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Jealousy - Harry Styles One Shot

Request: Can you do number 5 with Harry styles? I love your writing so much btw!

#5 “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

It was meant to be a small summer get-together, but it looked like a few of your friends had brought a few of their friends and now it looked like there wasn’t going to be enough pasta salad and watermelon for the people you had originally invited.  Your eyes scanned the crammed backyard for a familiar head of dark hair and let out a slight sigh when he was nowhere to be found.  Looks like it was your job as co-host to try and find more chips, guacamole, or something that would be able to fill your guests’ stomachs because you’d already gotten several asks about when the “actual dinner” was being served.  A sassy, slightly bitter, part of you wanted to bite back and say since they’d shown up unexpectedly why don’t they show you the dinner, but you held your tongue.

Actual dinner.

You scoffed.  Clearly the buffet set up on the picnic table wasn’t enough for them, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.  Before somebody tried to eat the table itself, you begrudgingly headed to the back door and went through to the kitchen, pulling some leftovers from your dinner with Harry several nights ago and deciding that it would have to be good enough.  Perhaps you should call for takeout?  Before you could make up your mind a tall stranger appeared in the entranceway to your kitchen.  You would be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome.  He had light curly hair, skin tanned from the beach, and he gave you a stunning lopsided smile.

Okay.  He was very handsome.

“Can I help you?” you asked, irritation lacing your voice.

“Oh, sorry.  I’m Lawrence,” He stuck out his hand routinely, but it fell when he saw yours balancing trays of leftovers.  “I was just wondering ‘round…But I’d be more than happy to help you.”  He once more eyed the trays that seemed dangerously close to loasing their balance and tipping over at any moment.

“No, no it’s fine.  I’m perfectly capable,” you assured him adamantly.  As much as you would’ve liked to continue this conversation and figure out who he actually knew at this party you had to move quickly or else the plates were sure to topple.  You had shuffled past him and just nearly made it out when you heard the corner of the tray make a light scrape against the wall.

“Frickle frackle!”

Your heart nearly dropped as you let out a squeal, mirroring a circus act as you tried to salvage your balance and catch the food from the clutches of gravity.  Before the tray hit the ground, the stranger -what’s his face? Linguini? - caught it with one hand and steadied you with the other.  You let out a sigh of relief and looked up to the sky in silent thanks, and when your eyes met his there was a slight shimmer in them.  Your eyes fell to the small smirk resting on his face and you quickly stepped back, causing his arm to fall from your shoulder, but not before it lazily grazed your hand as it went.  He knew you were hosting this with your boyfriend, right?

“The door-wall thing comes out,” you stopped, caught your breath.  “It’s faulty construction, this house is built really weird,” you rambled off some lame excuse, but his smirk never faltered.

“I bet,” he said in between light laughter.

You shifted your feet in the ensuing silence and looked at the tray he’d saved that was still in his hands.  He didn’t offer to give it back to you and the loud chatter outside sounded like mere murmurs in here…

You sighed, and for a brief moment wondered where Harry was.  He was probably chatting up the guests.  Entertaining.  Doing the fun part of hosting.  Linguini broke your thoughts.  “Well, I mean, since I’m already holding the plate…”  His voice trailed off, leaving an unspoken question up to your decision.  You hesitated.  But then again, you were the clumsiest person you knew and if you had to order take out it would be ages until it arrived…

“Sure, thanks Larry,” you said.

“Lawrence,” he corrected.  But you had already turned your back and walked out the door.

With much more control than you previously demonstrated in the kitchen, you maneuvered through some guests, nodding and giving quick hello’s! and I’ll catch up with you in a sec! before you finally set the trays down on the table.  He was close on your trail and when a pair of tanned hands set down the remaining food, you looked up to see Lawrence already smiling.  He leaned back against the table, and crossed his arms, his whole vibe labeling him as “laidback” and “possible vegetarian.”  He looked at you with a mock ponderous expression.

“So who do you know here where they have you bussin’ the food all around?” he asked.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise and in a little bit of the “excuse-moi” fashion.  Granted, you weren’t famous so it wasn’t that surprising he didn’t recognize you as the Harry Style’s girlfriend, but at the same time…

This guy was at your house.  Your house.

Guess you could have some fun with this.

“I’m pretty close with the co-host,” you responded vaguely. “You?”

“Oh, my mate’s close with the host, Harry I think, and he was the one that extended the invitation.  I’ve never met him but he seems nice.”  His gaze swept around the yard and they narrowed. “You’d think it’d be a bigger place for such a famous guy.”

A little indignant flame arose in your chest at the insult to your patch of land, but you were concerned with the first part of his sentence.  “Wait-? Harry invited you?”

“Yeah, well, not directly, but he said it was an open invitation.”

“Oh.  Cool.” you said.  But the way your lips were pressed together in a thin line he could tell it was anything but.  Course that little bugger was to blame… He scratched his head in the awkward silence that followed.

