+

Where have h and bambi have had public sex and how do people tease them for it??

Well the worst time was in a back room at a photoshoot.

People heard them and Bambi had to go through the rest of the day trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Meanwhile, Harry, who had completely freaked out at first, got kind of smug and took the teasing as compliments.

“I will never visit you at work again,” she said on the drive home, arms crossed, her face screwed up.

“Why are you mad?” he teased. “You initiated it.”

“I’m mad at myself!”

“Aww, don’t be.” He poked her cheek and she pretended to bite his finger off, both of them laughing.

“How mad at yourself are you?” he asked, eyes on the road.

“Mad enough to say fuck it and suck you off while you’re driving.”

His eyes grew wide as he swallowed and she burst out laughing and pinched his cheek. “Just kidding. I don’t wanna kill us both.”

“Well,” he exhaled sharply, “I’m here for good time not a long time so...” As he pretended to unzip his trousers, she cracked up and swatted him on the arm.

“We’re shameless,” she said in between giggles.

“That’s why we cannot be with anyone else but each other,” he replied, an eyebrow arched. “Disappointed?”

“Very,” she said, but she was grinning.

cuore mio

from the series theadora.

for anon. smut. oral (f receiving), spitting, daddy kink, public sex.

"They're– Harry," she pushes his head away, and Harry lets out a groan, lips still puckered and wet from his kisses. "They're there..."

He looks up at the crowd in question.

Everyone's either drunk or too hot to care about anything around them. They're either singing, reading, or just taking a nap. He bites his bottom lip, looks around the small deck area they're on, and spots her beach towel she's been using as a pillow as she sunbathed before Harry interrupting her.

She watches him yank the towel away from where it's been sitting, and he opens it.

"What are you doing?" She laughs, eyes darting between the towel and Harry's boney fingers as he places it over their laps. "We look suspicious as fuck."

"They don't care," he murmurs into her neck, grabbing her by the side of it to move her closer to his face.

His kisses are slow, practiced, and wet. He smells of the beach, and the sunscreen she'd put on him a few hours ago.

And a bit of sweat.

She grabs him by the back of his neck, suddenly feeling too brave, and he opens his mouth, tongue finding hers as he sucks it into his own mouth. He smiles into the wet kiss, smiles at the noises she's making, knowing full-well he's got her under his spell.

Harry moves to her chin, then the side of her chin, her neck, then back up. He kisses her cheek with open-mouth kisses, and she giggles, hands grabbing him roughly, pressing him into her.

He lets out a growl when her hand touches his belly, then his cock over the shorts he's wearing. "You're so fuckin' hot," he whispers, forehead pressed against the crook of her neck. "So fuckin' hot."

"You are," she whispers, eyes trying to find his gaze.

He looks feral, eyes darting between each and every feature on her face.

He looks like a man on mission.

His hands say so.

"Yeah?" He bites the side of her neck. Hard. "I'm hot?"

She nods, watching his hand disappear under the towel.

She knows what's coming.

His warm hand cups her pussy over the tiny bikini bottoms she has on, and he lets out a moan, clearly not liking the fact that he has to work with yet another layer.

"Yes," she nods, voice quiet. "You're so hot, H."

"God– fuck," he bites into her shoulder, teeth almost breaking the skin. His fingers work the bikini bottoms and finally, they're pushed to the side, creating access for his long fingers. "You're so fuckin' wet."

She hides her face in the crook of his neck, smelling him, the smell of beach and sweat, and Harry retracts his fingers, quickly bringing them up to his mouth. He looks up at their friends, then back at her, and puts his fingers in his mouth, then moves his hand back under the towel.

She opens her legs wider, as discreetly as she can, and he breathes into her neck while his fingers rubs her pussy. He finds his rhythm quickly, the way she likes it, and she can't help but grab his other hand and place his fingers into her mouth. He rubs her pussy with his middle finger, bringing her slick up and down, and she bites his fingers in hopes of staying quiet.

She feels the coil in her stomach, so deep inside, and when he finds her hole, his palm pressing against her clit every time he pumps his fingers in and out, she feels like something gives up inside her. She feels hot, too hot, and she feels as though she's going to pee if Harry doesn't slow down.

She says as much while he licks the underside of her ear, lips then finding her earlobe and sucking on it as his fingers fucks into her harshly.

"Slower," she manages to whisper into his fingers. She licks them, kisses them, and Harry can't help but nod, hand going to wrap around her neck in a practiced manner.

His thumb strokes the side of her neck while he fucks into her with his long fingers, wet lips kissing and sucking on her warm, probably-sweaty skin.

"I love you," he chokes out, palm still creating friction against her clit. "I love you so much," he whispers, lips finding hers again.

She answers back, with her own kisses, wet mouths creating obscene sounds, and they're lucky Xander has decided to play music very loudly in the distance.

"Harry," a breath leaves her mouth, teeth clinking together, and he nods.

"Oh God," she fights his kisses, feeling too much all at once, and she leans her head back as Harry follows.

It's like he can't get enough of her mouth.

He abuses her lips with his, wet kisses all over her face, her mouth, and she feels his spit running down her chin, so she lets out another moan, hips already bucking up to meet the thrust of his fingers.

She feels it on the tips of her toes, her hands, her stomach.

Her cunt.

Everything feels on fire.

She's on fire.

"Gonna come for me?" Harry asks, voice raspy and low, and he licks the saliva that's running down her chin back into her mouth. He's clearly not looking for a response as he kisses her.

She can't help but nod weakly still, hand pressed against his. Then, she moves it to his upper body, fingers finding his pecks as she strokes the hair on his chest, then holds onto his necklace as he keeps fucking and rubbing her cunt.

"Come on," he nods, hair falling against his sweat-covered forehead. "Gonna come for me? For Daddy?"

"Oh fuck– fuckfuckfuck I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Yeah, that's it," his abuse on her cunt becomes rough, almost more focused. Feral. He fucks another finger into her pussy as she squeezes around his fingers, and she moves her hips against his palm as she begins coming undone. "That's my girl. That's my good fuckin' girl," he bites her chin, making her lean into the touch. "Doesn't even care that we're in public..."

She feels like she's in a dream, Harry's fingers still deep inside her.

"No..." she moans– whispers more like.

"No," Harry agrees, forehead pressing in the crook of her neck. He licks there once, then leaves a kiss. "She doesn't care. You'll give it to me whenever and wherever we are, won't you, baby?"

"I love you," she nods, feeling cold all of a sudden, despite his fingers being inside her.

She feels him smile against her neck, and he looks up. "I love you. So much."

"Yeah?" She feels the need to ask. Again.

"I love you so, so fuckin' much," he kisses her cheek, his free hand wiping the saliva off her chin, and cheeks. "You're my heart."

"I am?"

"You are. You are everything."

‘c’mon’ you pleaded silently on your back, watching harry fumble with his belt buckle in sheer desperation. ‘inside, please. want you inside of me,’ he growled at your request, practically shoving his jeans just under the curve of his bum before lifting the flowy dress up your body, ‘fuck, you should wear this more often’

MANCHESTER NIGHT TWO

prompt: Harry is having his ‘adjustment day’ and everyone has to suffer with him

word count: 7k+

warnings: smut, blood, minors dni 18+

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.

*thanks to @ladylazarus98 and @fallon-carrington123 for inspo 😙

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

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story

As stated before, like clockwork, a couple dates into tour - Harry gets crabby beyond belief.

It’s been happening since the Up All Night Tour.

Give it just a few shows until his body starts to catch up and then he has to get back into the routine which takes some adjustment.

He’s also hasn’t had a stage this big for his tour since One Direction days and now he has a whole stadium to prance around in.

Tour means drastically less sleep, a thousand more pounds of pressure on his shoulders each day, extreme amounts of exhaustion from his actual show, and less time for anything but performing.

