Latest Posts by loveleyworld - Page 2

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series PRT 03

"I'm not a serial killer he says.." "To be fair, I said I wasn't a stalker."

FRIDAY, 11:00PM (TW: Drug-use)

The place looked a little worse for wear but still very livable. A lot of decently priced places in the area were about the same. People hung outside, in the hallways and just sort of congregated from apartment to apartment like a college dorm.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Clyde left the door wide open for whoever to come and go. Y/n took in the general state of the apartment and chuckled catching his attention.

"Hey...no judgements. I'm a man. Men live like this." Clyde defended.

"Yeah? I didn't realize men didn't own a trashcan...or a laundry basket." Y/n held up some random boxers resting on the coffee table. Clyde had spun around with a shotgun pointed at her making her freeze.

"You were saying?" Clyde teased.

"I'm not a serial killer he says...and yet here he is holding me at gunpoint." Y/n carefully placed his underwear on the barrel of the gun.

"To be fair, I said I wasn't a stalker." Clyde corrected flicking the underwear off the gun.

"Damn...well you got me there." Y/n put her hands up sheepishly and Clyde smirked.

"Does that make you scared?" Clyde might be a lot of things but scary wasn't one of them.

"Is that what you're trying to do? Scare me?" Y/n stepped towards the end of the rifle and Clyde's eyebrow went up.

"Not particularly." Clyde shifted. Y/n took the end of the shotgun into her hand and appeared to be inspecting it.

"Good because I don't scare easy." Y/n turned back towards the couch and plopped down, taking her jacket off and tossing her bag on the floor. Clyde lowered the gun and laughed.

"Oh yeah? What does scare you then?" Clyde plopped down in a chair facing her.

"You first." Y/n challenged.

"Easy. Goats." Clyde's quick answer with his very serious face made y/n snort out a laugh.

"Goats? Why the hell are you afraid of goats?" She tried to say without crying laughing.

"They're aggressive little fuckers who like to head butt, scale fucking mountains and scream in your face. They're like kids on crack. They're the fucking worst." Clyde explained pulling his phone out and showing y/n a clip of a goat climbing on the side of a mountain awkwardly.

"That...that is pretty startling to say the least. Goats...cannot be trusted." Y/n shook her head trying to rationalize Clyde's fear but in all her years in Nevada, she's never even seen a goat.

"Your turn. What scares you? Clearly not guns." Clyde pointed out.

"This is Vegas. If you haven't been held at gunpoint, can you even call yourself a resident?" Y/n shrugged.

"That's actually super true. I've been shot at way too many times to count." Clyde admitted.

"That's...not shocking at all." Johnny cleared his throat and they looked up.

"Let me snag the keys, I'm going to get some food. The guys and I are starving." Clyde dug in his pocket for the keys and tossed them up to Johnny.

"Do you eat meat?" Clyde asked earning a nod.

"Grab us food too. I'll take it off your gas cash." Before Johnny could argue for money, Clyde was quick to make a food for gas trade. The others filled out after Johnny and shut the door leaving the two sitting in the middle of the room.

They sat in silence for a minute adjusting to being alone together.

"So do you live here alone or does everyone just kind of crash around?" Y/n took in her surroundings. There was only one bed, if you can call it that, that sat on the floor with a bunch of blankets, a big bean bag chair in the corner, the raggedy couch and an armchair that's seen better days. It was a lot more furniture than she would have expected for one person.

"Nah I kind of consider it a bit of a halfway house. Everyone's going somewhere but we all need to crash for a bit. The guys have a room at the end of the hallway and then one across the hall for any girls they bring home for-" Clyde made a hand gesture and y/n laughed.

"You guys have a fucking apartment? Yikes, the smells alone from that room would give me chills." Clyde shook his head.

"I honestly wouldn't know. I don't really frequent that room. It stays pretty occupied anyway." He laughed. Y/n took in a mental note that Clyde didn't seem like someone who brought a lot of girls back to his place for fucking but almost like he was providing sanctuary.

"Oh I have no doubts. Plus you look like a wine and dine kind of guy. Big activities, good music, decent food. A real gentlemen." Y/n turned her body towards him.

"Absolutely. I'm a real Casanova and you're in for a treat." Clyde walked over to his nightstand and rummaged around inside of it pulling out a tray and a lighter, shimming over to plop down next to y/n on the couch.

"The only activity of the evening is to get decently high...if you're cool with that." Clyde hadn't bothered asking but took in her face to make sure he hadn't offended.

"I mean it sounds more like a 3rd date but since you've been stalking me for a minute, I think this will work just fine." Clyde rolled his eyes at her, bringing the blunt to his lips to moisten. The two sat with their knees touching, Clyde rolling at least three blunts knowing that the moment the guys got back, they would want dibs and like clockwork the door swung open and a bag was tossed at y/n.

Clyde merely held up the two blunts and Johnny snatched them with a cheeky grin before bounding back out of the door. The fries in the bag were soggy and the burgers looked like they had been thrown against a wall but y/n wasn't picky. She held out a french fry to Clyde's mouth as held the blunt between his fingers unable to put it down yet.

Something familiar and comfortable settled between them like they had done this for years.

"Jesus what the fuck happened to that?" Clyde gestured to the burger y/n was trying to pick up.

"I'm going to assume it was run over but I'm honestly starving so I'm going to eat it anyway." Y/n didn't hesitate taking a bite and Clyde lit the blunt between his lips. He watched y/n look for a place she could find a napkin and he ran to the bathroom, retrieving a roll of toilet paper and putting it down on the table. She tried not to laugh as she unrolled some to wipe her hands.

Clyde passed the blunt to y/n who took a small hit making sure she didn't choke and embarrass herself, knowing she would deserve all the teasing from Clyde because of his cigarette disaster earlier.

"This is decent weed." Y/n commented.

"Are you surprised?" Clyde asked.

"Kind of. Do you work or do you come from money?" Y/n's question was genuine but Clyde seemed offended.

"What does that matter?" He scoffed.

"That wasn't meant as an insult. I'm just trying to figure out if you're crushing it as a hype man or if you're secretly the son of one of the current Strip residencies." Clyde seemed to simmer.

"I can assure you I am not the son of Vince Neil." She handed him the blunt back and pushed the hair from his face.

"No shit. You would not be this cute if your dad was Vince Neil." Y/n's compliment brought Clyde's mood right back up.

"Aw all I had to do was feed you and get you high and now you're back to trying to have my babies again." Clyde teased nudging her.

"I'm a simple girl. I like simple things." She gave a cheeky grin as his laugh turned into a cough.

"Oh so you like me because I'm simple? Should I be hurt by that or-"

"I'd hardly call you simple. You barrel rolled out of a club, tried to fight a bouncer that was three times your size and brought home a girl you've had a psychic connection with just to point a shotgun at her. Khakis are simple. Grilled cheese is simple." Y/n's explanation of her thoughts on Clyde thus far made a warmth grow in his stomach.

"Man you're really going to hold the whole shotgun thing against me huh? Would it help if I said it wasn't loaded?" Clyde offered.

"That would be so pointless. You literally keep your door open and unlocked with decent weed and at least a few hundred dollars worth of stuff. If it's not loaded, I'd say you're stupid." Clyde passed the blunt back nodding.

"You make a valid point." Y/n turned her body towards Clyde, holding the blunt in her hands but not bringing it to her lips.

"I could probably get over the whole shotgun thing if you let me give it right back." Clyde looked confused. He wasn't sure what she meant or if she was too high to make sense.

"I'm not up for being tasered while being high. I think that would definitely kill the high." Clyde whined weakly

"Open your lips." Y/n instructed. Clyde watched her put the blunt between her lips backwards and lean towards his face, putting her hands on his cheeks. Clyde almost forgot to breathe before she started exhaling the thick smoke between his lips, letting her bottom lip graze his. She was shotgunning the smoke so well, Clyde had to stop himself from super sucking the blunt into his mouth.

When she pulled away to pull the blunt out of her mouth, he laid back into the couch feeling the warmth that was in his stomach turn into a burn that was quickly spreading through his veins.

Y/n knew exactly what she was doing to Clyde and she had no regrets. This was the most relaxed fun she's had in a long time. Something about spending time with him made her feel free.

DATING OLLIE SWAY HEADCANONS ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

➸ pairing: ollie sway x gn! reader

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol and death.

you helped get him through his father’s passing, you comforted him in a way no one else could.

ollie takes you on long drives, the two of you sing along to music and talk for hours. you’d have no set destination, he would just drive until you chose somewhere to go.

along long with drives, he also love taking you on boat rides.

obviously, ollie is obsessed with music. he will play you music for hours, explaing every different aspect of the song he’s playing. he admires how you will listen to him ramble for hours, being genuinely engaged and interested in what he’s saying.

ollie would take you to his grandma’s house on sway lake, every summer. he’d also cook you dinner every night, without fail.

he likes drinking with you, especially given the large stash of alcohol in the sway lake house. the two of you will get drunk, he’ll put on a record and you both will just clumsily dance around the living room.

i think ollie’s love language is physical touch. he loves putting his arm around you while your head rests on his shoulder.

he would let you call him oliver.

We need everyone's help right now to protect the rainforest and Indigenous People

The Amazon Rainforest is under a massive threat. I know you've heard this a million times, but this is different. There is a piece of legislation that will decimate the rights of Indigenous people of Brazil, who have been protecting the rainforest. It's unfathomably bad. It has majority support. And they're voting tomorrow. As reported here, the Bill allows "the Brazilian government to find energy resources, set up military bases, develop strategic roads, and implement commercial agriculture on protected Indigenous tribal lands, without any prior discussion with the affected peoples."

The thing you can do—and I know this sounds overly simple—is sign this petition—and tell your friends to do the same: SIGN HERE.

As reported here, the Bill allows "the Brazilian government to find energy resources, set up military bases, develop strategic roads, and implement commercial agriculture on protected Indigenous tribal lands, without any prior discussion with the affected peoples."

Again, this bill has majority support. You may be wondering, why will a petition signed by people who don't live in Brazil make any difference? Because it will give those opposing it political air cover. It will show the world is with them.

But we need a LOT of signatures.

Please do this simple act and spread the word.

tlsp alex

can’t wait to see what fifa’s excuse is gonna be for this

DUDES

DUDES

reblog for something very lgbt to happen to you on nov 5th

ok i will speak.

the more time harry spends with olivia, the more greasy he looks

take it off

Harry Styles x reader (SOH)

Summary: Right before sex, Harry sees something on Y/n that he's never seen before. masterlist

warnings: light smut, boobs<3, mentions of stick and pokes

w/c: 0.9k

a/n: little blurb since i haven't posted in forever! but i promise i'm writing im just crazy stressed <3 also i am in love with tattoos so much and this is just an indulgent on that lol

"Fuck-"

"Don't you dare stop."

"Wasn't planning on it." Harry moaned, his hand slowly feeling up and down Y/n's body. His lips reattached to hers. "You taste so good."

A steamy night that consisted of teasing hands under the table and kisses when no one was looking. It was a blur to get out of the London club, Harry just remembers Y/n's hand squeezing his ass. They had luckily ran away from the paparazzi that was just arriving to the club before they could get any compromising photos.

But now, in the comfort of Harry's flat, they could be as messy and in love as they want.

"Take off your shirt H." She mumbled, Y/n's mouth trailing down his jaw line.

"Only if you take off yours." Harry could feel Y/n smile against his cheek, leaving one last kiss there before breaking away.

"You're lucky you're so cute." When Y/n grabbed the hemming of her shirt, Harry tore off his, too impatient to wait any longer. Harry ended up helping Y/n take the shirt off; he hasn't quite realized that Y/n always takes longer to take off her shirt just to see Harry get all squeamish.

When Y/n's shirt is removed, she's left in a lace bra that Harry absolutely drools over. He goes headfirst into her neck, kissing slowly and sensually. His hand feeling her left breast while Y/n's hand find Harry's hair and pulls slightly.

"Can I take off your bra." He whispers, figures trailing over the straps. "Please."

She mumbled a faint yes under her breath and Harry is quick to react. Harry climbs more on top of her right after he bra comes off; Harry's mouth goes right on her skin, starting on her perfect jaw line and going lower onto her neck then onto her breast.

Harry was going to continue on but he saw some mark near his hand. He lifts his head to take a second glance and moves his hand from the side of her boob to her lower waist. He saw some black ink, and he knew it wasn't from his hand.

"What's wrong?" Y/n leaned up on her elbows to get a look at what happened and why Harry's mouth isn't on her. The only touch she was getting--other then Harry resting on her --was from Harry's finger on the side of her body. "Why are you poking me?"

"You have a tattoo?"

"Uhm, yeah?" She stated it like a question, but was curious to know the problem. "Why are you acting like this? It's just a crescent tattoo."

"I just didn't realize you had one" He admitted. "Does that make me a bad boyfriend?"

"You never noticed the tattoo on my boobs?" She gasped, shocked smile on her face. "But your obsessed with them how have you not noticed it?"

"In my defense the tattoo is on the side of your boobs." Harry unconsciously held her other breast, it made her giggle a bit, just out of pure ridiculous. "You know I like to see them straight on."

"Do you like it?"

"Your boobs? Of course!" Harry quickly said, kissing her nipples quickly then gently then kissed her face.

"The tattoo, love."

"Well, I love it too!" Harry quickly said. "I just felt bad that I haven't realized until now."

"Good because I have an appointment to next week for another." She kissed the side of his cheek, sitting up to do so.

"Ohh, what'cha planning on?"

"I want to get it on my thigh but I'm not sure if I want to replace the stick and poke I did in school or not." She shrugged, her finger trailing over the tattoo collection on his chest. She didn't want to admit it out loud, but tattoo's were always such a turn on for her. Little intricate designs all over Harry, they just looked amazing.

"Stick and poke in school? What crowd were you hanging out with?" Harry laughed.

"I did it myself actually." Her hand ghosting over her thigh. "Not very well obviously. But the tattoos I did on others were pretty good, should still be on them."

"You gave out tattoo's? How old were you?"

"Dunno, maybe sixteen?"

"Sixteen?" Harry's mouth was wide open, smiling a little, but mainly in shock. "And you were already a tattoo artist?"

"I was a girl with ink and a clean needle." Y/n shrugged. "They offered like fifty quid per tattoo too, and I really wanted more clothes ." She laughed, looking back up towards Harry.

Y/n's hand trailed lower to Harry's groin, he moaned which caused Harry to loose all focus of tattoos and lean in to kiss her. It got heated quickly but it was no surprise since they were about to have sex a couple minutes before. Harry's hand rested on her tattoo and side boob, his finger started tracing the tattoo too, starting to slowly memorize it just like Y/n has done with all of his tattoos.

"Can you do one for me?" Harry asked. "I want one thats in an area close to my dick and I don't really want a tattoo artist to see that." They both laughed, Y/n starting to give a hickey on the side of Harry's neck.

"I didn't hear an answer." Harry complained then gasped when the Y/n lightly bit down.

"I'll give you a tattoo." She decided. "But I don't take normal payment methods."

Harry chuckled, giving her a kiss. "I think I can give you something else."

Tag list

@uhuhuh @sucker4angstt @b-reads-things @augustfaultline @bxtchboy69 @japanchrry @lilbredsticc @daydreamingofmatilda @springholland @cacapeepee @yourgoldengirls @tenaciousperfectionunknown @timmyslover @mxltifxnd0m @lukewearingbeanies @haarrrys 

Jack Shit

Summary: In which Jack Chambers is not a selfish, egotistical man-child with raging control issues that apparently wants to climb into Alice's womb like she's his mommy, but instead just a regular guy with a different set of control issues.

There is absolutely nothing better than the taste of him.

You’ve never felt so depraved. So irrevocably addicted to someone. Every fucking inch of the glorious man sitting just across from you.

His smile. His hair. His fucking arms, and hands, and fingers.

His fucking thighs.

You could just drool. You’ve never felt so pathetically needy in your life. He’s laughing at a joke one of his friends made, running his palm down his chin and your eyes fall to the facial hair that you absolutely adore.

Your thoughts are sinful. Looking at him like he’s sex on a stick. Truthfully, you’re almost embarrassed to be remembering him in such a way, and maybe chemically something is off in your body, but you don’t even care.

Because look at him.

You imagine everyone in the room can feel the tension. The way you’re attempting not to squirm in your seat as you look on. As you watch him settle into his chair as his legs spread comfortably.

Fuck, you could just moan. You have to pull your lip between your teeth and turn your head just to find a moment of reprieve.

And after what feels like hours of pure, unadulterated torture, he seems to notice, head cocking to the side before he nods his chin at you wordlessly. 

You say nothing. Shake your head. Chew on the inside of your cheek.

His eyes narrow thoughtfully before his long finger lifts into the air and beckons you forward. 

You feel your stomach drop, so cock-whipped by this man that you’re standing to your feet before you can think better of it.

The rest of the group continues their chatter as you make your way toward where he resides. And before you have a chance to sit beside him, he’s sneaking an arm around your hip to tug you onto his lap.

Shit.

Both a blessing and a curse and your legs pull shut within an instant as his head dips to find your ear.

“What’s going on with you, hm?” he murmurs, soft and silky, which certainly doesn’t help. “What’s the matter?”

His hand finds your leg. Innocent enough, mostly in an attempt to grab your attention.

But you’re too far gone, breath hitching at the feel of his skin against yours and he takes note of this immediately.

“What?” he repeats, a tremor of concern in his voice as he glances over the flutter of your lashes. “What’s the matter, angel?”

You could kill him, you really could. Your throat clears gently as you shake your head, now slightly mortified by the thoughts running wild inside your head. 

“Nothing. M’fine.” You won’t meet his eye. Can’t. If you do, you’re done for.

“Liar.” His tone is playful, yet the way he hisses the simple word sends chills right down to your cunt. “I know you better than you think I do. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you repeat, hoping to sound at least a little convincing. “I just…I’m ready to go home.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks upward. “Why, you all right?”

The gentle lilt of trepidation has you reeling, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight the urge to just climb on top of him.

Your knee begins to bounce, lip back between your teeth as you tug. Commanding yourself to remain indifferent. Relaxed. “Yeah, I just…I’m just—”

Suddenly, a look of realization passes over his face. And pure, unadulterated glee. He leans closer, nose brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Angel, are you dripping?”

You feel your head spin, your skin growing hot and your tongue going numb.

You don’t have to answer for him to know it’s true.

His fingers rub delicate circles into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, subtle enough to slip beneath the observation of everyone else in the room but determined enough that you can’t focus on anything else.

You exhale a deep breath, hand landing over his as you squeeze his knuckles. “Shit, don’t…don’t—”

“Don’t what, hm?” He brings his hand higher and you still at the sensation. “Think it’d be really unfair of me to leave you like this, don’t you?”

You imagine it would be unfair, but you’re so deep in your lust for this man, you don’t imagine you’ll survive if he attempts to do something about it.

When you meet his question with silence, his grip becomes tighter. Unrelenting. “Angel,” he warns, subtly yet forcefully tugging you further along his thigh. “Don’t test my patience.”

And you aren’t trying to test him. God, you can’t even fathom the thought, and yet your own body betrays you as your voice disappears into thin air the moment he asks a question.

And because Jack Chambers is an evil, sadistic, and relentless man…he answers the question for you.

Despite the room full of people, he slips his hand up your leg until it disappears beneath the soft hem of your dress.

Nobody notices. Maybe you want them to, maybe you don’t. But you notice. Feel the way those long fingers graze your inner thigh as they travel up. Up and up and up until they find the silk of your underwear. 

You also notice his breath hitch. Rather pleased at his obvious enjoyment of what he’s finding. The way, despite his power, he’s still overcome at the thought of you.

You watch his lips mumble something. You don’t catch what, exactly, but that hardly matters because he’s finally touching you. Thumb down the front of the fabric as he applies the subtlest amount of pressure. Just enough to make you squirm. Enough to have you sucking in a sharp gasp as you turn to hide your face in his neck.

“Shh,” he warns, cadence soothing and gentle. Soft and reassuring. It’s odd, the way he can seem both animalistic and tender all at once. You imagine that’s what you adore most about him. How he makes you feel both safe and terrified. “I’ve got you, yeah?”

He does, he’s got you, and you nod. You’ve never needed him to get you so badly.