“So…”

He clearly didn’t know how to respond to your suddenly tense demeanor and you felt a little guilty at how you were acting.  This guy wasn’t a jerk, actually he’d been acting the opposite.  “Sorry, I haven’t eaten yet.  You know what they say, you’re not you when you’re hungry!” you finally spoke.  You cringed at the cheesy Snicker’s reference, but no matter what embarrassing thing flew out of your mouth next, you vowed to be nice to this guy.  It wasn’t his fault your boyfriend decided to change the party plans without giving his girlfriend any prior notice.

It wasn’t his fault at all.

An easy smile bloomed on his face, and just like that all was forgotten.  “No worries.  Watermelon?”  He offered you a slice of the fruit and you shrugged, and, taking that as a yes, he held the watermelon out for you to bite.  You looked from his hand to his eyes, then back down, then up again.

Eh, what the hell.  Just as you took a bite, the red juice dribbled down your chin and landed on the top of the white dress Harry had bought for you last weekend.  “Nice one,” you muttered to yourself, looking at the red marks dotting your chest.  The whole thing was a little ridiculous and awkward and you both couldn’t help the laughter that followed.

“I got you,” he said, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the stain.  Your cheeks heated a little at the contact and it was a little too close to be comfortable.  A part of you wondered if Harry was seeing this right now and you darted your head in a hopeless attempt to try and find him, but to no avail.  Even if he was seeing this right now, he probably wouldn’t do anything about it.  You know, all the love and all.  It wasn’t very Harry to get jealous.  Perhaps protective, he’d always squeeze your hand or drape his arm around your shoulders when the paparazzi was flooding you both, but a truly jealous Harry?  You’d had yet to witness that and you wish you could.  You know you’ve certainly felt the green eyed monster rear its head at parties when he would be talking with a bunch of beautiful models…It almost made you feel pouty in a way.  Even more jealous.  You wanted him to want all of your attention, you wanted him to be consumed by you.  Yet here you were with a handsome beach Baywatch lifeguard man practically fondling your breasts (okay not fondling, perhaps…perhaps patting) and he was nowhere to be found.  Where was he??

“Better.  Think I may or may not have spread it though so maybe not.”  Lawrence removed his hand, but as it fell you got distracted by a scar along the base of it.

“What’s that from?” you blurted out.  “Sorry if it’s too personal you don’t have to answer that,” you quickly added.

“Ah this?  No it’s fine, I got it from a gnarly wipeout.  I was surfing down in Mexico with a couple college buddies of mine and I wiped out on a hidden reef.  Not pretty.  I actually got a scar running along my stomach too.” He grimaced at the memory, but your captivated eyes were wide.

“Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, lifting his t-shirt to reveal a long scar that ran up from his v-lines to his sternum.  It was almost white now, contrasting his golden skin that seemed to glow in the afternoon sun.

“Woah,” I whispered.

“206 stitches.” You could hear the pride in his smug tone, and your eyes didn’t miss the abs that looked like they were chiseled by God himself.  But there were no butterflies in your stomach, and it didn’t come as that much of a shock to you that you didn’t feel any sort of attraction.  Ever since you’d met Harry you didn’t feel anything towards other boys.  If you were being honest, it was annoying as much as it was scary.  Lawrence misinterpreted your lingering gaze and you realized you’d inched closer in your examination.

“Have any other stories?” You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and he just shook his head.

“Nah you don’t wanna know.”

“Okay well now I have to know.”

Something involving tequila, a left shoe, and a donkey had you absolutely losing it and your laugh could be heard from Africa the way you were cackling.  Lawrence’s eyes widened towards something behind you and you hardly had time to turn around to see who it was before you heard him.

“There y’are, been looking for ages.”  Harry came up behind you and snaked his arm around your waist, stealing a quick kiss to your temple before looking to Lawrence and sticking out his hand with a friendly smile.  You stiffened in his hold, still a little peeved that he’d invited so many extra people and, now that he was here, you realized you were a little upset that he’d been ignoring you for the majority of the afternoon.

“‘M Harry.  You enjoying yourself?” His deep voice was so close to your ear it sent a shiver down your spine, and you absolutely hated yourself for it.

“Yeah of course, and with great company.”  He shot you a little wink.  “Nice to meet you man,” Lawrence said.  The two shook hands, and Lawrence looked at Harry’s arm still holding you to his side and then to your face.  You saw the pieces slowly come together in his head until his eyes widened with recognition.  “So you’re Harry’s girl?  Y/N?”  He let out a laugh and ran his hands through his hair in disbelief.  “Well you didn’t tell me that.”

“She didn’t?” He said it lightly, but you felt his arm slacken and you knew Harry well enough to hear the slightest trace of hurt behind the question.

Good, you thought.

“He probably thought I was the caterer the way I was carrying the food around.  Actually, he was kind enough to help me,” you chirped.

You looked to Harry and hoped that sentence would plant a seed of guilt that would grow like a weed and strangle his stupidly beautiful strong neck.  But you were sorely disappointed when he just gave an appreciative nod.

“Thanks for helpin’ the lady mate, sorry I got caught up talkin’ to a few…” His voice dropped when you uncurled yourself from his grasp, but in a discreet enough way so Lawrence didn’t notice. “..people.” he continued.  He looked at you with furrowed brows then, a little confused at your detraction.  The first hint that you weren’t exactly peachy with him.

