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Overall: @watermelonsugacry @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @theroosterswife24 @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @qualitygiantshoepsychic @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @fool4him @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @tw1nflamebruis3
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If your name is blue, I couldn't tag you
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cherievol6 · 8 months
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in love in italy
hey!!! long time no see…sorry i’ve been off the grid - i’ve been working loads. i just randomly wrote this (I was feeling very poetic after reading Sally Rooney lmfao) hope you enjoy!
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being with harry in Italy brings on some intense feelings that you just need to confess.
warnings: very brief mentions of sex, other than that it’s absolutely heart wrenching fluff.
word count: ~1k
.
You’ve never felt like this before.
At least, not when you're in the middle of having sex with someone.
This wasn't just someone though, it was Harry.
Sweet and gentle Harry, whom had made everything feel a little bit lighter for you since the moment you met. Here he was, skin so close to yours it felt like he was trying to meld you both together like clay. His head was dipped into your shoulder, his breaths heaving but blissful. You felt like a pot of boiling sugar bubbling up to a gooey caramel and oozing into the bed below you. He made you feel as though one look from him or one kiss from him would make you shed every negative piece of your mind.
"You okay? You're awfully quiet after that." He half laughs, referring to the intense scene of love that was just displayed in the early hours of the morning, in a random villa in Italy. You’d woken up to get a glass of water and returned to bed to find Harry awake. A quick good night kiss turned into wandering hands and clothes being stripped to the floor. It wasn't quick, or impatient, the way you'd held eachother. It was intense, and thick and heavy — like there was something lingering for the two of you. You feel a few tears slip to yours ears and on to the pillows. Harry still hasn't noticed, gently stroking the leg around his waist. You scratch your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath.
You always found it hard to hold in your cries, since you were small. They swelled your chest like a balloon, and with a sharp gasp of breath the balloon pops and Harry's snapping his head up quickly and brushing your hair out of your face.
"Woah, woah. What's wrong?" His voice is panicked and you don't find yourself trying to avoid his gaze, which is strange. You don't feel upset, you feel overwhelmed. Harry always said it scared him how every time you looked at him it felt like you were reading his mind.
You wipe the sweat from your brow, the warm room making you feel flushed. Or was it this nagging urge to tell Harry something you’d kept to yourself for so long, out of fear of scaring him off so early in your relationship.
You smile, and he must think you look manic, grin growing the more you look at him, his constant over concern for you, like he couldn’t bear to think of anything bad happening to you.
“I feel good.” You say quietly, running your thumb over his mole next to his mouth.
“Yeah? That’s good.” He kisses you softly.
“Do you feel good?” He nods at your question without hesitation.
His eyes seem to gloss over akin to yours, and the words are literally behind your teeth when he says, “Always when I’m with you. You make me feel so safe. I can’t describe it-”
“I love you so much, Harry.” The tears are no longer tears, rather streams of saltiness that saturate your hair and Harry’s hands. He seems to deposit the last of the air in his lungs before he can speak again. Like your words winded him.
“You love me?” His voice is timid, and his hand is now shaking.
“You know that thing, where people paint in acrylic on a canvas, and it looks good, but kind of dull? A bit moody?” Harry nods, with a small smile creeping up his face. You always were one for the metaphor, “and then they paint it with that shimmery gloss and it makes the painting look so different. Like it’s brand new, and you’re finally seeing it in its best form? That’s how you make me feel. I wasn’t bad before, I just needed something…or someone to make me more vibrant. You do that for me. And I love you for it.”
He laughs, and the movement makes his tears fall out of his eyes and on to your cheeks. You are the most emotionally intelligent person he’s ever met in his life and he can’t believe that you’re in love with him.
“You always come up with the most beautiful metaphors...” he kisses you again, like staring at your face for too long brings on the urge to just devour you whole. “I genuinely think my entire life was created to coexist with yours, and just hear every piece of your mind that you’ll let me.”
You pull him down again and kiss him again. You were insatiable for his kisses, they were like oxygen for you. He’s still crying, and you’re still crying, and all you can hear around you is his heavy heartbeat and the owls in the trees around you. Your favourite place to be with Harry was in his Italian house. It felt like no one in the world existed or cared about the two of you when you were within these walls.
“I love you. I have done for months and I will do for a lifetime. Okay?” His brows are pinched together, in a sincere and reassuring way. Like he needs you to know that he’s not going anywhere.
“Okay.” You smile widely, until your cheeks hurt and your eyes wrinkle. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Now that it’s out in the air it feels like the only form of communication between you both in this moment. Harry rocks against your hips and kisses your neck, and you begin to breathe shallow. You whine when he connects your lips again.
“Show me how much you love me, H.”
.
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satanhalsey · 2 years
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IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK; SINCE FOREVER.
this took me ages so never underestimate instagram concept writers, i hope you like it and don't forget to leave feedback cause i'm soooo prouddd! <3 ( harry's masterlist ; since forever p1, since forever p2 )
AUGUST 16:
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A couple of months ago, the wife and photographer of the superstar Harry Styles declared on her social media that she would take some time without taking photos of her husband in the middle of his concerts (but she would continue with the ones from behind it). But that wasn't all, Y/N Y/L/N Styles (28) was stopped seeing so often by fans, now enjoying the shows on the side of the stage so as not to draw too much attention, and sometimes not even showing up.
This raised suspicions of a possible breakup and divorce between the couple, since it's rare that they aren't seen together or interacting, since they have been doing it since Styles (he) was part of One Direction.
They both keep talking about each other, and she keeps posting photos of him she took on her photography account, but we think it's just a game to keep the world from talking about their divorce.
So, ladies, get ready because it looks like Harry Styles is finally single for the first time since we've known him!
E!NEWS © 2022
A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO:
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liked by 1k accounts
ltupdates: LOUIS AND Y/N TODAY AT THE ITALY AIRPORT!!!!!!
louisfan1: SHE'S GONNA BE THERE FOR HIS LAST CONCERT.
louisfan2: I WANT A BESTIE LIKE Y/N.
louisfan3: crying.
louisfan4: Why does she have to be everywhere.
louisfan5: LOUISY/N SUPREMACY.
louisfan6: this makes sense after that e!news article.
louisfan7: @/louisfan6 Do you really believe a word they say? lol
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liked by 2,3k accounts
ltourupdates: Louis at tonight's show looking for Y/N and talking about her!!
"My best friend Y/N's here tonight! she's been putting up with me for years if you know what I mean... I just wanted to say a massive thank you to her for being here tonight, everyone please make some noise for Y/N Y/L/N!"
louisfan1: he loves her so much <3
louisfan2: i want this friendship pls 😭
louisfan3: Y/N PLEASE MAKE THAT 1D REUNION HAPPEN.
louisfan4: the fact that she SCREAMED the bigger than me lyrics... same sis.
louisfan5: @/louisfan4 she's one of us.
YESTERDAY:
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liked by 2k accounts
wownews: Harry Styles and wife and personal photographer Y/N Y/L/N Styles seen together at Venice for the Venice Film Festival.
harryfan1: WE FINALLY SEE THEM TOGETHER AGAIN.
harryfan2: @/harryfan1 IK RIGHT? WITH Y/N'S BREAK WE NO LONGER SEE HER IN CONCERTS :(
harryfan3: @/harryfan1 @/harryfan2 Does anyone know what's the reason for her break?
harryfan1: @/harryfan2 @/harryfan3 Nop !
harryfan4: HER STYLE 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩
harryfan5: omg the baggy clothes are back 💓
harryfan6: People died.
harryfan7: SHE'S GOING TO THE FESTIVAL W HIM????????!!!!!!
harryfan8: @/harryfan7 she's not! probably staying in the hotel 😕
harryfan7: @/harryfan8 the last time yn didn't walk a red carpet with harry was the dunkirk one because anne went with him, this must be serious...
TODAY:
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liked by 1k accounts
ynandharryupdates: Y/N and Saturn on her instagram story confirming rumors that she won't be attending the Don't Worry Darling red carpet!
harryfan1: this is so sad i was expecting content from my fav couple 🥺
harryfan2: i love saturn he's da best
harryfan3: I need to know the reason behind this asap
harryfan4: she's probably tired bc of all this days out partying with louis 🤣
harryfan5: GUYS HARRY JUST ARRIVED THE FESTIVAL GO CHECK TWITTER!!!!
harryfan6: @/harryfan5 whAT
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liked by 3k accounts
hsupdates: Harry talking about Y/N today at the Venice Film Festival:
"Well, uh, my wife is not coming because she just wanted to take a break from all the cameras and I think it's totally fine. I'm the one who has to live with it, not her. But, yeah, she's probably watching this while taking care of our baby– Hi love!"
harryfan1: I LOVE HOW THEY SAY THAT SATURN IS THEIR BABY!!! WKLWKTLKKWKSJS
harryfan2: BABY SATURN 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
harryfan3: what if they're talking about A baby..?
harryfan4: @/harryfan3 don't joke like that girl.
harryfan5: I LOVE THEM FUCK E!NEWS AND ANYONE WHO REALLY THOUGHT THAT THEY BROKE UP THEY'RE LITERALLY MORE IN LOVE THAN EVER AND HAVE A BABY KITTY NAMED SATURN BECAUSE OF TAYLOR SWIFT'S SONG !
harryfan6: @/harryfan5 u ok
harryfan5: @/harryfan6 NO
harryfan7: Can we please talk about Olivia's face when he started talking about Y/N 💀💀💀💀
HOURS LATER...
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AND, FINALLY:
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liked by 7k accounts
harrymybeloved: HARRY AND Y/N AT THE PREMIERE OF DON'T WORRY DARLING!!!!!!!! SHE'S PREGNANT 😭😭😭😭😭😭 HARRY'S GONNA BE A DAD!
harryfan1: I CANNOT EXPLAIN THE SHOUT THAT CAME OUT OF ME
harryfan2: I'M FUCMIGMR CRYING
harryfan3: LOOK AT THAT LITTLE BUMP OMG 🥺
harryfan4: we've lost him.
harryfan5: @/harryfan4 he was never ours.
harryfan6: DILF & MILF.
harryfan7: AND SHE HAD THE AUDACITY TO PRETEND SHE WASN'T COMING ????????? I LOVE HER BYE.
harryfan8: 4/5 ONE DIRECTION BOYS ARE FATHERS.
harryfan9: PLEASE GUYS YOU HAVE TO WATCH THE RED CARPET VIDEOS HARRY CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS OFF OF HER AND HE'S SO SMILEY
harryfan10: BEST. SURPRISE. EVER.
harryfan11: SO HE WASN'T TALKING ABOUT SATURN WHEN HE SAID "OUR BABY" ????????
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liked by 2k accounts
harrysupdates: "We thought we had to be honest and we needed to get it off our chests. We couldn't take it anymore, we're having a baby! Doesn't that sound amazing? I still can't believe it, she chose me, you know?" — Harry talking about Y/N and their baby today at the Don't Worry Darling premiere ❤️ (he was also looking at her while speaking).
harryfan1: he loves her as much as the first day...
harryfan2: Now this, this is real love.
harryfan3: OH TO BE CARRYING HARRY STYLES CHILD.
harryfan4: still shaking
harryfan5: ok but florence touching her belly??? i love them <3
harryfan6: I WANT TO REINCARNATE AS THAT BABY.
harryfan7: 2022 is their year.
AFTER THE PREMIERE...
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liked by annetwist, louist91, and 7M other people
harrystyles: BABY STYLES. JANUARY 2023.
harryfan1: SHE'S ALMOST FIVE MONTHS 💔💔💔
yourinstagram: WHY DO YOU ANNOUNCE THEM AS IF THEY WERE A SINGLE HARRY.
harrystyles: @/yourinstagram I don't know about a single, but I'm going to write a whole album about them, that's for sure.
harryfan2: @/harrystyles @/yourinstagram MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS.
harryfan3: He's gonna be the best dad ever :(
louist91: Finally the world sees my godson/daughter!!!! Love you lads!
harryfan4: @/louist91 LOUIS IS THE GODFATHER KSKLENPEIEKYMEKT STOP THIS MADNESS
annetwist: My babies are having a baby 🥰❤️
zayn: I don't know about the rest but I'm the godfather of that baby 😆
harryfan5: Y/N HARRY IS A DILF THANKS TO YOU.
yourinstagram: @/harryfan6 always a pleasure 😌
gemmastyles: I'm crying, my little bro is not so little anymore.
niallhoran: The secret's out! 💖
taylorswift: PREPARING THE SEWING NEEDLES!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
harryfan6: @/taylorswift OMFG TAYLOR
harryfan7: @/taylorswift Y/N'S GONNA FREAK OUT.
yourinstagram: @/taylorswift LOVE YOU FOREVER 🤍 PROMISE YOU MY CHILD WILL HAVE THE BEST MUSIC TASTE EVER.
harry_lambert: 🐇❤️
harryfan8: September 5 2022 you will be remembered as the best day ever.
florencepugh: milf material.
yourinstagram: baby daddy, we love you so much ❤️‍🩹
harrystyles: @/yourinstagram Stoooop, you're making me blush. I love you both so much. Xxx.