A bit more pressure this time around. Up and down. Pressing. Circling. Kneading. Until you physically feel a blood vessel about to pop from how hard you’re trying not to whine. Until your stomach is cramping from the pain of holding the pleasure at bay. The way your thighs burn from attempting to squeeze them shut around his hand.

And the voices around you. Everyone laughing and talking and drinking and singing along to the music. Nobody pays you two any mind. If someone were to look over, they’d simply think you were whispering a secret in his ear. 

And you are. Repeatedly. “Please, please, please.” Desperate and fraught. Needing him to take you home, or to the car, or even to the fucking hallway if that means he’ll give you what you want.

He’s so close to going a bit further. You wish he would. Need him to. Need him to actually touch you. Skin on skin. No more of this over-the-panties bullshit. 

And he knows it. Knows what you need and is refusing to give it to you and you’re not sure why but you could kill him, you really could.

But that might have to wait until tomorrow because right now, with the thought of getting caught so close, and his hand much closer…you realize, you’re done for. Because skin on skin or not, you’re about to tip over the edge. His practiced and determined touch bringing you right to the cliff as he holds you there. Dangles you by one fucking finger.

And you can feel it. Bubbling. Ready to tip over at a moment's notice and it’s almost there, just a couple more seconds, and you’ll have to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming, and it’s so good and so close, and just one more second—

He stops.

Pulls his hand back.

Leaves you there. On the cliff. Dangling. Falling. Disappearing into the black abyss.

“Ja…Jack,” you just barely manage to whisper as he smooths the hem of your dress along your thighs, as if putting you back together. “What…what—”

“You never answered my question,” he tells you calmly, green eyes finally looking up to meet yours. “My angel knows better than that.”

You exhale a tense sigh. “Jack—”

“Off,” he demands, patting your hip to signal he wants you to stand to your feet.

But you hardly can, legs wobbly and chest caving in on itself. “Jack, I—”

“Off,” he repeats, a bit sterner, and immediately, you’re up. “Good. Go sit down and wait for me to take you home.”

“Jack—”

“Don’t push it, darling.” His tone hardens, lids narrowing as you feel the urge to cry bubbling its way up your throat. “Next time, you’ll tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll be good to you.”

“No, Jack, I promise…I was listening, I just—”

“S’too late now, Angel,” he hums, that familiar smirk attempting to sneak its way into his expression as he pulls his brows together and throws his arm over the back of his seat. His chin nods toward you as you settle on the couch. “Good girl. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

You suck in a deep breath. Hold it. Nails digging into your thighs. “Jack…please—”

“Uh uh,” he warns, head shaking once. “You can wait.”

“Jack—”

“You can wait.” He regards you carefully, and you can see the sadistic pleasure settle behind his eyes. “That’s it. Just like that. Sit there and behave for me.”

And you do. For the rest of the long, tumultuous evening. You sit there. You wait. You don’t make a sound.

But you do plan your revenge.

And as you watch him laugh with his friends and throw you a knowing wink, you smile through gritted teeth.

He’s so fucking in for it now.

And you’re gonna make it hurt.

Full Masterlist

studio love | h.s.

well, i’ve returned with something about harry for the first time in almost 3 years.. finally got my brain to turn back on and write for him. i really like the backstory i created here so i think i might keep it going as a series and they’ll be connected but also can be read standalone, please do let me know what you think. i do really like the way this turned about and i hope you do too.

its husband!harry i love you already

warnings: smut (please only read if you are 18+ years of age), language

words: 10.9k (harry writes and records a song that will never be released but still enlists you for help with it)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The incessant vibration of your phone ringing pulls you from the near catatonic state you had fallen into while watching some random movie you found on tv. A smile breaks out on your face when you catch sight of the contact name and picture bringing your phone to life. Your heart picks up happily in your chest at the call. You nearly drop the phone in your haste to answer it. 

“Hi.”

“Hello, m’baby,” the voice on the other end is rough; like it’s been used all day. There’s a fluttering in your stomach at the gruffness and you feel bad for having that swooping excitement when you know he’s tired. It’s just that it’s so attractive. 

You smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure, my heart?”

“I was just wonderin’ what you were up to?”

Letting out a sigh, you clutch the phone tighter to your ear and sink deeper into the couch. “Technically, you could say I'm watching a movie. But, before you ask, I couldn’t tell you at all what I’ve been watching.”

A laugh rings out through the phone and you let out another sigh- this one content as it settles something within you. That sound is like home to you. “Yeah, you tend to do that.”

You hum, picking at a loose thread on the blanket that is currently covering your legs, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just in the studio.” 

“Yeah? When are you gonna be home?” 

There’s a noise that sounds like it was sucked through his teeth. “About that…” he trails off. 

“Harry..” you whine out his name, dramatically, close to something a child would do. “I miss you. And I’m so bored.”

“You love me, right?” Harry questions, sounding like he’s close to laughing after ignoring your whiny complaints. By this point in your relationship, he’s used to how needy you can get and he truly just finds it amusing. Because he knows he doesn’t neglect you for very long; normally it’s only a few hours a day but you’ll miss him regardless.

And he can’t complain because he just ends up the same way if you’re too busy for a few hours to give him your attention.  

The affronted noise that leaves you, at his question, breaks a laugh out of Harry and your offense to the question lessens. “I’ve been willingly married to you for four years, Harry.”

Choosing to get married young came with a lot of concerns, a lot of questions. Especially since one half of the marriage was just starting to make headway with a solo career after coming out of the worlds largest boy band and the other was just a measly author. It raised so many questions: why would you do this so young, are you pregnant, what’s the rush, what if you guys don’t work out, what if your careers pull you apart. None of those questions bothered you because you just knew, you knew from the moment you’d met that it was meant to happen this way. There was no point in waiting when you both just knew you’d end up married, whether it was at the ages of 23 and 24 or now at the ages of 27 and 28. Your relationship didn’t really change once you got married either; you’re still that same sickeningly in love couple that does everything together, can’t stand being apart, and is always on top of one another. A couple that hardly ever gets sick of the other's presence and just wants to always be around one another. 

Your relationship is strong. You never really worried about it. Never worried about it coming to an end. It helps that no one outside of your guys’ private circle knows that you’re married as well. There’s no pressure on your relationship, no outsiders chiming in on how they feel about your relationship and how you’re too young to be in such a serious relationship. They will never understand how your relationship has been serious since the moment you’d started dating. That you’ve been wearing each other’s wedding rings since about six months into your relationship, even if you weren’t married yet. 

Sure, the public knows that you’re together- can’t really hide it with the status your husband holds but it is private. You’re rarely ever seen unless it’s at an event or at a concert, or some sleazy paparazzi has been following you around. The fans you do run into in public respect your privacy as much as you ask them to. But, even with how private you are, you’re not shy with social media- you use it ten times more than Harry ever will again. But you don’t exploit your relationship though, you value it too much to do something like that. Regardless, the fans go absolutely insane when Harry can be heard far off in the background at the very end of a video, or even if it’s just his hand in the corner of a picture. 

But nothing else truly matters, no public status, prying fans, or anything in between when you’ve been happily married to the love of your life for over four years now and you’ve never been happier or healthier. Never been so in love. In fact, you feel more in love every day. 

“Yes, baby, I know, I have been there through it all.” Harry giggles and your heart just continues to swell at the sound. “But, like, I meant more of like a right now situation and not overall. I know you love me but, like, do you love me enough to leave the house and come to the studio to help me with something?”

You squint your eyes even though he can’t see you. “Why? Wasn’t it a full session today? What do you need my help for? Won’t I get in the way with everyone there?”

“You’re never, ever, in the way m’love.” he states and even though you can’t see him, you can just see the hard stare set in his eyes as they bore into yours and the seriousness in his face. You whisper out an okay just before he continues, “but, no one is here- they all left for the night.”

A frown pulls at your lips, “Then why aren’t you coming home, too?”

Harry let out a huff, “We recorded this song today, one that I won’t ever release.”

“Why record it then?” you question when Harry takes a pause. 

“I want you to hear it. I really like it and I want to finish it but I feel it’s missing something. I know if you were to hear it, you’d be able to help me.”

You let out a thoughtful hum and tilt your head back to rest on the cushion of the couch, “Did you record it with me in mind?“

“Always, baby.” You can just hear the smile on his face. 

He has told you multiple times that you are the reason he can create his music. His muse. 

And you can’t help but smile at him even though you’ve decided to give him a hard time, “You can’t just play it over the phone?”

It’s Harry’s turn to let out an affronted noise, “I thought you knew me better than that, love.”

You laugh. 

“You need the full immersive experience. I can’t believe you’d suggest over the phone.” he scoffs and you can picture him shaking his head at you. 

You continue to laugh for a few moments, the noise he made triggering a laugh attack that you just can’t stop. Harry laughs too, his melodic chuckle mingling with yours like a song. One you can listen to forever.  

“But it’s so late and I’ve already showered,” You continue to complain through your laughs. 

“Oi, will you stop fuckin’ with me, please?” 

There’s an underlying tone of irritation in his voice and you calm down enough to only a few giggles. You love him so much. 

“If you don't get your cute ass up off the couch, right now, and get here, I will just stay here tonight.”

You sit up and reach for the remote on the coffee table and turn off the tv. “You think my ass is cute?” you ask as you get up and make your way to the stairs. 

Letting out a dramatic sigh, Harry tuts at you, “Of course that’s all you heard.” You’re almost positive he’s shaking his head. “Will you please just come here?”

“Of course I will, baby. I was only messing with you.” He lets out a hum and you set your phone down on the bed and put it on speaker so you can continue to speak with him as you get dressed to leave. “I like watching you work. It’s very hot.”

He expertly avoids the compliment like he always does, “So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’m just putting on some clothes and I’ll be right there.” 

“Wait, were you naked? You can always come like that.” You can just hear the smirk that’s plastered on your husband's face. 

“Isn’t that how I am when I usually do?” you question. 

“Oh, you cheeky minx. I’m glad your mind is in the gutter because so is mine.”

Your body flushes at his words, at the possible things he’s thinking of. “Isn’t it always?”

“How could it not be?” he challenges and there’s a clatter of something hitting the floor in the background; a soft curse follows it. It makes you smile. “You are m’wife.”

“Okay,” you blush, your voice taking on the shy tone it normally does when he compliments you. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Mmm, good.” He hums.  “Do drive safely, will you? I’ll see you in a bit, m’love. I love you.”

“I love you.”

-

With it being almost midnight, the normal receptionist of the building is gone for the night and in her place is the security guard that takes over after hours. His name is Dan and he’s a very nice man that’s always excited to see you. 

“Mrs. Styles!” He greets, giving you a wave. “Another long night?”

“Hi Dan,” you smile at him, “and it does seem that way!” you continue while walking through the lobby. 

“He’s in studio 5.”

You give him one last wide smile as you turn the corner to where the elevators are. You’ve been here so often in the past few months that Harry’s been using this studio, that you can nearly do it with your eyes closed. The door is slightly open when you reach it and you gently push inside, relaxing at the dim lighting of the room. Further relaxing when you see your husband hunched over at the soundboard, clicking away on his laptop. 

A song is filtering through the speakers at a low volume, too low for you to really catch anything from it but the bits you can hear are awfully sultry- more sultry than you’ve ever heard from him before. You’re definitely intrigued and you know that you gave him a hard time with him asking you to come down here but you sure are excited to hear the song to its full potential. 

Harry turns around when the door locks shut behind you, a smile brightening up his face when he takes in your frame. His eyes trail all over your body and it makes you flush, the intensity of his gaze never failing to make you feel like you’re about to catch on fire. Your knees wobble a bit underneath you and you prop yourself up against the door to make sure you don’t collapse as he starts to make his way over to you. Even after all these years, he still makes you feel unbelievably fluttery; like you could take flight with just a simple look from him. You hope it never changes. 

His smile is borderline teasing as he watches you watch him cross the room, over to where you’re resting against the closed door. Your heart swells in your chest; the adoration in his eyes makes it hard to breathe even though you know for fact that your own eyes mimic his. Know for a fact that your eyes have hooded and everything when you tip your head back the closer he gets so you can hold the eye contact. 

His hands come up to frame your face, his rings cool against your heated skin- a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand- and brushes one of his thumbs across your bottom lip before replacing it with a gentle press of his lips. The kiss is so gentle that you just melt right into him, your shoulders sagging and a peaceful feeling spreading through your entirety. It’s such a sweet greeting, one that you didn’t realize you were craving until you got it. You’re never truly at peace when you’re away from him. 

“Mmm,” he hums appreciatively, placing three quick kisses to your lips before pulling away to rest his forehead to yours. He takes in a deep breath, his eyes closing as he does, “I’ve missed you.”

You bring your hands up to wrap around his wrists, your thumbs brushing over the backs of his hands as they still hold onto your face. “Me, too.”

You both just stand there for a moment, breathing each other in- taking a moment to recalibrate after being apart for the better part of the day. 

It only takes a few moments for Harry to settle, his heart rate evening out as he too becomes peaceful in your presence. “Kinda upset you didn’t turn up naked.”

Harry pulls back a bit, his hands dropping to the sides of your neck. His eyes trail over your, clothed, body like he hasn’t seen you in months and not just a few hours. Your heart jumps at the lust slightly clouding his eyes as they linger a bit on your exposed thighs. 

“Dan sure would’ve gotten a show if that were the case.”

His eyes jump back up to yours and your breath hitches slightly in your throat at the rate in which they’re darkening. “He’d only be so lucky.” The smirk plastered on his face makes you giggle, borderline nervously, as he shamelessly compliments you. It doesn’t matter how often he does it, you will never get used to the genuine compliments he showers you with on a daily basis. He’s just so unabashed in his affections towards you and it will always make you swoon. 

Your hands drop from Harry’s wrists as he starts to trail his own down the sides of your body to where they stop on your ass. He gets a good grip before he’s pulling you flush against his body. His touchy neediness shines through and it’s clear that you’ve been on his mind most of the time you’ve been apart. 

“You really missed me, huh?” You tease, laying your palms flat against his chest. Your own chest heaving a bit at the sudden, closer, proximity to your husband. You missed him just as much today, craving his touch on you in any way you could have it. 

“You know I always do, baby,” he murmurs as he dips down to place a delicate kiss to the soft, sensitive, skin just below your ear. “Can’t be away from you for too long without feeling like breakin’ down.”

You absolutely know the feeling. 

“Same,” you mumble, kissing his pouty lips. “What did you so desperately need my help with here instead of coming home?” You accompany your question by running one of your hands through his messy hair, his eyes falling shut at the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp. 

Harry places a kiss to the arm closest to his lips before he grabs your hand out of his hair and slots his fingers with yours to tug you across the room. He slides your bag off your other shoulder and places it down on the coffee table before continuing to pull you towards the chair he was in before you’d gotten there. The song playing gets a bit louder as you come to stand in front of the soundboard and you were right to describe it as sultry. 

It’s almost daunting as well, like it holds a chilling tone to it instead of the upbeat, more groovy, songs he usually creates. It feels like the complete opposite of what he normally embodies but when you catch a few of the lyrics it makes all the sense in the world. The lyrics are racy and the chords of the bass and the strum of the guitar are extremely sexy. The song is so incredibly sexual that you feel yourself heat up. 

He’s crafted a very inappropriate song and you’re honestly so impressed. Harry has created songs with cuss words in them, with lyrics that are sexual and a peek into how he feels about things but they’re ones he’s always just messed around with to break loose his creativity. They always remained rough recordings and run throughs but this sounds almost like it’s finished. Like it would be released if it weren’t so deeply personal. The song is basically a direct explanation of his most intimate time with you. 

You’d be embarrassed that everyone else heard it today while recording it, if it wasn’t so ridiculously good. The song is so good. 

It honestly kind of reminds you of the night you shared on your anniversary last month. The vibe of the song is what you’d picture as a backtrack to that night if it were a movie or something. 

Harrys grabs your attention as he grips onto your waist, the warmth of his hands radiating through your shirt. He pulls you down into his lap, situating you slightly so you’re sat more sideways than anything else- most likely so he can see your face and you can see his. His tattooed arm secures itself around your waist, his hand pressing into your belly to keep you in place. You smile at the placement, placing your hand to rest over his. 

“Uhm,” he pauses to clear his throat when his voice cracks a bit. He continues after a moment, while messing around with something on his laptop, “Our anniversary night has been playing in m’head like a movie. I haven’t been able to really work on anything since.”

A big smile slowly starts to make its way across your face at his explanation, absolutely giddy at the fact you were so spot on- so in sync. You know what he’s dealing with. That night was so amazing you haven’t really been able to move on from it. You and Harry have always had a wonderful connection, emotionally and physically. And because you’ve had such a wonderful emotional connection from the very beginning, your sex life is just the best you’ve ever had. Harry has also expressed this to you on more than one occasion. The love you share is just so- so deep you can’t ever see it changing. 

You’re both just in love. 

“That red room just really stuck with me, y’know?” Harry chuckles, the noise coming out raspier than normal. Now, it makes sense as to why that lust has been simmering in his eyes since the moment he set his eyes on you. He’s been singing about that exhilarating night, all day. His hand tightens on your belly and the butterflies floating around just flap a bit harder. “It’s really heavy on the instrument, with a sort of alluring crescendo. The bass is really what conveys how I feel about the night.”

“It was a really good night,” you whisper, catching his attention as he turns his head to look at you. His pupils are blown and you can see how he’s become a bit dazed, like he’s recounting the night. 

“Really good,” he agrees, nodding his head absentmindedly as his eyes flit down to your lips momentarily. A heat is building very rapidly in the pit of your stomach and you really want to rip off his clothes. He clears his throat, looking back to his laptop. “I’ve never made something so sensual before but this song is solely about you and only you, so it makes sense. I was able to find a way to express the night without explicitly mentioning anything we did.”

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest at his words, your blood rushing through your body and making you so unbelievably hot that you want to strip down to exactly how he wished you to be when you got here. He looks back at you again and the tension that’s built between the two of you is so palpable that if anyone were to walk in, they wouldn’t be able to break it. You honestly didn’t think anyone could still be so entranced with someone after having been with them for so long, always having heard stories of the novelty of the relationship falling away- but not with Harry. Every day feels just like the first day you’d had with him. 

Harry’s eyes get even more dazed as he leans closer to you, like an invisible string is pulling him in and you know for a fact he feels the same way about you as you do with him. He presses his lips heavily to yours, keeping them there in a kiss that is clearly just to alleviate some of the pressure building up between the two of you. He wants you to listen to this song and get your input on it before he furthers anything. 

He’s a bit breathless when he pulls away. “Everyone really liked it, liked the vibe. But I don’t care about them. It’s only you I want an opinion from.” 

You nod, dazed yourself from the night you’re so vividly imagining and from the kiss he just granted you with. “You said it was almost done? What did you want to add?” 

He greedily kisses you again, only adding to the fire building within you. “I want to hear what you have to say first before I tell you my idea.”

You nod again, taking a kiss from him this time before telling him to play the song. The fierceness of which he’s looking at you makes you swallow thickly, goosebumps rising across your exposed skin as you look back at him- knowing the implications of his gaze.

Harry forcibly tears his eyes from you, almost reluctantly settling his focus back on his laptop. There’s some clicks on his keyboard but you can’t be bothered to look away from him, the furrow of his eyebrows endearing you far too much to focus your attention elsewhere. The same song from before restarts, this time louder and the rumbling baseline can be felt in your soul. It sends the heat building in your lower stomach directly between your thighs and you have to shift yourself a little to lessen the sudden pressure there. A smirk forms on your husband's lovely face as he glances at you, because he knows what a deep baseline does to you. 

Your eyes slip closed as an echoey guitar strum is layered over the bass. All the instruments stacked together make up a very slow and sensual melody that perfectly depicts how sexy of a night your anniversary was. It’s still strange to know that Harry is the one that put this together, this darker ambiance in a song that doesn’t seem like it would make sense with someone like your husband. He’s typically such a bright, happy go lucky person and to hear him make something so mystical, so ominous almost, is just odd. 

But then his voice filters through and it makes sense. The lyrics mixed with the rasp of his voice, the gruff timbre he’s singing in pulls it all together to compile the sensual song he was describing to you before. It makes you shiver. Makes you feel like you’re about to catch fire. 

Your Harry is so incredibly talented. 