“Nah, it’s my pleasure man, she’s a cool girl.”  Lawrence smiled, but the glimmer you’d seen in it before had fled in the presence of Harry.

“Not as cool as Lawrence though.  Did you know he’s a surfer?  He has a gnarly scar,” you said.

“Gnarly?” Harry asked, tasting the word on his tongue.  You could tell he didn’t like it the way his eyes squinted just the slightest and the small frown that was forming on his face.  He’d never heard you use the word before and suddenly you were saying it after one conversation with a handsome stranger.

“Show him,” you said enthusiastically.  Lawrence looked to Harry and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say why not.  When he effortlessly lifted up his shirt, Harry fell absolutely silent beside you.

“Oh…s’cool.”  But the way his lips were pressed in a tight line just as yours had been earlier, you knew it wasn’t.  His wheels were turning and he didn’t need to look long before he was starting to question how long he’d shown you his scar.  But, as always, Harry was effortlessly charming.  “Alright, alright, there’s children here!” he protested, completely joking.   You practically snorted at Harry’s not so nonchalant reference to his abs and Lawrence put his shirt down with a smile.

“You know…I’ve always wanted to surf, but I never knew how.  It’s honestly so amazing how y’all can just commit to the ocean like that.  As much as it’s alluring it’s pretty terrifying too, and I bet it takes a lot of practice.  I mean, Harry doesn’t have much balance so we’d probably crash into each other if we tried,” you admitted.

Lawrence just laughed and shook his head. “No it’s true! I’m actually the clumsiest,” you admitted.

“Well we never tried s’you can’t know that….for sure,” Harry mumbled.  His arms were now crossed and he was looking at you intensely, hurt-speckled green eyes trying to break the wall you’d built up around your own.  What’re you doing? They seemed to ask.

“I definitely got the whole clumsy thing in the kitchen earlier,” Lawrence grinned.  You put your hands up to your face to try and cover your blush, mumbling an ohmygosh, and as much as Harry tried to hide it, he couldn’t help the way his shoulders stiffened to your reaction, to your blush.  He was the only one allowed to do that, and he didn’t like the intimate suggestion behind Lawrence’s words.

“I don’t know if you’d be up for it, but I can teach you sometime.  I give lessons to kids on the weekends when I’m off work, usually they’re younger, but I think I can make an exception for the party hosts.”

His smile was everything genuine and well-intending, completely oblivious to Harry’s harsh gaze on you as he waited for your reply.  But the smile would’ve been off his face and he’d be out the door in a second if he could only hear the thoughts clouding Harry’s mind.

“Actually yes!  I don’t think I have any plans-”

“We’re going to visit family actually.  Aren’t we love?” Harry butted in, expecting you to follow.  But as far as you knew there were definitely no plans.  You distinctly remember asking Harry if he wanted to go out and see a movie this weekend and he had told you he wanted to stay in (“s’going to be a stressful week Y/N, ‘n I’ll feel like a cuddle instead. Can’t have a proper cuddle when we’re out, can I love?”).

Interesting.

“No, I don’t recall-”

“We’ll s’you later man, enjoy the party,” Harry briskly nodded to Lawrence and suddenly grabbed your arm, not giving you any time to finish your sentence or offer an exclamation as to why his hand was dragging you away.   His grasp was firm and almost painful, but he gave you enough time to keep up.  But just barely.

“Harry, what are you doing,” you hissed, avoiding the awkward stares as you two stormed through your backyard.  Lawrence was right, it was pretty tiny, and currently half-filled with people you didn’t know, which made Harry’s tantrum all the more painfully obvious.  “Harry, stop, everyone’s looking!”  You whispered harshly.  You squeaked when he squeezed his hands tighter around your forearm.

“I know,” he growled.  

He hadn’t missed the men who’d eyed you up and down throughout the party, and his blood was boiling the way they were eying you now.  They kept staring even when he was right beside you.  Jesus did they ever fucking stop?

Harry dragged you to the side yard, out of sight from nosy party guests, and once he had you cornered along the tall wooden fence, he released you.  His eyes were stormy, and the frown set in his face was completely out of character.

“Harry what the hell?” As much as you were shocked by his sudden reaction, you were thrilled.  And it was hard to conceal the elation in your voice.  Harry was distracted though and his eyes darted to your hand that was gently massaging the forearm he’d just released.  His eyebrows pinched together and he winced.

“‘M sorry…did I-did I hurt you?”  His voice was strained, and for once you felt speechless.

“No,” you managed to breathe.

He groaned and rested his head petulantly against yours.  “Harry, what’s wrong?” you asked softly.  His hands grasped your waist and squeezed, your back arching as he pulled you closer.

“You know what’s wrong,” he finally grumbled, nudging his nose against your temple.

“No Harry, I don’t,” you claimed.  You were enjoying his sudden neediness, and when you felt him nuzzle into the side of your neck and breathe you in, your heart swelled with affection.  “Tell me what’s wrong baby.  I need to hear you say it,” you coaxed.

You yelped when he bit down on the sensitive spot just below your jaw. “Y/N,” he said your name like a prayer. But it wasn’t an answer.