Harry has always managed to juggle all these things pretty well except for his sporadic bouts of crabbiness and just overall poor mood.

YN had been used to those for every tour, just waiting for the day to hit, sometimes it was the second tour day and then other times it was the seventh.

It turns out to be his fourth, if you’re including his set at the summer ball in wembley stadium.

Last night, Harry had been so utterly drained from his performance in his hometown that they hadn’t done anything but go to sleep after the show with very little spoken because he was still so overstimulated from everything that day.

YN is up earlier than him which is unusual, he definitely wasn’t fancying a workout after that show last night, he deserved a lay in.

They were staying with Anne, not the same home Harry grew up in but still warm and cozy - with many touches of mum that she knew he missed.

Anne is out to breakfast with a group of her friends, the house is quiet as YN fixes herself a cup of chai tea and sits on a chaise that over looks the well maintained garden.

Nearly an hour later, YN hears slow, heavy footsteps from behind her then a graveling grumbling, “Morning.”

YN already knew, just by the greeting that today was the day but she always had hope that she was wrong though she rarely ever is.

When she turns to look over her shoulder, she sees her husband in just his briefs, hair going every which way, and his face is still puffy from sleep - he looked adorable.

“Come have a cuddle,” YN offers, patting the spot next to her, normally, he would have curled right in next to her and they would have stayed there for a long while.

Harry’s face twists up before he’s shaking his head, “Don’t want a cuddle, I want a coffee. My mum doesn’t have the bloody oat creamer I need. Now I’m shit out of luck, I guess.”

YN wants to roll her eyes at him because the pout on his face is absolutely ridiculous and the way his shoulders are tensed up is dramatic.

“Well, we can go to the market and get some,” YN suggests the obvious option even though she really didn’t want to go through Harry being noticed out in public.

There wasn’t much time before Harry would have to be at the stadium which is still about forty-five minutes away from his mum’s house.

“Fine,” Harry huffs out before turning on his heel to go get dressed, feet still heavy and irritated as they drag against the hardwood floors.

YN knew by now not to personalize it, not to get her feelings hurt because that only made it worse - she tried to avoid any type of confrontation on these days because feeding into the negativity is what he wants - wants others to be in a foul mood like he is.

He returns back downstairs in a low-key outfit of a hoodie, running shorts, and tennis shoes with a beanie and sunglasses - people knew he was in the area, they were going to be on the lookout for him.

YN was already dressed in a pleasing hoodie and leggings, pulling her own hood up and slipping on a pair of sunglasses as well.

Harry’s quiet during the ride into town, his hand on her thigh but he doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t push him - he can get so overwhelmed and overstimulated that it can take a whole day for him to reset.

They’re in the small market, in the dairy aisle, and find a similar enough container of oat creamer that he can use for his coffee.

“Do you think I have enough time for a nap-“ Harry begins to ask quietly as they walk out of the shop after checking out but is cut off by screams.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry mutters under his breath as he noticed a large flock of fans that had formed outside while they were shopping.

Harry doesn’t stop for any pictures, tries his best to acknowledge the fans without stopping to greet them because he just doesn’t have the energy for it.

Despite his grumpiness, he’s always a good husband, pulling YN close to his side as he begins to try to nicely push his way through the group of screaming fans.

“Bloody eight in the morning,” Harry hisses in irritation as they get jostled around by the mass of pushing bodies.

YN feels a sharp pain shoot through her Achilles when someone accidentally steps on the back of her heel with their heavy combat boot.

“Ow! Harry,” YN gasps in surprise as she pauses where she’s standing and squeezing her eyes shut as she tries not to panic - it can get overwhelming so fast.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Harry asks urgently in concern, eyes hardening when he sees the back of her foot bleeding from a scrape - it wasn’t serious but it was preventable and looked like it hurt like hell.

Harry manages to keep a level head but his voice is loud and booming, “Everyone needs to step back. You just made my wife bleed. Give her space for Christ’s sake!”

He’s not yelling but it’s firm enough that everyone takes a step back with surprised eyes at his tone that he rarely ever used with the public.

Harry wraps his arm tightly around YN’s shoulder as he hustles them towards the car, quick as he whips open her door and helps her in - blood pooling in her sandal as it drips.

When he revs up the engine of his Range Rover, the crowd steps back a bit to give him space to peel out of the car park, he’s shaking his head angrily as he goes well over double the speed limit.

He’s quiet again, getting a good bit of distance between them and the market before he’s pulling over at a small empty playground and shoving it into park before he’s out of the car once again.

Harry is opening her door and gently reaching for her ankle, brows furrowed and an angry grimace on his face that highlight the dark circles under his eyes.

“What happened?” He asks as he examines the cut with careful movements, thumb caressing her ankle bone.

“Someone was too close behind me, stepped on my heel with their boot,” YN yelps when he prods at the sensitive skin around the wound and tries to yank her foot away but he grips it firmly.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes roughly as he steps away to open to boot of the car - scrounging around until he comes back with a water bottle and one of his clean tee shirts from the cleaners which he picked up yesterday, “This might sting a bit.”

YN’s hand grips the handle on the door and squeezing when he begins to pour water over the cut and wipe the dirt from the shoe away with his shirt.

It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure as hurt.

Harry then rips the shirt, without a care that it was an expensive cotton tee from Alessandro himself, and wraps it around her ankle in a makeshift wrap.

YN leans forward after he’s done, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him softly despite how stiff he is, he kisses back.

“Thank you, best husband,” She murmurs against his lips but he actually scoffs and takes a step back, a stormy expression still on his face.

“Yeah, really the best husband,” He frowns, pouring the water over his dirty hands before drying them with a scrap of the shirt, “If I was a good husband, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt or put in the position in the first place.”

His words were sharp, disappointed in himself as he shuts her door and gets back in the driver’s seat, grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

By the time they get home, YN is frustrated that Harry doesn’t have enough time to lay back down for a nap because sleep exhaustion was not fun.

She really really didn’t want him going out on stage when he was this tired, he always felt frustrated with his performance afterwards which just made everything spiral.

Harry isn’t under the same impression because when they get home, YN is busy cleaning up her foot and telling Anne what happened.

He disappears upstairs, YN assumes to get his items together to take to the stadium but she gets distracted with Anne and the cats.

It isn’t until the shiny black SUV pulls in to chauffeur them that YN realizes that she hasn’t seen Harry in about half an hour.

When she trails up to the bedroom they’re staying in, she sees him fast asleep ontop of the covers, he hadn’t even taken his tennis shoes off he was that deprived of sleep.

YN felt awful when she had to sit next to him on the bed and gently rub her hand over his chest, whispering, “H, need you to get up.”

It reminded her of his One Direction days.

-

They were so overworked.

All the boys ran in less than five hours of sleep and were expected to work every moment they were awake.

From recording to interviews to having cameras for documentaries shoved in their faces every other minute - they were constantly spread thin.

They were tucked away in a tiny tour bunk on top, the curtains drawn and they were both fast asleep with Harry’s nose buried in her neck.

After concerts lately, the team had been making the boys stay up even later to record for their next album - no care for how much they just wanted to go to sleep.

When Harry would finally crawl into the bunk, after a concert and then two hours of studio time, it would be two in the morning.

He would be asleep in a minute flat, YN could barely get a goodnight or I love you in before he was nuzzling into her and snoring.

It was like that tonight, they had just performed in Paris and it was an unusually hot night on stage - the heat had Harry’s hair matted to his neck where it fell out of his bun.

The heat always made it harder on their bodies to perform, running around that massive stage, and on a running timer of little sleep.

When Harry had ran off stage after the finale of Best Song Ever, he’s grabbing YN’s hand and rasping, “Just want to shower with you and sleep for days. C’mon before they try to grab me to record.”