You find yourself swaying a bit to the lyrics as they reverberate through the speakers and into your senses. They’re so subtle that if you didn’t know Harry personally you wouldn’t really have a clue what he was talking about. Even then, you know for a fact the way he’s put together such beautiful sentences that what he’s saying truly only makes the most sense to you and you absolutely love it. 

You can just hear the love within the lyrics even though the tone of his voice is just filled with the most amount of lust you’ve heard from him on a song. 

There’s a guitar solo in there that makes your chest heave a bit and your nose tingle. The undertone of the drums during the solo makes you super proud of Sarah because you can hear the intricacy of them and it creates such a wonderful sound. Your body is practically vibrating at this song and you truly want to just rip Harry’s clothes off and show him how much you appreciate him putting this song together for you because of you. 

The song ends with such a high note from Harry that your jaw drops at the sound, the way it trails off with the slow strum of the guitar makes excited tears spring up in your eyes. 

Your reaction warrants a huff of air from Harry that hits your cheek and it startles your eyes open because you didn’t realize he’d gotten so close. Your gaze immediately meets his and you truly didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to get any darker but they surely did and it has your breath hitching in your throat. His eyes glance down to your chest where he can see the stutter of your breathing before trailing up to your lips, looking at them for a moment too long before he places a kiss to your warm cheek. The hand on your belly is tighter than it was before the song started and you only just now notice it when he tries to pull you even closer to his body, seeking out any contact from you. 

Wiggling a little to try and relieve some of the heat that’s built up between your thighs during the song, Harry lets out a grunt when your leg brushes up against the hardness that’s settled between his own thighs. The song has definitely made the impact it was meant to, his pupils are blown and your body is so heated that a shiver of excitement spikes through you. He’s looking at you so intensely, so so so intensely that your heart feels like it’s crawling up into your throat, creating a thick lump that’s hard to swallow around. It brings a wetness to your eyes and a shallowness to your breathing- it’s a look so full of undeniable love but so so so heavy with lust that it overwhelms you. His own chest heaves with heavy, deep, breaths that you can tell he’s focusing on keeping as calculated as possible as his eyes trace every inch of your face; like he’s trying to find the answer of how you liked the song before he even asks. 

You know the answer is clear on your face but you still have to say something. 

“That song was very sexual, H.” you whisper, your voice barely able to reach an octave high enough for him to hear but the way he lets out a tiny nod, you know he heard you. 

A deep breath from you pushes you closer to him when he breathes out a near desperate, “Yeah.”

“And your voice, baby,” you close your eyes for a moment to get your brain to straighten out. “I didn’t know you could get so deep.”

His eyelids get heavier when he looks at you, eyes barely visibly as he looks up at you through his lashes. His hand tightens on your lower belly. “I can get very deep.”

A tingle rushes through you at his words, the double entendre heating you up to your core, but you ignore him in favor of trying to get to where he needs your help. But first: “What did you do before recording your vocals? Gargle some rocks?”

Harry let out a loud laugh, one that throws his head back and makes his chest vibrate, the feeling of it transferring through your shoulder and into your chest where your heart swells. It has you leaning further into him, loving how everything just clicks into place for you when he laughs. You so badly want to press your mouth to his, to have him laugh right into you. To swallow down every sound he makes so you can embody them. But you know that if you do that now, you won’t ever make it to the part where he’ll get the help he’s requested from you. 

There’s just something about his kisses that make you tap out, make you forget everything other than the feeling of him and you crave that more than anything. The soft plushness of his lips against yours, or anywhere over your skin, just feels so right. Each press of his lips to yours or to your body is always exciting, always feels new. It settles something deep in your heart, in your soul, every single time without fail. 

And just by the way Harry always finds a way to get his lips on you; whether it be a greeting or parting kiss, a simple press just to show he’s there, a kiss to the forehead or somewhere in your hair you know he feels the same way. He’ll press delicate kisses to your arms or the back of your hand, if that’s all he can reach when the urge consumes him. They’ll be pressed up or down your legs depending on what he’s doing. To your back or shoulder, stomach or neck. Always finding a way or simple reason to kiss you. To feel you. 

You shake your head a little to get yourself back on track, realizing he’s stopped laughing and is just watching you. You have to clear your throat before speaking. “You wanted to add something?”

Harry nods. 

“What is it? Because it sounds so good as it is. The lyrics, the vocals, the instruments.” You exhale, fighting the urge to fan yourself. Your face and body is so incredibly hot. You shift on his lap again, needing some sort of relief. “I feel like I could explode, baby.” You whisper, leaning a bit closer to him. His breath hitches in his throat and you watch dazedly as his adam’s apple bobs with his harsh swallow. Grabbing his free hand, you pull it up to rest on your chest, “I mean just feel my heart.”

Harry’s hand is so heavy on your chest and his fingers flex when you’re positive he realizes the pounding of your heart. It is incredibly distracting and he has to clear his own throat before speaking, “If you could add one thing, what do you think? I have an idea but I want to know what you think first.” 

Your mind immediately jumps to what you thought of the moment you heard the opening guitar riff, “Moans.”

The hand resting on your chest trails heavily down between your breasts until his fingertips rest just above his other hand. His lips have popped open in surprise at your suggestion. “Are you serious?”

You nod hesitantly, pulling back from him slightly, “Is that too… much?”

“God, no,” Harry breathes out, “fuck,” and surges forward to place a searing kiss to your lips. The hand, not holding onto you for dear life, comes up to wrap around the back of your neck to hold you in place as he slips his tongue into your mouth with absolutely no preamble whatsoever. His tongue swipes across yours tantalizingly and you moan into him. He happily moans back, pressing into you greedily- like he needs you to breathe. 

“The way you know me, fuck,” he murmurs, pulling away but continuing on with pressing desperate kisses down the side of your face and to your jaw. They make smacking sounds because of how quickly they’re being placed on your skin and the breaths he lets out between each one are harsh. “Fuck,” he repeats just before he latches onto your pulse point and sucks stingingly at your skin. “Know me so well, m'love.”

The connection you have with your husband has always been such a turn on for the both of you. It’s been such a prominent part of your relationship from the very beginning, the synchronicity between the two of you is almost scary- especially to people looking in from the outside. You coincide outfits without meaning to, mannerisms, speech, thoughts- quite literally anything tangible between the two of you. You’re so in tune with one another that you can know how the other is feeling with a simple look or caress. You firmly believe that your bodies are connected in a way most people can only imagine; your souls being half of the same one that were separated but found their way back to one another. 

A shiver runs down your spine when he mutters, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

He kisses you again, absolutely filthy with the way he pushes in with his tongue and tries to pretty much climb into you through your mouth. Your arms wind around his neck and you pull him even closer to you, not minding the way he’s just absolutely trying to tear you apart. The kiss only deepens and he holds you against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he were to loosen his grip even just a fraction. 

The heat builds quickly between you as you just devour one another in a kiss that is going to lead to one place and one place only. You squeeze your thighs together in hopes of some sort of friction, wishing more than anything you were straddling his hips so you could grind down onto him. Harry pushes up into you at the same time and you can’t help but moan dramatically into the kiss at how attuned you are to one another. Knowing just what the other needs. 

“When I first walked in and heard the song, I thought of our anniversary. I imagined it as a backtrack to our night if we were in a movie.” You heave when he pulls away again to trail kisses down your neck. 

He pulls back to look at you, his heavy breaths fanning across your face, making you brush your lips against his in an almost kiss. He lets out a pathetic whine, one that you mirror when the hand on your belly slides down to just barely push between your clenched thighs, resting that much closer to the throbbing of your core. 

“I hope we never fall out of this.” Harry breathes, placing a frenzied kiss to your lips. You sink into him, becoming pliable under his affections. 

The fluttering in your chest is unbearable for a moment with your lack of oxygen so you pull away to rest your forehead against his, “I don’t think we will.”

“Good,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose against yours before diving in for another desperate, frenetic, kiss. Every ounce of love he has for you is tangible within this kiss. The devotion he has for you is felt in every languid swipe of his tongue through your mouth and it brings tears to your eyes. 

“We should record the moans. We should do that. Do you want to help me get the moans?” Harry frantically asks, his hands shoving up under your shirt and grabbing at your bare sides. He sighs in relief when he gets his hands on your skin, his distraught movements settling at the feeling. 

Your body is set ablaze and your heart beat is pounding in your ears at the feeling of him just everywhere. Especially with that skin on skin contact that you’re quite literally always wanting. 

“Well,” you gasp when his fingertips dip into the waistband of your shorts at your back. Your hands are tangled into the hair at the back of his head and you pull his lips to yours again, kissing him passionately. “I don’t want you going somewhere else to get them.” 

You’re breathing so incredibly fast, your chest heaving heavily- rising and falling rapidly as you throw your head back enough to let Harry mouth at your neck and no doubt leave behind another mark he shouldn’t. But you’re just so far gone you don’t even care. 

“I could never go anywhere else. Not when i have everything I could ever want or need right here.” He says, sucking harshly at the hollow of your throat before he soothes it over with the tip of his tongue. You let out a dreamy sounding sigh. “You’re m’heart and soul and everythin’ in between.”

You nearly sob out at his words a new desperation, to have him close to you, mingling with your bloodstream. 

“Fuck, I love you,” you pull at his hair. 

Harry groans as he trails his kisses up the underside of your throat before landing at your lips once more. It’s a heady kiss, one that you never want to end and he happily presses into you as deep as he can. 

“Let’s record those moans now, yeah?” He murmurs, out of breath, placing a kiss just below your ear. 

“Now?”

“Yeah,” he kisses the spot once more, adding his teeth for a brief moment. “Wanna take you, right here, in this studio where I’ve thought about you all day. All frustrated around everyone while all I could think about was you and how you feel around me.” 

The breath in your body evaporates at his words and you tug on his hair when the hand between your thighs pushes in further, his fingers brushing over the clothed bundle of nerves that so desperately wants his attention. He lets out a throaty groan, right next to your ear and you genuinely feel like you could melt right here. Just turn into a giant puddle of mush right in his lap. 

“Are there cameras in here?”

“No,” Harry pulls back to make contact with you once again. His eyes glazed over. “Wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”

You nod. 

The energy between you crackles as you stare at one another while you catch your breaths. 

“I’ll lock the file and everything, you don’t need to worry about someone other than me hearing us.” He informs, already knowing where your thought process was about to go. 

Nodding, you push into his fingers, desperate for some sort of friction to alleviate the painful pressure resting between your legs. You’re so unbelievably hot and bothered for him and how well he knows you. 

“Regardless of if we do it now or not, it doesn’t matter. I won’t make it until we can get home to absolutely ruin you. If it’s not here it’ll be in the car. I can’t take it anymore, gotta get my hands on you, baby.”

His voice is strained as he speaks and your brain just completely shuts down. It's like television static in there and you can’t focus on anything but the way your husband's lips and hands are pressing into you. The best you can get yourself to do is to nod, your mind just absolutely overwhelmed to do much else. 

“Use your words, will you?”

Your mouth pops open on a gasp and you breathe out, “Yes, please. Now.”

Harry nods vigorously in agreement, swooping forward with another heavy kiss to your lips. He’s absolutely relentless in how he kisses you, exploring your mouth in ravenous strokes of his tongue that leave you just shattered, completely out of breath. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, you happily take him in, giving back just as much. A hand of his shoves up under your shirt, skin heating up even more when he gets between your shoulder blades to press you closer to him. He lets out a groan, into the very, very, sloppy kiss, at the fact you chose to forego a bra. 

“Why don’t you straddle my lap, hmm?” Harry hums when he pulls away, his lips continuously brushing over yours. You dart your tongue out to trail across his lower lip. He moans. 

When you slide off his lap to stand in front of him, his body follows after yours that invisible string pulling him with you- not being able to stay away too far. His hands are like magnets to your hips and he squeezes at the flesh there when you wobble where you stand. Once you’re steady, he slides his hands up over the curve of your waist before he settles them around your ribs, pushing his thumbs up under the swell of your breasts. 

With your heartbeat picking up, you feel your eyes get unbelievably heavy at the sight of him below you. Hair askew, lips swollen and shiny, eyes hooded; Harry looks so wrecked already that you feel tingly in places that crave his attention. A fire burns deep within you that you know will only be remedied with the touch of him. So, you pull the shirt off of your body in a flourish, yearning for his touch on your skin. 

He leans further away from you though once your upper half is exposed to his fierce gaze and you whine, high pitched and needy, from the back of your throat. But, he’s quick to tug at your arm, immediately groaning out, “Come back.”

Stepping in between his spread legs, his deft hands wrap around the backs of your thighs and he pulls at them- easing you up to settle in his lap with each knee of yours on either side of his hips. As soon as you’re situated, you waste absolutely no time to roll your hips into his, seeking out any sort of relief you can find. A moan flies out of both of you simultaneously at the friction you both desperately crave. His hands curve over the expanse of your ass where he grabs a hold and guides you over and over his groin. The kiss you share just intensifies everything you’re feeling and it’s burning through your veins. 

Your lungs are screaming at you, begging you for some kind of reprieve so you pull harshly on his hair; Harry groans as he detaches himself from your lips with a heaving breath. There’s absolutely no time for either of you to catch your breath though because he’s mouthing at your neck in seconds flat, no doubt leaving more marks behind. You don’t even care, you just tilt your head back and give him more room to suckle at your skin. His hands are still firmly gripping at you, distractedly pulling your lower half over his and it’s steadily pushing you towards an orgasm. 

On a particular heady pass over the hardness nestled against your clothed core, your arms fall away from your husband and clumsily clutch at the arms of the chair for some sort of leverage. A hand shoots up to the middle of your back to keep you steady as a moan rips through your chest at the pleasure coursing through your body. Harry let out a breathless laugh against the skin of your chest, causing goosebumps to flutter across the heated skin there. You can’t help the pitched sigh that filters out of you through your parted lips, you just feel like you’re on cloud nine. 

Your lips ache to feel something again, to feel your lover again, like thirty seconds apart is entirely too long. Panting, you reach up once again and run your fingers through the curly hair that’s just below your chin and pull on it. There’s a smacking sound, partnered with a whine from yourself, as Harry’s lips detach from the skin on the swell of your breast. He’s panting as well as you pull his head back, his eyes immediately connecting with yours and you nearly whine at the hunger settling behind his pupils. His tongue swipes out to graze his bottom lip and you trace the movement with your own heavy gaze before dropping down to hungrily bite at his lips. You drag out his bottom lips between your teeth and the groan he lets out goes straight to your core, making you desperately roll your hips over his again. 

You’re both a desperate, needy, mess at this point, like you didn’t indulge yourselves in one another just this morning before you parted ways. You just want to be able to feel each other as much as possible, get under each other’s skin at any chance. You wouldn’t change it for the world and you hope that attraction to one another never fades. 

Harry brings his hand up to cradle the side of your face when you try to dip further down to smatter kisses all across his neck. He smells so incredibly good right now that you just want to bite into his neck and suck at it, hard. But, before you get the chance, his thumb is pushing up the underside of your chin and angling your face so he can get his lips on you once again. He breathes into the kiss, seemingly melting into your body as he kisses you urgently, all wet and hard as he all but shoves his tongue down your throat. You both moan and your entirety relaxes into him as you become pliant from the ministrations of his tongue against yours. You feel him relax even further when your weight drops heavily onto him. 

“We gotta get these off,” Harry breaks away suddenly and it pulls you out of your pleasure filled haze to feel him clawing at the biker shorts you’re wearing. He’s trying to get his hand inside of them but with the way you’re pressed against him with your legs spread, there’s not enough room for his large hands. “Fuck,” he whines, “Why didn’t you take these off when you were standing?” He presses a messy kiss to the center of your chest before dropping his forehead down to the same spot. His frantic hands have settled with his fingers under the shorts waistband at each of your hips. “Know you’re wet for me, need to feel it.”

Your breath gets caught in your chest on its way out and the harsh pounding of your heart in your ears makes you dizzy but he’s so correct. He’s never been more correct. And you need him to feel it too. 

“You didn’t let me,” you breathe, answering his previous question. You nearly tumble to the ground in your haste to get off his lap, eager to give him anything he wants just so he can give you everything you want. His hands on your hips stabilize you enough to keep you from falling to a heap on the ground because of your unstable knees. 

“Careful,” he murmurs, his body leaning towards yours like that string is pulling him once again. Like you’re the only person in the world he’d follow after, even if your movements are less than graceful. 

His eyes are wide as he just stares at you for a moment in front of him. Your breathing is still erratic and he watches the rise and fall of your chest with greedy eyes. He continues to watch your body react to his touch, the way goosebumps rise as he trails his hands down your body, to the way your hands clumsily gasp at the soundboard to keep you upright when he grabs onto your ankle to pull your leg into his lap. Kissing at your knee and onto your inner thigh, he works at removing your shoe then your sock before easing your leg back down. He does the same to the next leg and the slow, sensual, kisses he places to your inner thigh while his skillful fingers remove your footwear makes your chest stutter over your breaths. 

He hasn’t broken eye contact once and you’re positive you’re only seconds away from spontaneous combustion. 

Seemingly done with his teasing, Harry doesn’t waste any more time to bring his hands up to your hips once more. Dipping his fingers into the waistband on your shorts, he pulls them down your legs and lets out a grunt when he notices you’re bare underneath the spandex material. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, glancing up at you through his lashes before bringing his attention back down to your wet core. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your lower stomach as he helps you step out of your shorts and your muscles contract tightly at the contact.

Your body is absolutely aching for him. 

“Why do you get to be fully clothed?” you complain, your chest heaving at the want coursing through your body at a very very high rate. You just want him to touch you, skin to skin, anywhere at this point. The coil in your lower belly is so taut and the pressure built up between your legs hurts and you just want your husband. Fully. 

“Because this is about you, baby.” He smirks, running his hands up your thighs and squeezing at them once he gets towards the apex of them. You let out a heavy breath. Whining at the feeling. Wanting his hands everywhere. 

“Then I want you naked, too,” you sigh and he kisses at a spot in the crease where your thigh meets your hip, so very close to where you need attention. He hums as he leaves a love bite there too, making you cry out at the sensation. “Please.”

Harry is standing up in the blink of an eye, crowding your space and shoving you up against the soundboard- the edge of it digging uncomfortably into your lower back. He presses in so close to you, his front lining up with yours so perfect like it always does. His hands grasp onto your cheeks with a delicacy that wildly contrasts the way his body is pressing into yours. Wrapping your fingers tightly in the front of his shirt, you yank him harshly to you, not wasting a second to press a searing kiss onto his lips. A loud groan escapes him when you pull on his bottom lip far enough that it snaps back into place when you let go. 

Your body is so hot. You’re so hot, there’s a sheen of sweat starting to form all over your skin. 

“Off,” you pant, frantically tugging at his shirt. “Off, off, please,” you plead, grabbing at his back, bunching his shirt in your fists. 

Your husband laughs at you, a huff of air fanning out over your chest where he backs away from you just enough to get his shirt off. Your hands follow every inch of skin that’s being exposed to you, much like a magnet, until his chest is bare. Harry’s eyes slip closed when your fingers trail over the expanse of his chest and down his stomach where you wrap your hands around his plushy hips and pull him back to you. You both let out high pitched sighs when your skin comes in contact with each other, finally feeling a peace wash over you at the feeling. 

“M’wife, you’re so beautiful.” Harry murmurs, a breath being punched out of you both when he grounds his hips into yours. Your body flushes even more. “The things you do to me.”

“H, please,” you sigh, not entirely sure what you’re asking for. 

He plunges forward to place a kiss on your lips so hard that your head falls back at the force of it and you gasp. With your mouth dropped open on the gasp, Harry shoves his tongue into your mouth and the feeling it gives you weakens your knees to the point where you have to throw your hands down to the ledge of the soundboard to keep you from collapsing. One of Harry’s hands wraps around the back of your neck so he can keep your mouth pressed to his, so he can continue to devour your mouth with his kiss- while the other drops down to the back of your thigh, where he pulls on it until your leg wraps around his hip. 

You take the new position in stride, rolling your hips up into his to get some sort of friction going. Your body is absolutely yearning for him. A moan breaks the kiss and you’re not even sure who it comes from, just know that it pulls Harry away and has him dropping his forehead down to yours with his chest heaving. His eyes are clenched shut and yours follow when he grinds into you again, the fabric of his pants brushing against your achy core.