━━━━━━━
remember when i said that everything would be a secret and y/n wouldn't assist to the red carpet? well, i lied 😌 tbh this was an unexpected thought but i love how everything turned out, except that i wanted to put more photos but the limit of the app didn't let me so there will probably be a second part.
please leave feedback, see you in the cheating!harry one shot :)
love u guys, uma ♡
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jarritomylob · 7 months
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Masterlist recs pt.2
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Hello!! A 2nd part to great writers here in tumblr :) masterlists below:
@stylesswrites
Masterlist
@gucciwins
Masterlist
@avatar-anna
Masterlist
@astranva
Masterlist
@glitteredrry
Masterlist
@loveontourlove
Masterlist
@hes-writer
Masterlist
@harryimaginedstories
Masterlist
@satanhalsey
Masterlist
@secret-rendezvous1d
Masterlist
@watermelonsugacry
Masterlist
@musicforastylesrestaurant
Masterlist
@gucciharrywritings
Masterlist
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gurugirl · 9 days
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 3
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Summary: You get to try things with Harry you never had the chance to before but the more you get to know him the more of him you want. And that's a problem.
A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 4 will be posted here in one week.
Word Count: 8.3k
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Part 3 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including spitting, spanking, use of toys, a leash, & anal with a dildo), daddy kink, unwanted feelings of attachment, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics
ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist
. . .
Harry thought he’d feel more guilty once the reality of what he was doing hit him. Fucking his son’s ex-girlfriend. But instead, he only felt delighted that you were even interested. He was disappointed in Tyler, to be honest. The more he learned about how he’d treated you, the less Harry was worried about what Tyler might think. His son never deserved you.
And he wasn’t just excited that he had an open invitation for kinky hot sex with a lovely young woman who wanted to learn the ropes but he was also excited because you were sweet and he trusted you. You trusted him just the same which was why it was such a fantastic arrangement.
When he saw your text the moment he left your apartment - Can you come over tonight? He couldn’t stop grinning to himself all day.
So he packed a bag on the off chance you’d want him to stay the whole weekend, and he had a few things he wanted to bring that he could introduce you to.
You were already raring to go the moment you let him into your apartment. You wanted to try so many things and get started right away but Harry had other plans as he pulled you in by your neck and planted a big kiss on your lips as he dropped his leather duffel bag by the front door.
“Let’s talk first. Okay? Remember I told you we’d go over rules and boundaries? We still need to do that.” He pushed you toward your couch, walking you backward with his hand wrapped around the front of your throat.
That gesture of dominance alone had you hot. And Harry could tell you liked it.
You both sat on your couch, “Sorry. Just got so excited. I trust whatever you like and want to try.”
Harry grinned, “I’m excited too,” he softly smoothed his hand up your thigh, “Just want to get a few things out of the way first and then we can get to it.”
You nodded and angled yourself toward him, “Okay. You’re right.”
“I know I am,” he squeezed your thigh, “How was work?”
You laughed, “Work? Is that what you want to talk about?”
Harry sighed and sat back against the cushion, “Yeah. Why not? Are you in a hurry and suggesting we don’t have time to talk about how our day was?”
“No. I didn’t mean that. I’m not in a hurry. Just thought… I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I think it would be nice to talk. I didn’t really know what to expect when you got here I guess.”
“Well, let’s start with this,” he rubbed his hand over the top of your thigh in this way that had you feeling a little calmer. “So tell me how your day was.”
You recounted various parts of your day, but nothing that was particularly interesting. The most fascinating thing had been Harry, obviously. And now he was sitting on your couch with a hand on your thigh and his eyes searing into you.
“And what about you? How was your day?” You hesitantly put your hand over Harry’s and began to play with his rings.
“Normal. Except for the little secret I carried with me all day. Couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How do you feel about everything?”
You lifted your bum to tuck your leg underneath yourself and licked your lips, “Well… I liked everything you did. I had a lot of fun. I want more.”
Harry watched you wiggle and adjust your seating with a smirk, “Okay. We can do more. Are you feeling sad about Tyler or anything like that?”
You shook your head, “No. Absolutely not. I think you kind of erased him from my mind. It’s already better with you.”
He nodded, “Cause if we keep seeing each other, at some point, there’s a chance he’s going to find out. If I have you over one night I’m not gonna want you to keep quiet,” he brought a hand up to your jaw, “I don’t want to rub it in his face or anything, but we can only keep so quiet can’t we?”
You grinned and nodded. Just the thought of your ex hearing his dad fucking you made you wet. What was wrong with you?
“Let’s talk about using colors for things you like and don’t like. Yeah?”
You nodded again.
“Green means you like everything I’m doing. With no hesitation. I’ll ask you occasionally what your color is and if you’re green we’ll keep going. Understood?”
Another nod of your head as you kept your eyes pinned to his.
“Good. Yellow and red will stop everything. For yellow, if you ever feel like you might not like something but you aren’t sure, that’s yellow. We’ll talk about it and change it up if we need to or explore it more if you want. You need to say yellow if you ever get to the point of being unsure and you don’t need to wait for me to check in. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Now red means we’re done with the session. That means I’ve gone too far and didn’t pay attention to your cues. We’ll discuss what went wrong and we’ll never do it again. It means you unquestionably did not like something and that it’s not something you ever want to try again. You’ll say red even if I don’t check in if you get to this point. However, we want to avoid red. That’s what yellow is for. Red means we’re not in synch and this won’t work if we’re not communicating. Makes sense?”
You nodded again.
“Now, explain to me what your colors mean. I want to make sure you understand it clearly so there’s no confusion when it’s needed.”
You cleared your throat and spoke, with as much confidence as you could muster. You already knew about the traffic light system but you’d never been in a relationship where it was going to be used. You appreciated Harry’s thoroughness.
“Green means all good and that I like what’s happening. If something doesn’t feel as good that I want to come back to later or like… I’m not sure if I enjoy it I’ll say yellow. And red means I don’t like something. I’ll tell you my color when you check in but if I feel yellow or red I’ll tell you right away without waiting for you to check. And… red is something we want to avoid,” you licked your lips and nodded.
“Very good. Anything you want to ask or say before we get started? I can just feel the excitement bubbling off of you honey.”
You laughed and looked down at your lap before tilting your head back up to look at him, “I just want you to kind of lead. I loved giving you a blow job last night. I want more of that. Want it like… maybe, even more rough today. I just want to feel like,” you puffed out an embarrassed laugh, “Want to feel like I’m being used. Kind of like you need to teach me a lesson or something. Like I’ve been bad.”
“Oh yeah? You like to be punished then? Maybe you want Daddy to tell you how bad you’ve been? What a naughty girl you are. Only way to set you straight is to fuck your face and spank your ass?” He had a teasing grin on his face.
You swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. Exactly.” You ran your hand up his thigh and kept your eyes on his.
“Do you feel like only good girls get to have orgasms, Y/n?”
You nodded again, “Yeah. Only when I’m good I’m allowed.”
Harry grinned and hummed, “I think I see. Go into your bedroom and take all of the toys out that you like to use on yourself. Line them up on your bed for me so I can take count.”
You got up from the couch and Harry followed you to your bedroom and watched as you pulled a large box from your dresser and then laid it on your bed.
Removing each of your toys and placing them on your comforter.
There was your basic silicon dildo, then the slim one you used on yourself for anal. You had three plugs in different sizes, a clit sucker that had lost charge the last time you used it, a normal-sized purple vibrator, a massaging wand (that was meant to be a back massager but you’d never used it for its intended purpose) then a tiny pocket vibrator you’d only used a handful of times. Plus condoms, lube, and a leather strap that could double as a collar and leash in one.
Harry watched you straighten out everything and picked up the leather strap, “Is this a leash?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I bought it last year but I’ve never used it. Thought it would be fun to try but… well I didn’t want to use it alone in case something went wrong.”
He nodded and kept the leather in his hands as he looked at everything else you had lined up.
“Good. This is excellent. You’ve got some great toys here. Which is your favorite?”
You laughed and ran your hands over the basic vibrator, “I love this. It just vibrates my insides and it’s quiet so I can use it even if my roommate is home. Also this,” you picked up your clit sucker, “It works super fast. Can make me come in like two minutes if I’m in a hurry.”
Harry smiled and took the clit sucker from you to click it on but it was dead.
“Oh… it ran out of charge. I use it a lot.”
He dropped it on your bed and looked you up and down, “Bet you do. Poor thing didn’t ever get her pussy licked properly. Had to take care of herself. But Daddy’s here for that now. Isn’t he?”
You watched his jaw clench as he stepped directly in front of you and he cupped your chin in his palm as you nodded.
“Anything else you use that isn’t here?”
It was like he could read your mind somehow. Like he could see it on your face that you had a little secret.
You nodded and felt your face heat up, “Yeah. One more thing.”
Harry cocked his head, “And where is it?”
You laughed quietly and looked away from his eyes, “It’s in my… bottom.”
He released your face and took a step back, “Get your clothes off.”
You pulled your shirt off quickly and then your pants before moving your hands up to the band of your bra to take it off. You watched Harry closely as you removed every article of fabric that covered you until your panties were on the floor and you were standing naked before him.
“Well? Are you going to show me willingly or do you need me to force you to bend over so I can see what it is you have tucked in your bum?”
Harry knew very well what you had inside of your ass. You had a fourth plug and he wanted to see it. Liked that you’d put it in when you knew he was coming over. You were indeed a dirty little thing and he was going to have a lot of fun with you.
This was what you liked. It’s what you had been wanting. Something about his tone made it clear that he was in charge. The spike of adrenaline that notched its way up every vertebra in your spine gave you a disjointed, hazy sensation that spread over your limbs.
You turned and stepped in toward your bed before leaning down to press your palms onto the mattress next to your bottle of lube. You turned to look over your shoulder at the man who was right behind you, towering over you as he laid his palms on your hips and glued his eyes to the space between your legs and then just up to where you had the prettiest of your anal plugs snuggled tight in your bum.
Harry’s eyes shot to yours and you felt one of his hands drag up your spine to the back of your neck and he pressed your cheek down into the mattress, “When did you put this in?”
“I… after I got home from work today. Two hours ago.”
His hand stayed at the back of your neck as you felt his other hand move toward your bottom and then tap the pink glass plug making you jump, “And why did you put it in?”
“Wanted it to be pretty for you.” You gulped down your saliva and tried peeking at him from your peripheral but it was impossible.
“For me? Well, that was awfully sweet of you. And how did you do it? What is your method of putting one of these in?” He gently twisted the glass a half turn and you moaned.
“Uh… I work myself up thinking about something sexy. Finger myself a little bit and then put lube over everything and slowly twist it in until it’s fit inside.”
“And what did you think about this time that got you all worked up?” His voice was suddenly closer and you could see the outline of him leaning over your back.
You closed your eyes as you felt the fabric of his pants brush against the back of your thighs, “You, Daddy.”
Harry hummed in satisfaction as he let go of the back of your neck, and you felt both of his hands on your ass, keeping you spread for him.
“Has anyone else ever seen how pretty you look with one of these in?”
“No. It’s always just been in private.” You don’t think you’d ever felt in such a vulnerable position with a man before. To have someone standing behind you in your bedroom while you were bent over naked showing him your pink glass anal plug made your skin heat up all over.
“So I’m the first person who’s been given permission to see you like this?”
“Yes. You’re the first.”
“And what should we do with this right now? Hmm? You’re being such a good girl for Daddy I think it’s only fair you choose what’s next.”
You already knew what you wanted. It was all you could think about the whole day. At work, while you ate lunch, on the way home… You wanted his cock down your throat again.
“I want you to fuck my face. Please.”
Harry laughed and you felt him move away, his hands no longer on you anymore, “Is that so? Couldn’t get enough of my cock down your throat, baby?”
You shook your head no with your cheek still smushed in the comforter, “No. I need more. I want to try to be better.”
You heard Harry remove his belt and watched it drop onto the mattress as the buckles clanked together before the sound of a zipper and then fabric hitting the ground had you straining to see behind you.
“Good girls get what they want, Y/n. And since you’re practically being an angel I’ll fuck your face if that’s what you want. Turn around to face me.”
You stood up and faced Harry, noticing he was naked now, his thickened cock in his palm, as he placed his free hand at the back of your head and ran his lips over yours for a moment, mouths slotting together until he broke the kiss and let go of the back of your head, “Pick up the leather strap and get on your knees.”
A small grin quirked up on your face as you did as he said and lowered to your floor, your knees digging into your cotton rug with the leather strap in your hands.