They find him, however, before he can get onto the tour bus, and demand that he come record the chorus for Fireproof.

“Just want a shower and to sleep. Is it that much to ask for?” Harry grumbles unhappily before giving YN a kiss and pat to her bum, “I’ll miss you. I’ll try not to wake you when I get in.”

He always did. But it was okay.

It was nearly three hours later when Harry is crawling up the ladder and pushing the curtain back so he can slide into the bunk next to her before pulling the fabric back in place.

He smelled good of his normal eucalyptus body wash and mint shampoo, he was still a little damp like he didn’t want to towel off, and he was just in his briefs as he nestled in next to her.

“Mmm,” YN hums drowsily, acknowledging him as she wiggles back into him and sighing happily when he wraps his arm around her and kisses the nape of her neck.

“Sorry for waking you,” Harry whispers sleepily, planting a few more kisses along her neck and shoulders.

“What time is it?” She mumbles half- asleep still as she helps him pull the blankets over his body too.

“About four in the morning,” He tells her before being interrupted with a yawn as he begins it’s his head on the same pillow as her.

YN vaguely remembers huffing out that it was too late and that he needed sleep but by the time those syrupy words rolled off her tongue, Harry was already dead to the world.

Not much time could have passed before fluorescent light is infiltrating their little nest and a deep voice is announcing, “Time to get up.”

YN squints the light away, grabbing blindly at her phone to check the time.

“It’s six on the morning, Paul. Harry just got into bed at four,” She tells him through a groan, her boyfriend hadn’t even stirred yet.

“Don’t know what to tell you. They have a jammed packed day, no wiggle room. Harry, wake up,” Paul’s voice is louder this time before he’s pulling open the curtains to everyone else’s bunks.

YN knows Harry’s awake when he inhales sharply before taking a lazy, long breath out - lips smacking together against the skin of her neck.

She brings her hand to card through his long lock, nearly to his shoulders. They’re fluffy and soft from his shower the night before.

“I’m so tired,” Harry mumbles sleepily, eyes still shut as he nuzzles further into her body, “I feel like m’gonna die if I keep running on two hours of sleep every night.”

“I hate seeing you this exhausted,” YN replies sadly, massaging his scalp for a moment longer before Paul’s making his rounds to make sure they’re out of bed.

-

Harry still looked like that same sleepy boy right now as he sniffles and digs his face further into the pillow in resistance.

“H, the car’s here already,” YN tells him, letting her hand drift down the warm muscle of his tattooed bicep and forearm.

His eyes blink open harshly, pausing to process for a moment before he’s grunting, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner? Only been asleep for a minute and now we have to go. Bloody ridiculous.”

YN rolls her eyes as he pushes himself off the bed with a irate grumble, he begins shoving stuff in his tote bag, and cursing to himself.

She knows by now not to take it personal, to not argue because it only makes things worse. Sometimes that’s easier said than done but not when it comes to little things like this.

When YN goes to hike her own duffle over her shoulder, Harry hip bumps her, and lugs it over his own - like she said, even when he’s grumpy he’s an amazing husband.

“See you at the stadium in a few hours,” YN tells Anne, giving her a kiss on the cheek and allowing her to wrap her in a motherly hug

“Bye mum,” Harry says bluntly, giving her a wave before he’s stepping up into the car and shutting the door.

Anne looks at YN with a confused expression, taken aback by the curt behavior of her son.

YN waves her hand dismissively, “It’s not you. I think today’s his adjustment day.”

That’s what they all referred to it as.

-

“Well, it’s definitely his adjustment day,” YN scoffs in agitation as she slams shut the dressing room door and heads out to where the rest of the band is hanging out, “Date six this time.”

The boys chuckle because they know exactly what she’s talking about by their third tour, he’s just like clockwork.

A few minutes later, Harry admerges in his tight black skinny jeans, loose button-up, and a headscarf holding his curls back.

“Where’s YN?” He demands when he doesn’t see her anywhere in the vicinity.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been a douche at soundcheck and we’d tell you,” Louis shrugs, not bothering to look up from the video game he's playing with Zayn.

“You can go fuck yourself,” Harry snaps instantly, jaw clenching as he storms past his bandmates who just ignore him anyways.

He was normally the kindest, least problematic out of all of them so they’d let his bad days slide more easily than with each other.

YN is currently pouring herself a glass of fresh squeezed mango juice from the Kraft service table when Harry finds her.

“You know I love you,” Harry murmurs quietly as he steps behind her, she can feel him pressing up against her.

“I would hope so,” She replies with a chuckle, taking a sip before saying, “If not, we just wasted quite a few years.”

“Are you mad at me?” He pushes, ignoring the dirty look she gives him when he takes the cup out of her hand and swigs down the juice she’d just poured - he reaches around her to refill it.

“No,” YN sighs as she takes the glass back, leaning back into him, “Just hated days when you’re like this. It’s hard for me to watch. You just get worn so thin and get so mentally tired that it makes me sad to see you get pushed so much.”

“It’ll get better, in a few years, when I’m on my own,” Harry promises as he leans in to kiss her temple, hands squeezing her hips, “If I ever get the chance to do a solo tour.”

-

Oh, would he.

A sold out stadium tour to be exact.

And he wasn’t lying, when he went solo things did get a lot better.

He wasn’t spread as thin as ice constantly, everyday of the year but maybe now half the year - only when he’s touring or promoting but he definitely had a bit more down time for self-care.

It was the back-to-back concerts, like Glasgow, Capital Ball, Manchester night one, and now night two before Wembley, she was so proud she could burst at the seams.

Harry had been just a moody during soundcheck, a frown etching his lips downward as he kept an annoyed expression on his face.

“S’too loud.”

“I say it’s too loud so you turn the volume up?”

“Okay. Why is it suddenly becoming difficult to get this right? We’ve done it a million times before.”

Fans idealized who Harry is as a person.

That’s not saying that he isn’t wonderful and kind but he is human, this is the side YN gets too which is part of being in a marriage - the good and the bad.

People blog about how perfect their relationship must be, how Harry must bring her flowers in bed everyday, and never get cross with her.

Harry Styles the brand isn’t the same as Harry Styles the person.

Most people get the brand, very few get the person.

YN feels bad as she watches the audio techs scramble to make it right, bickering between each other as they fumble with the buttons and switches.

The soundcheck was already running too close to showtime which YN knows has Harry on edge, the fans will be let in almost as soon as they’re done - he’ll have to start getting ready.

—

“Hey!” YN squeaks, giggling quietly as she looks around the hallway, “Harry, you don’t have much time before you have to go on stage!”

“Shush up and let me kiss you before the boys find us,” Harry leans in, connecting their lips as he’s pushing her back against the wall.

“Oi! Styles, get your arse to the stage! What did I tell you about distracting him?” Preston barks at them as he’s trying to taper down a smile by putting his hands on hips like he means business.

Harry grumbles as he gives her one more kiss before bumping their noses together, “Want to go get pizza after the show?”

“Isn’t as easy as before. Now you need security and approval,” YN murmurs but there’s no heat behind the words, “I’d love to get pizza later.”

She reaches up to adjust his bandana, he looks like a frat boy with his golden dark tan, black cut-off tank, and ripped skinny jeans.

“Styles! I mean it! Now!”

“Bloody hell! M’coming!” Harry shouts back before flipping him the bird.

-

Harry picks a fight with Harry Lambert about his outfit, complaining about nothing and refusing any replacement item.

Everyone already knows he’s going to wear what was originally planned but he has to complain that the zipper was too flimsy or the shirt didn’t mesh with the shoes.

He didn’t want the three other shirt options and so he goes back to the original but debates over his shoes for nearly twenty minutes.

Lambert looks like he wants to strangle him by the time it’s over.