Harry takes a minuscule step away from you, just enough to be able to trail his hand lazily up and over your thigh to the innermost part where he takes a moment to knead at the flesh there. The moan you let out at the tingles shooting up your spine is so pathetic but you don’t even care, it feels so good. Anything from him would feel amazing right now you just want everything. 

“Harry,” you whine, pushing into him as much as you can. 

Rubbing his nose gently against your own briefly, Harry drops down to kiss you once again. One that’s a vast change from the devouring one he’d just given you, this one slow and oh so passionate. One that builds the burn in your chest so agonizingly slow, one that your body completely melts into and you become pliant with it. It’s one that effectively distracts you from anything other than his mouth on yours so you definitely don’t feel when Harry’s hand slips down to your core until his finger is nudging it’s way inside of you. 

Your elbows buckle under your weight when the second finger pushes inside of you and immediately curls into that spot deep inside of you that makes you feel like you’re in the stars. The hand wrapped around the back of your neck falls to the middle of your back to keep you steady against his chest as he relentlessly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your head falls back on a gasp, the kiss breaking as the pleasure coursing through you relieves the fire burning in your lower abdomen even if that coil there is winding and winding. 

The sounds of his fingers moving within you and the noises that are tumbling from your parted lips are absolutely sinful. They make you feel like everything is rushing through you so incredibly fast, aroused beyond belief. High pitched moans are tumbling right out of you from him wiggling his fingers around your spongy walls- to low throaty groans when he curls them up to graze over that spot deep inside you. All the noises mixed together could give the best of porn stars a run for their money. Your vision is clouding and you’re so unbearably hot, sweat is trailing down your spine and over your chest. 

“Kiss me,” Harry groans, “Now.” 

And who are you to deny him? 

When you tilt your head forward you catch a glimpse of his, absolutely, wrecked expression just before your eyes slip closed and you kiss him with all that you can. It’s hard to do though, your jaw has gone completely slack and all you can truly do is breath heavily against his mouth. The onslaught of his fingers is making it so incredibly hard to breathe properly, your chest heaving with moans exuding from your parted lips. Harry happily swallows your moans though as he keeps his mouth greedily attached to yours. 

That is until he pushes his fingers in as deep as he can get them and holds them there to press his thumb down onto your clit. You nearly scream out at the contact, a gasp leaving you so forcefully that it feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. Your head drops down to Harry’s shoulder; your leg on the ground feeling like it’s going to collapse, the leg around Harry’s hip is slipping, and your knuckles are white where you’re gripping at the edge of the soundboard. Moans are being ripped from you with your labored breathing the more Harry rubs relentless circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers stay where they are but curl up to brush against that spot deep inside. Your vision goes a little spotty with the force of pure bliss rushing through your veins. 

You want to touch him so badly, to wrap your hands around him in some way to get him even closer to you- even though he’s already as close as he can be. But you’re positive that if you were to let go of this soundboard you would collapse to the ground. 

“I got you,” Harry murmurs, placing a kiss just below your ear. You whine at his words, his name falling from your lips in a continuous sigh. The way he knows you so well makes you clench desperately around his fingers. “I got you, m’love.”

You collapse forward and onto him, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other over his shoulders, shoving your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighs out your name when you pull him against you, your skin coming in full contact to mold you together. You roll your hips against his hand so you’re pushing into the thumb rubbing relentlessly at your clit but you also just really want to feel his fingers moving again. 

A strangled moan passes through your parted lips and the fire burning through you is about to make you melt. Harry murmurs something in your ear, you can feel the vibration of it, feel the air of it, but you can’t hear it- blood is rushing through your head so fast you can’t hear anything else. All you are aware of is that your body is tightening up and you’re holding onto your husband with all your might because you’re seconds away from everything just coming undone. 

“Baby, I-“ 

“I know,” Harry breathes, placing heavy kisses to the side of your neck. “Go ahead, baby, come for me. Get m’fingers all wet.”

You groan at his words, the sound of it deep from your throat and you push into his body as you feel everything in yours just let go. 

“Yeah, baby, feel so good ‘round me,” Harry groans, keeping at pushing his fingers inside of you even as you clench around them through your orgasm. “You’re so fucking hot.”

A giggle is punched out of you through a lengthy sigh and it turns into a moan as your orgasm continues to push through you. Your head falls back on your shoulders once again and Harry takes that opportunity to attach his mouth to the exposed skin of your collarbones. You moan desperately, clawing at his back and rolling your hips up into his hand until it all becomes too much and you have to push him away. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, your entirety relaxing and falling limp in your husband’s hold as your climax subsides a bit.

Harry trails kisses up your throat until he’s got his mouth on yours again in a frantic, deep, kiss that’s all tongue and very wet. You both moan into it, your teeth clanking into each other when you both try to deepen the kiss. It’s so messy and uncoordinated that if you didn’t know any better you’d assume it was your first kiss ever. But, you wouldn’t want it any other way. That desperation, that yearning, to be so connected to one another is what keeps you going. 

You cry out a little, the noise happily swallowed by Harry, as he pulls his fingers out of you as carefully as he can. He kisses you through your tiny, blissed out moans, and you feel his wet fingers trail down the leg you have wrapped around him until he gets a good grip on your knee. He’s careful to lower your leg and he makes sure you’re completely steady on your feet before he’s pulling away from you. His hands come up to cradle your face as your body sags against the soundboard now that he’s too far away, which really isn’t that far, to be of support. 

Your chest is still heaving and the way his blown out eyes stare you down, sends a whole new round of tingles through your body- right to the pit of your tummy. There’s a tinge of wonderment behind the lust set ablaze in his eyes and you can just feel the admiration he has for you in his gaze. It makes you flush, your still hot body, only heating up further at it. 

“You make the prettiest of sounds.” He compliments, running his thumbs over your heated cheeks. “The prettiest of melodies to exist.” A kiss to your nose. “Better than anything I could ever create.”

“Harry..” You sigh, your eyes slipping closed at his praise. Your heart stutters in your chest even with how fast it was already beating, your orgasm still trailing through your bloodstream. 

“Got the prettiest wife.”

You smile at him, reaching out to place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating wildly under your palm. You go to compliment him, let him know he’s the most handsome husband but he doesn’t give you the chance as he swoops down to shove his tongue into your mouth with a languorous kiss that pulls a moan right out of you. 

“Do you think you got what you needed for the song?” You break away from the kiss with a gasp to ask. Harry is unrelenting with his mouth though, continues on kissing down your jaw- riling you up all over again quickly. 

“No.”

You gasp when he sucks harshly on a spot you know he marked up earlier with how sensitive it is now. You’re quick to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him away from you. He moans, far more riled up than you and you know he’s getting desperate for a release as well. 

“What do you mean, no.”

“I already had my fingers in you when I realized I hadn’t pressed record on my laptop. I wasn’t going to stop.” He huffs, going back for your neck. You instinctually tilt your head to give him room. 

You round your hands on his hips, dipping them into the back of his pants and under his boxes where you grip at his ass to pull him flush up against you. His pretty pink lips part in a gasp as he pulls back to look at you. His eyes are set ablaze and he looks absolutely ravenous. You clench around nothing at the look. 

Pulling at the front of his pants, you look up at him through your lashes, “Good thing you have another way to get even better noises out of me.”

“Fuck,” Harry rasps, his knees buckling a little. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“You better press record this time,” you whisper as you lick a stripe up the side of his neck until you reach just below his ear, “baby.” And you palm at him over the front of his pants. 

A groan, from deep in his chest, filters out through Harry’s parted lips as he squeezes his eyes shut momentarily. 

He surges forward and places a hard kiss to your lips before pulling away just as quick. “Get your cute ass on that couch, I’ll make sure we get all the sounds, darling.”

With another kiss to your lips, he lets you go so you can get yourself to the couch while he gets his laptop set up correctly to be able to record what audio he needs to. He lets you part with a light smack to your ass and a giggle as he watches you feign hurt at the swat. A giddy feeling rushes through you both at the thought of becoming one entity again. 

As you settle on the couch, you try and get your heart to settle down enough to get your breathing at least a little under control, but the more you watch your beautiful husband fumble around with his recording equipment you know the attempt is futile. You love him so fucking much. You love everything about him. You love the anticipation you feel whenever you look at him and he looks back at you because you know he has just as much love for you as you do for him. You love that everything between the two of you is mutual. 

Just like now, the way he’s looking at you over his shoulder, you know he’s about to worship every inch of you and he knows that you’ll happily return that worship. The small smirk resting on his lips is enough to let you know he’s feeling every bit of rushing emotions that you’re feeling. 

You smile at one another and you know for certain that he’s always going to create something for you, about you, and with you. And you’ll be there to help. 

“Wait, you think my ass is cute?”

The tinkling laughs you both let out make it into the final version of the song, right at the end where it all perfectly fades out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my masterlist is in my bio

please feed my narcissism

reblogs and comments are always welcome

Always Accepting

prompts: Harry always wants to be the best role model for his children that he can so when Ezra shows interest in getting his nails painted - well that’s an easy one to work through. (based off of this anon)

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

Just like this one-shot, you can commission me for any writing - available through my kofi page!

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

–

Ezra was off, Harry could tell as he was quieter than usual as he played with his dolls in the playroom (his other siblings out with their mum and nana) but Ezra had to stay behind due to his yearly check up.

Harry pads into the room, basic yankees tee and nike athletic shorts, and plops cross-legged on the floor next this his son.

“Hi sweetheart,” Harry says softly, brushing his hair off his forehead, “You seem sad. Remember that Patricia told you that when you don’t feel good you need to tell mama or me?”

Ezra’s brows pinch, glancing up at his father before putting his head back down with a stubborn whine and shake of his head.

“Is it because you didn’t get to go with mama and your siblings?” He presses, unsure what else could be making him down.

“No daddy! No,” Ezra huffs out with frustration as he becomes a bit rougher with the babydoll in his hand.

“Okay, bub. I’ll give you some space but I expect you to come talk t’daddy when you are ready,” Harry encourages, chest hurting a bit for his son, “I’ll be in the den.”

-

Harry is comfortable, sunken into their massive comfy couch in the den with ESPN on, gets a bit of a cocky smile every time they mention him or a picture of him flits across the screen.

It couldn’t be more than twenty-five minutes before Ezra walks in slowly, hesitating by the door - Patricia had told them they need to give Ezra time to himself to develop emotional processing and self-soothing skills.

It wasn’t always easy but they’d seen such major improvements because of it.

“Daddy,” Ezra mumbles, eyes towards his bare feet and his arm on the doorframe - completely avoiding eye contact.

Harry turns off the television and sits up, “You ready to talk t’me? Tell me what’s going on?

“No,” His son responds with fat tears beginning to trail down his cheeks as he watches his feet away back and forth.

“Can you at least look at daddy?” Harry goads with a soft, careful voice to make sure his son knows he’s okay and safe.

When Ezra’s eyes met his fathers, his puffy lips turned down, he quietly says, “Why do only girls get to wear nail colors? S’not fair.”

Harry can’t lie, a bit startled because that is not where he thought this was going but takes a deep sigh of relief because he can deal with this.

“Who said boys can’t, bub? S’not just for girls. It’s for anyone,” Harry responds with a smile, “Is that why you’re sad? Do you want your nails painted?”

Ezra becomes defensive, eyes hardening, “No! That’s for girls, I’m not a girl!”

“Ezra Duke, I didn’t say you were. I’m trying to tell you that boys can wear nail polish too or makeup or whatever girls use,” He tells his son, doesn’t even realize that he’s frowning too.

“I don’t want that! Boys don’t do that,” Ezra sniffles in aggravation with his father - why didn’t his dad understand that stuff was for girls? That’s what all the boys at school told him.

“Darling, if you don’t want to either - that’s okay,” Harry puts his hands up in surrender but he knows his little Ez, knows that his eyes are telling him something different.

And Ezra looks a bit devastated because he does want his nails done but he needs more encouragement to admit it - after the bullies at school made fun of him for saying that he wants pink nails.

“But that reminds me, I think daddy’s going to make an appointment at the nail salon to get mine painted - maybe pink and yellow,” Harry keeps his tone conversational and oblivious as he pulls up options for spas on his phone.

Keep reading

Hi I was wondering if you could write something about the fan!reader having a small business and Harry randomly checks out the shop and he immediately thinks she's cute or something? If really appreciate it :)

yes!! i... don't really know how i ended up with this fic, and i'm not sure i like it, so lmk what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was there again.

You knew who he was, of course, how could you not? Harry Styles was the world’s biggest rockstar, known for his 70s-inspired sound, arms covered in tattoos, and elusive reputation. He was loved by millions, yet no one actually knew him, which you assumed was a part of his allure.

In short, Harry Styles wasn’t the kind of person you thought you would find at a Saturday farmer’s market, yet he was there. Every weekend. You weren’t one of his devoted followers, but as time went by and you saw more and more of him, you began to notice things about him. He dressed impeccably, but in a way that said he didn’t want to be noticed. His painted nails were always in various stages of chipped, get you started to believe he preferred it that way because you never saw him with a new manicure. And from what you could tell, he only ever spoke to the two or three friends he walked around with, so you tried not to respect his privacy and not notice him. That didn’t stop other people from coming up to him and asking for a picture, but you let him be.

But it was hard to do that when he kept coming to your stall every weekend and left empty-handed.

Harry Styles, you discovered, was not only the quiet and brooding type, but apparently, he was also the type of person to inspect every single thing in a store and then not buy anything. Not a single thing. Some days it felt like he inspected every petal and stem just to not buy a single flower, let alone a whole bouquet. And his brows were always furrowed, like the display wasn't up to his standards. You didn't know what kinds of flowers Harry Styles bought, but clearly yours weren't good enough for him.

A real head scratcher because he was at your stall every Saturday.

It made you question your stall sometimes—the way you arranged your flowers, the brown paper and ribbon and twine you wrapped them in; the bunches of lavender and rosemary, and bouquets of roses and daises and carnations and peonies, and all the other sweet-smelling flowers you grew at home and brought to the market every weekend. You couldn’t understand why your flowers weren’t good enough for him. Or why he kept coming back to your stall if they weren't.

Each time he stopped by your stall and didn’t buy anything, you got more and more annoyed, something that didn’t happen often. It got to the point that by the sixth time he walked up to inspect your flowers, you couldn’t sit by anymore. You were going to say something, you just had to work up the courage first.

You’d been on your phone typing up possible things to say to him, so you didn’t see Harry walk up to your stall, and when you looked up, you jumped. He was right in front of you.

“I, um, I wanted to ask for your opinion,” he said, his voice so quiet you had to lean in to hear him.

“My opinion?” you asked, looking at him skeptically.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I—I want to buy a bouquet of flowers, but I don’t know which ones to get. I'm meeting someone and am in a bit of a rush, so if you could just...”

He gestured like he wanted you to be quick in your assessment of your own flower arrangements.

You were curious as to why now, after weeks of him practically judging your stall, he wanted your advice, or to buy something. But when he said he was in a rush, you realized you were probably a last resort. Harry didn't want to buy from you, you were just a convenient option.

"Sure. Is there anything you're looking for in particular?"

"Flowers," he blurted, looking at you like he suddenly regretted coming to your stall at all. At that moment, you wondered where his normal group of friends was. Harry was rarely ever alone, and you would've loved a buffer between the two of you right about now.

Rolling your eyes, you said, "I meant, what's the occasion? Are you celebrating? Is it romantic? Are they for a family member?"

You hoped that your questions would clear things up, but he only looked at you with a deeper frown. "Does it matter? They're all flowers."

This was your moment. This was your opportunity to speak your mind and match his sour energy. But as you opened your mouth to tell him how you really felt about his judgy eyes and above-it-all demeanor, you chickened out.

"You're right. Here," you told him, pulling a random bouquet from your stall and handing it to Harry. It was a personal favorite of yours—lavender and daisies and baby's breath bundled together with twine—and a pretty neutral bouquet. Unless he was about to go to some sort of anniversary event with a significant other, in which something a little more grand would be more fitting. But he said it didn't matter, so you decided not to think into it too much.

"That'll be twelve dollars."

His brows raised in a way that made you dislike him even more, but he only pulled his wallet out and handed you a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change," he mumbled, then walked off the way he'd come.

"Ass," you muttered.

Checking your watch, you realized the market was going to be over soon. And since no one was even looking at your stall, you decided to pack up for the day. You began pulling bouquets from their displays, already coming up with ways to repurpose the ones that were showing signs of wilting. You often dried them and made little bookmarks, plates, ornaments, and other kinds of decorations, but that took time and planning.

"Did Harry Styles just buy flowers from here?"

You looked behind you to where a girl dressed in bell bottoms and a crop top was standing, glitter-covered eyes looking at you expectantly.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Can I buy the same bouquet as him? Does he shop here a lot?"

There was an opportunity here. To lie or to tell the truth. Since you were still a little miffed by the singer's behavior, you went with a little white lie. "He comes here every week."

It technically wasn't a lie. He did come every week, but the girl didn't have to know that today was the first time he'd ever purchased anything. You had a lot of flowers to sell, and Harry was going to help you, whether he was aware of it or not.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next Saturday came and Harry was back with what some might consider his “entourage.” If it was possible, he looked even moodier than he normally did, and he was headed straight towards you. You didn’t know what he wanted, nor did you care that people were gawking at him as he came into your stall. Thanks to him, business was better than ever, word having spread that the Harry Styles frequented your flower stand. You were in the middle of helping a bride with ideas for arrangements for her wedding, and you weren’t going to stop for Harry. He could wait.

“I need to speak to you.”

His voice made it seem like there wasn’t room for debate, but you didn’t see it that way.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute. Feel free to look around,” you told him, quickly going back to the bride to be.

You could practically feel him standing behind you, but you took your time helping the potential client. In reality, it was maybe two or three minutes, but when you turned around, Harry’s arms were crossed like you’d made him wait an hour.

Smiling, you asked, “How can I help you?”

“She didn’t like them.”

You knew what he was talking about, but an evil part of you kind of liked pissing the rockstar off. “Like what?”

Harry just continued to stare intensely. “The flowers. The ones I bought from you.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” you said, and you meant it too. You took pride in arranging your bouquets. “Did you want to buy more or did you just want to tell me that?”

“Well, I—” He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I mean not really, but she said I had to.”

Your brows raised, both thoroughly confused and amused at the same time. “Okay. Well, have a look around, and let me know if—”

“There’s nothing here,” he interrupted. “She’s very picky. Likes to have stuff that other people don’t.”

Who was he dating? The queen? you thought. You understood getting the right bouquet and having a favorite flower, but you couldn’t just pull the ones you had apart and make Harry a new one. You grouped those flowers together for a reason.

“I mean if you think they’re unsatisfactory, then you could always just go somewhere else,” you said.

“It’s not me, it’s her,” Harry said. “I couldn’t care less, but she’s insisting, and I’m already here, so.”

He didn’t even realize that he just insulted you. And not only that, but he still expected your help.

Channeling all of your most calming thoughts, you took a deep breath and smiled. “Well, let me check the back for something more unique. Oh wait, there is no back,” you said with a shrug. If he didn’t care, then you didn’t either.

“Why are you being rude? I’m asking you for help,” he asked, seeming utterly confused.

It occurred to you then that the man in front of you might just be the brutally honest type, that he didn’t think he was being mean, just honest. He was, but you weren’t going to have it out with him about his behavior. If no one hadn’t called him out on it, you weren’t going to be the one to change his mind.

“I...guess you can come back to my garden and pick out a bouquet there, but it’ll cost you ex—”

“Done. When can we leave?”

“Market closes in an hour,” you said, eager to be rid of him for the time being.

“I’ll come back then.”

“Can’t wait,” you muttered. It was sarcastic, of course, but you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was back in exactly an hour, his friends nowhere to be seen. He watched passively as you loaded wooden crates of flowers into your truck, and when you finally closed up the bed, you walked back over to him.

“You can just follow me in your car, I guess. I live about ten minutes from here.”

You weren’t surprised when all he did was nod. He followed you to the market’s parking lot, your eyes widening when he slid behind a sleek black car with tinted windows.