He reached down to tilt your face upward, “Look at this pretty face and those soft lips,” he cooed at you as he pushed at your bottom lip with his thumb, “You sure you want this? Because when I’m done with you you’re gonna have tears running down your cheeks and drool dripping from your swollen lips down your chin. Bruised knees and maybe a bruised throat even. It’s gonna make it hard for you to talk.”
You nodded and tightened your grip on the strap as you looked from his dick to his face, “I want it, Daddy.”
He looked over your face with an amused smile on his lips and bent down to press his lips to yours, “Then Daddy wants it too.”
Harry reached his palm down for the leather strap and wrapped the material around your neck, hooking the thin leather into a notch that was tight, but not so tight you’d lack oxygen.
With his hand stroking his cock right in front of your face he pulled the strap back making your head tilt with it, “Color?”
Your eyes wobbled from the tight fist he had around the strap to his eyes, “Very green.”
Harry gave you a dimpled grin that felt so much sweeter than the moment called for, “Very green.  Good.”
He pulled at the strap, moving your face to his cock, “Get it nice and wet. Want to see that tongue cover every inch of my cock before you’re allowed to suck on it.”
Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue you began to lap at the skin along his length. Pushing saliva out of your mouth and pressing it over his cock slowly as you kept your eyes up toward his and you could feel the strap pulling at your neck, guiding you along his shaft.
You moaned when you flattened your tongue over his slit and his mouth parted. Even though he didn’t make any noises to indicate he liked it, you could see it on his face.
With every line and curve of his cock wetted, he dragged you back to his tip, pressing it to your lips, “Time to suck now, Y/n. Still want Daddy to fuck your throat?”
You nodded, your lips brushing over his ruddy crown, “Yes.”
“You won’t be able to speak once I’m sliding into the back of your throat,” his finger squeezed the outsides of your neck around the strap, “So you need to pinch me here,” he took your hand and made you hold onto his sturdy thigh, “Do you understand?”
Another nod as you kept your eyes on his.
“Give it a test pinch. Let me see what you’ll do if you need air or need me to stop.”
You pinched his skin under your thumb and pointer finger but Harry tutted at you, “Harder. I need you to be serious about the way you do this so I can feel it, honey. When my balls are tucked against your chin and you’re swallowing around me I’m not gonna feel a puny pinch like that. Try again.”
You puffed out a breath and pinched harder. A pinch you knew he’d feel without question.
“There you go. That’s the one. Stung like a fucker. You ready, baby?”
You smiled, “Ready, Daddy.”
Harry softly shook his head as he looked at you proudly before he forced your mouth back against his tip and the moment you parted your lips he was yanking you down his cock. He didn’t push his whole length in on the first go but he did get deep enough that your eyes widened and you pulled in a deep breath through your nose to prepare for the next thrust.
And the next one was the same; deep but not punishing. And then the third until you’d figured out the rhythm and your tongue cradled the underside of his cock and he let out a deep breath that had you feeling pleased with yourself.
When you felt him slide deeper and your sinuses stung your mouth began to water involuntarily. His deep breaths turned into pants as he kept his hand tight around the strap to hold you in place and he started to thrust deeper.
“Fuckin’ so pretty for me, baby,” he spoke as he looked down at you, hips rocking smoothly, slowly getting you ready for what was to come. “Already drooling and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
You couldn’t help the saliva that was dripping out of your mouth. His cock sliding over your tongue and nudging at the roof of your mouth activated your salivary glands.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked as you peeked up at him.
“Take a deep breath in through your nose,” he spoke.
You sucked oxygen into your lungs as he slid his tip back to your lips and then the sudden plunge of his cock over your tongue had you immediately gagging. With your neck held in place, Harry bucked his hips into your mouth and you felt him curve down your throat, and again, and again.
You began to sputter as you felt tears slip down your cheeks and then suddenly his hips were pressed against you as he rocked in and moaned loudly. You couldn’t breathe as you gagged around him, your natural reflex was to swallow and gurgle.
But it was his deep guttural moan that kept you focused. You were making him feel good. And that was all you wanted.
“That’s it, isn’t it? Like how it feels don’t you, little girl?”
You moaned and tried to look up at him but your eyes were bleary and all you could see was the skin on his hips and the dark ink of his laurel tattoos as he continued pressing you down on him.
“Bet your little plug is feeling so good too… fuck…” Harry pulled himself back as you coughed and a gush of spit dripped down your chin and to the floor.
He chuckled when you tried to tilt forward to put him back in your mouth, “Go on then. Suck Daddy off. Just so desperate to gag on it aren’t you?”
You moaned as you curved your tongue under his cock and lowered yourself. Harry let you take the reins for a bit as you forced your mouth down and felt his tip press past your tonsils and you gagged again with your eyes tightly squeezed shut.
The only thing you had on your brain was to get him off. To please him. You wanted him to come more than you wanted to rub your own clit to get yourself off.
Every time you dipped down and the deeper you went the further away any other thoughts became. Everything was all about getting him to come.
Harry grunted and then you felt the strap pulling at your neck again to hold you in place as he began to fuck himself down your throat.
His cock was already twitching at the way your mouth engulfed him in wet heat, the way your throat constricted around his tip and frenulum every time you gagged and swallowed. His heart was pounding the closer he got to his own release and he recognized you were taking him like a pro. Like you’d been choking on cocks for years. It’d been a long time since anyone he’d been with liked this sort of thing.
And you loved it.
With your palms on his muscled thighs, the gargled noises coming from your mouth, the drool on the floor, and your pussy slippery wet you moaned deeply around him as more tears fell down your skin and mixed with the saliva leaking from your lips.
He pulled back again, letting you suck in just enough air so he could do it all over again. When you felt the thatch of his hair pressing into your nose, the leather strap pinching the skin on your neck as you were held in place, he groaned and you could feel his thighs begin to tremble just before he pulled his cock all the way out of your mouth.
You gasped and coughed as you leaned forward, spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a puddle on your rug.
The nip of the strap on your neck had you looking up at him through wet lashes and then you felt his hands under your arms helping you stand on wobbly legs, “Color?”
You heaved and grasped onto his arms, “Green.”
“Good. I’m gonna finish off inside of your pretty pussy. How’s that sound?”
You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.” You were somewhat knocked off kilter from the sudden change in position as he pushed you onto the bed, making you bend over for him on your hands and knees with your feet hanging off.
He took your hips in his hands and stood behind you, his feet on the floor as you automatically pressed your face into the comforter. You felt the spray of spit over your pussy and you moaned as you arched your back and pushed your bum back toward him.
His hands smoothed down to your ass and you felt his thumb press on the glass piece sticking out of your bum, “Look at how soaked you are, baby. You really do like sucking cock don’t you?”
You smiled and sighed, “Yes. Love it, Daddy.”
Harry grinned, though you couldn’t see it as he painted his thick crown through your puffy folds, slicking himself back and forth, “Fuck yourself on it. Get yourself off on my cock.”
You felt him poking at your entrance so you pressed yourself back as Harry kept his length steady in his hand.
“There you go, baby, just like that. Let me see you work for it, honey.”
You swiveled your hips and pushed yourself down further, feeling his girth open you up.
Harry pressed into you, holding you tight by your hips and then he pushed you further into the bed making you scoot up a few feet. He followed behind you spreading his thighs and getting onto his knees behind you, “Keep going, baby.”
When you felt his hand press at the back of your neck to keep you down you moaned and began to swivel your hips. And even though you were supposed to be the one fucking yourself on him, you could feel his subtle thrusts, working himself into you deeper with his thighs.
The little plug was a tight squeeze in your ass with his cock inside of you but it felt so good. Every movement of your hips made the plug shift slightly and even Harry could feel the hard glass pressing through your anus against his cock in your pussy.
The cry that fell from your mouth when he began twisting the plug inside of you had him chuckle, “You okay, Y/n?”
You whimpered a yes as you continued circling your hips, pressing your cunt over his cock wetly.
But then suddenly Harry let go of your neck and you felt both of his hands on your ass as he held you still and began fucking himself into you.
The switch in sensation had your body tingling as he dipped in so far you felt the wind punched from your lungs.
Harry’s own moans grew louder and more desperate with each strike of his hips against your ass but then he leaned over your back and you felt his fingers sliding through your crease until he bumped into your clit and ran the pads of his fingers in circles against your neglected nub.
You gasped at the relief as Harry rocked inward, his hips pasted to your ass.
“Daddy it’s so deep!” You whimpered with his cock fully impaled into your cunt. He couldn’t have been deeper if he tried.
“I know baby,” he inhaled breathily with a moan as he continued pressing in, in, in… his back and his thighs flexing with every push.
He wasn’t going hard but he was achingly deep with his fingers at your clit and the plug tight in your bum, everything felt just right. But when you felt his lips on your neck you began to quiver and you could feel that yummy sparkle start to spread over your thighs and through your core.
His breath against the shell of your ear sent chills down your neck and over your shoulders as your body began to tense and your walls gripped his cock tightly.
“You need to come, baby? Yeah? It’s feeling so good, isn’t it?”
Your mouth dropped open as you choked out a pathetic wail, “Oh my god! Yes!”
When your pussy began to spasm over him he groaned at the feel of you coming, “There we go… Can’t help yourself, can you? Know you never had it like this before, honey. Your pussy deserves to feel so good,” Harry’s words fell over your neck and you could hear how far gone he was as he babbled filth into your ear, “Needed Daddy’s cock to make it better, yeah?”
You couldn’t answer as you clenched the blankets in your fists and your body shivered in your orgasm.
“Fuck baby… squeezing around me so good,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “Gonna stuff your little fertile pussy full of my come, okay?”
You whined an obnoxiously loud Yes, Daddy! into the room and you heard him cough out a deep groan before his cock began to pump and throb inside of you. Your own orgasm still making your pussy clench around him tightly, milking his shaft and sucking him dry.
Harry rocked into you and fucked you forward, making you flatten to the bed as he finished himself inside you just like he said he was going to do.
You panted in deep breaths as he kissed your shoulder blades and he shifted behind you, “You okay, Y/n?”
You sputtered out a small laugh and smiled, “So fucking good.”
Harry pulled his cock from you and rolled you to your back. You felt him unhooking the strap around your neck and pulling it from you as you opened your eyes to look up at him. Lifting a hand to press over his heart you sighed, “Thank you.”
Harry paused and settled his gaze on yours as one side of his mouth curved up in a soft smile, “So sweet,” he brought a hand up to your cheek, “Thank you, Y/n.”
He helped you clean up as you laid flat on your back, still out of it, but with an easy smile on your face, “How was that?”
“Harry, that was… it was so good. I want more, though. Harder too.”
He laughed as he lay on his side next to you and smoothed his palm over your belly and squeezed at your tits, “Understood. We can try a few new things next time. See what else you like. We just want to ease into this, though. Okay?”
You nodded as you smiled at him. This was something else you loved. The way he was with you after sex. Tyler didn’t bother with you once he’d gotten off. But Harry seemed to enjoy basking with you after.
“Did you eat before I came over?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes before shaking your head, “I don’t usually eat dinner until later and you got here before my usual dinner time.”
You felt Harry’s thumb press over your hardened nipple, “I see. Well, we need to make sure we’re eating, don’t we? Let’s go get you some food.”
. . .
“Harry please?!” You were trying to be patient with his rule of slowly introducing things but he insisted on not diving right into everything. You wanted him to fuck your ass.
You woke up that morning with Harry’s hard cock pressing into your bottom. So you slid yourself up and down his shaft until he woke up completely and he slowly fucked you with his arms wrapped tight around your middle and his chest pressed into your back lying on your sides, your pussy filled with him until you were both coming in that sleepy, early morning daze.
Harry laughed from behind you after he’d just filled you with his come, “I just made you come, Y/n,” he still had you in his arms as he spoke against your neck from behind.
“I want you inside of my ass. You wouldn’t do it yesterday. Only put your fingers in. I want to feel your big cock, Daddy.”
Harry did love how much you liked sex but sometimes it did come as a surprise. A puff of his breath hit the shell of your ear, “Well right now I’m not physically able to anyway. Need to recover for a while because I just came. But I can give you something else. We can use your dildo if you want. How does that sound?”
You pouted but you knew better than to complain. Harry had already shown you so much in such a short span of time. It was Sunday morning and you two had been enjoying each other all weekend, getting to know one another.
“Okay.”
Harry released you from his arms and you jumped when his palm landed down on your sore bottom, “Hands and knees.”
You adjusted yourself as he asked and watched him hop off your bed to open up your box of toys. He picked up the slim anal dildo and your regular-sized silicon dildo before kneeing up behind you and placing his palms over your bottom. You felt the cool wetness from the lube he poured over your ass and then felt his fingers pressing it gently inside of you, making you push back into his hand.
“Want one here, and here?” He poked at your pussy entrance with his free hand, “Or just anal right now?”
You turned to look at him behind you, “Maybe just the one for now. My pussy is so sensitive after everything we did yesterday.” You laughed.
Harry grinned at you and nodded, “Fair enough.”