“Harry,” you finally snapped.  How hard was it for a man to just admit his feelings?

“Don’t be mad at me love, I jus’ want you, s’that s’bad?” he soothed you, wrapping his arms completely around your back.

“It is when you won’t t-tell me, harry,” you moaned at the open-mouthed kisses he was placing down your neck, his arms restricting you and keeping your centers close.  Your lips parted as you felt his hot, soft, yet firm tongue lick against the mark he’d created only moments before and you whimpered in his hold.  You had come so close, had finally seen a jealous side to Harry, and now he was blowing it off like it never happened.

“No.” You shoved him off of you, and his eyes burned at the rejection.  They were darker now, clouded with lust and traces of anger, and you took a deep breath to hold your ground.

“D’you not want me anymore?” he scoffed.  If you hadn’t detected sincerity you would’ve thought he meant it in a mocking way.  You felt a little guilty for pushing him, but this was his fault to begin with.

“You dragged me over here for a reason.  And it wasn’t…it better not be just because you’re horny,” you said breathlessly.  His jaw clicked at the truth you were hinting at, but he remained silent, just in time for a random stranger from the party to turn the corner.

“Oh, sorry.” The man took one look at us, saw DANGER DANGER WRONG WAY in the daggers Harry threw at him and quickly exited back the way he came.  A little tension dissipated from the stranger’s interruption and Harry let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Nothin’ ‘m just bein’ stupid s’all,” he mumbled.  You raised an eyebrow at him, and he groaned. “You’re relentless woman……don’t make m’say it,” he added quietly.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

His eyes snapped to yours at the word, and he looked at you.  At your frustrated eyes that he couldn’t help thinking were adorable, at your soft lips set in a pout, at your brows causing wrinkles he was itching to erase.  At what was his.  

And like a horrid alcohol that stayed on his tongue, he was reminded of the men who had been looking at you all afternoon, of the man who had made you blush like that.  Of the man who had made you laugh like that.  

“Yes,” he admitted lowly.  And the way Harry was looking at you now…

Suddenly you were hyper-aware of the small bead of sweat that dripped down your back under the blazing heat of the sun and you were surprised the heat of his gaze wasn’t the end of you, that you didn’t self-combust to a pile of ashes right then and there.  

“Finally!” you replied, throwing up your arms in what you could only describe as triumphant.

He stilled at your reaction and a shadow passed over his face.  “What?” he scoffed, his breathless voice filled with confusion.  

“Finally,” you repeated.  Your lips slowly spread into a smirk and Harry eyed it in disdain.

“What do you mean finally?” he commanded, suddenly defensive.  

“The calm cool and collected Harry is finally jealous over his girlfriend.” But as soon as you said it and Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise at your biting tone, he became silent.  And then you realized how petty it made you sound.  

“It’s just that you’ve never been jealous over me ‘n I was starting to think since I’m not famous or anything that I wasn’t worth…” the sentence died on your lips.  “That you’d never be jealous,” you continued softly.

A flicker of realization passed those emerald eyes, and you saw his lips part in stunned realization.  Harry usually prided himself in being in tune with people, especially you, but apparently this one had blindsided him.

“Okay well…” you couldn’t take standing in this silence any longer, the embarrassment causing your cheeks to burn, and you promptly tried to move away.  But as soon as you did, something snapped in Harry and he trapped you against the fence, an arm on either side of you.  He leant low, curls brushing against your cheek, and lips ghosting along your ear.

“‘M sorry love, I didn’t know.” He pressed a soothing kiss on your neck, just over your pulse point, and he felt your racing heart.

“Well now you do, and you know what?  It’s really nothing, I’m just being stupid so-”  your words mimicked the same ones he’d said earlier, and you tried to duck out of his hold, but his hand easily grabbed your hip and pulled you back against the fence while the other remained taught above your shoulder.  You weren’t going anywhere.

“I wasn’t finished,” he stated.  He stared at you with an intensity you weren’t sure you could handle right now, but each time you’d look away he’d gently coax you with a c’mon look at me angel, please love, until you just had to take that risk.  “You are everything to me.  And I definitely” -the hand holding your hip gave a calming squeeze- “get jealous of you.  All the time.  More than you can possibly imagine.  S’just that I never thought you’d like a jealous boyfriend, never wanted to be that guy that felt suffocating.  Do y’not think I want you?  S’that it?” His brows remained furrowed and his raspy voice was riddled with hurt.

“I-” your words seemed stuck in your dry throat and you cleared it out of habit rather than necessity before continuing, “It’s just that I see you with all these models Harry all the time and I know it’s just a part of who you are now, truly, but sometimes i just can’t help- I just can’t help that it kills me on the inside.  And it hurts to feel like you don’t feel the same way about me.  That you don’t care enough if other boys tried anything with me.  It’d feel good to feel like a prize sometimes instead of it always being the other way around.”  The last sentence slipped out before you had the chance to stop it and your eyes went wide when a sharp exhale flew from his lips.

“Oh.” It was his turn to clear his throat now, but when he opened his mouth he breathed the same word,

“Oh.”