The entire drive, your mind was occupied. You wondered how the hell you ended up in this situation and pondered ways it could’ve gone differently. Perhaps you should’ve just told Harry to find another florist, or just let him pick apart your bouquets. But you were here, driving in your beat up, barely working, pick-up truck with one of the biggest celebrities of today trailing behind you in a car that costed more than you made in a year.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Take a look around and let me know if you see anything you like.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t want to leave him alone among the rows of flowers, but you also didn’t want to awkwardly trail behind him. So you settled for venturing to the next row over pretending to gather flowers while keeping an eye on him.

Harry barely said a word as he walked up and down your garden, his face as void of emotion as always. You wondered if he ever smiled, or what his laugh sounded like, but you quickly shook those thoughts away.

“I can’t find anything.”

Having gotten lost in picking out marigolds that looked ready to be picked, you startled at Harry’s sudden closeness. It appeared he was very sneaky.

“I’m sorry about that,” you said, though you kind of expected that from him. “I don’t have anything else to show you.”

“I just don’t know what to get for her, and she’ll have my head if I don’t get it right,” he said, and for a moment it sounded like he was genuinely worried about the possibility of his head being removed from his neck.

Harry claimed he couldn’t find anything, but it looked to you like he wasn’t going to leave here empty handed.

“Um...” You quickly scanned the row you were in. Sporting a bunch of sweet peas, you snipped their stems, pulled a piece of twine from your pocket, and tied them together. “Here. Sweet peas are unique and symbolize kindheartedness.”

Harry took the flowers from your hands and inspected them like he was about to give you feedback on your choice. Why he would do that, you weren’t sure. You didn’t go to his home and criticize his music.

But all he said was, “Flowers have meaning?”

You breathed heavily through your nose. “Yes, they do. Now, if you’d like, I can wrap these up for you. Put a bow on them maybe?”

Harry looked like he wanted to ask more about flowers and their meanings, but he just nodded.

You led him away from your garden and into your garage, which you’d converted into a workspace years ago. It was covered in unfinished projects and snipped stems and stray petals, but honestly it always looked like that.

“Um, there are small animals following you.”

“Oh!”

Turning around, you saw that Harry was right. There was a line of ducklings following you towards the house. Bending down, you cupped your hands and let a couple hop in.

“This is Melon, Sandy, and Hank. They hatched recently, and now they follow me everywhere.”

Harry peered down at the ducklings curiosity wrinkling his brow. “They...follow...you?”

“Yep. Do you want to hold one? Actually, why don’t you just take these while I go wrap up your flowers.”

You handed the ducklings off to Harry while you darted into your workspace, making quick work of cutting ribbon and tying a knot around the sweet peas’s stems. When you returned, Harry was holding two ducks while one somehow made it onto his shoulder and was burying itself in his hair.

“Sorry, I should’ve mentioned that Melon does that,” you said.

It was a risk to step into Harry’s personal bubble, you didn’t think he would be the type to appreciate that, but he also looked slightly freaked out that a duckling named Melon was trying to make a home out of his hair. Carefully, you removed Melon from strands of hair until he was safely back in your hands.

Harry quietly took the packaged flowers from you and handed the other ducklings back. Figuring he was in some kind of shock from holding the three ducks, you left him to his silence and showed him out.

“Do you own a lot of animals?”

The question surprised you, but only because you assumed Harry would want to leave as quickly as possible. “I don’t really see myself as an ‘owner,’ but I technically have a cow. And Cheese. And deer show up every now and again.

“Cheese?”

“A tree frog,” you clarified. “I was high when I named him.

That time you were sure the corner of his mouth flickered. “That’s...unusual.”

“What? Getting high?”

“No, the cow and—”

“That was a joke,” you said, stopping him even though his flustered state satisfied you to no end.

“Oh. Well here,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and pulling out a bunch of bills.

You started at them in shock. There was easily a hundred dollars in your hands. “I don’t need that mu—”

“Just take it. Please,” he insisted.

For a brief moment there, Harry seemed... different. You couldn’t really pass judgement because you didn’t know him, but the last couple minutes, he wasn’t so tense and wasn’t frowning so much. More awkward than broody. But he seemed closed off again,so you just took the money like he told you to.

Harry quickly sped off after that, and you were left alone in the dust, literally, trying to comprehend the day you just had.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Wiggles says you own a cow.”

Your first instinct was to look up, not down, so you didn’t see her at first. When you realized it wasn’t an adult that was speaking to you, your eyes shifted downward.

The first thing you saw was blond hair slicked back into a ponytail, the next thing was the coffee cup. She looked like she was nine going on twenty-nine with a plaid skirt and sweater vest. Who was this girl and where did she come from?

“You realize coffee stunts your growth, don’t you?” you asked, though a smile played at your lips.

She looked down at you the best she could at her height. A very commendable effort, you decided. “It’s decaf.”

“Fair enough. Who told you about my cow?”

“H—”

“Lucy, there you are!”

With wide eyes, you watched as Harry jogged over to you and the young girl. Lucy.

It seemed Harry switched out his usual group of friends for this young girl. You knew you probably shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help but ask, “Wiggles?”

At that, Harry glared down at Lucy. “We talked about that.”

Lucy shrugged. “You talked. I listened, and then I silently disagreed.”

You immediately liked this girl.

Turning away from Lucy, Harry looked at you with pink cheeks. “Sorry about her. We were just leaving, actually.”

“Oh. No worries, she just—”

“You came all this way and you’re not gonna give it to her?” Lucy asked.

It seemed as if this girl was Harry’s kryptonite, as he began to blush even harder. Sighing, Harry set the drink in his hand down on the table you were sitting behind. The drink you always ordered.

You looked at the drink, astonished. “How did you—”

“I just noticed the label, and I knew that that coffee shop is close by, and I mean the drink is green so all I had to ask for was the green one. It’s not like it was hard or anything.”

It sounded like Harry was trying to convince himself of that fact and not you, but the fact that his moody, broody exterior wasn’t as thick as you initially assumed put a smile on your face.

“Thank you. I don’t know why you got it for me, but thank you.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Harry said, “Well, I told Lucy about the florist who owned ducklings and a cow, and she insisted that I take her, and when I tried to explain that your house wasn’t a petting zoo, she said—”

“That everyone has a price, and Wiggles has a very big wallet,” Lucy supplied helpfully.

Lots of things shocked you at the moment, it was hard to pinpoint which one had your mouth slightly ajar.

Harry had...a child? They didn't look anything alike, but that didn't say much. But not only did he have a child, who was just as blunt as Harry was, he talked about you to her. You were curious to know in how much detail, but you didn't dare ask. It was clear Harry—Wiggles—had his hands full.

"I was just bringing this as a thank you for your help last week. That's all," Harry said, looking you dead in the eye. It was like he needed you to know he had absolutely no ulterior motives with the coffee. Not that you expected him to. As far as you knew, Harry had never been photographed with anyone romantically, but you had a feeling a florist and cow owner wasn't his type.

"Thanks," you said, picking up the drink and taking a sip from the straw.

It was awkwardly silent after that. You didn't really know what to say, and from the looks of it, Harry didn't want to say anything. His mask of indifference was back, but he made no move to take himself and Lucy away.

"So is it like one of those black and white cows you see on milk cartons, or is it—"

"Lucy," Harry hissed.

"What?"

The pair had a very interesting dynamic. The way they interacted felt more sibling-esque than father-daughter, and now you really wanted to know what exactly they meant to each other.

"She's a miniature cow with brown hair," you said to Lucy, not minding her curiosity one bit.

"Miniature?"

You nodded. "She won't grow to be very big. Wanna see?"

Harry stood with his arms crossed while you and Lucy looked at pictures of your pet on your phone. As you scrolled, the young girl peppered you with questions, and while you were more than happy to answer all of them, you could tell that Harry was even more ready to leave.

"You really live there? It looks like a fairy's home," she said, admiring the picture of Petal the miniature cow dozing in the garden.

"I do."

Lucy turned to Harry, and while his arms were still crossed and his face was still pretty stoic, something in his eyes softened when he looked at her. "We have to have our next tea party there."

"You can't just use someone's home for your tea parties, Lucy," Harry said, sounding like he'd had similar conversations before.

"Well obviously Y/n would be invited too," Lucy said with a roll of her eyes.

Sighing, he told her, "You can't invite yourself over to someone's house, Lu—"

"It's fine," you said, even if Harry was technically right. "Lucy, why don't you go pick out a bouquet of flowers. Free of charge."

Lucy's eyes lit up, and she scampered off to inspect each one, much like Harry often did when he stopped by.

Now that you and Harry were relatively alone, you were able to digest some of the information you'd learned in the last few minutes, the first being that Harry Styles, the Harry Styles that toured the world as a rock star and sang about sex and hallucinogenics, went to tea parties with a girl who couldn't be older than ten years old and called him Wiggles. Who knew that was what he was hiding under that broody facade?

"I'm sorry about her, she has no sense of personal boundaries," he finally said, breaking you away from your thoughts.

"Like I said, it's fine. She just made my day."

That made Harry smile just enough for a dimple to indent one of his cheeks. It made you wonder what his actual smile looked like. Attractive like him, you assumed, though you doubted you would ever see it.

"Thanks. And don't worry about the whole tea party and coming over thing, she'll forget about it by tomorrow."

Harry was saying one thing, but it didn't sound like he was all that convinced, and after witnessing Lucy's fascination and persistence yourself, you knew that she would probably nag Harry about it for days, maybe even weeks, to come.

"I...wouldn't mind if she came to visit Petal, but I will require one thing."

Harry looked skeptical but also relieved that he wasn't going to have to repeatedly tell Lucy no. "Deal. What is it?"

"I need to know how Harry Styles got the nickname 'Wiggles.'"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Suddenly knowing things about a celebrity was weird.

To you, Harry had just been some guy that was popular on the radio and really had a problem with your flower arrangements, and now he and his...well, you didn't know who Lucy was to him, but they were coming over to your house so that she could meet your pet cow.

Life was utterly bizarre (cow pun intended).

You didn't really know what to expect from Harry. He was quiet and standoffish and had this uncanny ability to make you question every little thing you did. You were used to seeing him from a distance, watching him as he silently judged your bouquets of flowers, and now you were spending an extended period of time with him. You weren't sure why you cared, but you did.

So you put a little effort into what you were wearing for your guests, but not to the point of looking like you were trying too hard. A bandana over your hair, a pair of jeans that didn't have grass stains on them, and a green turtleneck sweater that made your eyes pop.

Lucy and Harry were right on time, something you were expecting from them. This whole arrangement was strange, but seeing Lucy's eyes widen as she took in your garden in person made it all worth it.

Harry was pretty much silent as you showed Lucy all the different types of flowers and how to properly pick them. He trailed behind the two of you like some kind of bodyguard, boots kicking up dirt and crunching gravel as he walked.

"Is he always like that?" you couldn't help but ask Lucy. You wondered if it was just you who had that affect on him, or if that was just his natural disposition.

"Mm, kinda. He's just shy. Doesn't know how to talk to girls."

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but that was not how you assumed Harry Styles would be. You weren't a huge fan of his by any means, but you didn't live under a rock, either. Girls practically threw themselves at him, you guessed he had no issue flirting with girls.

Not that that's what you thought Harry wanted from you. His feelings towards you were pretty clear, you thought.

"I can hear you, you know," Harry called from a few feet behind you and Lucy. She giggled, like that was exactly her plan, but you just blushed. He didn't need to know you were asking about him.

"And here's Petal. She mostly just sleeps and eats all day," you said a while later. Lucy had insisted you showed her everything, and after an hour, you finally made it to where Petal was napping in the afternoon sun.

"She's so cute! Isn't she cute, Wig—I mean Harry?"

You stood back after telling Lucy where the best places to pet Petal were so she wouldn't get spooked, more than happy to just watch like Harry was.

You tried not to, but you couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. Your eyes caught on the sharp angle of his jaw the curl of his lashes and the point of his nose. And when you settled on his hair, you couldn't help but smile.

"You—You have something in your hair," you said, and before you could think, you were reaching up to pluck the dandelion tuft from one of his curls. The image of Harry's hair dotted with flowers made you smile even wider.

When you pulled back and saw his wide eyes, though, you immediately took a step back. "Sorry, I should've asked before invading your space like that."

Harry cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "It's fine."

Not that you really expected to, but you couldn't read Harry for the life of you. There were moments where you thought he was just awkward like Lucy said, and then there were those where he just seemed inexplicably cold. Maybe it's just me, you thought, and you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed by that.

When you turned back towards Lucy to ask if she wanted to go find your ducklings, you missed the way rested his face in his hands.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You weren't sure how it happened, but Harry and Lucy were suddenly a part of your life.

Well, that wasn't totally true. Lucy kept inviting herself over, and you learned very quickly that Harry had a hard time telling her no. Not that you minded. Lucy was sweet, and it was nice having people around.

Harry remained as cold as ever. Over the last few weeks, you knew almost everything about Lucy. As she helped you pick flower crowns, she told you how she preferred her coffee, while you showed her how to make flower crowns and preserve dried flowers, she revealed that Harry was her godfather who helped take care of her, and she told you about her classmate that sang a little too loudly during music class. And while you brewed tea for her tea party, she broke down her meal schedule, from breakfast croissant all the way down to her bedtime glass of steamed milk (non-dairy, of course).

And yet, in all that time, Harry remained a mystery. Unless Lucy included him in a story, you knew as much about him as you did when he was merely someone who came by your stall at the farmer's market.

It didn't bother you, but you were curious as to why stayed so far away whenever you and Lucy hung out.

"Are you free on Saturday night, Y/n?"

You looked up from where you'd been braiding little flowers into Lucy's hair. "I don't think so. Why? Are you asking to come over?"

"No, I have plans, but you should definitely go out."

She did that a lot, you learned. She liked to tell you what to do with your life and give you advice on how to spend it. Most of it you ignored, seeing as she was nine—though you did take her up on a coffee recommendation she gave you a week ago—but for the most part, you humored her.

"And where should I go?" you asked.

"Wiggles is playing at the Troubadour. You should go see him perform."

Looking over to where Harry sat on a patio chair, you assumed he would be on his phone or staring off into the distance, but his eyes were already on you and Lucy, watching the conversation play out.

"Um..." You weren't really sure how to answer with Harry staring you down like that. Did he want you to say no? Yes? You couldn't tell. "It's kind of last minute, don't you think? I think it might be sold out by now."

"He could work something out. Couldn't you, Harry? Don't you want Y/n to see you perform?"

You didn't know him, but one thing you could assume about Harry Styles was that he didn't like being put on the spot. Looking at you, he said, "If you want to come, I could figure something out."

Lucy jumped up and clapped. "See? Perfect! Now your night won't be boring and Wiggles will be so excited you're coming."

He certainly didn't look very excited. His face morphed into a grimace, though you tried not to be too offended by that.

When it was time for Lucy and Harry to leave, you pulled Harry aside once Lucy was buckled up in the car.

"I won't come if you don't want me to."

Harry shook his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders as he moved. "No, you should. The Troubadour is a cool venue."

"Uh...Okay. Sure. I guess it wouldn't hurt to have plans on Saturday night."

Giving you a curt nod, he said. "Great. I'll text you the details on Friday."

"Cool, I'll see you—then," you said, but he'd already spun around to get in the car.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"The Troubadour is a cool venue?" Lucy mocked with a giggle.

Harry rested his head on the steering wheel and blew out a heavy sigh. "Shut up, Lucy."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You were overdressed.

Or perhaps not appropriately dressed was a better way to put it. You weren't the type to wear a lot of black, but maybe you should've gone out and bought something more suited for a rock concert at the Troubadour. You were in a pair of denim overalls with a floral blouse underneath, a small bouquet of flowers in your hands to give to Harry after his performance.

Everyone at Harry's show was intense, and you were suddenly very glad that you were watching from the second floor. There was a lot of pushing and shoving right in front of the stage, people reaching out in the hopes that Harry would touch their hand.

And Harry. Well, at least now you knew why everyone loved him. Everything about him was hot as he sang onstage. He played guitar, his chest was on display with the button-down that was barely buttoned, and eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, making his green eyes pop. A few times, he looked up to where you were, and you blushed every time. You thought he was cute, like most of the population, but to you that was just a fact. Now, though, butterflies stirred in your stomach.

Maybe it was that Harry seemed to come alive onstage, or that you were finally seeing a side of him other than the quiet, indifferent person you'd become acquainted with through Lucy. Whatever the case, you enjoyed seeing Harry like this, less stoic and more energetic.

When the show was over, you waited and debated. You'd brought flowers for Harry, but his text didn't say anything about the two of you meeting afterward. In truth, your connection was mostly through Lucy, and without her here, there was no reason for you to see each other.

Harry "Wiggles" Styles: You can come backstage if you'd like.

That was certainly unexpected. You made your way to what you assumed backstage, smiling at people as you passed. Some smiled back, and some glared at you when they realized where you were headed.

There was a security guard in front of the green room, but he must have been expecting you because he stepped aside before you could say anything.

"Oh! Sorry! I'll wait outside!"

Apparently, the security guard wasn't aware that Harry was changing out of his stage clothes. He'd been slipping his patterned button-down off his shoulders. You were quick to turn around, but not before catching a glimpse of broad shoulders and an entire chest covered in tattoos. Your heart had just stopped racing after his final performance, but now it was fluttering all over again.

"It's fine, Y/n. You can turn around."

Slowly, you turned on your heel. Harry was already in a t-shirt, a faded Ramones shirt with a stretched collar that revealed tattoos inching up his neck.

"These are—These are for you."

"Thanks."

You awkwardly handed over the flowers for him to take, Harry's fingers brushing yours when he eventually did. You weren't sure why you were so nervous all of a sudden. You'd seen Harry numerous times, so you didn't know why this felt so different.

"I really enjoyed your show tonight. I can see why so many people like you. And the, um, the part where you drank water and then spit it out was cool too. I think the girl next to me almost fainted."

Your nerves were palpable, so you weren't surprised when a smile itched at the corner of Harry's mouth. "I'm glad you had a good time."

Neither of you knew what to say now. Both of you stood in the middle of the green room, Harry holding the bouquet of flowers between ringed-adorned fingers and you wishing you hadn't given them away just yet so your hands had something to fiddle with.

"Well, thanks again for this. I had a lot of fun. Though maybe I should thank Lucy. She kind of forced your hand."

Harry was still staring at you with an unreadable expression. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

"I'm—I'm glad you came tonight," he said.

Your brows raised in surprise. "Really? I kind of thought you hated me."

Why did you have to go and say that, idiot? you thought. Now things were even more awkward than they were before.

Harry frowned, looking genuinely hurt by what you said. "I don't hate you. You think I hate you?"

"Well, no, I mean kinda? I guess I just took you not talking to me as disliking me, and before I even met Lucy you would always look at my stall with this hard expression on your face, and then you would never buy anything. Which is fine except you kept coming back so, I don't know, it just felt like my work wasn't good enough for you and you're always glaring and it—it's just this feeling I have."

You took a deep exhaled, having said all of that in one breath. You didn't come to Harry's show tonight with plans to say all that, but now that you did, you felt a bit better. Though now you worried you may have hurt Harry's feelings.

"I—I was just trying to come up with something," he said.

"Come up with something?"

"To say. To you. I don't know anything about flowers, and you make me nervous, and the fact that I couldn't just make myself go up and talk to you frustrated me to no end. I just didn't want to look like an idiot in front of you."

"Oh."

You had no idea how to respond. All this time, you thought Harry didn't like you, only to find out that he was...nervous to talk to you? You remembered Lucy saying that Harry was shy, but you didn't think it went that deep. Apparently, it did.

"So you...like...me then?" you asked. It sounded to you like Harry had a crush, but you weren't going to make any more assumptions.

"Yeah, I—I've been working up the courage to ask you out for weeks, but Lucy beat me to it. Nosy little menace."

You couldn't help but smile at the mention of Lucy. She really was the cause of all this. "Her heart was in the right place?"

Harry nodded, but he wouldn't meet your eyes. "I understand if—if don't want to. Go out with me that is," he said, pink tinging his cheeks. "Now that I know you thought I hated you and everything. But I don't. You should know that, at the very least."

He looked so defeated with his hair hanging in his face the way it was. All of this was coming as a surprise to you, and as such rendered you speechless. But the longer you went without saying anything, the more Harry seemed to deflate.