Usually, Harry would slip into his clothes with any issue as they planned these outfits in advance and Harry had specifically approved every single one.

YN isn’t in the room when Jeff chews Harry out about how he acted today at the grocery store, how he should have stopped and taken pictures, and signed autographs.

She misses that Harry had just told his best friend and manager to fuck off and leave him alone, to not come near him at all, and mind his own business.

YN had been sat with Anthony Pham as he clicked through pictures from the night before on his laptop, he landed on an action shot of Harry jumping up the few stairs when he was going crazy during ‘Satellite’.

She had meant to warn Harry to be careful about doing that and he had just happened to be storming out of his dressing room when she looks up.

“H, baby,” YN calls, unsure of where he was heading but he stops in his tracks and meets her gaze with a tight jaw.

“What?” Flat. Blunt.

“Anthony was just showing me some pictures from last night. Please be careful when you jump those stairs. It might drizzle and if you slip, you’re really going to get hurt,” YN tells him softly, it wasn’t pestering or nagging - it was because she cared and thought she’d remind him.

His face pinches up even more as he listens before he’s booming out, “I’m not a fucking baby. I don’t need to be told that. S’my show and I’ll do what I want.”

YN takes a deep breath, steadying herself so that she doesn’t match his negative energy but inside, she’s absolutely livid with him.

“You’re right, Harry. It is all your show, popstar. You do what you want,” YN scoffs as the angry rising up in her chest before she’s giving Anthony a pat on the shoulder before she’s walking away the from the situation.

Popstar.

When YN used it, it was an insult. It was to highlight how spoiled or egocentric he was being. Every time she says it in that context, it triggers him.

-

“I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m saying no and it’s final,” Harry huffs firmly, sitting on the couch in their first London flat.

“You promised me last week that you would come with us, H. Everyone’s expecting you and I want you to come as well,” YN bites back as she stands at their kitchen counter.

“No. It was leaked that I was back in London. Everyone knows I’m here. I’m not going out to just be bombarded with fans and paparazzi tonight. I’m not doing it after a three week long press tour for This Is Us.”

“Fine,” YN mutters, slamming her cup down a little harsher than necessary, “It’s much more important than what I want. Right, popstar?”

“That’s not what I said! You bloody know that I hate when you call me that!” Harry raises his voice, running a hand through his curls.

“Then stop acting like a spoiled little popstar!” YN retorts hotly, she logically knew she was the one being a little over dramatic - she just had not liked his tone.

-

His face instantly turns into a deeper scowl when he hears it, his teeth gritting together as he stares intently at her back before following after her.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Harry demands lowly as he takes strides behind her, “M’not being a popstar, I just don’t need mothered.”

YN spins on her heel, crossing her arms, “I’ve been plenty plenty patient with you today. My patience has run out. You need to adjust your attitude or you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Rather that anyways,” Harry hisses brattily, kissing the back of his teeth - YN can see straight through the rough guy act.

Anyone else would be intimidated by his broad shoulders, stoney glare, and clenched jaw but not her, not one bit, she doesn’t back down.

“Don’t come crying to me when you hurt yourself on stage,” She shrugs casually before shaking her head in disbelief at his overall attitude today.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry rumbles back before he’s storming off, back towards his dressing room before he’s swinging open the door and slamming it shut.

YN has to chuckle because even on his worst days, like today, he’s just a little brat but never gets to the point where YN feels anything but a mixture of annoyance and fondness.

YN inhales deeply to let the annoyance flow out of her body as she walks towards Harry Lambert to get her outfit for the show.

It was a simple light washed gucci jumpsuit, the denim was the same color as the denim that made up Harry’s overalls. ***

(imagine them in the same color denim as Harry’s)

YN was planning on a cute pair of mule heels but with the cut on the back of her ankle, she figured she better go for something more comfortable.

She decided to just keep on her slides, she was going to stay off to the side of the stage tonight - about halfway through the show Anne and everyone else would join her.

It’s nearing showtime when YN realizes she hasn’t seen Harry in a hot minute as she sees Jeff storming down the hallway - near red in the face.

“What’s going on?” YN questions with concern as she sees Harry jogging down the long corridor towards the stage.

“He fell asleep and now he’s pissed that he only has five minutes until showtime,” His manager huffs before he’s mumbling an update on his walkie.

“Maybe if somebody fuckin’ woke me up!” Harry complains boisterously as he’s tucking his ear pieces into and hustling towards the stage where he now has less than a minute until showtime.

He’s too distracted by being rushed to the stage by the crew for YN to wish him luck or anything like that but YN finds a storage box to sit on - on side stage.

She can feel the camera flashes not only on Harry but on her as well, it was always awkward to remember that people would film her watching Harry and post it as well.

The show is going fine, Harry seems to be a little more subdued than the night before but overall he always manages to put on a great performance and his fans won’t be able to tell.

Towards the end of the show, a light drizzle begins to fall and coat the stage - making it slippery and what YN had warned against.

As Harry is going crazy during Satellite, he starts jogging backwards down the long catwalk before turning quickly to jump up onto the platform - skipping the three steps.

YN’s heart drops when she sees his face twist into grimace before he’s covering his expression with a forced smile again.

He hadn’t tripped or tumbled over but he most definitely had landed funny on his ankle, just like YN had ‘mothered’ him about.

It must be bothering him because he does not jump around nor does he run for the rest of the show, babying that foot.

YN’s first reaction is to be furious with him, she told him this would happen and he was in such a poor mood that he got angry instead and ended up hurting himself.

She wants to scream ‘I told you so’ as soon as he steps off the stage but she not going to make the situation even worse than it already was.

After the show, all of their friends and family who attended were supposed to go out to eat at a restaurant Jeff had paid out to have for the night.

However when Harry jogs off stage gingerly before slowing to a slow walk as soon as he’s out of the eye line of fans.

YN is waiting for him like always, feels a bit of warmness when he comes to her, dipping down to kiss her before pulling back and murmuring, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” YN murmurs, thumbing a stray curl off his damp forehead, “You going to go shower before we head out to The River’ Edge?”

Harry’s face turns stormy for the hundredth time of the day, he shakes his head adamantly as he straightens back up, “No, m’not going. I just want to go back home.”

YN already knows why but still prompts, “Why?”

“Why? Because I just bloody did a show for nearly eighty thousand people and I want to relax, not entertain fifty more,” Harry huffs like it’s obvious, crossing his arms and pouting out his bottom lip.

She’s actually relieved that he doesn’t want to go because she know his attitude wouldn’t have been any better there and this miserable day would have just dragged on.

YN’s heel was still hurting, the skin tender and sore, and she didn’t feel like walking anymore tonight either but the only thing she was worried about was Jeff.

He wasn’t going to be happy that Harry wasn’t attending his own party.

“Go get out of your stage clothes and I’ll go tell Jeff that we’re going to head home,” YN reaches up and rubs at his shoulder before turning to find his manager.

“Okay,” Harry grumbles before stalking off towards his dressing room, it was amazing what a mask he could put on when he has to for his job.

When YN finds Jeff and pulls him aside, he’s just as livid as expected and his patience is minimal based on his argument with Harry earlier.

“Why can’t anyone fucking listen to me?” Jeff shouts in frustration, he seems to have already had a few drinks in his system.

“Can you not control your husband for a fucking minute?”

“We’ve had this planned for months! There’s no reason to cancel.”

As Jeff continues to rant, YN is speechless as she’s being screamed at for something she didn’t even do but she was guilty by association because Harry was her husband.

However, Jeff becomes eerily silent suddenly as YN feels familiar hands grip her hips and pull her back into the strong, muscular chest of her husband.

“I know for a fact, you weren’t just raising your voice at my wife,” Harry states in an unsettlingly calm tone as he moves to step in front of her.

Jeff looks guilty as he glances between the couple.