“‘M sorry Ha-”

He interrupted your apology by pressing his lips to yours, this kiss wasn’t soft or gentle, but hard, hungry.  For the urgency of the kiss, Harry took it slow, the passion igniting sparks in your stomach when he grasped the back of your neck, forcing you into the rhythm he created.

“You’re the last person who should be apologizing Y/N,” he groaned when he pulled away, immediately pressing kisses along your jawline.  You gasped when you felt his hand slip under your dress, and you felt him smirk when you pressed your thighs together.  

“Harry, the guests,” you squeaked as you felt a long finger snap the elastic of your underwear.  Harry quieted your protests with a hot kiss and you felt another smirk form when he cupped your clothed sex.

“You really do like it when I’m jealous don’t you?” he mused.  Your cheeks were burning furiously, knowing he’d felt the damp patch that had been bothering you for a while, and he raised his eyebrows cheekily.  “‘S kinda hot innit,” he teased.

“Harry,” you whined, struggling to release yourself from his hold.

“Shh, there, there pet, I’ve gotta show my girl how much I care don’t I?”

And when he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, locking the door behind him, he made sure you remembered just how much of a prize you really were.

request an imagine/one shot/au here :)

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I tried something new with third person so let me know if you liked it! xx

Ok a concept since it is the anniversary of met Gala harry today and mg harry is also popular he will be called to met Gala so he is dressed up and bambi reaction to his outfit and she says she wants to fuck him but he says something along the lines of later baby don't want the scratches to show through the net.

OMG BITCH YESSSSS

.

“Is that why you won’t let me go with you?” 

From the corner of his eyes, he could see her kneeling on their bed, pouting, but he knew she was far from innocent. She was practically naked and obviously enjoying how she got him in the palm of her hand.

“Oh please, you don’t even want to go.”

“I do now.”

She didn’t. She would rather shave her head than walk the red carpet with him. She had fun teasing him and it was working because he could feel himself getting hard. Thank God they didn’t put him in one of those tight suits.

He marched up to the bed and beckoned to her. She scooted toward the edge, smoothing her palms over the material of his outfit. He caught her hands before they reached his stomach. His gaze dropped to her breasts and he arched an eyebrow. “Put some clothes on, baby.”

“I have clothes on.” She grinned, plucking at her panties.

His fingers tightened on her hips as he tossed his head back, shut his eyes and groaned. “Not gonna fuck you. Not gonna fuck you. Not gonna fuck you.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I will spare you this once.” She tapped her hands on his shoulders like a friend to a friend, but it only made him want to fuck her more.

He gathered all the self-control he could get to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. If he kissed her lips, he’d have to pin her down. He wanted to say “fuck the Met” and go for it, but Jeff would kill him, and then her.

“If there are videos or photos of me walking the red carpet with an erection, you’ll have to pay for it,” he said.

Her lips quirked. “Have fun. I’ll be at home waiting for those videos and photos.”

Tales From the Modern Incubus Part 12*

Summary: You’re still hiding in 1986 with Harry and you learn some important information about your real parents and their intentions for you. But Michael, Lilith, Hannah, and Asmodeus are having issues finding you, which could complicate their plan.

A/N: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing.

Warning: Smut, demons and angels plotting, mentions of blood, mention of torture, mentions of spells and incantations, religious themes

Characters List

Part 11*

Part 12*

Angels and demons have a lot more in common than most people realize (some probably don’t know that they are alike at all). People who practice or put their values in the Abrahamic faiths would assume that angels are good and demons are bad. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, all original and high demons were once angels. Angels are fallible and just as predisposed to sin and immorality as demons and humans are. In fact many demons who walk the realms are half human and half demon. They didn’t choose their fate, nor did they do anything to be born of a demon, but once they are born, they are automatically a demon by blood with no say to the contrary. The stain of their parent is on them forever and therefore they are painted ‘bad’ by human standards and that is perpetuated by people who read and believe the Bible, which The Almighty does nothing to correct. By contrast, many angels who walk the realms are also only half angel. But, because of their blood, they are given the mark of good by humanity without further thought to whether they’re actually good or bad (which would be determined by their actions and not their bloodline – but humans are naturally quite prejudiced so it’s easier to just say an angel is good and a demon is bad).

Angels and demons are also alike in that they are physically superior to humans in every way. Not only are they more beautiful and alluring (despite what may have been said about how ugly and scary demons are – yet another lie The Almighty does nothing to stop), but they are also extremely strong and can outperform any elite athlete. Their stamina is incredible, and they can be unstoppable under the right circumstances, especially because they also don’t need to sleep. Resting is good, but sleep is never necessary. The original angels created were meant to be helpers and workers for The Almighty. He wanted his workers to be strong and never tire of their job.

They are also extremely intelligent with highly developed cerebral cortexes and the ability to retain and learn faster and more efficiently than humans. This was useful to The Almighty as well. A perceptive and sharp worker is ideal for any type of job, especially when dealing with humans.

And, of course, with all of that in mind, both angels and demons rarely tire of sex. Physically, they can keep going until they’ve had their fill. Angels and demons have a greater appetite for sex than humans do and they do it better as well. Humans enjoy sex too, a lot. It drives much of the way they think and do things. But it can’t be compared to the way angels and demons get around from one being to another. They’re all beautiful whores.