"You, uh, you haven't actually asked me yet," you found yourself saying.

You thought Harry was a mystery, and in some respects, he was. He'd been a little rude to you the first few times you spoke to him, but everyone had their off days, and he hadn't been like that since he and Lucy started regularly coming to your house.

And without actually speaking to him much, you knew quite a bit about him. You knew he had a goddaughter, whom he loved very much and let call him Wiggles. You knew that he seemed to have a hard time expressing his feelings unless he was onstage. You knew he had a close group of friends that he hung out with regularly. And you knew he let Lucy put flowers in his hair (but you only knew that because she told you).

It was a short list, but you found yourself wanting to add to it.

Harry looked at you, hope etching his features. "Right, um. Would you like to...to go out sometime?"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

As your truck pulled into the driveway, you sighed.

You felt like Cinderella after the clock struck twelve. You checked in on all your animals, making sure they were all accounted for. As you finally made it to your bedroom, you replayed the night's events over and over.

You didn't think that was where the night was headed, you almost couldn't believe it. The last few hours felt like a dream, one that you would wake up from any minute now.

But then your phone chimed, and your heart did that weird fluttery thing when you saw who the message was from.

Harry "Wiggles" Styles: I had a really good time tonight.

Harry "Wiggles" Styles: Is it too soon to ask for a second date?

Jack Shit

Summary: In which Jack Chambers is not a selfish, egotistical man-child with raging control issues that apparently wants to climb into Alice's womb like she's his mommy, but instead just a regular guy with a different set of control issues.

There is absolutely nothing better than the taste of him.

You’ve never felt so depraved. So irrevocably addicted to someone. Every fucking inch of the glorious man sitting just across from you.

His smile. His hair. His fucking arms, and hands, and fingers.

His fucking thighs.

You could just drool. You’ve never felt so pathetically needy in your life. He’s laughing at a joke one of his friends made, running his palm down his chin and your eyes fall to the facial hair that you absolutely adore.

Your thoughts are sinful. Looking at him like he’s sex on a stick. Truthfully, you’re almost embarrassed to be remembering him in such a way, and maybe chemically something is off in your body, but you don’t even care.

Because look at him.

You imagine everyone in the room can feel the tension. The way you’re attempting not to squirm in your seat as you look on. As you watch him settle into his chair as his legs spread comfortably.

Fuck, you could just moan. You have to pull your lip between your teeth and turn your head just to find a moment of reprieve.

And after what feels like hours of pure, unadulterated torture, he seems to notice, head cocking to the side before he nods his chin at you wordlessly. 

You say nothing. Shake your head. Chew on the inside of your cheek.

His eyes narrow thoughtfully before his long finger lifts into the air and beckons you forward. 

You feel your stomach drop, so cock-whipped by this man that you’re standing to your feet before you can think better of it.

The rest of the group continues their chatter as you make your way toward where he resides. And before you have a chance to sit beside him, he’s sneaking an arm around your hip to tug you onto his lap.

Shit.

Both a blessing and a curse and your legs pull shut within an instant as his head dips to find your ear.

“What’s going on with you, hm?” he murmurs, soft and silky, which certainly doesn’t help. “What’s the matter?”

His hand finds your leg. Innocent enough, mostly in an attempt to grab your attention.

But you’re too far gone, breath hitching at the feel of his skin against yours and he takes note of this immediately.

“What?” he repeats, a tremor of concern in his voice as he glances over the flutter of your lashes. “What’s the matter, angel?”

You could kill him, you really could. Your throat clears gently as you shake your head, now slightly mortified by the thoughts running wild inside your head. 

“Nothing. M’fine.” You won’t meet his eye. Can’t. If you do, you’re done for.

“Liar.” His tone is playful, yet the way he hisses the simple word sends chills right down to your cunt. “I know you better than you think I do. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you repeat, hoping to sound at least a little convincing. “I just…I’m ready to go home.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks upward. “Why, you all right?”

The gentle lilt of trepidation has you reeling, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight the urge to just climb on top of him.

Your knee begins to bounce, lip back between your teeth as you tug. Commanding yourself to remain indifferent. Relaxed. “Yeah, I just…I’m just—”

Suddenly, a look of realization passes over his face. And pure, unadulterated glee. He leans closer, nose brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Angel, are you dripping?”

You feel your head spin, your skin growing hot and your tongue going numb.

You don’t have to answer for him to know it’s true.

His fingers rub delicate circles into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, subtle enough to slip beneath the observation of everyone else in the room but determined enough that you can’t focus on anything else.

You exhale a deep breath, hand landing over his as you squeeze his knuckles. “Shit, don’t…don’t—”

“Don’t what, hm?” He brings his hand higher and you still at the sensation. “Think it’d be really unfair of me to leave you like this, don’t you?”

You imagine it would be unfair, but you’re so deep in your lust for this man, you don’t imagine you’ll survive if he attempts to do something about it.

When you meet his question with silence, his grip becomes tighter. Unrelenting. “Angel,” he warns, subtly yet forcefully tugging you further along his thigh. “Don’t test my patience.”

And you aren’t trying to test him. God, you can’t even fathom the thought, and yet your own body betrays you as your voice disappears into thin air the moment he asks a question.

And because Jack Chambers is an evil, sadistic, and relentless man…he answers the question for you.

Despite the room full of people, he slips his hand up your leg until it disappears beneath the soft hem of your dress.

Nobody notices. Maybe you want them to, maybe you don’t. But you notice. Feel the way those long fingers graze your inner thigh as they travel up. Up and up and up until they find the silk of your underwear. 

You also notice his breath hitch. Rather pleased at his obvious enjoyment of what he’s finding. The way, despite his power, he’s still overcome at the thought of you.

You watch his lips mumble something. You don’t catch what, exactly, but that hardly matters because he’s finally touching you. Thumb down the front of the fabric as he applies the subtlest amount of pressure. Just enough to make you squirm. Enough to have you sucking in a sharp gasp as you turn to hide your face in his neck.

“Shh,” he warns, cadence soothing and gentle. Soft and reassuring. It’s odd, the way he can seem both animalistic and tender all at once. You imagine that’s what you adore most about him. How he makes you feel both safe and terrified. “I’ve got you, yeah?”

He does, he’s got you, and you nod. You’ve never needed him to get you so badly.

A bit more pressure this time around. Up and down. Pressing. Circling. Kneading. Until you physically feel a blood vessel about to pop from how hard you’re trying not to whine. Until your stomach is cramping from the pain of holding the pleasure at bay. The way your thighs burn from attempting to squeeze them shut around his hand.

And the voices around you. Everyone laughing and talking and drinking and singing along to the music. Nobody pays you two any mind. If someone were to look over, they’d simply think you were whispering a secret in his ear. 

And you are. Repeatedly. “Please, please, please.” Desperate and fraught. Needing him to take you home, or to the car, or even to the fucking hallway if that means he’ll give you what you want.

He’s so close to going a bit further. You wish he would. Need him to. Need him to actually touch you. Skin on skin. No more of this over-the-panties bullshit. 

And he knows it. Knows what you need and is refusing to give it to you and you’re not sure why but you could kill him, you really could.

But that might have to wait until tomorrow because right now, with the thought of getting caught so close, and his hand much closer…you realize, you’re done for. Because skin on skin or not, you’re about to tip over the edge. His practiced and determined touch bringing you right to the cliff as he holds you there. Dangles you by one fucking finger.

And you can feel it. Bubbling. Ready to tip over at a moment's notice and it’s almost there, just a couple more seconds, and you’ll have to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming, and it’s so good and so close, and just one more second—

He stops.

Pulls his hand back.

Leaves you there. On the cliff. Dangling. Falling. Disappearing into the black abyss.

“Ja…Jack,” you just barely manage to whisper as he smooths the hem of your dress along your thighs, as if putting you back together. “What…what—”

“You never answered my question,” he tells you calmly, green eyes finally looking up to meet yours. “My angel knows better than that.”

You exhale a tense sigh. “Jack—”

“Off,” he demands, patting your hip to signal he wants you to stand to your feet.

But you hardly can, legs wobbly and chest caving in on itself. “Jack, I—”

“Off,” he repeats, a bit sterner, and immediately, you’re up. “Good. Go sit down and wait for me to take you home.”

“Jack—”

“Don’t push it, darling.” His tone hardens, lids narrowing as you feel the urge to cry bubbling its way up your throat. “Next time, you’ll tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll be good to you.”

“No, Jack, I promise…I was listening, I just—”

“S’too late now, Angel,” he hums, that familiar smirk attempting to sneak its way into his expression as he pulls his brows together and throws his arm over the back of his seat. His chin nods toward you as you settle on the couch. “Good girl. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

You suck in a deep breath. Hold it. Nails digging into your thighs. “Jack…please—”

“Uh uh,” he warns, head shaking once. “You can wait.”

“Jack—”

“You can wait.” He regards you carefully, and you can see the sadistic pleasure settle behind his eyes. “That’s it. Just like that. Sit there and behave for me.”

And you do. For the rest of the long, tumultuous evening. You sit there. You wait. You don’t make a sound.

But you do plan your revenge.

And as you watch him laugh with his friends and throw you a knowing wink, you smile through gritted teeth.

He’s so fucking in for it now.

And you’re gonna make it hurt.

Full Masterlist

i need ppl to see the bigger picture about why it’s upsetting that kiki layne was cut out of the movie–beyond “she’s far more important to that plot than bunny smoking and drinking”. like even if you added in more scenes, the woman was not given a fleshed out story in the slightest. what would more empty scenes achieve? what is the cost of visibility when you’re treated as nothing more than an omen to to the leading lady? 

her character was used as a half-baked plot device to further florence’s character’s story, all while showing extremely graphic self harm and violence towards the only black woman in the movie. the issue is so far beyond screen time and what’s been making people angry. they cashed in a diversity token just to brutalize a character they gave no time to develop. thriller and horror genres do not just have to be about violence and blood and gore. it’s about instilling an uncomfortability and fear that doesn’t have to include from physical violence. A better writer and a better director would understand that and make conscious steps to build suspense or fear in more psychological ways than just witnessing harm.

seriously, you really don’t see anyone else harmed nearly as much as kiki’s character and if that was social commentary, they shat the bed and did nothing to expand and build that case. 

REBLOG IF YOU HAVE STRETCHMARKS

This way people can see they’re not alone. I have them and this would help me see that.

p0rn w/ feelings is so funny it’s like I’ve tricked you into reading this fic by offering you smut but as soon as you get there I pull out a chair, sit backwards on it, and say “hey, pal. you wanna talk about abandonment issues?” and then you have no choice but to listen

FOGGY WOULD BUY MATT THIS, IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS IDC IDC IDC FOGGY WOULD BUY MATT A TINY DAREDEVIL PLUSHIE AND MATT WOULD PRETEND TO BE MAD ABOUT IT BUT WOULD TREASURE IT FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE

Reblog if you're...

Horny

Gay

Touch starved

All of the above

Hot girl movies

Movies i’d usually gate-keep about addiction, growing up, being a teenage girl, music, the 2000s and late 90s, femininity, mental illness, etc. (you might actually not have heard about some of these.) (some of these r pretty popular I know!!)

Blue Car (2002)

White Oleandor (2002)

Speak (2004)

Firefox (1996)

Kids (1995)

Palo Alto (2013)

Heathers (1989)

Augusta Gone (2006)

Hard Candy (2005)

American Beauty (1999)

Lords of Dogtown (2005)

Ghost world (2001)

Trainspotting (1996)

Juno (2007)

Thirteen (2003)

The Virgin suicides (1999)

Buffalo ‘66 (1998)

Gone Girl (2014)

Girl interrupted (1999)

Black Swan (2010)

Mid90s (2018)

Whip It (2009)

Lady bird (2017)

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower (2012)

Normal Adolescent Behaviour (2007)

Blue Valentine (2010)

Crazy Beautiful (2001)

Its a funny kind of story (2010)

Slums Of Beverly Hills (1998)

Anywhere But Here (1999)

Adventure Land (2009)

Save The Last Dance (2001)

Garden State (2004)

Rules Of Attraction (2002)

Promising Young Woman (2020)

Requiem Of A Dream (2000)

Gia (1998)

Candy (2006)

Beautiful Boy (2018)

Almost Famous (2000)

The Basketball Diaries (1995)

The Craft (1996)

The Diary Of A Teenage Girl (2015)

But I’m A Cheerleader (1999)

Boyhood (2014)

Spun (2002)

Red Road (2006)

The Piano Teacher (2001)

Bulbbul (2020)

Sucker Punch (2011)

Ginger Snaps (2000)

Helter-Skelter (2012)

Cruel Intentions (1999)

I, TONYA (2018)

Amelie (2001)

Daisies (1966)

Perfect Blue (1997)

Prozac Nation (2001)

Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? (1962)

Leon (1994)

Valley Of The Dolls (1967)

The Crush (1993)

Carrie (1976)

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

If anyone actually sees this and likes it I’d be more than happy to make a part 2. This took me awhile lol. I know some of these are a little basic but I tried to have a strong mix of well-known and lesser plus romance, comedy, psychological thrillers, cheesy etc. Its very broad so there’s something for everyone and hopefully something new for someone.

@pastafossa we now know what he smells like

I love how the She-Hulk crew has been nothing but love for Charlie and Matt 💞

Apparently Charlie and Tatiana have great chemistry as well 👀

Also this answer to what Charlie smells like according to Jameela (who plays Titania in She-Hulk) 😂

studio love | h.s.

well, i’ve returned with something about harry for the first time in almost 3 years.. finally got my brain to turn back on and write for him. i really like the backstory i created here so i think i might keep it going as a series and they’ll be connected but also can be read standalone, please do let me know what you think. i do really like the way this turned about and i hope you do too.

its husband!harry i love you already

warnings: smut (please only read if you are 18+ years of age), language

words: 10.9k (harry writes and records a song that will never be released but still enlists you for help with it)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The incessant vibration of your phone ringing pulls you from the near catatonic state you had fallen into while watching some random movie you found on tv. A smile breaks out on your face when you catch sight of the contact name and picture bringing your phone to life. Your heart picks up happily in your chest at the call. You nearly drop the phone in your haste to answer it. 

“Hi.”

“Hello, m’baby,” the voice on the other end is rough; like it’s been used all day. There’s a fluttering in your stomach at the gruffness and you feel bad for having that swooping excitement when you know he’s tired. It’s just that it’s so attractive. 

You smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure, my heart?”

“I was just wonderin’ what you were up to?”

Letting out a sigh, you clutch the phone tighter to your ear and sink deeper into the couch. “Technically, you could say I'm watching a movie. But, before you ask, I couldn’t tell you at all what I’ve been watching.”

A laugh rings out through the phone and you let out another sigh- this one content as it settles something within you. That sound is like home to you. “Yeah, you tend to do that.”

You hum, picking at a loose thread on the blanket that is currently covering your legs, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just in the studio.” 

“Yeah? When are you gonna be home?” 

There’s a noise that sounds like it was sucked through his teeth. “About that…” he trails off. 

“Harry..” you whine out his name, dramatically, close to something a child would do. “I miss you. And I’m so bored.”

“You love me, right?” Harry questions, sounding like he’s close to laughing after ignoring your whiny complaints. By this point in your relationship, he’s used to how needy you can get and he truly just finds it amusing. Because he knows he doesn’t neglect you for very long; normally it’s only a few hours a day but you’ll miss him regardless.

And he can’t complain because he just ends up the same way if you’re too busy for a few hours to give him your attention.  

The affronted noise that leaves you, at his question, breaks a laugh out of Harry and your offense to the question lessens. “I’ve been willingly married to you for four years, Harry.”

Choosing to get married young came with a lot of concerns, a lot of questions. Especially since one half of the marriage was just starting to make headway with a solo career after coming out of the worlds largest boy band and the other was just a measly author. It raised so many questions: why would you do this so young, are you pregnant, what’s the rush, what if you guys don’t work out, what if your careers pull you apart. None of those questions bothered you because you just knew, you knew from the moment you’d met that it was meant to happen this way. There was no point in waiting when you both just knew you’d end up married, whether it was at the ages of 23 and 24 or now at the ages of 27 and 28. Your relationship didn’t really change once you got married either; you’re still that same sickeningly in love couple that does everything together, can’t stand being apart, and is always on top of one another. A couple that hardly ever gets sick of the other's presence and just wants to always be around one another. 

Your relationship is strong. You never really worried about it. Never worried about it coming to an end. It helps that no one outside of your guys’ private circle knows that you’re married as well. There’s no pressure on your relationship, no outsiders chiming in on how they feel about your relationship and how you’re too young to be in such a serious relationship. They will never understand how your relationship has been serious since the moment you’d started dating. That you’ve been wearing each other’s wedding rings since about six months into your relationship, even if you weren’t married yet. 

Sure, the public knows that you’re together- can’t really hide it with the status your husband holds but it is private. You’re rarely ever seen unless it’s at an event or at a concert, or some sleazy paparazzi has been following you around. The fans you do run into in public respect your privacy as much as you ask them to. But, even with how private you are, you’re not shy with social media- you use it ten times more than Harry ever will again. But you don’t exploit your relationship though, you value it too much to do something like that. Regardless, the fans go absolutely insane when Harry can be heard far off in the background at the very end of a video, or even if it’s just his hand in the corner of a picture. 

But nothing else truly matters, no public status, prying fans, or anything in between when you’ve been happily married to the love of your life for over four years now and you’ve never been happier or healthier. Never been so in love. In fact, you feel more in love every day. 

“Yes, baby, I know, I have been there through it all.” Harry giggles and your heart just continues to swell at the sound. “But, like, I meant more of like a right now situation and not overall. I know you love me but, like, do you love me enough to leave the house and come to the studio to help me with something?”

You squint your eyes even though he can’t see you. “Why? Wasn’t it a full session today? What do you need my help for? Won’t I get in the way with everyone there?”

“You’re never, ever, in the way m’love.” he states and even though you can’t see him, you can just see the hard stare set in his eyes as they bore into yours and the seriousness in his face. You whisper out an okay just before he continues, “but, no one is here- they all left for the night.”

A frown pulls at your lips, “Then why aren’t you coming home, too?”

Harry let out a huff, “We recorded this song today, one that I won’t ever release.”

“Why record it then?” you question when Harry takes a pause. 

“I want you to hear it. I really like it and I want to finish it but I feel it’s missing something. I know if you were to hear it, you’d be able to help me.”

You let out a thoughtful hum and tilt your head back to rest on the cushion of the couch, “Did you record it with me in mind?“

“Always, baby.” You can just hear the smile on his face. 

He has told you multiple times that you are the reason he can create his music. His muse. 

And you can’t help but smile at him even though you’ve decided to give him a hard time, “You can’t just play it over the phone?”

It’s Harry’s turn to let out an affronted noise, “I thought you knew me better than that, love.”

You laugh. 

“You need the full immersive experience. I can’t believe you’d suggest over the phone.” he scoffs and you can picture him shaking his head at you. 

You continue to laugh for a few moments, the noise he made triggering a laugh attack that you just can’t stop. Harry laughs too, his melodic chuckle mingling with yours like a song. One you can listen to forever.  

“But it’s so late and I’ve already showered,” You continue to complain through your laughs. 

“Oi, will you stop fuckin’ with me, please?” 

There’s an underlying tone of irritation in his voice and you calm down enough to only a few giggles. You love him so much. 

“If you don't get your cute ass up off the couch, right now, and get here, I will just stay here tonight.”

You sit up and reach for the remote on the coffee table and turn off the tv. “You think my ass is cute?” you ask as you get up and make your way to the stairs. 

Letting out a dramatic sigh, Harry tuts at you, “Of course that’s all you heard.” You’re almost positive he’s shaking his head. “Will you please just come here?”

“Of course I will, baby. I was only messing with you.” He lets out a hum and you set your phone down on the bed and put it on speaker so you can continue to speak with him as you get dressed to leave. “I like watching you work. It’s very hot.”

He expertly avoids the compliment like he always does, “So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’m just putting on some clothes and I’ll be right there.” 

“Wait, were you naked? You can always come like that.” You can just hear the smirk that’s plastered on your husband's face. 

“Isn’t that how I am when I usually do?” you question. 

“Oh, you cheeky minx. I’m glad your mind is in the gutter because so is mine.”