Then Harry’s voice raises in volume, startling YN with the deep bravado that rumbles from deep within his chest, “I said I know you’re not raising your voice at my wife. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry,” Jeff relents with a sigh, raising his hands in surrender, “I just am frustrated that the party -“

“I don’t need to hear your excuses,” Harry cuts in, moving his hand to intertwine with YN’s as he begins to pull her away, “Don’t let me catch you talking to her like that ever again or there will be major, major problems. Understand?”

Jeff nods, embarrassed by everyone around them staring at the spectacle as Harry directs YN down the hall towards the exit of the stadium where there’s a car waiting.

They don’t speak during the walk, Harry stills spun tight and his shoulders are tensed up as he ignores all the crew ogling him with excitement and amazement.

In the SUV, Harry kicks off his sneakers which he typically doesn’t do so YN takes that as another sign that his ankle is bothering him.

Harry is the biggest baby when he’s hurt usually.

He wants to be cuddled, soothed, and wants YN’s full attention at all times (which isn’t very different from everyday for them).

But he’s stubborn and grumpy as all get out.

He goes easily when YN wraps her hand gently around his neck and directs him until he’s laying across the backseat with her nails scratching at his scalp as he blinks heavily, trying to stay awake.

The ride’s not even an hour but Harry drifts off after only a few minutes after the car pulls out of the stadium lot.

He’s groggy as YN unlocks the front door to Anne’s house and leads him up the stairs where he disappears into the bathroom to shower.

YN disappears downstairs to scrounge through the freezer until she’s grabbing a solid bag of frozen peas and pouring herself a glass of water, as well as one for him with a few pain reliever pills.

When she enters back into their room, she changes out of her denim outfit and into a cute pajama set because she didn’t want to sleep in her underwear at her mother-in-law's house. ***

Harry comes out soon after, not one for long showers when he’s sleepy and has just a tight pair of briefs on as he rubs his eyes. ***

“C’mere,” YN pats the space next to her on the bed then grabs the cold bag of vegetables.

“What are those for?” Harry grumps as he subtly limps to the bed and plops down heavily right up against her.

“For the ankle you hurt on stage,” YN raises her eyebrow at him before nodding down to where it’s swollen and bruising.

“I didn’t,” He argues instantly, defensive with his hackles up and knitted brows, “Don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining shit.”

“Mmm, must be,” YN replies nonchalantly, tossing the bag back onto the bedside table and acting like she’s wriggling down to get ready for bed - refusing to give into his antics.

Harry grunts and grumbles for a few minutes, turning and squirming because he does want YN to baby him and he’s fighting against himself.

YN is faced away from him, trying to taper down her smile when he finally relents after a painful day of attitude, “Want you to ice my ankle, baby.”

She flips to her other side before sitting back up, biting the inside of her cheek and shaking her head fondly, she loved her overly worked, exhausted husband so fucking much.

“Yeah?” YN hums softly, welcoming Harry when he leans over and nuzzles into her throat, “Ready to let me take care of you?”

“M’sorry,” Harry whispers against her skin, lips brushing against her pulse point, “I never get better at dealing with my adjustments to tour.”

“Been like this since you’ve been sixteen,” YN tells him as she directs Harry to move until his foot is in her lap and she’s wrapping a dish towel around the bag and pressing it to his ankle.

“Think I just landed funny, hopefully it will feel better in the morning,” Harry frowns, hissing at the cold touch before relaxing against it.

“Hopefully,” YN repeats as she keeps it pressed there, her thumb rubbing at his skin in soothing circles to calm him.

Harry pauses for a moment before acknowledging, “You were right, shouldn’t have been jumping ‘round like that when it was wet. Will you forgive me for acting like a prat today?”

“I forgive you every time,” YN giggles with a shake of her head, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let you put a ring on it.”

“We’re twenty eight now. Don’t regret letting me wife you up at nineteen?” Harry’s voice has taken a deeper rasp, he’s totally using his sex voice right now because despite how tired or injured he is - he will still try to get it in.

“Never for a moment. Got to marry the famous Harry Styles, breaking new records with every album, fat bank account. It’s working out alright,” YN teases coyly, goosebumps decorating her skin as Harry’s gaze gets more directed and intense.

“Yeah? Just married me for my money and fame?” Harry rumbles, leaning down to toss the bag of peas on the floor.

“And your big cock,” She smirks as her eyes drop to where he’s noticeably hardening and filling out the thin fabric, pushing against it to make more room.

“Always been a fan of that, hm? Never complain, exact opposite actually. Constantly begging for, for me to fill you up just right,” Harry’s fully turning himself on at this point as he grips the bottom of her sleep shirt.

She smacks his hands off, “Think you can act like an utter brat all day and still get the goods?”

“Said M’sorry,” Harry bites back, persistent as he reaches out again and YN lets him pull it over her head, her bare chest revealed, “Plus, s’your wifely duty. Be a nice little thing and let me ‘ave you.”

Those words shouldn’t make her as wet as they do.

“Should make you just make me come and not let you,” YN gasps as he ducks down, puffy lips wrapping around her nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

He pulls back for a moment, a cocky smirk on his face as he says, “We both know m’coming tonight. Let it drip out of you.”

“H,” YN whines at his filthy words as he bits at her nipples as he’s shimmying her shorts and panties off her hips in one fluid motion.

It’s not how she saw their night ending but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

There’s not any preamble because even though he’s horny, he’s tired, and doesn’t have the energy to go at it for hours.

He slips in with no resistance, moaning loudly into her mouth as he begins a steady, harsh rhythm that hits her spot every odd stroke and his thumb is tight on her clit to make sure she falls off the edge with him.

It’s only mere minutes after they finish that Harry is snoring softly into her neck, while body wrapped around hers - thigh swung over her legs, arm across her tummy.

It’s something that never gets old to her.

There’s millions and millions of people who adore Harry, they want in every way imagineable, they make it known by coming to his concerts in swarms.

People have been obsessed with him since he was sixteen.

But despite all that, Harry never changes.

He craves attention but he needs it the most from his wife. He lives for being able to snuggle and hang all over her at all times. He needs her to be there to take care of him and tell him he’s doing a good job

He’ll always just be Harry to her.

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CWsBjsogtu7/?utm_medium=copy_link

my brain straight thought about him edging you and all you want is for him to finally just fvck you and then he say what is in the video 😭😭

EDGING

A/N: you asked for it and im serving it. get ready for the juice!

WARNING: adult content, edging... bc he is just obsessed with it.

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

He is still wearing his light blue shiny shirt.

And nothing else

You’re lying across the king sized bed of the hotel room you share, only your lacy thong covering your soaking wet pussy that’s throbbing for him, a pained whimper slips through your trembling lips when he steps closer to the bed and wraps a hand around his rock hard cock, staring down at you with greedy, dark eyes. This is not the soft Harry who likes to cuddle you every night, who brings breakfast to bed just to see you smile first thing in the morning, who always surprises you with little gifts to brighten your day.

No, this version of him is dominant, demanding and in full control of you. Just how you like him.

He came off the stage extra cheeky tonight and judging from the way how he could barely keep his hands off of you at the venue, you knew things would get heated pretty fast as soon as you’re alone.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his lips as he gives himself a few slow, but sturdy pumps.

“Harry, please!” you moan, your thighs shutting closed to create some friction at least. He’s been taking his sweet time with you, he stripped out of your dress as if you were a gift to be unwrapped, made you stand against the wall as he sank to his knees, biting into your ass cheeks, his hands coming to tease between your legs that were shaking from excitement. Then he threw you to the bed, like an absolute cave man and made you watch him strip from his light blue pants and underwear, leaving him only in his shiny shirt, because you told him before the show how much you liked it.

His chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, some of his post concert sweat is still glistening on his warm skin and you’re dying to touch him, but you know if you don’t do what he tells you, you won’t get what you want.

“Keep them open, baby. Want to see how desperate you are for me,” he warns you, a hand coming to push your knees apart so he sees your wet cunt. “Touch yourself, let me see just how wet you are.”

Your hand moves down your chest and stomach until you reach the elastic of your underwear, but before you could reach under the fabric, he speaks up.

“No, over the thong. Want to see it drenched.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as you press your fingers against your clit, finally feeling your nerves reacting to a touch, but it’s not the one you desire the most. You move your two fingers up and down, pressing the lacy fabric into your cunt, between the lips as it soaks up your arousal.

“Does it feel good? Or do you want something else, baby?” he hums, cocking his head to the side as he keeps stroking himself lazily.

“Feels good, but I want you!” you breathe out as you try to get yourself closer to relief, but your body is working against you. It only wants Harry and you can’t blame yourself.

“Yeah? You want this?” he asks glancing down at his throbbing dick. Your voice dies in your throat so you only nod, but it’s not enough for him. “I want to hear you, baby. Beg for it.”

You moan at his words, your thighs twitching to close again, but you remember what he said about wanting them open so you force yourself to obey.

“Please!” is all you manage to get out. Harry steps closer to the bed, his hand letting go of his cock before moving to grab your wrist and pushing it away from you. With one swift movement, he rips the last piece of clothing, making you gasp from the sudden pinching you feel as the fabric gives up around your body, and he throws it to the side without batting an eye. It’s not the first piece he has ruined and surely not the last one either.

He places a knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over your shaking form, his cock springing freely with each movement he makes and the way his tongue slides across his lips gives you shivers.

“You know just one please is never enough for me,” he warns, his voice low and raspy after tonight’s show and you could come just from his words at this point.

“Fuck, Harry! Just… Ugh!”

It’s torture, how his fingertips tap on your clit a few times before drawing a few slow circles, teasing and playing with you.

“Just what, huh? You want my cock? Does your pussy want to be properly fucked?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your whole body on fire. He grabs the base of his cock, brings his hips closer, just enough that he can drag the tip across your lips, pushing a tiny bit into your hole, but pulling back right away. “Harry!” you moan almost as if you were in pain, but in a sense, you are. Every second that passes without him inside you is a painful one and you want him to end your misery.

“I told you, I want to hear you. You ask nicely, you get it. Stop being a brat and use your words.”

Fucking hell, this man will be the death of you.

“Harry, please! I need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me, please! I’m begging!”

The smirk on his face is so smug, so confident, you love it even if he is making you suffer. You’d do anything for him and he knows exactly just how much power he holds over you.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles, dragging the tip across you once again, tapping it a few times on your clit, smearing your wetness all over him and you as well. He pushes himself against your hole again, just the very end of the tip entering you, but doesn’t move, only watches you through lustful eyes as you fall apart for him.

“Harry! Fuck me, please!” you cry out, one hand coming flat against his toned stomach as he moves a bit closer, hovering over you. Running your hands up his chest, his neck, you lace your fingers through his hair and pull him down for a needy kiss that he returns gladly. His lips are sucking and tugging on yours, tongue invading your mouth, melting together with yours as his cock is still not inside you.

“Love it when you are so desperate for me, baby,” he growls, positioning his hips so his cock slips between your lips and he moves a little, slipping between them, the tip pushing against your clit over and over again.

He keeps this up, his head moving to the crook of your neck, marking you up as always so you already know you’ll have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but now you just want to feel him everywhere.

Then he pulls back, lining his cock up with you and you’re sure he’ll finally give you what you want, but just as you feel the tip entering you again… he pulls back. You gasp, tugging on his hair a little harder as he smirks down at you, so pleased with himself.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but he just chuckles, enjoying the game.

“Edging,” he then murmurs and with one swift movement, he thrusts inside you.

He fills you up fast and so perfectly, you’re convinced you were made for each other. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, starts moving rapidly, slamming his hips against yours mercilessly, pounding into you just how you like it. One hand comes to your thigh and he urges you to lock his waist with your legs, you’re more than happy to obey, allowing his cock to bury deeper into you.

“So needy for me, yeah? Who fucks you the best, baby? Let me hear it from you,” he groans into your neck, wet lips brushing against the spot he sucked on earlier.

“You, Harry! Only you!”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” he growls before biting into the soft skin, making you gasp from the sensation.

He is pounding into you so hard, you keep sliding further up on the bed until your head reaches the headboard. He stops for a moment, turning the two of you around so you’re on top, one hand on his chest, the other holding onto the headboard and you barely get situated before his hands grab onto your hips and he starts thrusting up into you, doing the job himself instead of making you ride him.

“Fuck! You’re so good, Harry! I’m so close!”

“Want to cum, baby? You think you deserve it?” he teases you, a few curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, his whole body glistening in the dim lighting.

“Yes! Please, let me cum!” you beg, your eyes meeting his and an animalistic growl erupts from his chest. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you, caging you in them as one of his hands comes to your lower back, guiding you, hinting that he wants you to finish it.

“Ride my cock and make yourself cum, Y/N. Come on, I want to see you using me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as you start moving your hips, arms clinging onto his broad shoulders. His face is buried in your neck and chest, kissing you wherever he can reach. Though you love the shirt on him, you want to feel him fully naked, so you tug at the fabric and he is quick to rid himself from it, his naked, toned arms wrapping back around you as you relentlessly ride him, feeling your orgasm building up and nearing.

“My girl is using my cock so well, look at that. You like it? You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you nod eagerly and craning your neck you capture his lips just when you feel the end nearing. “Can I cum? Please, Harry, I want to cum so badly!” you beg to him against his parted lips, your breathing mixing together.

“Yes. Do it! Cum all over my cock, baby!”

That’s all you need to explode, pleasure washing over your entire body like a tsunami and you scream his name, your walls tightening around him which brings him over the edge as well. He cums inside you, filling you up so well you’re sure it’s gonna be dripping out of you very soon. He is gasping and panting against your chest, his breathing warming your already heated skin.

You stay like that coming off your high, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, ass, hips and back, lips peppering soft kisses onto your collarbones. When he moves the two of you, laying you to the bed you grunt as he slips out of you, leaving you so empty, already aching to feel him inside you again even though you’re completely ruined at this point.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your lips softly before getting up from the bed and disappearing in the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and he carefully cleans you up, but you don’t miss the smug grin on his face when he sees just how good he fucked you, his semen dripping out of your now sensitive cunt.

“Like what you see?” you chuckle tiredly.

“I sure do. Love to see my girl full of me.”

“And you’re full of yourself,” you scoff, but reach for him to pull him down for another kiss. “I have to get up to pee, but I’m so tired.”

“We also should have a shower,” he smiles, pecking the tip of your nose. He reaches under you and easily picks you up into his arms bridal style and you have no idea how he has the energy to carry you to the bathroom after a show and the way he just fucked you. You stood at the backstage the whole time and only rode him at the end and you’re still completely sent.

He carefully sets you down to the toilet and you do your business without a care as he starts the water in the shower, grabbing two towels for you. When you’re finished, he helps you into the spacious walk in shower so you don’t slip and then insists to soap and wash you, taking good care of you. And just like that, he is back to caring boyfriend mode.

And you just love all versions of him.

Pittsburgh

fyi: this is written from a curious gazes point of view!

i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. 

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

*video is mine (as in i took it so please credit if you use)*

-

Keep reading

Safety Net

safe word blurb. 13k words. i have an essay to write. should be done by the time this is posted though…if not, uhhhh i’m in deep shit.