So, to say that you and Harry had a long night together the first time you had sex, well, that’s an understatement. You lost your virginity with the biggest bang ever. You and Harry went on for nearly twelve hours. There were a couple of breaks where you talked and went to the bathroom and rehydrated, but there weren’t clothes involved and you were both sticky and smelly by the time Aim contacted you two.

Harry was just about to come again and you were wobbly and out of your mind from your last orgasm. You were holding onto the couch, bent over as Harry was hammering himself inside of you. He’d also introduced a thumb into your bum to prep you for his cock so you were both working on that. It was something he told you that you’d like and of course, the way his digit felt inside of you as you peaked and clenched over his cock you knew he was right. He’d really used your cunt for hours (just as you’d used his cock) and so when he suggested trying anal and sunk his thumb in while he was mid-fuck, you saw stars and Jesus and you cried out in praise of Harry’s name when you creamed on him.

The phone rang and you both looked over at the ancient, corded device on the wall as it trilled loudly and shook itself in the receiver. Harry looked down to where he was stuffed inside of you and closed his eyes.

“Fuck!” Harry growled and pulled himself out of you. His cock was hard and he had to hold himself as he walked across the room to answer the phone. You collapsed your body onto the couch and closed your eyes for a moment.

“’Lo?” Harry stood at the wall and looked over at you, hips draped over the arm of the couch, tummy down with your face in the cushion, your naked ass pink and bruised and his, he smiled.

Aim’s voice sounded far away through the speaker, “Harry, I can’t stay on long. We’ve found out some interesting things and I’ll be coming to tell you about it in person. You two are safe there for now so you’ll stay where you are for the time being. Expect to see me in five hours.” And then the call ended.

Harry felt relief that you were both safe. He returned to you on the couch, still holding his cock in hand and you twisted to look up at him, your hair a mess.

“Aim said we’re safe for now. He’ll be here in about five hours to give us some information. You okay?” Harry leaned over your back and smoothed his palms over your bottom where he’d bitten you, spanked you, pinched you…

You smiled widely and turned over, exposing your breasts and tummy and the bit of hair between your legs that was coated in come (both yours and his). You had little marks all over your body. Harry was a bit rough but you were a hybrid and you could handle it and you turned out to be just as rough as he was. You put a hand up to Harry’s clavicle and scraped your nail over the scratches you’d left on him. His cock was red hot and throbbing still.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my whole life. Gonna get that back inside of me? Finish yourself off? I know you were so close.” You gestured toward his thick erection as you spread your legs for him. Harry groaned and squeezed your tits as he buried himself back into your pretty pussy. Every time he plunged into you it never failed to make him gasp in shock. Your cunt was made for him (or maybe his cock was made for you?) and he had no idea how he’d gone his whole life without this feeling.

“Fuck, Harry. You feel so good inside of me. Give me your come… Mmm… yeah… fuck it like that. Come on… want it to fill me up. Shit…” you had no shame with your words during sex. You caught on quick to what Harry liked. Lots of praise, lots of encouragement, plenty of dirty words and orgasms… you were better than anyone Harry had been with, and he’d been with countless people. You were still learning but he was obsessed with how eager you were and he couldn’t love you more than he did. You were perfect.

Harry was nearly snarling, his muscles working his thighs to rail into you. You kept speaking, “Love that big cock, Harry. I love you. Fuck… you’re really deep like that. Need your come, Harry…” and you did want his come. It was like somehow it gave you life and made you feel like one. The more he poured into you, the closer you felt to him. It was like he was leaving traces of himself inside of you and you wanted more.

He grunted and moaned loudly when he released inside of you for the, well, you both had lost count of how many times, but it was a lot. He came inside of you and on you all night and into the morning. It’s why you were so sticky. You had dried come on your legs, your tummy, your hair, your tits… And Harry was just as dirty as you were. You’d smeared yourself all over him (at his request at first) so he could smell like you all night. His arm hair was matted to his flesh with your dried arousal, his knees and thighs the same. He had your juice dried all over his neck, ears, and his hands… You two were probably due for a shower.

Harry collapsed over you and sighed, “I love you. Fuck…” he breathed hard and kept himself inside of you. He’d been quite liberal with the use of the ‘L’ word. He’d found someone that could handle him. He’d had sex with other demons before, but never someone he had feelings for so this was different. He’d had round after round of sex with the same being many times, but not like this. He could keep going and going and so could you.

You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and brought his hand up to your mouth to kiss. It smelled like you and you laughed softly to yourself. You wrapped your legs around Harry’s waste and squeezed him closer to your body. Harry’s face was in your neck and he let out a muffled moan before pushing himself up to look down at you, his messy girl.

The black of your eyes had gone, as Harry’s had. Now his eyes were that beautiful soft and light flecked green that had you weak in the knees. He brought his hand, that you’d been kissing, over your lips and swiped his thumb at your tongue. You tasted yourself on him, it was the thumb he’d had inside your ass. You giggled as you kept your tongue out and he pushed it into your mouth as he smiled broadly at you.