Your body flushes at his words, at the possible things he’s thinking of. “Isn’t it always?”

“How could it not be?” he challenges and there’s a clatter of something hitting the floor in the background; a soft curse follows it. It makes you smile. “You are m’wife.”

“Okay,” you blush, your voice taking on the shy tone it normally does when he compliments you. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Mmm, good.” He hums.  “Do drive safely, will you? I’ll see you in a bit, m’love. I love you.”

“I love you.”

-

With it being almost midnight, the normal receptionist of the building is gone for the night and in her place is the security guard that takes over after hours. His name is Dan and he’s a very nice man that’s always excited to see you. 

“Mrs. Styles!” He greets, giving you a wave. “Another long night?”

“Hi Dan,” you smile at him, “and it does seem that way!” you continue while walking through the lobby. 

“He’s in studio 5.”

You give him one last wide smile as you turn the corner to where the elevators are. You’ve been here so often in the past few months that Harry’s been using this studio, that you can nearly do it with your eyes closed. The door is slightly open when you reach it and you gently push inside, relaxing at the dim lighting of the room. Further relaxing when you see your husband hunched over at the soundboard, clicking away on his laptop. 

A song is filtering through the speakers at a low volume, too low for you to really catch anything from it but the bits you can hear are awfully sultry- more sultry than you’ve ever heard from him before. You’re definitely intrigued and you know that you gave him a hard time with him asking you to come down here but you sure are excited to hear the song to its full potential. 

Harry turns around when the door locks shut behind you, a smile brightening up his face when he takes in your frame. His eyes trail all over your body and it makes you flush, the intensity of his gaze never failing to make you feel like you’re about to catch on fire. Your knees wobble a bit underneath you and you prop yourself up against the door to make sure you don’t collapse as he starts to make his way over to you. Even after all these years, he still makes you feel unbelievably fluttery; like you could take flight with just a simple look from him. You hope it never changes. 

His smile is borderline teasing as he watches you watch him cross the room, over to where you’re resting against the closed door. Your heart swells in your chest; the adoration in his eyes makes it hard to breathe even though you know for fact that your own eyes mimic his. Know for a fact that your eyes have hooded and everything when you tip your head back the closer he gets so you can hold the eye contact. 

His hands come up to frame your face, his rings cool against your heated skin- a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand- and brushes one of his thumbs across your bottom lip before replacing it with a gentle press of his lips. The kiss is so gentle that you just melt right into him, your shoulders sagging and a peaceful feeling spreading through your entirety. It’s such a sweet greeting, one that you didn’t realize you were craving until you got it. You’re never truly at peace when you’re away from him. 

“Mmm,” he hums appreciatively, placing three quick kisses to your lips before pulling away to rest his forehead to yours. He takes in a deep breath, his eyes closing as he does, “I’ve missed you.”

You bring your hands up to wrap around his wrists, your thumbs brushing over the backs of his hands as they still hold onto your face. “Me, too.”

You both just stand there for a moment, breathing each other in- taking a moment to recalibrate after being apart for the better part of the day. 

It only takes a few moments for Harry to settle, his heart rate evening out as he too becomes peaceful in your presence. “Kinda upset you didn’t turn up naked.”

Harry pulls back a bit, his hands dropping to the sides of your neck. His eyes trail over your, clothed, body like he hasn’t seen you in months and not just a few hours. Your heart jumps at the lust slightly clouding his eyes as they linger a bit on your exposed thighs. 

“Dan sure would’ve gotten a show if that were the case.”

His eyes jump back up to yours and your breath hitches slightly in your throat at the rate in which they’re darkening. “He’d only be so lucky.” The smirk plastered on his face makes you giggle, borderline nervously, as he shamelessly compliments you. It doesn’t matter how often he does it, you will never get used to the genuine compliments he showers you with on a daily basis. He’s just so unabashed in his affections towards you and it will always make you swoon. 

Your hands drop from Harry’s wrists as he starts to trail his own down the sides of your body to where they stop on your ass. He gets a good grip before he’s pulling you flush against his body. His touchy neediness shines through and it’s clear that you’ve been on his mind most of the time you’ve been apart. 

“You really missed me, huh?” You tease, laying your palms flat against his chest. Your own chest heaving a bit at the sudden, closer, proximity to your husband. You missed him just as much today, craving his touch on you in any way you could have it. 

“You know I always do, baby,” he murmurs as he dips down to place a delicate kiss to the soft, sensitive, skin just below your ear. “Can’t be away from you for too long without feeling like breakin’ down.”

You absolutely know the feeling. 

“Same,” you mumble, kissing his pouty lips. “What did you so desperately need my help with here instead of coming home?” You accompany your question by running one of your hands through his messy hair, his eyes falling shut at the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp. 

Harry places a kiss to the arm closest to his lips before he grabs your hand out of his hair and slots his fingers with yours to tug you across the room. He slides your bag off your other shoulder and places it down on the coffee table before continuing to pull you towards the chair he was in before you’d gotten there. The song playing gets a bit louder as you come to stand in front of the soundboard and you were right to describe it as sultry. 

It’s almost daunting as well, like it holds a chilling tone to it instead of the upbeat, more groovy, songs he usually creates. It feels like the complete opposite of what he normally embodies but when you catch a few of the lyrics it makes all the sense in the world. The lyrics are racy and the chords of the bass and the strum of the guitar are extremely sexy. The song is so incredibly sexual that you feel yourself heat up. 

He’s crafted a very inappropriate song and you’re honestly so impressed. Harry has created songs with cuss words in them, with lyrics that are sexual and a peek into how he feels about things but they’re ones he’s always just messed around with to break loose his creativity. They always remained rough recordings and run throughs but this sounds almost like it’s finished. Like it would be released if it weren’t so deeply personal. The song is basically a direct explanation of his most intimate time with you. 

You’d be embarrassed that everyone else heard it today while recording it, if it wasn’t so ridiculously good. The song is so good. 

It honestly kind of reminds you of the night you shared on your anniversary last month. The vibe of the song is what you’d picture as a backtrack to that night if it were a movie or something. 

Harrys grabs your attention as he grips onto your waist, the warmth of his hands radiating through your shirt. He pulls you down into his lap, situating you slightly so you’re sat more sideways than anything else- most likely so he can see your face and you can see his. His tattooed arm secures itself around your waist, his hand pressing into your belly to keep you in place. You smile at the placement, placing your hand to rest over his. 

“Uhm,” he pauses to clear his throat when his voice cracks a bit. He continues after a moment, while messing around with something on his laptop, “Our anniversary night has been playing in m’head like a movie. I haven’t been able to really work on anything since.”

A big smile slowly starts to make its way across your face at his explanation, absolutely giddy at the fact you were so spot on- so in sync. You know what he’s dealing with. That night was so amazing you haven’t really been able to move on from it. You and Harry have always had a wonderful connection, emotionally and physically. And because you’ve had such a wonderful emotional connection from the very beginning, your sex life is just the best you’ve ever had. Harry has also expressed this to you on more than one occasion. The love you share is just so- so deep you can’t ever see it changing. 

You’re both just in love. 

“That red room just really stuck with me, y’know?” Harry chuckles, the noise coming out raspier than normal. Now, it makes sense as to why that lust has been simmering in his eyes since the moment he set his eyes on you. He’s been singing about that exhilarating night, all day. His hand tightens on your belly and the butterflies floating around just flap a bit harder. “It’s really heavy on the instrument, with a sort of alluring crescendo. The bass is really what conveys how I feel about the night.”

“It was a really good night,” you whisper, catching his attention as he turns his head to look at you. His pupils are blown and you can see how he’s become a bit dazed, like he’s recounting the night. 

“Really good,” he agrees, nodding his head absentmindedly as his eyes flit down to your lips momentarily. A heat is building very rapidly in the pit of your stomach and you really want to rip off his clothes. He clears his throat, looking back to his laptop. “I’ve never made something so sensual before but this song is solely about you and only you, so it makes sense. I was able to find a way to express the night without explicitly mentioning anything we did.”

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest at his words, your blood rushing through your body and making you so unbelievably hot that you want to strip down to exactly how he wished you to be when you got here. He looks back at you again and the tension that’s built between the two of you is so palpable that if anyone were to walk in, they wouldn’t be able to break it. You honestly didn’t think anyone could still be so entranced with someone after having been with them for so long, always having heard stories of the novelty of the relationship falling away- but not with Harry. Every day feels just like the first day you’d had with him. 

Harry’s eyes get even more dazed as he leans closer to you, like an invisible string is pulling him in and you know for a fact he feels the same way about you as you do with him. He presses his lips heavily to yours, keeping them there in a kiss that is clearly just to alleviate some of the pressure building up between the two of you. He wants you to listen to this song and get your input on it before he furthers anything. 

He’s a bit breathless when he pulls away. “Everyone really liked it, liked the vibe. But I don’t care about them. It’s only you I want an opinion from.” 

You nod, dazed yourself from the night you’re so vividly imagining and from the kiss he just granted you with. “You said it was almost done? What did you want to add?” 

He greedily kisses you again, only adding to the fire building within you. “I want to hear what you have to say first before I tell you my idea.”

You nod again, taking a kiss from him this time before telling him to play the song. The fierceness of which he’s looking at you makes you swallow thickly, goosebumps rising across your exposed skin as you look back at him- knowing the implications of his gaze.

Harry forcibly tears his eyes from you, almost reluctantly settling his focus back on his laptop. There’s some clicks on his keyboard but you can’t be bothered to look away from him, the furrow of his eyebrows endearing you far too much to focus your attention elsewhere. The same song from before restarts, this time louder and the rumbling baseline can be felt in your soul. It sends the heat building in your lower stomach directly between your thighs and you have to shift yourself a little to lessen the sudden pressure there. A smirk forms on your husband's lovely face as he glances at you, because he knows what a deep baseline does to you. 

Your eyes slip closed as an echoey guitar strum is layered over the bass. All the instruments stacked together make up a very slow and sensual melody that perfectly depicts how sexy of a night your anniversary was. It’s still strange to know that Harry is the one that put this together, this darker ambiance in a song that doesn’t seem like it would make sense with someone like your husband. He’s typically such a bright, happy go lucky person and to hear him make something so mystical, so ominous almost, is just odd. 

But then his voice filters through and it makes sense. The lyrics mixed with the rasp of his voice, the gruff timbre he’s singing in pulls it all together to compile the sensual song he was describing to you before. It makes you shiver. Makes you feel like you’re about to catch fire. 

Your Harry is so incredibly talented. 

You find yourself swaying a bit to the lyrics as they reverberate through the speakers and into your senses. They’re so subtle that if you didn’t know Harry personally you wouldn’t really have a clue what he was talking about. Even then, you know for a fact the way he’s put together such beautiful sentences that what he’s saying truly only makes the most sense to you and you absolutely love it. 

You can just hear the love within the lyrics even though the tone of his voice is just filled with the most amount of lust you’ve heard from him on a song. 

There’s a guitar solo in there that makes your chest heave a bit and your nose tingle. The undertone of the drums during the solo makes you super proud of Sarah because you can hear the intricacy of them and it creates such a wonderful sound. Your body is practically vibrating at this song and you truly want to just rip Harry’s clothes off and show him how much you appreciate him putting this song together for you because of you. 

The song ends with such a high note from Harry that your jaw drops at the sound, the way it trails off with the slow strum of the guitar makes excited tears spring up in your eyes. 

Your reaction warrants a huff of air from Harry that hits your cheek and it startles your eyes open because you didn’t realize he’d gotten so close. Your gaze immediately meets his and you truly didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to get any darker but they surely did and it has your breath hitching in your throat. His eyes glance down to your chest where he can see the stutter of your breathing before trailing up to your lips, looking at them for a moment too long before he places a kiss to your warm cheek. The hand on your belly is tighter than it was before the song started and you only just now notice it when he tries to pull you even closer to his body, seeking out any contact from you. 

Wiggling a little to try and relieve some of the heat that’s built up between your thighs during the song, Harry lets out a grunt when your leg brushes up against the hardness that’s settled between his own thighs. The song has definitely made the impact it was meant to, his pupils are blown and your body is so heated that a shiver of excitement spikes through you. He’s looking at you so intensely, so so so intensely that your heart feels like it’s crawling up into your throat, creating a thick lump that’s hard to swallow around. It brings a wetness to your eyes and a shallowness to your breathing- it’s a look so full of undeniable love but so so so heavy with lust that it overwhelms you. His own chest heaves with heavy, deep, breaths that you can tell he’s focusing on keeping as calculated as possible as his eyes trace every inch of your face; like he’s trying to find the answer of how you liked the song before he even asks. 

You know the answer is clear on your face but you still have to say something. 

“That song was very sexual, H.” you whisper, your voice barely able to reach an octave high enough for him to hear but the way he lets out a tiny nod, you know he heard you. 

A deep breath from you pushes you closer to him when he breathes out a near desperate, “Yeah.”

“And your voice, baby,” you close your eyes for a moment to get your brain to straighten out. “I didn’t know you could get so deep.”

His eyelids get heavier when he looks at you, eyes barely visibly as he looks up at you through his lashes. His hand tightens on your lower belly. “I can get very deep.”

A tingle rushes through you at his words, the double entendre heating you up to your core, but you ignore him in favor of trying to get to where he needs your help. But first: “What did you do before recording your vocals? Gargle some rocks?”

Harry let out a loud laugh, one that throws his head back and makes his chest vibrate, the feeling of it transferring through your shoulder and into your chest where your heart swells. It has you leaning further into him, loving how everything just clicks into place for you when he laughs. You so badly want to press your mouth to his, to have him laugh right into you. To swallow down every sound he makes so you can embody them. But you know that if you do that now, you won’t ever make it to the part where he’ll get the help he’s requested from you. 

There’s just something about his kisses that make you tap out, make you forget everything other than the feeling of him and you crave that more than anything. The soft plushness of his lips against yours, or anywhere over your skin, just feels so right. Each press of his lips to yours or to your body is always exciting, always feels new. It settles something deep in your heart, in your soul, every single time without fail. 

And just by the way Harry always finds a way to get his lips on you; whether it be a greeting or parting kiss, a simple press just to show he’s there, a kiss to the forehead or somewhere in your hair you know he feels the same way. He’ll press delicate kisses to your arms or the back of your hand, if that’s all he can reach when the urge consumes him. They’ll be pressed up or down your legs depending on what he’s doing. To your back or shoulder, stomach or neck. Always finding a way or simple reason to kiss you. To feel you. 

You shake your head a little to get yourself back on track, realizing he’s stopped laughing and is just watching you. You have to clear your throat before speaking. “You wanted to add something?”

Harry nods. 

“What is it? Because it sounds so good as it is. The lyrics, the vocals, the instruments.” You exhale, fighting the urge to fan yourself. Your face and body is so incredibly hot. You shift on his lap again, needing some sort of relief. “I feel like I could explode, baby.” You whisper, leaning a bit closer to him. His breath hitches in his throat and you watch dazedly as his adam’s apple bobs with his harsh swallow. Grabbing his free hand, you pull it up to rest on your chest, “I mean just feel my heart.”

Harry’s hand is so heavy on your chest and his fingers flex when you’re positive he realizes the pounding of your heart. It is incredibly distracting and he has to clear his own throat before speaking, “If you could add one thing, what do you think? I have an idea but I want to know what you think first.” 

Your mind immediately jumps to what you thought of the moment you heard the opening guitar riff, “Moans.”

The hand resting on your chest trails heavily down between your breasts until his fingertips rest just above his other hand. His lips have popped open in surprise at your suggestion. “Are you serious?”

You nod hesitantly, pulling back from him slightly, “Is that too… much?”

“God, no,” Harry breathes out, “fuck,” and surges forward to place a searing kiss to your lips. The hand, not holding onto you for dear life, comes up to wrap around the back of your neck to hold you in place as he slips his tongue into your mouth with absolutely no preamble whatsoever. His tongue swipes across yours tantalizingly and you moan into him. He happily moans back, pressing into you greedily- like he needs you to breathe. 

“The way you know me, fuck,” he murmurs, pulling away but continuing on with pressing desperate kisses down the side of your face and to your jaw. They make smacking sounds because of how quickly they’re being placed on your skin and the breaths he lets out between each one are harsh. “Fuck,” he repeats just before he latches onto your pulse point and sucks stingingly at your skin. “Know me so well, m'love.”

The connection you have with your husband has always been such a turn on for the both of you. It’s been such a prominent part of your relationship from the very beginning, the synchronicity between the two of you is almost scary- especially to people looking in from the outside. You coincide outfits without meaning to, mannerisms, speech, thoughts- quite literally anything tangible between the two of you. You’re so in tune with one another that you can know how the other is feeling with a simple look or caress. You firmly believe that your bodies are connected in a way most people can only imagine; your souls being half of the same one that were separated but found their way back to one another. 

A shiver runs down your spine when he mutters, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

He kisses you again, absolutely filthy with the way he pushes in with his tongue and tries to pretty much climb into you through your mouth. Your arms wind around his neck and you pull him even closer to you, not minding the way he’s just absolutely trying to tear you apart. The kiss only deepens and he holds you against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he were to loosen his grip even just a fraction. 

The heat builds quickly between you as you just devour one another in a kiss that is going to lead to one place and one place only. You squeeze your thighs together in hopes of some sort of friction, wishing more than anything you were straddling his hips so you could grind down onto him. Harry pushes up into you at the same time and you can’t help but moan dramatically into the kiss at how attuned you are to one another. Knowing just what the other needs. 

“When I first walked in and heard the song, I thought of our anniversary. I imagined it as a backtrack to our night if we were in a movie.” You heave when he pulls away again to trail kisses down your neck. 

He pulls back to look at you, his heavy breaths fanning across your face, making you brush your lips against his in an almost kiss. He lets out a pathetic whine, one that you mirror when the hand on your belly slides down to just barely push between your clenched thighs, resting that much closer to the throbbing of your core. 

“I hope we never fall out of this.” Harry breathes, placing a frenzied kiss to your lips. You sink into him, becoming pliable under his affections. 

The fluttering in your chest is unbearable for a moment with your lack of oxygen so you pull away to rest your forehead against his, “I don’t think we will.”

“Good,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose against yours before diving in for another desperate, frenetic, kiss. Every ounce of love he has for you is tangible within this kiss. The devotion he has for you is felt in every languid swipe of his tongue through your mouth and it brings tears to your eyes. 

“We should record the moans. We should do that. Do you want to help me get the moans?” Harry frantically asks, his hands shoving up under your shirt and grabbing at your bare sides. He sighs in relief when he gets his hands on your skin, his distraught movements settling at the feeling. 

Your body is set ablaze and your heart beat is pounding in your ears at the feeling of him just everywhere. Especially with that skin on skin contact that you’re quite literally always wanting. 

“Well,” you gasp when his fingertips dip into the waistband of your shorts at your back. Your hands are tangled into the hair at the back of his head and you pull his lips to yours again, kissing him passionately. “I don’t want you going somewhere else to get them.” 

You’re breathing so incredibly fast, your chest heaving heavily- rising and falling rapidly as you throw your head back enough to let Harry mouth at your neck and no doubt leave behind another mark he shouldn’t. But you’re just so far gone you don’t even care. 

“I could never go anywhere else. Not when i have everything I could ever want or need right here.” He says, sucking harshly at the hollow of your throat before he soothes it over with the tip of his tongue. You let out a dreamy sounding sigh. “You’re m’heart and soul and everythin’ in between.”

You nearly sob out at his words a new desperation, to have him close to you, mingling with your bloodstream. 

“Fuck, I love you,” you pull at his hair. 

Harry groans as he trails his kisses up the underside of your throat before landing at your lips once more. It’s a heady kiss, one that you never want to end and he happily presses into you as deep as he can. 

“Let’s record those moans now, yeah?” He murmurs, out of breath, placing a kiss just below your ear. 

“Now?”

“Yeah,” he kisses the spot once more, adding his teeth for a brief moment. “Wanna take you, right here, in this studio where I’ve thought about you all day. All frustrated around everyone while all I could think about was you and how you feel around me.” 

The breath in your body evaporates at his words and you tug on his hair when the hand between your thighs pushes in further, his fingers brushing over the clothed bundle of nerves that so desperately wants his attention. He lets out a throaty groan, right next to your ear and you genuinely feel like you could melt right here. Just turn into a giant puddle of mush right in his lap. 