He started by fingering you. It was slow and he moved his free hand over your bum softly, “Probably gonna get rock hard again just watching this. So pretty back here. Little pussy dripping with my come, your ass opening up for my fingers...”
Despite your pussy being a bit wrecked from Harry’s big cock, you were still wet and turned on. Clearly.
Harry moved his fingers out and then dipped in to kiss your hole. You felt his lips peck gently over you and then he picked up the dildo, adding more lube to it.
“Can you turn to look at me? Want to be able to see your face at first so I can make sure you’re feeling good.”
You turned to look at him over your shoulder. He was so handsome. Thick curls all wild and strewn about from sleep and sex, his strong chest gently rising and falling, pink lips curved up in a smile…
He lifted the slim toy up so you could see it, “Ready?” He asked as he smeared his thumb over your anus.
You nodded with a smile, “Yes.”
He lowered his gaze to your ass and you felt the tip of the toy press into your anus. You tilted your hips down and arched your back for a better angle as you kept your eyes on his face.
He was slow and steady with his movements but you were used to the dildo by then. As he pushed it past your hole and dipped it in as far as it would comfortably go on the first thrust you moaned softly.
“Feels okay?” He moved his eyes from where he was working you open to your face.
“Feels good.” You nodded and licked your lips.
It was hard to explain how it felt to have your ass filled with a toy. It was interesting. But a really good kind of interesting. An interesting that you craved and you just knew that having Harry inside of you would be even better. A warm thick cock attached to a handsome, strong man that you could trust would just be the best.
When he began to thrust into you his lips parted at the sight and you swayed your hips slightly as the toy began to take up that space and bump into whatever was in there that had your body shaking.
Harry grinned, “You okay?” He knew you were. He just liked hearing you tell him how good you were feeling.
You groaned and stitched your brows together as you nodded, ‘Yes, Daddy…”
It gave you that ache that you never experienced with vaginal sex. It was something so deep and full feeling, so raunchy and vulgar. You loved it.
“You’re shaking already, baby. Is this what happens when you do it yourself?”
You panted, “Yeah. It’s like my body just can’t stop. It feels really good.” Even your words were shaky.
Harry pumped the toy in and out and then used his other hand to slide delicately over your folds and up to your clit, “Want me to rub you here? Or is it too sensitive?”
The pads of his long fingers stroking softly over your clit was exactly what you needed. You gasped and dropped your head with your mouth dropped open, “Don’t stop. Just like that, Daddy.”
So he didn’t stop. Harry did it exactly right. It was perfect with his gentle fingers on your bud, soft thrusts that he deepened as your moans grew louder and your body shook harder. He could tell you could take more and that was quite exciting. It meant you might be ready for his cock soon enough.
“Oh, honey…” Harry breathed, “Fucking so pretty. Just dripping and clenching. Gonna come for Daddy?”
You nodded as your head hung down. You were already two steps away from your orgasm. That was another thing about anal. It was a guarantee you’d come and depending on the moment you could come very fast. And having Harry fuck you with your dildo like he was with his fingers slipping back and forth on your clit, it was one of those moments.
Your whole body began to burn as your muscles tensed and you cried out, “I’m coming, Daddy! Oh my god! Oh my god!”
Harry held back his laugh of surprise. He couldn’t believe how hard your body was shivering and the way you clamped over the toy, he could hardly slip it in any further so he let you roll your hips and shake and cry as he kept the pads of his fingers on your clit. It was the fastest he’d ever seen any woman come. And he knew there was so much to explore with you. You two were just getting started.
You collapsed onto your tummy the moment Harry pulled the toy from you and he kissed his way up from your bum to your shoulders, “How was that, baby? Did I do it right?”
You smiled to yourself with your eyes closed, “Perfect. So good. But I want your cock next time.”
Harry laughed and pulled you into his arms, as seemed to be the norm. He ran a hand over your cheek and kissed your forehead, “What time does your roommate come back?”
You looked up at him and placed your palm on the butterfly tattoo, “I think early afternoon. Probably should go before she gets here, huh?”
Harry shrugged, “If you want me to.”
“I don’t want you to,” you smiled at him.
“Okay. Then I’ll make you breakfast. How’s that sound?”
. . .
You learned quickly that Harry, while loving to be rough with you in bed, had an innate need to take care of you at the same time. You got used to him fucking the life out of you and then making you something to eat afterward.
It was usually during the time he was in your kitchen, naked, making you a meal that you learned about one another. He asked you lots of questions. About your parents, your job, your friends, and even things like what your favorite television show was.
You learned that he and his ex co-parented while raising Tyler and they always got along just fine but they never really got past that casual stage in their relationship before she got pregnant. Tyler had been an accident baby. Despite Harry wearing condoms he got his ex pregnant. They were both seeing other people by the time she realized it and they never saw the need to get married.
And Harry learned that your mom mostly raised you. You did see your dad once in a while when he was around but for the most part, he wasn’t in your life. He was in the military and your parents married young when they found out she was pregnant. But he was hardly ever there to help raise you. She wound up divorcing him when she learned he was sleeping with other women. You hadn’t seen him in over a year when you told him that story.
Getting closer to Harry was easy by the time you’d been sleeping with him for a couple of months. He was exactly what you wanted in a partner, but that was dangerous because you were certain the arrangement you had with him was always meant to be casual. So you tried not to let yourself overthink things with him. But that was hard because of how attentive he was and how he just seemed to get you without even trying.
The connection you had with him was so much better than it was with Tyler. Leaps and bounds better. You were thankful Tyler was just a part of your past now. You realized, partly thanks to Harry, that you deserved a hell of a lot better than your ex. You kind of wished Harry would suggest making things a little more exclusive. Because he was all you could really think about. You felt like if there was anyone you did deserve, well maybe that could be Harry.
But those thoughts and those feelings were pushed way way down and swallowed up by your better judgment. You couldn’t let yourself get too lost in him. Not until he gave you some sign that he felt the same or wanted more of you. Because you were most certainly not going to be the one to tell him what was really happening to you under the surface. You had to keep working to make sure those emotions stayed in check.
You didn’t see him every week, and maybe the fact that you didn’t have full access to him was what was making you feel the things you were. Sometimes you drove yourself crazy wondering what he was up to on evenings you were free when he was busy. You didn’t know if maybe there was someone else he might be interested in. You were too scared to ask him that. It could be possible you supposed, because Harry was the whole package. Any woman would throw themselves at the chance to date him. You were sure he wasn’t having sex with anyone else because you two weren’t using condoms and he told you that you would both be honest if that needed to change. But that didn’t make you feel all that much better because your feelings for him were starting to sprout big green leaves and take root deep in your heart. It was too much.
And that became exhausting to tamp down.
. . .
Harry’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly after you’d just swallowed down every drop of his come. You wiped the tears from your face and the drool off your chin as he helped you stand up.
The plan had been to try anal sex for the first time that night. Harry had been using your little dildo to get you ready, your plugs helped, and his fingers too. You’d been begging him for it but he always wanted to take things easy. One step at a time he said. And he meant it. He only introduced one or two new things every time you saw him.
“Bend over the bed, sweetheart.”
You did as he said as your head swirled with thoughts and feelings you didn’t want to have surfaced.
He was gentle with you as he placed his palm on your butt cheek to pull at it and used his other hand to twist and slowly bring the plug out.
He hissed when he saw your puckered hole and he dipped two fingers in, pressing into your bum in the way only Harry could.
You hid your face in the crook of your arm and felt the moisture from the tears that had been forced from your eyes when he was gagging you with his cock.
And the way your heart was pounding in your chest, you could hardly hear him asking you a question.
“Hey,” Harry lifted you up and sat down with you on the bed, “Are you okay?”
All his check-ins and his softness, those eyes looking at you with such care, and the way his voice and hands comforted you had you tearing up again. But this time the tears were coming from emotion.
“I’m okay,” your lip quivered and you turned away from him. You felt silly to get so overemotional but you couldn’t help it.
You felt Harry shift on the bed and then pull your back against his chest as he scooted into your pillows against your headboard, “Don’t say you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what happened.”
You sniffed and took a deep breath, trying to control the way your heart wanted you to burst into mawkish tears that would surely have him ending the whole thing with you.
“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, “It’s fine…”
Harry gripped your chin and made you turn your head to look at him, “You need to communicate to me what happened so I can fix it. I can’t make this better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
You blinked and a gush of tears were pushed from your lashes as you shook your head and kept your mouth shut.
“Okay. That’s okay. Let’s just sit here for a little while. Take a deep breath…” he smoothed his palm over your arm and it made your heart blossom even more, those windy sprouts trying to work budding flowers open, but that only made you cry harder.
He tried to calm you down. He was doing everything right; holding you close to his chest, speaking quietly into your ear, running his gentle hands over your skin… but that was the problem. It all felt too good. It all felt too real.
You moved yourself out of his arms and climbed off your bed to find your sweater, “I… uh…” you looked around your floor and grabbed the material to pull over your head, “Need some sleep I think. Sorry. Maybe we can see each other another night,” your words tumbled out unsteadily.
Harry followed after you as he slid his briefs up his legs, “What’s going on? Y/n you need to talk to me now,” he turned you around to look at him.
You kept your eyes on his inky swallows and shook your head, “I can’t.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” you looked up at him. That was the last thing you wanted him to think, “It’s me. It’s not you. I just need to be alone.”
You heard him sigh, “Is that really what you want, Y/n?”
You nodded.
And with that, he let go of your arms and dressed himself in silence. You held back any further tears as you watched him with his back turned to you as he slid his t-shirt on over his head and then put his wallet and cell phone into his back pockets.
When he picked up his leather duffel bag he turned to look at you and his expression was unreadable but he stood in front of you, cupped the back of your head with his palm, and kissed your temple before opening your bedroom door and seeing himself out of your apartment.
The moment you heard your front door click shut you sat down on your floor and let yourself go completely. Though you did control your volume. You didn’t need your roommate hearing and then coming in to check on you.
You needed to break down and face your feelings and those little niggling thoughts once and for all. You didn’t know what to do with them but you needed to allow them to come out of you because you’d been pretending with Harry and that wasn’t fair to him or to you.
It wasn’t like you were in love with him, but you were feeling things that you knew would quickly slip into that realm. He was a dream and you wanted him to yourself. But how could you know if he felt the same unless you asked? And if you asked and he didn’t think of you the way you thought of him well that would be that. Surely, he wouldn’t want to keep entertaining you the way he was if you were falling for him. He was too kind to allow that to happen. He’d break it off and send you on your way before things got too real for you.
And that would devastate you.
A/N: Ooops 🤭 We have to have a tiny bit of angst in order to move this plot forward! Hope you enjoyed my loves! Part 4 in one week! xoxo
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
Text
Whiplash*
Summary: The second part to Knockout*
The one where Harry does something dangerous in the shadows, and he'll do anything to keep you out of it.
Word Count: 9.4k (again...so sorry)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, slight blood kink, slight pain kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
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There’s no protocol for what to do when a handsome stranger you hardly know (but occasionally fool around with), stops showing up at your diner. 
You stare at his booth for far longer than you should. Willing him to appear. To walk through the door and make things right. Ease this ache in your chest.
You have no way to contact him. You don’t know his last name, or his phone number, or his address. You don’t even know his license plate number. He’s a ghost to you. More than a stranger but less than a friend.
You give him a few more minutes to appear. Maybe there was traffic. Or maybe he forgot you were working tonight.
But soon, a few minutes turns into an hour, and booth 505 remains empty.
So, you put the idea of him to bed. Carrying on with your shift while wearing your heavy heart on your sleeve. Perhaps he’s gotten bored with you. Or perhaps he’s found other ways to occupy his nights.
You almost think you’d prefer this alternative to the other. The one where he’s not here because he’s not…here. That wherever he goes and whatever he does has finally caught up to him.
It makes your stomach wrench to imagine, and you forcibly shove the thought free before returning your attention to your newest pie.
Peach. Another one of Harry’s favorites.
3 a.m. has never felt so liberating. Bringing you the perfect escape as you clock out and rush through the doors for the parking lot. Eager to rid yourself of this wretched night and head back to your apartment to worry about your stranger in peace.
You step out into the cold morning air and pull your jacket a bit tighter around your frame. Exhaling a shaky breath that you can see dance across the dimly lit space.
There are only two other cars over by the right side of the building, and much to your continued dismay, you notice that Harry’s still isn’t one of them. 
So, with a sinking stomach, you reach into your pocket for your apartment keys, and begin walking for the subway. Yet right as round the corner of the diner, you notice something move within the shadows just beside you.
With a jump, you gasp, and spin around on your heel with your keys raised and aimed at the ready.
The figure that emerges sends your heart straight into your throat.
“Harry?” You drop your arm and move closer for a better look. “What…what…?”
The battered and bruised man offers you a tired smile that hardly reaches his lips. “Hi, Cherry.”