“Suck.” He said as he watched your lips wrap around his thumb and you felt him still hard and long inside of you as he began to move his hips upward again. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head at how good it felt.

You were both incredibly wet between your legs so when Harry’s thrusts began to get a little harder it sounded like wet sex in the room. Slippery and drippy. You’d also learned you were a squirter. But, obviously you were. Harry’s big cock hit your g-spot, rubbed into it firmly once he was seated inside of you, and then he pushed into other things inside of you and if he angled himself just right and then pulled out you’d squirt all over the place. He'd done it to you the first time when you were riding him. You felt the pressure, something different than just the build of an orgasm, a really deep pressure and then he lifted you off his cock and you poured over his tummy and his dick and his groin, down to his balls. Then he did it again and put his face over your pussy so he could drink it and swallow it down. He didn’t want to waste any of your juices.

But now his large dick was stuffed nicely inside of you and he rolled into you hard. Your mouth went slack and you exposed your neck as your eyes went black again. Harry kept his thumb in your mouth and you went back to sucking on it after the initial moment of bliss. Harry was going in a brutal pace now and your pussy gripped his cock harshly. The way he massaged your walls as he spread you apart felt like love and everything good in the world. You smiled around his thumb as you felt him deep in your body. You felt him attach his mouth and bite into your neck as he sucked, bruising you up right away. He licked over your salty sweaty skin and bit down again, an inch lower, creating another small wound from his teeth that made you bleed just a little. He loved how your blood tasted. He wasn’t a vampire or anything like that, but he liked a little blood now and then. Especially yours.

When he moved his lips to the other side of your neck and bit down on a recent mark you came. The pain zipped down your neck and over your breasts, giving you goosebumps as your orgasm fell over you. You also learned you enjoyed a little pain. Actually, you really enjoyed a little pain. Harry found that it made you come really fast, not that he wanted to rush sex with you but he was amazed by how you responded to it.

Harry cried out when you bit down on his thumb and scratched his back, ripping the flesh under your nails and he spilled inside of you. This was a quick round. Many of them were. There were some rounds that went on for a lot longer where you both took your time and switched positions (Harry showed you all kinds of way you could be fucked).

You both panted and Harry removed his thumb and kissed your mouth. Could you call this romantic? It felt like the most romantic night (and morning) you’d ever get in your life. You used to imagine romance as a sweet date night out somewhere and then a kiss at the end of the night, and if you were married a nice love-making session, maybe a bath and flowers. But this? A sweaty, dirty, painful, all-nighter filled with orgasms and bruises and come… This was your ideal now. Nothing else would do. Your body was spent but every single time your lips met and your gazes locked you were ready to go again. Harry too. Your libidos were matched perfectly. Even though Harry was half-human, half-demon, his demon-type was incubus, which made his libido higher than most demons or angels. And for you, your father was Asmodeus, the demon of lust and debauchery. You were your father’s daughter by blood and so you and Harry had that in common with one another. Already libidinous, both of you being supernatural, but your specific demon types made your thirst for the carnal something very intense.

After a necessary shower and you both had been cleaned and finally ate something, Aim arrived to give you the news in person. He couldn’t tell you on the phone line because a call from the year 2022 to 1986 used very specific rituals that altered existence and time, which could be uncovered by high demons and angels. The shorter the call the better.

You all sat in the living room together. Aim was dressed sharp again, a suit and tie, expensive shoes, and a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist.

“You two have enjoyed 1986 I gather?” He sniffed the air and shook his head as he breathed out a laugh. The smell of sex would linger for some time. You two had sex on nearly every surface in every room.

“Yes. Not that we’ve gotten out much.” Harry laughed at his obvious inuendo, “What do you have, Aim?” You tried not to feel embarrassed about it, all the sex Aim knew you’d had and the way it smelled, it had been quite apparent. But you knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Those feelings were remnants of your earthly upbringing, slowly fading away. You were taught that sex was shameful and something to be hidden and never talked about. But now you were realizing that sex wasn’t shameful. It was beautiful and it’s what made the world go round. Without sex, there would be no life.

“Tamie has given them your name, Harry. She had to. Or she would be facing the same fate you might be if they find you. That means you are being hunted, which we figured was going to happen anyway. However, they did release her, not without some severe consequences to her holding off as long as she could. She likely saved your life by buying you time. She endured some serious torture at the hands of your real mother.” Aim shook his head and sighed.

“What? My mother? Isn’t she an angel?” You asked.

Aim lifted his brows toward you and nodded, “Yes. She is a high angel. But there’s something you’ll learn very soon, and that is that all angels and demons are capable of hurting and helping just the same. Not one is worse than the other. I’m surprised she let Tamie go, to be quite honest.”