Keep reading

COVER UP

A/N: if my boss asks, i did not spend my afternoon at work writing this filthy smut... but anyway, enjoy!!😏

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry gets a little too possessive when he sees your nipples peeking through your shirt.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry is trying to focus on the conversation he is currently in, but he keeps finding himself eyeing you from across the bar. You’re perched up on a stool at the bar, talking to a friend from your group and Harry can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re glowing, a bright smile stretched across your face, your skin looks soft and he knows you smell amazing, because you had a shower before the two of you left the house a few hours ago and he could smell your favorite body wash lingering around you as you got dressed. 

 The skirt you’re wearing is daring some flesh, slipping up on your delicious looking thighs and his lips tingle from the urge to kiss them up until your pretty cunt that’s hidden from his sight right now.

He always finds himself so horny for you, no matter what you do. It doesn’t even have to be sexual, like when he got hard seeing you on the phone with your sister. He said it was because of how you were flipping your hair around, it looked hot so that’s why he demanded you to end the call and let him fuck you on the dining table. 

Tonight however he knows why he is so hot and bothered by you. Eyeing your chest he has noticed that your nipples are peeking through your shirt. He knows for a fact you’re wearing a cotton bra underneath, but it has no padding or wires, that’s why it’s your favorite.

“It’s comfortable, I barely even notice I’m wearing it,” you told him once when he watched you get dressed from the bed.

He understands how uncomfortable a regular bra could be, so he’s happy you found something you like, but now he is experiencing the downside of it. Without the padding your nipples are making an appearance and they are very much demanding attention.

At first he just had his regular dirty thoughts about them, fantasizing about sucking and biting them just the way you like it, but then it hit him in the head that if he is able to see them, so is everyone else. 

And he doesn’t like that thought at all. 

It’s Friday night, the bar is pretty packed and there are several males around to ogle at your breasts and see your hard nipples. He has spent the past thirty minutes trying to control his jealousy and possessiveness, but when he catches a guy actually staring at your body, he just snaps.

Excusing himself from the little group he heads over to you just when your conversation partner departs to the restroom. As he approaches you he places his hand to the counter next to you, his arm now just at the right level to cover your chest.

“Hey babe,” you smile up at him, oblivious to the fire that’s burning inside him.

“Can you cover up, please? Did you bring a jacket or something?” he clears his throat, looking around. 

“What? A jacket? I’m not cold,” you say, not quite sure why he is asking.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about that,” he grits through his teeth. “I’ll just get you a hoodie or something.”

“But I don’t need one, if anything, I feel hot,” you say, fanning yourself with your hands. The motion makes your breasts jiggle a tad bit and Harry is seeing red at this point. Grabbing your wrists he crosses your arms over your chest to cover you urgently. “Harry, what the–”

“Babe, just… don’t.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Your nipples are like bursting through your shirt,” he states and you look down, seeing them obviously making an appearance, but it doesn’t really phase you.

“And? Everyone has them.”

“But yours are like… way too obvious.”

“Too obvious?” you chuckle in disbelief. “No one said that about them, that’s for sure,” you huff, almost hurt at his comment. “I don’t think anyone cares about them, H.”

“I do,” he snaps. “I fucking do and… Okay, I admit, it’s making me fucking horny. There, is that what you wanted to hear?”

He stares down at you with such intensity, it makes you clench your thighs, because you see the raw passion and lust in them and you’re never immune to this version of Harry. The one that’s so obsessed with you, so possessive and animalistic, that the rest of the world just stops existing and it’s just you and him. 

“My nipples are making you hard, H? Is that what’s happening?” you ask in a low tone and leaning closer you press a kiss underneath his jawline, feeling the vibrance of the grunt that bubbles from his throat at the touch of your lips.

“Yes. And I don’t want anyone else to have the same thoughts.”

“You can’t control thoughts, Harry. But you know you’re the only one who gets to actually touch them, play with them… suck on them…” You trail your hands up his hard chest until they reach the back of his neck and head, your fingers lacing through his chocolate curls.

“Another word, Y/N, and I’m gonna throw you over this bar and fuck your tits first, then your tight little cunt. Don’t play with me,” he warns, but it makes you anything but scared. Your underwear is already drenched, pussy throbbing at the thoughts he just planted into your head. 

Smiling to yourself you brush your lips against his and blink at him bashfully.

“I’m not opposed to leaving early,” you let him know. 

“Ten minutes. Make your rounds saying goodbye, I’m calling a car.”

It’s obvious for everyone why you’re leaving, mostly from the way Harry uses you to cover his bulge as he waves around the group in a rush, like his pants are on fire. The ride back home is like torture, especially because you’re teasing him, working him up even more, your hand moving further up his thigh as you get closer to your home and you even brush it over his bulge, to which he answers with a grunt, his own fingers digging into your hip as a warning, but you love playing with fire.

He is practically sprinting up to the front door, pulling you after him and once the door is shut closed, he pushes you against it, the bulge you’ve been eyeing now pressing into your thigh. 

“I can tell you really enjoyed teasing me tonight,” he growls into your ear, his hands making their way to your breasts quite fast. He kneads them, squeezes them hard and then takes your niples between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do now, listen carefully,” he says, his fingers tugging on your nipples and you’re already whimpering like a baby from the stimulation. “I’m gonna suck on your nipples so hard, you’ll beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck you and cover them in cum. And you’re gonna love every moment of it, do you understand?”

You hear his words, you understand them, but you can’t form an answer because he is still pinching your nipples and he is buckling his hips too, rubbing his clothed cock against you, burning every coherent thought you might have. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. I’m expecting an answer,” he pushes his hips even tighter against you, his teeth grazing the line of your jaw. “Do you understand, Y/N?”

“I do! Yes! Please!” you gasp, wiggling underneath him, eager to take it further already.

“Good.”

He steps back, his pupils so dark, you can’t even see the sweet green of his irises. His gaze travels down and up your body with such hunger, you can feel it stroking your heated skin. 

“Now take your clothes off,” he orders and you obey without a second thought. 

You rip off your shirt and skirt, throwing them to the side before unhooking your bra, that was originally the source of this whole situation. It ends up on the floor too and then you slip out of your panties, leaving you fully naked.

“Look at you,” he hums, taking his sweet time eyeing you up now that nothing is covering the body he’s been fantasizing about all evening. “Are you wet already, baby? See it for me, swipe two fingers over yourself and let me see how wet you are.”

WIth a shaky breath you reach between your legs and gather your arousal with two of your fingers and then hold them up, showing him how they are covered in your juices. Harry steps closer and wraps his hand around your wrist, brings your hand closer to his face and you’re holding your breath, aching to feel the warmth of his mouth around your digits as he sucks them off, but just when he is about to wrap his lips around them, he changes his mind.

He guides your hand to your right breast and smears your wetness over your nipple before doing the same with the other one, then he quickly sucks your fingers clean and then he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it so hard, you can’t hold your moans back. 

He pushes your breasts up to give himself better access, sucking and licking on it with no mercy and then you feel him bite onto the bud, a sharb, but exciting pain shooting through your chest and he looks at you as he tugs on it before letting it go, admiring how your skin is glistening with his saliva.

“You love that? Love the pain, baby?” he murmurs, brushing his nose against the side of your neck as you’re trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah,” you hum.

He kisses the soft skin under your jaw before he turns his attention to your other nipple, assaulting it the same way, biting, tugging and sucking relentlessly, his name falling from your lips over and over again, your back arching to push closer to him while you grab his hair and pull on the locks whenever the pain intensifies. 

You’re seeing stars and he hasn’t even touched your pussy yet.

He doesn’t stop, keeps switching between your nipples, pinching the one that’s not covered by his mouth with his fingers and he keeps his word. You can feel your nipples getting swollen, bruised and incredibly sensitive, but even when you start whining and pulling back out of instinct, he just wraps his arms around you and brings you back, locking you in his hold.

“Harry! Please!” you choke out, your eyes tearing up.