He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a nasty slash going down his left eyebrow, a dark bruise forming along his jaw, and blood dripping down his arm from beneath his sleeve onto the pavement below.
You search for the right words – for any words at all – but before you can, he’s stumbling forward. Just barely able to catch himself before he collapses onto the ground.
With another gasp, you surge forward, quickly taking hold of his shoulders in order to keep him upright. “Harry—”
“M’okay,” he murmurs, and you can hardly hear him. As if he barely has the strength to speak. “I’m fine. I promise—”
“Harry,” you repeat for a third time, almost incredulously. “You…this is not fine. You’re…what happened?”
Even before he shakes his head, you know he won’t truly answer. “Nothing. S’just a little worse this time, but I’m okay. Really.”
You feel sick. Sick that he’s so hurt, sick that you can’t help him, and sick because you don’t understand who does this to him. “Okay, we…we need to get you to a hospital, we need to get you some help—”
“No.” His head shakes again, a bit more insistently. “No, I can’t go to a hospital. I just…I had to see you.”
You feel your throat constrict. “What?”
His hand lifts, palm finding your jaw until he can softly caress your cheek. And you feel a streak of blood smear across your skin from where his thumb brushes at your chin. 
“I had to see you,” he repeats softly. “Had to make sure you were all right. M’so sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”
You want to bury yourself in his arms. Want to kiss him, and hold him, and fix him. Make everything better again.
“It’s okay,” you nearly whimper. Pushing yourself into his touch. “I’m just really worried about you.”
The smirk grows. “I’m all right. I’ll go home, take some pain pills, and be right as rain by tomorrow. Really.”
 You’re hardly convinced. “Harry—"
“I’m all right,” he insists, dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to worry about me, Cher. S’not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you.”
And you don’t believe him. You don’t even think he believes him. But he smiles at you as though he wants to. As though he wants to offer you any sort of consolation for his pain. To make this better…for you.
You allow him to hold you a moment longer before you pull back and declare, “I’ll help.”
His brows pinch together. “What?”
“I’ll help. I’ll go with you. Make sure you’re okay, and…and help you clean up.”
His expression softens, but he sighs heavily. “Baby, I can’t…I can’t ask you to do that—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
“I know, s’just…” He holds your cheeks in both hands now. Keeping you in his sights. “I made a rule with myself. A promise that I wouldn’t drag you down with me. That I’d make sure you were okay, and that you’d never hurt because of me.”
The pit in your stomach deepens, but you merely straighten up. “How could this hurt me? I just want to help.”
“I know, sweet girl,” he breathes. “But letting you come with me means breaking my rule. And I can’t do that. I won’t.”
You wonder what he means. You wonder if you really want to know.
“Then you come with me,” you decide. “You can come back to my apartment, and I can make sure you’re all right.”
Another heavy exhale, but you can tell he’s touched. “Cherry—”
“I mean it. You’re not…Harry, I’m really worried about you. You can hardly stand and you’re bleeding from more places than one. You could have really hurt yourself and you shouldn’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone right now.”
He considers this. “Cherry, I’m trying to protect you—”
“And I’m trying to protect you, too,” you argue firmly, but with a persuasive grin. “Please let me.”
There’s a long lull of silence, those gentle green eyes studying you closely. He looks so very tired and wrought with grief. Yet when he sees you…his entire world seems to change. Lighting up about as bright as the moon.
“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll go. I trust you.”
I trust you. Three little words that have never sounded so good and you can’t help but push up onto your toes to kiss him as gingerly as you can.
“Okay, where’s your car?” you ask, letting go in order to look around. “My apartment isn't too far, so I can drive until we—”
“No.”
“What?”
He squeezes onto your wrist almost pointedly. “No, we can’t…can’t take my car. S’not safe.”
“Oh…” Your lashes flutter. “All right. We…we can take the subway. I was going to take it anyway because a friend of mine is borrowing my car for the night, but…that can work. We can make that work.”
He says nothing, instead swaying a bit from the loss of blood as you rush to take hold of him once more.
“All right, okay. You’re okay,” you murmur softly. “Just hold on, okay? It’s only a few stops to my place, and we’ll be there in under twenty minutes.”
He nods weakly in response, and you’re quick to pull his arm around your shoulders in order to help guide him through the parking lot.
He seems grateful for this hold on you. Smirking to himself before leaning over to press his lips to your temple. Keeping you tight against his chest as though the two of you are merely going for a stroll in the park. 
Like a real couple.
You cling to his stained hoodie and help lead him toward the subway station. Making sure that you don’t walk too fast (or too slow) in order to get him there in one piece.
You don’t talk much – although there’s so much you want to say – but you can tell he’s pleased. Grateful to be in your company, even despite the circumstances. 
Once the train arrives, you both slip through the doors, and take a seat near the exit. You push your shoulder into his and he pushes his shoulder into yours. Leaning against each other almost contently and smiling to yourselves as the rest of the crowd saunters on.
The subway is relatively empty for this time of night. Or rather, early morning. And you’re more than all right with that. It means less people to stare at the bloody, bruised man dripping onto the train floor. 
He doesn’t notice the odd looks. He doesn’t seem to notice anything but you, instead staring down at where your fingers are tracing his. The way they run tenderly over the cracked skin across his knuckles before intertwining together.
He hums contently, lips stretching into a gentle grin.
You’re at your stop only fifteen minutes later, practically leaping onto your feet in a rush to get him out.
He seems to have a bit more energy now, perhaps from being able to rest for as long as he did. But he still holds onto you as tightly as he can while you walk along the sidewalk.
And you can’t help but let him.
“My apartment might be a little messy,” you attempt to preface as you head inside the tall building. “I was going to clean it before I left, but something…came up.”
He nods understandingly before glancing over the side of your profile. “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right?” you tease, gesturing toward him.
He smirks, but that curious look doesn’t slip. “Are you?”
You press the elevator button with one hand and squeeze his palm in the other. “I will be once you are.”
Apartment 505 is on the left side of the building, just beside the stairwell. It gives you a perfect view of the city, and you spend most of your days out on the stairwell watching the sun rise and set.
There’s a wreath on your door, hanging just over the number, and your stranger smiles when he sees it. Seemingly amused by the bright flowers and dainty bow that stands out amidst the dark grey paint.
After fumbling with your keys, you finally manage to get you both inside. Exhaling a deep breath and tossing your things toward the coffee table.
“Lock it,” he murmurs just as you’re moving for the kitchen.
“What?”
“The door. Lock it,” he says, almost firmly while nodding toward the handle. “Right now.”
A tad surprised by the resolute tone of voice, you nod, and turn around to oblige. Making sure the lock is turned and the door is secure before glancing over for his approval.
“Good girl,” he mumbles. “I want you to always lock it when you come in, all right? Always.”
“Okay,” you agree softly, returning to him. “I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” you whisper, raising your hand to his face to press a kiss to his cheek. “Can you let me take care of you now?”
He seems to chuckle as he allows you to stroke his jaw. Settling into your gentle touch before nodding.
Pleased, you take his hand, and lead him toward your small bathroom. Sitting him on the edge of the bathtub in order to get a better look.
But the moment you see each cut and scrape beneath the bright, fluorescent light, there’s a hitch in your breath. Overwhelming you with sorrow and anguish at the sight of him. 
“Harry,” you exhale, almost unintentionally. 
His lashes flutter as he smiles, reaching out to lightly tug on your waitressing dress. “M’okay, Cherry. Really.”
He’s not okay, and you both know it. “I’ll…I’ll need to clean them first. Where…how many are there?”
A beat while he thinks. “There’s a couple on my chest. Plus, the one on my eye, and, you know, my hands.”
You nod, and vaguely gesture toward him, willing yourself not to shake. “Can…may I take off your hoodie? So I can check?”
The corner of his mouth curls up and he nods as well, reaching for the collar of his sweatshirt in order to begin peeling it off his torso.
You attempt to help, making sure he can get his arms through without having to bend too far or cause any strain to the injuries.
But once it’s off, you feel your stomach twist.
 His skin is littered with scars, scrapes, and fresh bruises. A variety of colors that range from light pink to an unsettling yellow. Blood is smeared across tattoos you didn’t even know he had, and there’s a rather nasty gash along the side of his ribcage. 
You hear yourself gasp, and he quickly tugs on your hem again. “Cher—”
However, you brush his hand away and move closer, running the tips of your fingers along his shoulder and down his sternum. Trailing each inch of stained skin until you reach his heart.
“Harry…” you say again.
He takes hold of your wrist and offers you a look of remorse. “I know.”
You aren’t sure you have the strength to ask, instead swallowing thickly as you pull back, and turn around. Searching through your cupboards for everything you’ll need.
He watches you closely, and it seems your reaction causes him more pain than anything else. It’s a look you know well. One where he’s desperate to comfort you, and you wish you could let him.
You rejoin his side with bandages, rubbing alcohol, and a sterilized needle with thread. “All right, I have to clean them first, and then…”
His eyes flick down to the suturing supplies with a smirk. “Ah.”
You grimace. “It’ll probably hurt.”
To your surprise, he shrugs. “No worse than what gave me the cut, I imagine.”
You hum to yourself and move for the alcohol. “And this might sting.”
“Mm. I’m counting on it.”
Dipping a cloth into the potent liquid, you begin to dab at each open cut that’s painted along his body. Making sure to be as gentle as you can and avoid any potential infections.
He tenses every few moments, jaw ticking as he takes steady, even breaths. But he makes no noise of complaint, nor does he flinch away from your touch. Almost leaning into it as you move between each scratch.
“How’s that?” you whisper, glancing over his face curiously before moving for the cut on his brow. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, red-rimmed eyes trained on you. Seeming to study you while you study his injury. “M’okay. Are you?”
You smile. “Yeah. Don’t like hurting you, though.”
“You’re not. Could never.”
“Hope you’re right.”
You smooth back the dark hairs of his eyebrow as gingerly as you can before reaching for the medical tape. Cutting the strips to the right length, you place a couple over the cut, and step back to observe.
“All right,” you declare. “Now, um…now I’ll need to…”
You both look toward his stomach where the worst gash lies, and he nods. “Where do you want me?”
“Just…there. Is fine.” You collect the needle and thread before crouching down near him in order to get closer. “It shouldn’t take too long. Be over before you know it.”
“All right.” He’s oddly calm, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched, Cherry. I’ll be all right.”
 “I can see that,” you mumble to yourself, reaching now for his abdomen. “Just…tell me if it hurts too much, okay?”
“Okay.”
With a deep breath, you pinch his skin between your fingers, and bring the tip of the needle closer. Piercing the skin and threading it through slowly and with great precision.
He looks down, watching for a moment almost as though fascinated. “You’re really good at that.”
You offer a tight-lipped smile. “Should hope so. Spent three years learning how to do it.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. My, uh…my parents really wanted me to pursue a career in the medical field,” you explain as you continue working your way down. “And I thought being a nurse would be good because I liked the idea of helping people. And I liked learning about the body and how to heal it.”
His eyes remain on you.
“Anyway, it didn’t…I didn’t have a great experience in medical school,” you continue. “And it made me realize that it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I wanted to…help people through food, I guess. Which probably sounds silly—”
“No,” he says, almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”
You smile a bit bigger. “Well, my parents were pretty pissed when I dropped out. Which makes sense, since they were the ones paying for it. But…they told me that if I wanted to pursue baking, I’d have to do that on my own. Financially, anyway. Hence all the late shifts at the diner.”
His brows furrow together almost sternly.
“And I don’t mind it. I really like working there. I like my coworkers, I like the people I meet.” You pause now and brave a glance up. “And I really like that it brought me to you.”
There’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart skip. “M’glad it brought you to me, too.”
You chew on the inside of your lip to suppress a rather giddy grin before returning your focus to the wound. “All right, your turn.”
“My turn?”
You nod your chin toward his injured body. “Why do you keep letting this happen?”
He sighs, and his stomach tenses with the strained breath. He wears the same look he wears each time you ask, and you already know he’s searching for the right way to deflect the question. 
“I don’t know.”
You expected nothing less, yet tonight, you insist upon the truth. Scooting closer as you glance up almost pleadingly. “Where do you go? Who does this to you?”
He hesitates. “Cher—”
“I won’t judge you. I’d never judge you, but this isn’t…Harry, this is really scary. And I want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”
Another heavy pause as you continue the suture. He contemplates his response, the small bathroom filling with a tense sort of energy. You wonder if the truth hurts him more than the scars.
“I…fight,” he finally says, and you feel your pulse stutter. “I get paid to fight. Three nights a week.”
And even though you’d already begun to assume that was the case, you feel the blood drain from your face. “Harry…”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs quickly, reaching out to brush his thumb along your cheek. “I’m okay.”
You want to argue, but you bite your tongue. Zeroing in your focus on your hands.
“I like it,’ he continues. “Don’t know why, but there’s just…there’s this rush, you know? This adrenaline. Makes me feel alive to be so close to death, I guess.”