“Are there cameras in here?”

“No,” Harry pulls back to make contact with you once again. His eyes glazed over. “Wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”

You nod. 

The energy between you crackles as you stare at one another while you catch your breaths. 

“I’ll lock the file and everything, you don’t need to worry about someone other than me hearing us.” He informs, already knowing where your thought process was about to go. 

Nodding, you push into his fingers, desperate for some sort of friction to alleviate the painful pressure resting between your legs. You’re so unbelievably hot and bothered for him and how well he knows you. 

“Regardless of if we do it now or not, it doesn’t matter. I won’t make it until we can get home to absolutely ruin you. If it’s not here it’ll be in the car. I can’t take it anymore, gotta get my hands on you, baby.”

His voice is strained as he speaks and your brain just completely shuts down. It's like television static in there and you can’t focus on anything but the way your husband's lips and hands are pressing into you. The best you can get yourself to do is to nod, your mind just absolutely overwhelmed to do much else. 

“Use your words, will you?”

Your mouth pops open on a gasp and you breathe out, “Yes, please. Now.”

Harry nods vigorously in agreement, swooping forward with another heavy kiss to your lips. He’s absolutely relentless in how he kisses you, exploring your mouth in ravenous strokes of his tongue that leave you just shattered, completely out of breath. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, you happily take him in, giving back just as much. A hand of his shoves up under your shirt, skin heating up even more when he gets between your shoulder blades to press you closer to him. He lets out a groan, into the very, very, sloppy kiss, at the fact you chose to forego a bra. 

“Why don’t you straddle my lap, hmm?” Harry hums when he pulls away, his lips continuously brushing over yours. You dart your tongue out to trail across his lower lip. He moans. 

When you slide off his lap to stand in front of him, his body follows after yours that invisible string pulling him with you- not being able to stay away too far. His hands are like magnets to your hips and he squeezes at the flesh there when you wobble where you stand. Once you’re steady, he slides his hands up over the curve of your waist before he settles them around your ribs, pushing his thumbs up under the swell of your breasts. 

With your heartbeat picking up, you feel your eyes get unbelievably heavy at the sight of him below you. Hair askew, lips swollen and shiny, eyes hooded; Harry looks so wrecked already that you feel tingly in places that crave his attention. A fire burns deep within you that you know will only be remedied with the touch of him. So, you pull the shirt off of your body in a flourish, yearning for his touch on your skin. 

He leans further away from you though once your upper half is exposed to his fierce gaze and you whine, high pitched and needy, from the back of your throat. But, he’s quick to tug at your arm, immediately groaning out, “Come back.”

Stepping in between his spread legs, his deft hands wrap around the backs of your thighs and he pulls at them- easing you up to settle in his lap with each knee of yours on either side of his hips. As soon as you’re situated, you waste absolutely no time to roll your hips into his, seeking out any sort of relief you can find. A moan flies out of both of you simultaneously at the friction you both desperately crave. His hands curve over the expanse of your ass where he grabs a hold and guides you over and over his groin. The kiss you share just intensifies everything you’re feeling and it’s burning through your veins. 

Your lungs are screaming at you, begging you for some kind of reprieve so you pull harshly on his hair; Harry groans as he detaches himself from your lips with a heaving breath. There’s absolutely no time for either of you to catch your breath though because he’s mouthing at your neck in seconds flat, no doubt leaving more marks behind. You don’t even care, you just tilt your head back and give him more room to suckle at your skin. His hands are still firmly gripping at you, distractedly pulling your lower half over his and it’s steadily pushing you towards an orgasm. 

On a particular heady pass over the hardness nestled against your clothed core, your arms fall away from your husband and clumsily clutch at the arms of the chair for some sort of leverage. A hand shoots up to the middle of your back to keep you steady as a moan rips through your chest at the pleasure coursing through your body. Harry let out a breathless laugh against the skin of your chest, causing goosebumps to flutter across the heated skin there. You can’t help the pitched sigh that filters out of you through your parted lips, you just feel like you’re on cloud nine. 

Your lips ache to feel something again, to feel your lover again, like thirty seconds apart is entirely too long. Panting, you reach up once again and run your fingers through the curly hair that’s just below your chin and pull on it. There’s a smacking sound, partnered with a whine from yourself, as Harry’s lips detach from the skin on the swell of your breast. He’s panting as well as you pull his head back, his eyes immediately connecting with yours and you nearly whine at the hunger settling behind his pupils. His tongue swipes out to graze his bottom lip and you trace the movement with your own heavy gaze before dropping down to hungrily bite at his lips. You drag out his bottom lips between your teeth and the groan he lets out goes straight to your core, making you desperately roll your hips over his again. 

You’re both a desperate, needy, mess at this point, like you didn’t indulge yourselves in one another just this morning before you parted ways. You just want to be able to feel each other as much as possible, get under each other’s skin at any chance. You wouldn’t change it for the world and you hope that attraction to one another never fades. 

Harry brings his hand up to cradle the side of your face when you try to dip further down to smatter kisses all across his neck. He smells so incredibly good right now that you just want to bite into his neck and suck at it, hard. But, before you get the chance, his thumb is pushing up the underside of your chin and angling your face so he can get his lips on you once again. He breathes into the kiss, seemingly melting into your body as he kisses you urgently, all wet and hard as he all but shoves his tongue down your throat. You both moan and your entirety relaxes into him as you become pliant from the ministrations of his tongue against yours. You feel him relax even further when your weight drops heavily onto him. 

“We gotta get these off,” Harry breaks away suddenly and it pulls you out of your pleasure filled haze to feel him clawing at the biker shorts you’re wearing. He’s trying to get his hand inside of them but with the way you’re pressed against him with your legs spread, there’s not enough room for his large hands. “Fuck,” he whines, “Why didn’t you take these off when you were standing?” He presses a messy kiss to the center of your chest before dropping his forehead down to the same spot. His frantic hands have settled with his fingers under the shorts waistband at each of your hips. “Know you’re wet for me, need to feel it.”

Your breath gets caught in your chest on its way out and the harsh pounding of your heart in your ears makes you dizzy but he’s so correct. He’s never been more correct. And you need him to feel it too. 

“You didn’t let me,” you breathe, answering his previous question. You nearly tumble to the ground in your haste to get off his lap, eager to give him anything he wants just so he can give you everything you want. His hands on your hips stabilize you enough to keep you from falling to a heap on the ground because of your unstable knees. 

“Careful,” he murmurs, his body leaning towards yours like that string is pulling him once again. Like you’re the only person in the world he’d follow after, even if your movements are less than graceful. 

His eyes are wide as he just stares at you for a moment in front of him. Your breathing is still erratic and he watches the rise and fall of your chest with greedy eyes. He continues to watch your body react to his touch, the way goosebumps rise as he trails his hands down your body, to the way your hands clumsily gasp at the soundboard to keep you upright when he grabs onto your ankle to pull your leg into his lap. Kissing at your knee and onto your inner thigh, he works at removing your shoe then your sock before easing your leg back down. He does the same to the next leg and the slow, sensual, kisses he places to your inner thigh while his skillful fingers remove your footwear makes your chest stutter over your breaths. 

He hasn’t broken eye contact once and you’re positive you’re only seconds away from spontaneous combustion. 

Seemingly done with his teasing, Harry doesn’t waste any more time to bring his hands up to your hips once more. Dipping his fingers into the waistband on your shorts, he pulls them down your legs and lets out a grunt when he notices you’re bare underneath the spandex material. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, glancing up at you through his lashes before bringing his attention back down to your wet core. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your lower stomach as he helps you step out of your shorts and your muscles contract tightly at the contact.

Your body is absolutely aching for him. 

“Why do you get to be fully clothed?” you complain, your chest heaving at the want coursing through your body at a very very high rate. You just want him to touch you, skin to skin, anywhere at this point. The coil in your lower belly is so taut and the pressure built up between your legs hurts and you just want your husband. Fully. 

“Because this is about you, baby.” He smirks, running his hands up your thighs and squeezing at them once he gets towards the apex of them. You let out a heavy breath. Whining at the feeling. Wanting his hands everywhere. 

“Then I want you naked, too,” you sigh and he kisses at a spot in the crease where your thigh meets your hip, so very close to where you need attention. He hums as he leaves a love bite there too, making you cry out at the sensation. “Please.”

Harry is standing up in the blink of an eye, crowding your space and shoving you up against the soundboard- the edge of it digging uncomfortably into your lower back. He presses in so close to you, his front lining up with yours so perfect like it always does. His hands grasp onto your cheeks with a delicacy that wildly contrasts the way his body is pressing into yours. Wrapping your fingers tightly in the front of his shirt, you yank him harshly to you, not wasting a second to press a searing kiss onto his lips. A loud groan escapes him when you pull on his bottom lip far enough that it snaps back into place when you let go. 

Your body is so hot. You’re so hot, there’s a sheen of sweat starting to form all over your skin. 

“Off,” you pant, frantically tugging at his shirt. “Off, off, please,” you plead, grabbing at his back, bunching his shirt in your fists. 

Your husband laughs at you, a huff of air fanning out over your chest where he backs away from you just enough to get his shirt off. Your hands follow every inch of skin that’s being exposed to you, much like a magnet, until his chest is bare. Harry’s eyes slip closed when your fingers trail over the expanse of his chest and down his stomach where you wrap your hands around his plushy hips and pull him back to you. You both let out high pitched sighs when your skin comes in contact with each other, finally feeling a peace wash over you at the feeling. 

“M’wife, you’re so beautiful.” Harry murmurs, a breath being punched out of you both when he grounds his hips into yours. Your body flushes even more. “The things you do to me.”

“H, please,” you sigh, not entirely sure what you’re asking for. 

He plunges forward to place a kiss on your lips so hard that your head falls back at the force of it and you gasp. With your mouth dropped open on the gasp, Harry shoves his tongue into your mouth and the feeling it gives you weakens your knees to the point where you have to throw your hands down to the ledge of the soundboard to keep you from collapsing. One of Harry’s hands wraps around the back of your neck so he can keep your mouth pressed to his, so he can continue to devour your mouth with his kiss- while the other drops down to the back of your thigh, where he pulls on it until your leg wraps around his hip. 

You take the new position in stride, rolling your hips up into his to get some sort of friction going. Your body is absolutely yearning for him. A moan breaks the kiss and you’re not even sure who it comes from, just know that it pulls Harry away and has him dropping his forehead down to yours with his chest heaving. His eyes are clenched shut and yours follow when he grinds into you again, the fabric of his pants brushing against your achy core.

Harry takes a minuscule step away from you, just enough to be able to trail his hand lazily up and over your thigh to the innermost part where he takes a moment to knead at the flesh there. The moan you let out at the tingles shooting up your spine is so pathetic but you don’t even care, it feels so good. Anything from him would feel amazing right now you just want everything. 

“Harry,” you whine, pushing into him as much as you can. 

Rubbing his nose gently against your own briefly, Harry drops down to kiss you once again. One that’s a vast change from the devouring one he’d just given you, this one slow and oh so passionate. One that builds the burn in your chest so agonizingly slow, one that your body completely melts into and you become pliant with it. It’s one that effectively distracts you from anything other than his mouth on yours so you definitely don’t feel when Harry’s hand slips down to your core until his finger is nudging it’s way inside of you. 

Your elbows buckle under your weight when the second finger pushes inside of you and immediately curls into that spot deep inside of you that makes you feel like you’re in the stars. The hand wrapped around the back of your neck falls to the middle of your back to keep you steady against his chest as he relentlessly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your head falls back on a gasp, the kiss breaking as the pleasure coursing through you relieves the fire burning in your lower abdomen even if that coil there is winding and winding. 

The sounds of his fingers moving within you and the noises that are tumbling from your parted lips are absolutely sinful. They make you feel like everything is rushing through you so incredibly fast, aroused beyond belief. High pitched moans are tumbling right out of you from him wiggling his fingers around your spongy walls- to low throaty groans when he curls them up to graze over that spot deep inside you. All the noises mixed together could give the best of porn stars a run for their money. Your vision is clouding and you’re so unbearably hot, sweat is trailing down your spine and over your chest. 

“Kiss me,” Harry groans, “Now.” 

And who are you to deny him? 

When you tilt your head forward you catch a glimpse of his, absolutely, wrecked expression just before your eyes slip closed and you kiss him with all that you can. It’s hard to do though, your jaw has gone completely slack and all you can truly do is breath heavily against his mouth. The onslaught of his fingers is making it so incredibly hard to breathe properly, your chest heaving with moans exuding from your parted lips. Harry happily swallows your moans though as he keeps his mouth greedily attached to yours. 

That is until he pushes his fingers in as deep as he can get them and holds them there to press his thumb down onto your clit. You nearly scream out at the contact, a gasp leaving you so forcefully that it feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. Your head drops down to Harry’s shoulder; your leg on the ground feeling like it’s going to collapse, the leg around Harry’s hip is slipping, and your knuckles are white where you’re gripping at the edge of the soundboard. Moans are being ripped from you with your labored breathing the more Harry rubs relentless circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers stay where they are but curl up to brush against that spot deep inside. Your vision goes a little spotty with the force of pure bliss rushing through your veins. 

You want to touch him so badly, to wrap your hands around him in some way to get him even closer to you- even though he’s already as close as he can be. But you’re positive that if you were to let go of this soundboard you would collapse to the ground. 

“I got you,” Harry murmurs, placing a kiss just below your ear. You whine at his words, his name falling from your lips in a continuous sigh. The way he knows you so well makes you clench desperately around his fingers. “I got you, m’love.”

You collapse forward and onto him, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other over his shoulders, shoving your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighs out your name when you pull him against you, your skin coming in full contact to mold you together. You roll your hips against his hand so you’re pushing into the thumb rubbing relentlessly at your clit but you also just really want to feel his fingers moving again. 

A strangled moan passes through your parted lips and the fire burning through you is about to make you melt. Harry murmurs something in your ear, you can feel the vibration of it, feel the air of it, but you can’t hear it- blood is rushing through your head so fast you can’t hear anything else. All you are aware of is that your body is tightening up and you’re holding onto your husband with all your might because you’re seconds away from everything just coming undone. 

“Baby, I-“ 

“I know,” Harry breathes, placing heavy kisses to the side of your neck. “Go ahead, baby, come for me. Get m’fingers all wet.”

You groan at his words, the sound of it deep from your throat and you push into his body as you feel everything in yours just let go. 

“Yeah, baby, feel so good ‘round me,” Harry groans, keeping at pushing his fingers inside of you even as you clench around them through your orgasm. “You’re so fucking hot.”

A giggle is punched out of you through a lengthy sigh and it turns into a moan as your orgasm continues to push through you. Your head falls back on your shoulders once again and Harry takes that opportunity to attach his mouth to the exposed skin of your collarbones. You moan desperately, clawing at his back and rolling your hips up into his hand until it all becomes too much and you have to push him away. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, your entirety relaxing and falling limp in your husband’s hold as your climax subsides a bit.

Harry trails kisses up your throat until he’s got his mouth on yours again in a frantic, deep, kiss that’s all tongue and very wet. You both moan into it, your teeth clanking into each other when you both try to deepen the kiss. It’s so messy and uncoordinated that if you didn’t know any better you’d assume it was your first kiss ever. But, you wouldn’t want it any other way. That desperation, that yearning, to be so connected to one another is what keeps you going. 

You cry out a little, the noise happily swallowed by Harry, as he pulls his fingers out of you as carefully as he can. He kisses you through your tiny, blissed out moans, and you feel his wet fingers trail down the leg you have wrapped around him until he gets a good grip on your knee. He’s careful to lower your leg and he makes sure you’re completely steady on your feet before he’s pulling away from you. His hands come up to cradle your face as your body sags against the soundboard now that he’s too far away, which really isn’t that far, to be of support. 

Your chest is still heaving and the way his blown out eyes stare you down, sends a whole new round of tingles through your body- right to the pit of your tummy. There’s a tinge of wonderment behind the lust set ablaze in his eyes and you can just feel the admiration he has for you in his gaze. It makes you flush, your still hot body, only heating up further at it. 

“You make the prettiest of sounds.” He compliments, running his thumbs over your heated cheeks. “The prettiest of melodies to exist.” A kiss to your nose. “Better than anything I could ever create.”

“Harry..” You sigh, your eyes slipping closed at his praise. Your heart stutters in your chest even with how fast it was already beating, your orgasm still trailing through your bloodstream. 

“Got the prettiest wife.”

You smile at him, reaching out to place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating wildly under your palm. You go to compliment him, let him know he’s the most handsome husband but he doesn’t give you the chance as he swoops down to shove his tongue into your mouth with a languorous kiss that pulls a moan right out of you. 

“Do you think you got what you needed for the song?” You break away from the kiss with a gasp to ask. Harry is unrelenting with his mouth though, continues on kissing down your jaw- riling you up all over again quickly. 

“No.”

You gasp when he sucks harshly on a spot you know he marked up earlier with how sensitive it is now. You’re quick to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him away from you. He moans, far more riled up than you and you know he’s getting desperate for a release as well. 

“What do you mean, no.”

“I already had my fingers in you when I realized I hadn’t pressed record on my laptop. I wasn’t going to stop.” He huffs, going back for your neck. You instinctually tilt your head to give him room. 

You round your hands on his hips, dipping them into the back of his pants and under his boxes where you grip at his ass to pull him flush up against you. His pretty pink lips part in a gasp as he pulls back to look at you. His eyes are set ablaze and he looks absolutely ravenous. You clench around nothing at the look. 

Pulling at the front of his pants, you look up at him through your lashes, “Good thing you have another way to get even better noises out of me.”

“Fuck,” Harry rasps, his knees buckling a little. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“You better press record this time,” you whisper as you lick a stripe up the side of his neck until you reach just below his ear, “baby.” And you palm at him over the front of his pants. 

A groan, from deep in his chest, filters out through Harry’s parted lips as he squeezes his eyes shut momentarily. 

He surges forward and places a hard kiss to your lips before pulling away just as quick. “Get your cute ass on that couch, I’ll make sure we get all the sounds, darling.”

With another kiss to your lips, he lets you go so you can get yourself to the couch while he gets his laptop set up correctly to be able to record what audio he needs to. He lets you part with a light smack to your ass and a giggle as he watches you feign hurt at the swat. A giddy feeling rushes through you both at the thought of becoming one entity again. 

As you settle on the couch, you try and get your heart to settle down enough to get your breathing at least a little under control, but the more you watch your beautiful husband fumble around with his recording equipment you know the attempt is futile. You love him so fucking much. You love everything about him. You love the anticipation you feel whenever you look at him and he looks back at you because you know he has just as much love for you as you do for him. You love that everything between the two of you is mutual. 

Just like now, the way he’s looking at you over his shoulder, you know he’s about to worship every inch of you and he knows that you’ll happily return that worship. The small smirk resting on his lips is enough to let you know he’s feeling every bit of rushing emotions that you’re feeling. 

You smile at one another and you know for certain that he’s always going to create something for you, about you, and with you. And you’ll be there to help. 

“Wait, you think my ass is cute?”

The tinkling laughs you both let out make it into the final version of the song, right at the end where it all perfectly fades out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my masterlist is in my bio

please feed my narcissism

reblogs and comments are always welcome

@pastafossa just thought this would make you happy

y’all matt murdock jumping when he’s really happy makes me wanna cry because he’s just like me for real for real

like look at him bounce. oh my god i love you.

*whispers* guess what i have, oh look, it’s a trt chapter preview because now that i have my bed back and am sleeping better, i got a little writing done

 “Consider my schedule cleared for you forever. My morning wakeups are all yours, D.” 

Forever.

The word struck him like a physical thing, burrowing down deep inside his chest until it hit the very heart of him. The shape of the word, and the steady, truthful cadence of your heart, stole the breath from his lungs between one second and the next, his veins filled with a sudden surge of warmth. He only just covered his reaction and the way his heart began to pound, though he couldn’t entirely hide the hitch in his breathing. You’d likely made the statement without real thought. Or maybe you’d been joking. But…

But what if you weren’t?

i’m kinda scared to introduce eddie to y’all in the fic i feel like you’re gonna go feral for the dynamic dhdhfhf

First official look at Matt Murdock in She-Hulk! He made that mustard and ketchup suit look sexy like!!!