“Please what, baby?” he mumbles against your breast.

“No more!” you beg, your head falling back and bumping against the front door, since you still haven’t moved from the exact same spot. 

“You want me to stop, baby? Hmm?”

“Yes!” you nod, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

It’s not that it has reached a physical pain you can’t take, you’re not bleeding, he did no harm to you, but you just want him to fuck you at this point so badly, that everything feels a hundred times more intense and you can’t control your emotions.

“Okay baby,” he hums and kisses your tears off your cheeks before pressing his lips against yours. You can taste your tasty tears on his tongue and you gladly let it explore your mouth, your sensitive nipples pressing against his hard chest as he cradles you in his arms, grabbing the back of your thighs to lift you up and carry you into the living room. He is still dressed while you melt against him fully naked, the fabric of his clothes bothering you a lot more than usually.

“Off, please,” you tug on his shirt and after he carefully places you down to the couch, he undresses himself too. His shirt comes off first, then the pants and at last, his underwear, his cock finally springing free from the restraints of his boxer briefs.

“What did I say, what comes after I’ve sucked on these beautiful npples?” he asks, brushing his fingers gently over your buds, his touch registering more intensely from his assault on them earlier.

“You said you’d fuck me and cover my nipples in your cum,” you recall his words and he smirks at you, pleased that you rememberred.

“That’s right, baby. Though you were a tease tonight, you’ve been such a good girl for me since we got home, so you can decide how you want me to fuck you.”

Normally, you love a good doggy, or maybe being on top and in charge, but tonight you want him close and you want to be able to kiss him, so you open your legs and reaching up you pull him on top of you, finding his mouth in a passionate kiss.

He settles between your thighs, his hips pressing against yours and therefore his erection is squished against your lower tummy, smearing some of his precum over your skin. He kisses down your neck and collarbones until he reaches your breasts, a devious smirk on his lips as he returns to your nipples. You bite your tongue and let him suck on them, knowing well he is trying to push you to your limit again and you want to be strong and take what he gives you. But your already soft skin is now so sore from all the impact it has gotten, it doesn’t take long until you're whimpering again.

“Harry!” you pull him up and force him to kiss your lips instead. 

“You had enough? Can’t take any more?” he asks between kisses, grinding his hips against yours, his cock slipping and sliding between your wet folds.

“Can’t, please!”

“You asked so nicely,” he hums in appreciation. He captures your lips again and reaching down between your bodies his finger finds your throbbing, needy clit and he starts teasing you, working you up even more even though you’re more than ready to take him already.

He keeps drawing circles on your clit and then starts moving his hips, his cock slipping back and forth between your folds, growing you more and more impatient with each passing stroke. Right when you’re about to lose the last bit of your patience, he grabs the base of his cock and lines him up with your hole before slamming into you fast and hard, giving you no time to adjust. Not that you’d have needed much, you’ve gotten so wet, your walls welcome him warm and tight, just how he loves it.

“I love your tight pussy, Y/N. It’s so perfect for me,” he grunts as he fucks into you, his hips slamming against yours in a fast rhythm. “But I didn’t like that others might have thought about fucking you tonight.” Jealousy is dripping from his words and you know already he is going to punish you for dismissing his request to cover up.

With the rough start, your orgasm is already building up nicely, so you grunt in disappointment when he pushes himself up from missionary, he stops his thrusts and sits on his knees, his cock slipping out from you as you remain lying on the couch in front of him, legs wide open, your chest heaving wildly.

“Harry, please!” you whine, trying to wiggle closer so you could feel him between your legs again, but he has other plans.

“So needy, huh? You don’t like it when you don’t have your ways,” he observes, but you don’t miss the smirk that’s curling the corners of his mouth upwards. “Don’t you think that’s how I felt when you didn’t cover up after I asked you?”

“That’s different!” you protest, your core throbbing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I asked you to cover up, you didn’t do it. Now you’re begging me to fuck you, but I’m denying it from you. Seems pretty similar to me,” he shrugs, playing with your nerves at this point, but you try your best to control yourself. “Look at this pretty cunt,” he hums and he pushes one hand against your thigh to keep you wide open while he moves his other hand to your pussy and runs his fingers up and then down in a slow, lazy manner. He is testing how long you can take the teasing, the soft touches when you need him to just fuck you already.

“Harry,” you whine, when he gently pushes one digit inside you, but it’s nowhere near enough, not after you’ve had his cock inside you. 

“What? Is it not what you need? Mm?”

“No!” you cry out.

“Should I return to sucking your nipples?” he grins wider at you, enjoying having you at his mercy.

“Please fuck me already!”

“But I want to have your tits in my mouth. Suck them when you cum on my cock.”

“I’ll be on top, just please! I need you inside me!” you beg, giving up every ounce of self control you’ve had.

“That’s my girl, always giving me what I want,” he nods, squeezing your hips before sitting back on the couch.

You’re fast to get up from your lying position and straddle his hips, ready to do pretty much anything at this point just to have his cock inside you. That pleased smirk that adorns his face is almost too annoying as you grab the base of his cock and ease down on it, finally filling you up, but you couldn’t care less about letting him have his ways with you when you also get what you want. It’s a win-win.

You feel his hands on your back as he brings you closer to his face so his mouth can return to your nipples that are starting to get numb at this point, all while you ride him happily, squeezing your walls around his dick, making him growl against your chest from the sensation. You roll and grind and bounce, do everything you can just to keep building your orgasm that’s so close, you can feel it in your tummy, you just need to fall over the edge.

“Harry! Please, I need…” you gasp out, unable to use full sentences, but Harry knows you and he knows what you need.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he lifts his head from your chest and locks you in his embrace so he can easily turn you over and get on top of you, like you wanted it in the beginning. You hug his waist with your legs as he pounds into you, fast and hard, you keep moving up on the couch from the force of his thrusts and this is exactly what you needed to finally reach your climax.

You come hard and loud, your moans fill the living room, you claw at his back, leaving red marks from his broad shoulders down to his waist. Harry holds his own orgasm back, letting you ride out your high to the fullest, just so then he can keep the last thing he told you he would do to you.

“Stay like this, baby,” he tells you, pulling out of you, his knees on either side of you as he moves a bit further up on your body. He wraps his hand around his glistening cock that’s aching for the relief you just got to experience. Harry pumps himself for a few more seconds and you want him to come just as hard as you did, so you reach up and massage his balls, hoping it would give him that one last push.

“Fuck! Ah!” he growls, his hot cum squirting onto your breasts, covering your sensitive nipples just like he promised. You stare up at him, watch as his chest rises and falls in a rapid rhythm, his softening cock in his hand while he admires your chest covered with his semen.

To put the cherry on top, you reach up and smear his cum even more over your nipples, playing with how slippery and sticky it is at the same time. Harry moves back so he is not weighing onto your abdomen, but his eyes remain locked on your movements. 

“Is this what you imagined?” you coo, licking your fingers clean.

“Absolutely,” he nods before kissing your lips shortly. 

“So am I forgiven?” you smile at him bashfully. Harry chuckles, nodding.

“Sorry, I got a bit too possessive.”

“It’s alright, I like it when you’re like this.”

“Mm, I bet,” he smirks. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

You shower together and Harry gets every chance to take care of you, he keeps kissing you wherever he can, telling you how much he loves you every possible chance he has. When you’re in bed, he walks over your vanity and grabs your lotion before joining you on the mattress.

“Are they sore?” he softly asks, brushing his thumb over one of your nipples, the roughness is now gone, he is more like concerned now.

“Kind of. But it’s alright,” you smile at him lazily. He squirts some lotion onto his fingers and then gently rubs it into the sensitive skin. When he’s done, he puts the lotion to the night stand and leaning closer he presses a kiss to your sternum before making himself comfortable and pulling you into his embrace. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

via