You hum quietly, features pulling together in a wince. 
“S’about the only thing I’m good at, too,” he adds with a wry chuckle. “And all I have to do is win.”
Your head lifts. “This doesn’t look like a win.”
“Yeah, well. You should’ve seen the other guy.”
And despite his attempt at humor, you look back down, lashes fluttering.
It’s quiet for another long lull before he says, “It’s how I met you.”
You choose to keep your eyes downcast on the needle this time, but your ears perk up.
“One of the guys I work with said your desserts were the best he’d ever had. Said he used to go there all the time, for every fucking meal.”
You pull the thread though his stained skin and he sucks in a sharp breath. 
But his story is undeterred. “And I always get kind of a sugar craving after a fight, so I thought I’d go. And then…you.”
You remember the night vividly. The sight of him, hands wrapped in gauze, eyes dark and inquisitive, that familiar hoodie pulled over his head.
He was mysterious and strange, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 
You have been ever since.
“And he was right,” Harry whispers now, tucking his finger beneath your chin until he can see you. “Never had anything as sweet as you.”
Your heart returns to your throat, and there’s a sort of longing in your stomach that can’t be tamped. You aren’t sure if you want to laugh or cry, so you merely release a soft sigh and finish closing the wound.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” you ask of him again. “Really?”
He runs his tongue over his cracked lip. “Sometimes.”
“And would they let you leave? If you wanted to?”
The silence is deafening. 
His thumb moves to your mouth, brushing over the pink fibers that part for him. “Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to find out.”
It’s not a perfect answer. But it’s the one you choose to cling to, reaching up to squeeze his wrist in desperation.
You suppose this explains more than you realized. Why he won’t tell you who he really is. Why he won’t let you into his world. Why he insists on keeping you safe.
But it only makes this new reality that much heavier.
“Just make me a promise, okay?” you exhale. “Promise me that you’ll be all right. That you’ll stay safe. That you won’t…”
The unspoken word carries a weight that nearly crushes you, and he seems to understand as he squeezes your chin.
“That you’ll always come back,” you finish.
“I promise,” he says, even if you both know it’s not a promise he can make. “Always.”
You kiss him. Quickly and without pause, surging forward until your mouth meets his. You take his lips between your own, careful to mind the cut while remembering just how much he enjoys the sting.
Instantly, his hand curls around the back of your neck, tugging you as close as he can get you. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, and soft grunts that reverberate all the way down to your chest.
“Careful,” you gasp, attempting to pull back when he guides you between his legs. “Your cut—”
“Don’t care,” he whispers, bringing you back to nip at your bottom lip. “Don’t fucking care.”
You whimper against him, hands resting delicately on his chest. “Har—”
“I know. Just missed you. Really missed you, sweet girl.”
He tugs you between his thighs and you allow yourself to be moved. Melting into his touch as he uses his height advantage to fully take control of you. In more ways than one. 
Desperate pants fill the tiny bathroom, and you can’t help but feel undone by him. Already feeling a certain throbbing in the pit of your stomach that can’t be tamed by anything else but him.
“Harry,” you try again, moving your hands to his hair. Carding your fingers through his matted, bloody curls. “Please…”
And then…you feel it. Rather, you feel him. Hard and prominent, pressing right up against you. 
You gasp, and he rests his forehead against yours. Cursing to himself when you nudge yourself forward.
And that’s when you realize. 
“Does pain turn you on?”
There’s a quick pause before he nods once. Trailing his lips along your cheek and toward your throat.
Your head spins. “Really?”
Another motion of his head. “It’s not really pain when it’s you.”
Breathlessly, you drop your touch to his lap, palming him through his dark jeans while he groans again and buries his nose in your neck. Inhaling you deeply while bracing himself against your knelt frame.
“Think it’s my turn now,” you say. “My turn to be good.”
The grip on your neck tightens, and you can feel him release a warm exhale against your collarbone before he’s kissing just below your ear.
Then, he shakes his head, and mumbles, “No.”
You stop, fingers freezing over the bulge between his thighs. “What?”
“No,” he repeats gently. “S’not about me. Wanna make this about you.”
You lean back just far enough to catch his eye. “But—”
“There are a lot of things I’ll never be able to give you. Or do for you,” he explains gingerly. “But I can do this. I want to do this, sweet girl. Wanna give you the fucking world because it’s what you deserve.”
You consider this for only a moment before settling on the floor. “Har…”
His head shakes once more. Thumb stroking the curve of your jaw while tilting your eyes up. “Never be able to tell you how beautiful you are. I don’t…I can’t even understand it. You’re perfect, Cherry. So fucking perfect, and I will spend the rest of my life wanting to be near you.”
It’s a sweet sentiment. One that nearly knocks the wind from your lungs as you gaze at him.
“Wanting to taste you…” he continues, dipping down to brush his nose against yours. “Feel you…touch you. You…are the best goddamn thing I will ever have.”
You whimper, pushing yourself closer until he finally kisses you. “Then let me…”
But he merely smiles. “One day, sweet girl. I promise.”
You want to push. You almost want to insist that he let you take his cock into your mouth, but the look on his face is resolute. Decisive. You aren’t changing his mind, at least not tonight.
And you decide that maybe it’s for the better. His body needs to rest in order to heal, and perhaps any extra strain would hurt him or rip the stitching.
So, you oblige. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”
With a chuckle, he kisses you again. “Good girl.”
The kisses grow more frantic. About as frantic as before, and you have to physically yank yourself out of his grasp in order to calm yourself down.
“No,” you say this time as you stand. “No, you need to lay down. And rest. Okay? Give your body time to heal. And get better.”
He watches you go, but he’s unconvinced, already looping an arm around your hips to pull you back. “This is how I get better.”
And even though you’re concerned for his health, you can’t deny the pulsing between your thighs. “Harry—”
“You make me better,” he says, trailing his lips along your arms, all the way down to your palms. “Always. Fucking always—”
You whine beneath a strained breath, your other hand dropping to his head as you tug on his hair.
In turn, he moans against you, and your knees about buckle. “Let me get better…please…”
And it’s almost like he doesn’t realize he’s said it. A subconscious thought that’s whispered against your skin until it becomes one with your bloodstream.
“Want to,” you say. “I want to, but you need to rest. I need you to rest, Har.”
“I am,” he tries to argue, glancing up through those thick lashes of his. “This is me resting.”
“Harry—”
“Please,” he nearly groans again, pressing his nose into your stomach. “God, please, Cher. Please. M’so fucking lost on you, I can’t…I need…”
He told you once that you’re like a drug to him. That he goes through withdrawals if you’re not near. If he’s gone too long without you.
And, truthfully, you feel about the same. Feeling strung-out and shaky without his touch. Even the sound of his voice. It’s borderline pathetic, yet you don’t ever want to be rid of him.
“You need to rest,” you repeat, although you’re losing conviction. “I want to, but I can’t…I’m worried. You shouldn’t move, you should rest.”
The air becomes charged as he looks back up. “Then ride my face.”
You hesitate. “What?”
“Ride my face,” he says again, practically groaning the instruction. “S’easy, right? Won’t have to move. I’ll just hold you, yeah?”
You feel the heat rush into your cheeks as you blink down at him. “I…you’re already hurt. I don’t want to suffocate you, too—”
“God, suffocate me,” he sighs, grabbing onto the backs of your thighs. Squeezing the flesh in his strong, battered hands pleadingly. “You’d never hurt me, baby, ever. S’all I fucking want. Don’t want anything else but you. Only you. All of you. Want you everywhere.”
And you believe him. You do. But the idea of…and being that close…
“What…but what if it’s too much?” you murmur. “What if I’m too…—”
“Never.” A firm shake of his head. “Fucking never. You would never be too much. Believe me. Tasting you is the only good thing in my life.”
There’s a catch in your throat that you swallow down. “I just…I’ve never…”
His expression softens. Thumbs brushing at your exposed skin before squeezing once more. “It’s okay. S’okay, sweet girl, really. Don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t have to do anything at all. But…I promise you…you could never do anything wrong. Ever. You breathe and you’re perfect.”
And he’s so honest. So good. You know he means it, know he’d never lie about something like this. And you do trust him. More than anything. Trust that he’d never judge you or want anything more from you than what you’re willing to give.
“If you say no, then it’s no,” he adds gently. “End of. Promise.”
But that’s not your problem. You’d happily do anything and everything with him. But you’re worried about his injuries and all the blood he’s already lost. Granted, his suggestion would perhaps be the best alternative, but…
“Fine,” you whisper, squeezing his curls in your fist. “Okay. But you need to be very careful and very still. And if it starts to hurt, we stop. Okay?”
There’s a wicked gleam in his eye. One you recognize all too well, yet it merely makes your pulse jump.
“Okay,” he agrees, almost mischievously. “Deal. Just lead the way.”
You bite back a whimper before glancing toward his knuckles. “I need wrap your hands first—”
“No,” he interjects. “No, leave ‘em. Just for right now. Wanna see them when I hold you.”
And there’s something about the idea that leaves you breathless, making your nails curl into his scalp as if to drag him closer. “Are you sure—”
“Yes.” He tugs on the hem of your dress again, almost as though trying to rip it off. “Yes, m’sure. Please, Cher…”
And you have no choice but to oblige.
You reach down, take his hand, and pull him onto his feet. Quickly and impatiently leading him out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room before pushing the door open and bringing him inside.
He only takes a moment to look around, eyebrows raised while a smile plays at his lips. He studies the array of artwork you have displayed, the baby blue paint on your walls, and the plethora of pillows that sit near your headboard. He seems…enchanted, almost, and it makes you giddy.
“S’cute,” he decides, offering his smirk to you. “Very cute. Very you.”
“Thanks,” you reply anxiously, already looping your arms around his neck in order to yank him back down. “Please?”
He chuckles against your lips before dropping his hands to your waist, nodding once, and pushing you back. “Do you trust me, baby? Trust me to take care of you?”
“Yes,” you answer instantaneously. “Yes, always.”
“Yeah? Know I’ll take care of you?”
“Yes.”
He drops you onto the bed before chasing after you. Lips on your cheek, your neck, your chest. Fingers playing with the buttons on your chest before he whispers, “Can I take this off, sweet girl?”
You motion your head almost frantically, leaning back to give him room.
He undoes your dress and slips it over your head in a matter of seconds. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear as he tosses it toward the floor before surging forward to kiss you again.
He’s seen you before. Seen your chest, your stomach, your thighs. But never in the privacy of your own home, and the way he seems to look at you now feels as though it changes everything. Like he’s looking at you for the very first time.
“Baby,” he breathes, pulling your lip between his teeth before groaning. “God…s’fucking cruel you have to hide this behind such a hideous dress.”
You grin against his mouth, scooting back in order to make space for him. “Then maybe you should come around and take it off more often.”
He likes this idea, chuckling to himself before grabbing hold of your hips, and flipping over onto his back. Effectively pulling you with him until you’re straddling his waist.
With a gasp, you glance down to his newly stitched cut, quickly inspecting in order to make sure nothing has been ripped or pulled. “Harry, you can’t—”
“Shh,” he coos, pulling on the back of your neck to bring you down again. Nose nudging with yours. “M’okay. I’ll tell you, yeah?”
“But—”
“I’m all right,” he insists quietly. “Promise. Just need you.”
You swallow the rest of your complaints, allowing your body to be pulled into his before he’s moving both hands to your naked thighs. Stroking along the tender, soft flesh and kneading it tenderly.
“Think you’re ready, baby?” he whispers. “Hm? Gonna let me have a taste?”
And even if you’re somewhat apprehensive, the lust that swims within the bottom of your stomach makes you whimper. Urging you to say, “Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”
“Good girl,” he hums, gliding his palms toward your ass before patting it once. “Up you go.”
You imagine you seem somewhat terrified, but his look of encouragement goes straight to your cunt. Encouraging you up his body until you can place your knees on either side of his head.
“Good,” he breathes, eyes already gluing to your panties. “So good, baby. Can you hold onto me? Hold onto my hair? And tug it if it’s too much?”
You nod weakly and drop your fingers to his curls. Brushing them gently while he smiles, lashes fluttering.
“Good girl,” he says again, and it makes you clench around nothing. “M’gonna pull you down now, okay? Don’t worry about anything. Just let me make you feel good. Promise I’ll be all right.”
You whimper beneath a deep breath before nodding again and allowing him to guide you down to his face.
You feel the tip of his nose ghost across the edge of your panties, right near your clit. And you can help but buck up, gasping as you squirm away from the stimulating touch.
But his hold on you is unrelenting, tightening when he feels you twitch before yanking you back into position.
“Uh-uh, sweet girl, none of that,” he warns softly, mouth dancing down your covered cunt. Tauntingly. Deviously. “M’just having some fun, yeah? Gonna let me have fun with such a pretty pussy?”
When you don’t answer, he gently smacks his hand against the side of your thigh.
“Yes,” you answer quickly, gathering his curls in your fist. “Yes, I…I will.”
“Mm. Good. Cause m’having so much fun with you, Cher. You know that? Always have fun getting to play with what’s mine.”
This possession sends chills down your spine and your chest heaves from the way he flattens his tongue against your underwear before dragging it down.
He seems to bask in your whines, moaning against your cunt before curling his fingers into your skin. Forcing you down even further until you’re nearly sat on his mouth.
His technique is sinful. Just enough to tease you and leave you wanting more. Effortlessly casting out any doubts or hesitation as you begin to settle in his hold, permitting him to keep you against his tongue until he sighs contently.
“Fucking killing me, baby,” he says, lifting you up in order to reach for the soft material against your pussy and drag it to the side. “Ready, sweet girl?”
You nod quickly.
“Promise to tug me if it’s too much or you want to stop?”
“Yes…yes, Har, please—”
“I know,” he shushes. “Just so well behaved for me, aren’t you? Hold still for me, all right?”
You go to nod again, but before you can, his lips are meeting your clit. Pressing the most innocent of kisses to the sensitive nerves until you choke on his name and yank his curls.
He seems to realize this aggression has more to do with the pleasure than the pain, and you can practically feel him smirk into your cunt before he does it again. Over and over and over, making your eyes roll back and your throat run dry with desperate pants and whimpers.
Then…he sucks. Takes your clit into his mouth before flattening his tongue and dragging it through.
You’ve never felt this kind of stimulation. This kind of overwhelming pleasure that goes directly to your toes.
Sure, he’s eaten you out before, but he’s never been this…close. He’s devouring you from the inside out. Forcing you against his mouth as though his life depends on it. 
The hold on your hip is unforgiving, and you’re almost sure you’ll see remnants of him on your skin tomorrow. The tips of his fingers tattooing to your waist and marking you as his forevermore. 
You aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Overcome with lust and infatuation for the man between your thighs. The way he expertly slides his lips through your folds, drowning in you.
The tip of his tongue teases your hole, and you feel him groan at the way your pussy flutters from the slight intrusion. And the vibration of his greed makes your hands tighten in his hair. Nail scraping so hard down his scalp, you’re sure you’ll draw blood.
But he loves it. Seems to thrive off it. Going in a bit further before dragging your arousal up to your clit and flicking.
Then, he swallows you down.
“Harry,” you gasp, and you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could gaze down at his face and watch while he does this to you. 
He always tends to get a sort of mesmeric look in his eye when he’s making you cum. Almost like he’s in a trance. Hypnotized by your body, drunk off the way he’s making you feel.
You imagine that’s about how he looks now, and you’d give anything to see those beautiful, hazy eyes just once.
“You’re okay,” he whispers, pulling away just long enough to speak. “You’re okay, yeah?”
You nod quickly. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I promise—please…”
He understands your request perhaps better than anyone and smiles to himself before going back in. It’s far too easy to unravel you, it seems. All he has to do is suck, and flick, and slide his mouth along your dripping pussy, and you’re done for. Already nearing release before he’s even really begun.
He senses this, and instantly goes harder. Faster. Tongue fucking into your clenching hole relentlessly until you cry out his name…and let go.
You hardly have time to register what’s happening or warn him of your impending orgasm. Nor do you have the time to remove yourself from him before accidently crushing him between your thighs and beneath your weight.
Yet through every second, he holds on. Keeps you exactly where you were, stuck in his hold, glued to his tongue. Until every drop of your cum belongs to him.
“Har…Harry,” you pant, uncurling your fingers from his hair. “Okay, it’s okay…I came, I—”
“I know,” he mumbles, leaving another kiss to your clit. “And you’re gonna do it again.”
It’s resolute. He leaves no room for bargaining or questioning before he’s going back in. Quick flicks of his tongue through your pussy until you feel breathless.
It’s sloppy. Everything about it is sloppy and wet. The sounds, his technique. The way he makes out with your cunt as though it’s the best thing he’s ever had. And, truthfully, you imagine he believes it is.
He repeats the movement of his tongue along the overstimulated nerves until you begin to shake. Never letting up, even when you begin to whine rather pitifully. Instead, he squeezes your waist, and keeps you close. Makes sure you take every second of this blissful affliction until you cum for a second time. 
The moment you do, he readjusts his hold on your panties in order to slip a finger inside. Forcing you up onto your knees so he can nip at your clit and fuck his finger into you with a newly determined fervor.
“Harry,” you cry out again, moving one hand to your headboard to brace yourself. “Can’t…can’t—”
“You’re all right,” he hums, the tip of his nose pressing hard into your skin. “You’re all right, sweet girl. Just want one more, okay?”
 And you believe him. You do believe you’re all right, even if the painful pleasure he’s dragging you into nearly kills you. Making your legs shake and your lungs heave.
You want to give him another. You want to give him all of your orgasms, forever. And he knows this, so he adds a second finger, and pumps you mercilessly.
The sound echoes through your room, loud and lewd. But it intertwines beautifully with his soft murmurs of encouragement: 
“Good, baby, just like that. Fucking squeezin’ me, aren’t you? Hm? S’it feel good? Feel so good to ride my face?”
You can’t answer. Want to. Can’t. Skin growing hot as sweat beads at your hairline. Muscles burning, aching, crying out for reprieve.
But all you really feel…is him.
“One more, come on,” he urges, increasing the speed of his tongue and his thrusts. “Can feel how close you are, sweet girl. Know you want to, yeah?”
You whimper softly, body tensing with the impending release.
“Yeah? I know. Know you’re so close. Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? S’just too much for this sweet little pussy, hm?”
He curls those long digits into your cunt until you moan, thighs trembling beside his head as you attempt to keep yourself upright. “Har, please—”
“What? What do you need?”
Everything, all of it, whatever it takes. You aren’t even sure, you just need…more.
He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg. Kissing and sucking into the tender skin while his fingers continue to encourage you closer. 
“Just taste so good, don’t you?” He trails his lips back toward your cunt. Lazily mouthing at your clit as if to torture you. “Get so wet for me. S’precious. So fucking precious.”
He uses his fingers to spread you open. Exhaling against your dripping cunt until you begin to squirm. Writhing away from the sensation while he does it again.
“Mm-mm,” he tuts, pulling you closer. “Told you no, sweet girl. Said I could play with you, so I am. Thought you were behaving for me?”
He exploits your need to please him. To obey and win his approval, and it nearly drives you mad.
“Know it’s a lot, baby,” he coos next, slipping back inside and curling. “Know you’re all sensitive. Not used to being so overstimulated, are you?”
He’s right, you’re not. Apart from him, nobody else has ever really taken the time.
“Makes me wonder,” he continues gently. “Wonder how you touch yourself…here in this very room.”
He pulls your clit between his teeth and tugs until you gasp.
“Tell me, Cherry. Tell me how you touch yourself when I’m not around.”
Your mind goes blank. Darkening around the edges while you suck in quick pants for air.
“Tell me,” he repeats, coarse and riddled with an insatiable hunger. “Tell me what you think about. D’you think about me, baby? Think about how good you look on my tongue?”
You find just enough strength to nod as you squeeze his curls and whimper out your agreement. 
“Yeah? Go on, tell me.”
Your mouth drops open, yet nothing else comes out. Save for a plethora of pathetic whines and anxious mewling.
He seems to laugh, the low sound sending goosebumps across the back of your neck. “What’s the matter, Cher? Pussy got your tongue?”
You can hardly acknowledge the joke as you go reeling forward, just barely able to catch yourself against the headboard before collapsing. “You…you,” you finally groan. “Always you, Harry. Always.”
“Me?” You can hear the faux fascination. “You think about me, baby? What do you think about?”
What don’t you think about? “Your…your fingers,” you stammer. “And…and your mouth.”
“Yeah? Good girl. What else?”
You’re too close to think straight, already falling victim to your orgasm before it’s even found you. “You…your…your…”
“S’okay, baby, come on. Tell me.”
You swallow thickly and will yourself to speak. “Think…think about taking you. About how you’d feel. How you’d…be.”
“How I’d be, hm?” The hand on your hip tightens almost possessively. “How would you want me to be? How would you want me to fuck you?”
 An array of positions flash through your mind. The echoing of his groans and pants in your ear as he fucks you. The way he’d hold onto your leg and push it into the bed. The way he’d pull your hair and demand you take him. That you behave, be good. 
There’s something about him, you realize. Something about his dominance that makes you feel safe. Seen and cared for.
You want him to tell you what to do. Want to give him full control of your body and mind. Make your decisions for you so you don’t have to wrestle with them yourself. You trust him. Trust that he’d always put you first.
“Any way you want,” you finally answer. “Any…any way. Hard…slow…fast…deep. Just wanna be good for you.”
The noise he makes against your pussy is animistic. Virile and obsessed, and his mouth reattaches to your clit almost like a reward. 
“Good,” he nearly growls. “Know you would be. Know you’d be fucking perfect, yeah? Let me stretch this sweet, little pussy anyway I’d like?”
 “Yes. Yes, Harry, please—”
“Just take it, wouldn’t you? Take me so well?” He yanks you down so hard, you wonder if he can even breathe. Truthfully, you don’t think he cares either way. “What else do you think about, sweet girl? Think about me tying you up?”
You nod zealously, sneaking a glance at the headboard almost as though to recreate your fantasy. 
“Yeah? What else? Would you want me to spank you?” He follows this inquiry up with a quick – albeit gentle – slap to your outer thigh. “S’that what you want?”
“Harry—”
“What about your pretty, little throat, hm? D’you want me to hold it in my hand? Squeeze it till you see stars?”
The thought sends you into a frenzy. Stomach flipping in on itself until you’re clenching so hard around his fingers, you’re surprised they don’t break.
“Yeah? Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, slowly and almost inconspicuously sneaking a third digit into play. Filling you exactly the way you need. “My dirty little Cherry just wants to be taken care of, doesn’t she?”
You have nothing more to offer him. No more noises, no more whines, no more pleas. Your throat has gone dry, and your body is trembling almost violently.
He grins. “Then I’ll always take care of what’s mine.”
You’re not sure what does it. If it’s the way he strokes his fingers into that sweet spot in your cunt, the way he skims his tongue against your clit, or if it’s his promise. 
But no matter the cause, your third orgasm overwhelms you. Pulls you down into the deepest part of your pleasure before ripping you apart. Seam by seam.
He swallows every second of it. Attempting to drag the stimulation on for as long as he can before you have to psychically take yourself away in order to breathe. 
“Okay, okay,” you whimper, returning to the bed just beside him. “Can’t…I can’t…”
“Okay,” he agrees in a soft, soothing tone. Quicky reaching out to press his hand to your cheek while his thumb brushes at your heated skin. “Okay, we’re done. Did so good for me.”
Your lashes flutter as your vision slowly returns, and when you see him, you about moan.
During his ravaging of your pussy, the cut on his lip reopened, and now, blood is smeared across his mouth and chin. Glistening from his skin right beside the remnants of you.
You don’t imagine you’ve ever seen something so erotic. You also never imagined you’d find it so appealing, and yet the way it looks painted across his sharp jaw and swollen lips…
You surge forward and kiss him. So hard and so fast, you imagine you’ve made him dizzy. 
Instantly, his palm is pressing to the back of your head. Keeping you against his mouth while slowly pulling you back into his embrace. And he holds you against his chest while moaning something that sounds a lot like, “Fucking hell.”
 You kiss until the sun comes up. The soft, warm beams of light slipping through your curtains, setting the whole room – and your tired bodies – aglow. 
His mouth moves to your neck. “You still with me, baby?”
You smile. “Always.”
“Good.” He leaves one, final kiss. “And you’re feeling all right?”
“Mhm. Are you?”
“Oh, I’m more than all right, sweet girl. M’fucking perfect.”
He guides back onto his chest. Limbs tangling together as he puts your body between his legs until he can hold you properly. Even despite your fussing over his injuries.
But it’s not until you’ve begun to settle that you feel it. “Harry?” you whisper softly.
“Mm?”
“…did you cum?”
He smiles before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Yeah.”
“But I didn’t…I mean I didn’t get to—"
“You just have that effect on me, Cher,” he murmurs, snaking his arms a bit tighter around your frame. “Told you. Making you feel good is all I want.”
You glance up, expression wounded. “Why won’t you let me help? I thought…I mean, you keep saying you want me to, but you never…you won’t let me.”
The bedroom falls silent as he considers this. The sage green in his eye melting into something golden from the reflection of the sunrise.
He reaches out and brushes his thumb across your mouth. Seeming to clean you of the blood that smeared when you kissed.
“I didn’t want this to be about me,” he finally says. “I never do.”
You merely frown. “But I want to do it. Do you not…I mean, do you think I can’t or something?”
A soft chuckle. “Oh, I know you can. Know you’d use this pretty little mouth just right, yeah?”
You nod.
“Yeah.” He squeezes your chin. “I meant what I said. One day. There are a lot of things I want to do with you. Be for you. But right now, I can’t…I’m not in a place where I can offer them to you. Not with…everything else going on.”
Your stomach sinks as you realize. You might not understand the complexities of his job or his life, but you do understand his concern. And you trust that he doesn’t make this decision lightly. 
“Besides,” he adds coyly, “they kind of have a rule about it.”
“Oh, do they?”
“Yeah. Something about reduced testosterone and decreased aggression. I don’t know, s’probably bullshit.” A nonchalant shrug. “Just means I get to keep the focus on you. Which is all I really want, anyway.”
“I can tell,” you tease, reaching up to brush your nose against his. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re perfect.” He says it so easily. As though it needs no thought. “Baby, you have no fucking idea how beautiful you are. Touching you is the closest I will ever get to heaven.”
You wonder how he does that. How he always manages to say exactly what you need to hear. And make you believe it. Every time.
You kiss him again, but it’s slow. Soft and gentle and full of an unspoken emotion that nearly overwhelms you. 
You fall asleep against his heart. His lips in your hair, your fingers on his chest. And for the next few hours, you dream of nothing but him.
By the time you wake, it’s nearly afternoon. Your muscles are sore and your body aches from the decisions and positions of the night before. 
But it’s a good sort of pain. The kind that reminds you of how willing you are to do it again.
You’re both quiet as you stir, and it’s comfortable. As though you’re used to waking up together. Exchanging nothing more than smiles and a hoarse, “Morning.”
After offering him some cereal, you ask if he’d like to take a shower. Maybe change into something else before you take him back to the diner so he can retrieve his car and you can pick up yours from your friend.
He politely declines, but he does agree to your stipulation that you check his wounds before you leave. He even stands perfectly still while you assess each cut and stitch in order to make sure everything is still in place.
Which to your surprise, it is.
Once you’ve gathered your things, you exit your apartment (after locking it as previously instructed), and head for the subway station.
It’s almost strange to see him in the light of day. He’s still as effortlessly striking as before, if not perhaps more. His skin looks a bit more tan, and his hair seems softer in the sun. But he walks with a kind of confidence you almost envy, slinging his arm around your shoulders just like the night before. This time, out of possession.
And you grin the whole way there.
It feels normal. Feels good. Natural. Like it was always meant to be. You and him. Always.
Your heart begins to sink with each step closer you get to the diner. You cling to his hoodie as though it physically hurts to say goodbye. And in turn, he pulls you in tighter to his heart, as if refusing to let you.
“I’ll walk you in,” he murmurs once you reach the parking lot, and you nod gratefully. Already taking in a deep breath as you prepare to watch him leave.
You see your car near the front of the diner, signaling that your friend is here to drop off the keys. And you almost feel nervous because you aren’t sure how to explain Harry. Or if you even need to explain him at all. 
If he’d want you to.
A part of you wants to protect him from everybody else. From their prying eyes and inquisitive questions. From their haughty, judgmental stares and this idea that they know who he really is.
Instead, you take his hand in yours, and squeeze. Offering him one last smile to hold you over until you see him again.
Which you can only hope will be soon.
He pushes the door open and leads you inside. Loosening his grip on you almost regretfully while your heart sinks down into your toes.
But the moment you both step beneath the light, he stops. Suddenly and with a strained inhale as fingers retighten around yours, halting you in place.
Concerned, you glance over the side of his face rather curiously before following his eyeline further into the diner.  
And that’s when you see him. 
“Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your car,” your friend says, sliding off one of the barstools in order to hand you your keys. “I really appreciate it. It was a huge help.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem,” you murmur before looking back to the tense man beside you. “Uh…this is my friend, Jesse. And Jesse, this is—”
“Harry,” Jesse says for you, lips curling up almost knowingly before he’s nodding once. 
Now even more confused, your head tilts while Harry’s skin instantly pales, his jaw clenching as his grip on your hand gets stronger.
But despite your muddled expression, Jesse merely chuckles to himself and steps forward, dragging his eyes from you to the tall stranger holding you.
“I see you finally found my girl.”
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EEEEE I AM HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN
Next Part:
~ Reckless*
Previous Part:
~ Knockout*
~ Full Knockout Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgff@myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge @percysaidnever @prettydelilah @ripesinner @fairytale07 @hannah9921 @mitochondrialeva-blog1 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @buckybarnessimpp @lomlhstyles @be-with-me-so-happily @daphnesutton @ribbonknives @stylesfever @slutforcoffein @rainycowbride @harringtonhundreds @kaybee87 @youcan-nolonger-run @tobesocoldasyou @dylanobandposts21 @cherryshouse
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harrysfolklore · 2 months
Text
30th birthday
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i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.
You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.
From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.
"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Over here, in the kitchen!"
You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.
"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.
"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.
"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.
"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"
"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."
"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."
"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."
"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."
"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."
The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.
Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.
Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.
"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."
"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."
"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."
As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.
Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.
"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."
Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.
"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.
"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.
"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.
The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.
"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."
Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.
"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."
"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."
As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.
After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.
"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.
"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.
"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.
"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."
"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.
"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.
"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."
"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."
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harrysonlylover · 2 months
Text
Instincts*
Summary: Harry’s primal instincts catch up with him.
Trope: Husbandrry (non famous)
Warnings: breeding kink, a hint of corruption kink, dirty talk, a hint of degradation, mentions of pregnancy and body changes.
WC: 1.4k
Masterlist
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Harry lost his sanity in the best way possible.
His mind couldn’t put an effort into focusing on anything except his one and only goal.
Breeding his wife.
It felt like his only purpose in life for a while now. His thoughts were composed of nothing but her ovulation days and how many loads he needed to give her.
Though—she was a bit greedy today.
Her body rested on some blankets and pillows laid out on the ground, with a lit chimney nearby. He towered over her, body glistening with sweat as the fire casted light on his skin.
His tattoos were on full display, curls hanging loosely on his forehead with his cock erect against his stomach, and dripping on her pussy.
She let out small whines as his thumb teased her swollen clit. He coaxed two orgasms out of her with his mouth, something that was set in stone in their sex life.
But—his future baby mama was ovulating, and after giving her two orgasms, it was time to fill her up.
“Look at you darling, legs open and spread. Are you that excited for Daddy’s cum?” He spat on her pussy, allowing it to mix with his dripping pre cum that was torturing her. He didn’t give her his cum yet—he’s just teasing her by allowing a small amount of it to fall on her pulsing pussy.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded immediately, drooling at the thought of getting knocked up.
Everything felt warm and lovely. Their naked bodies being near the fire as he prepared her to receive his load did something to her brain chemistry. Besides, the sight of her husband—acting so primal had her spreading her legs as wide as possible.
“Hmm, gonna be a good mama?” He leaned down, pressing a torturous peck to her glistening pulsating pussy. His tongue licked up the pre cum that dripped down, as he enjoyed the smell of her ovulating pussy that ignited something in him.
“Fill me up, please.” The plea in her voice was rushed. She loved having sex with him, that was a solid fact. But, she was weak for his naked body and thick cock.
His mannerisms and actions changed after wanting a baby. Every single thing was ten times more attractive. Things as simple as his pumped biceps and chiseled abs—or his veiny hand that choked her throat a billion times before.
“Look at you, so pathetic. Begging for my cum, but you can’t help it, can you? You need me to breed you.” He felt lucky for not passing out at the erotic sight in front of him. His wife. His lover, so bare for him with her legs spread, giving him her pussy to use and breed.
Always so good for him.
He grabbed his cock and tapped it at her clit. She tried to jerk her hips, needing some friction, but he was quick to slap her pussy.
“Behave.” He ordered her. He had to breed her properly so he was very adamant on doing everything perfectly.
He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as his cock sank into her warm walls. It was an irreplaceable feeling—especially because he would be impregnating her.
She let out a loud whine, as her fingers gripped the pillows next to her. Her facial expressions displayed relief and ecstasy just like he expected.
“That was exactly what this pussy needed, eh? Felt relieved when I stuffed you.” He grinned, looking down at her body as she rolled her eyes when he went deeper.
Her warm wet walls were driving him insane. Just the idea of having her take his cock on her ovulation day made him dizzy.
He fastened his pace gradually, his hips moving perfectly to hit her favorite spot. Her moans were music to his ears. There was something so lustful in having her lie down and take his cock and cum.
He was ready to keep her up all night to make sure she got stuffed. Besides, his stamina and sex drive were unmatched—which is why she sometimes asked him to use her body and manhandle it as he wished.
“God look at that baby. My cock is so deep inside you.” He pressed his ring-clad hand on her stomach. “See, that means my cum will be everywhere.”
His thrusts were now rough, hitting her cervix and making her breasts jiggle. The sound of wetness has never been this loud, not to mention their skin slapping.The lit fire added to the ambiance, making them feel extra warm and hot.
“You hear that? That’s my cock breeding this pussy.” He smirked at her state—falling apart at the feeling of his thick cock fucking her warm pussy.
“M—more.” She smiled as if she was stuck in a haze.
“Oh, baby, such a cockslut. Used to be my shy virgin girl and now you’re begging me for a baby.” He tsked, feeling his ego inflate at the thought of her progress.
He corrupted his lover, but he wasn’t to blame. His cock was just too good.
He grunted upon looking down to where they were connected. His cock was slick with precum and her wetness, sliding in and out of her hole as she whined and whimpered.
“That’s right. Letting your husband use your hole for breeding.” He pulled away, watching her pussy clench around nothing upon feeling empty, before thrusting back harshly.
Her face was to die for. So pretty just for him. He loved watching her eyes roll back or seeing her sweet smile, knowing that he’s fucking her hard and fast.
She opened her mouth wide open, an indication of wanting him to spit inside. He immediately leaned in, grabbing her face roughly before spitting in her mouth.
“Shit. Dirtiest cockslut.” He sealed their lips together as he continued his brutal thrusts.
Sweat covered their bodies, and everything felt heated. The fire, their lower bodies—along with their skin on skin contact and intense kisses.
“You’ll look so beautiful with your bump and full breasts.” He panted, trying not to cum on spot at the idea.
“Yes—please.” A few tears slipped from her eyes at the intensity of their sex.
His pounding was ruthless. The way his hips drove into her could only stem from good stamina. As if he trained himself to last for her.
“Whose going to make you a mama?” He slowed down his thrusts, laying his forehead against hers.
“You.” She groaned, scratching his back.
“Whose cock is breeding you?”
“Yours.”
“Damn right.” He pulled his body away and wrapped his hand around her throat.
When she’s too gone for him, she wouldn’t tell him that she’s cumming. But he knows her body—so when she began clenching more and mumbled things under her breath, he knew.
“I know baby, let go for me. Let me give it to you.” She loved deep strokes at the end, so he switched to that.
She came on his cock without a warning. Her entire body shook under him as she moaned his name out loud, and scratched his back.
Her pussy gripped him tightly, pulsating around him and it was so fucking warm. He couldn’t hold it and followed her orgasm by filling her up.
It felt otherworldly, releasing in her like his life depended on it—making sure that he was so deep inside so that it catches.
“That’s it, let your womb have it.” The feeling of his hot cum filling her up was euphoric and intense. He prepped her face with kisses, mumbling love confessions, telling her what a perfect wife she was as she stilled his hips inside of her.
“No leaking until I pull out, m’kay?” She can still feel his cock twitching inside her as his cum flowed.
She was too lost in her thoughts, dreaming of her swollen belly and Harry sucking on her lactating tits—
“Baby?” Once he grabbed her chin, she was pulled out of her daydream.
“Are you my good breeding whore?”
She nodded immediately like it was common knowledge.
“Then clench your pussy for Daddy and hold it. No leaking please.” He whispered, before moving her hair away and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
He continued to whisper dirty things in her ear—how this was just the first load and that she deserved way more for being his good girl.
He promised her to stay up till dawn, and frankly?
She couldn’t wait.
——————————————————
Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @straightontilmornin @stilesissaved @daphnesutton @elioslover
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gucciwins · 7 months
Note
hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(
hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍
+
Y/N really liked Harry.
He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten. 
They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating. 
It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall. 
Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her. 
She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose. 
Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright. 
It would be now. 
Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second. 
The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing. 
Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that. 
Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine. 
“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.
Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her. 
He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye. 
A camera. 
It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.
“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.” 
She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?” 
Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.” 
Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers. 
“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.” 
“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.
“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.” 
Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts. 
“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.” 
Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”
“Only for you.” 
Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder. 
“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly. 
Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”
“Only if they let me take the pictures.”
“No work would get done with your pretty face.”
“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response. 
“That you are a pretty distraction.” 
Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed. 
“Harry,” she calls for his name softly. 
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” she tells him honestly. 
“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded. 
Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore. 
He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him. 
“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.
“You sure?”
Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight. 
“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her. 
Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”
“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”
Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.” 
“What do I change?” 
“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.” 
“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?” 
Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?” 
Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.” 
“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.” 
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