You looked up a Harry who had sat next to you on the ugly brown sofa with a cream and orange flower pattern fabric covering it. You would need to protect him. Whatever it took. If someone hurt Harry…

“So, here’s what Tamie has told us… Your real parents wanted to create a powerful hybrid being who would know humanity well. Grow up among humans, learn with the humans, and feel like a human. Then, at the age of 25, Y/n, you were meant to meet the son of Michael and Lilith. Another very powerful hybrid. He’s still on earth and as far as we know, unaware of his power, just like you were until Harry came around. Which means you’ve got a bit of a head start. Michael and Lilith’s son is named Adam. He’s meant to be your mate. You two would then procreate and the most perfect and powerful being would then come to be and this being would be more powerful than even The Almighty himself. Or at least that’s what the idea was. Your supposed son or daughter would then be their ticket to overthrow all the kingdoms and take over power of all the realms. I believe that is their purpose in this.

“I don’t know how they intended to go about having you and Adam meet one day, but I’m sure they had a specific plan in place. Tamie didn’t get all the details but, we did learn that the four of them are now on watch for you both. And anyone associated with you. So far, they haven’t approached anyone. They’re working the ground and gathering information. I’ve already been aware of the presence of Lilith and your real father on me. They are aware that Tamie has given us information. I don’t know why they haven’t just come and taken me or cornered me and questioned me on your whereabouts, but something tells me things are about to get a lot more intense and soon. I may consider hiding as well because I’m not sure I’m safe. I don’t think anyone is.”

Harry is silent. The look on his face says he’s deep in thought and you can feel the bit of worry coming from him. He’s worried about you and about himself. But now he’s also thinking about this Adam who is your intended mate. He can’t compete with a full hybrid, half high angel, half high demon, when he himself is only half demon and half human. He’s not going to be able to defend you, to save you, to keep you safe… and if you should choose to be with someone more powerful, well, Harry could easily be replaced. And he wouldn’t blame you. If he’s very honest, you deserve to be with someone more powerful than he is. Adam would probably be better for you. Sure, Harry is handsome, smart, great at conversation, funny, charming, and has a big dick, but he can’t compete with the kind of power that Adam would have. And, if you were to choose Adam and you decided to reproduce with him, you’d have the most powerful heir to exist and could potentially make history by leading the revolution to overthrow The Almighty. Choosing Harry and having his heir would create a somewhat-powerful being (less powerful than you because it would be mixed with incubus and human), but nothing like what you could with Adam. Not a very exciting historical moment in comparison. But he’s trying to stay focused and confident because even if he can’t compete, he won’t be going down without a fight. He’d do anything for you.

You take Harry’s hand and look at him, wanting to get his attention but he keeps his eyes forward on Aim. You know he’s a little upset. You sort of wish he wasn’t so sensitive but you’ll to reassure him again if necessary. When you look at his profile and smell his natural scent, he’s all you can think of and he’s the only one you want. You can’t imagine ever wanting someone the way you want him. You also don’t like the idea that you’d be pre-arranged to meet someone and have his child. You didn’t desire that kind of relationship, nor the power that seemed to come with it. You were going to make your own path and you were bringing Harry with you through it.

“So what now? Do we stay here? Should we move somewhere else? We can’t keep hiding forever.” Harry spoke and you could feel his heart pounding. For some reason you felt much calmer than he did. His reaction to this news was more of a concern to you than the actual news.

“Stay here for now. I have something else in the works for where you will go next. You may just keep hiding and jumping from year to year to keep safe for a while. But, Y/n… we will need to have you begin using your intuition and power for this. I may not be able to contact you at some point and you’ll have to be in-tune in order to protect yourself. You have the ability but it might be something you need to practice a little. Harry, you’re safe with her, for now. She can protect you better than I can.”

Aim left and the world felt quiet again, but Harry was trying not to spiral in his thoughts. He stood up and walked toward the window to look out. He didn’t want to lose you to someone else and he was worried what this meant for him. He’d gone after the wrong girl and now his life is in danger. Wrong girl or not, though, he wouldn’t be deterred too easily. He felt like he was already beginning to bond to you. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d never bonded with anyone before. A bond between two beings is far more severe than just love. Love isn’t final. It isn’t forever. People fall in and out of love just like angels and demons do. A bond is eternal. It’s unbreakable.

“I’m worried. I’ve never been in this kind of situation and not having control of the outcome feels suffocating. And Adam… if he sees you and feels your presence he’s going to want you and I can’t compete with that.”

You followed Harry to where he stood with his back to you and pushed your arms around him, kissing the wide plane of his back between his shoulder blades.

“Why are you worried about that? Do you not trust me?” You spoke as you turned your head, cheek to his back, so your words could come out clearly.

Harry turned to you and he put his hands up to your face, he had vertical frown lines between his eyes at the top bridge of his nose, “I trust you. I just don’t know that you’ll choose me over him. In the end. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You laughed softly and smiled at him, “Well, you’re going to just have to accept how I feel then, aren’t you? You kind of sound like you’re just giving up, assuming I’ll leave you for someone I’ve never even met. Maybe I’m just not worth the trouble to you now that you know I’m dangerous to be with. Perhaps dodging out now is best for you so you’re trying to make it look like it’s me who would choose someone other than you.”

You were bating him. You knew that wasn’t his intention but you figured turning it around on him could make him see things differently. It did. His grin and the dimple that appeared before he lowered his face to kiss your lips was all you needed to know. You wanted to see that man who was confident and captivating. His natural swagger and charm were attractive and that’s how you wanted to see him. You were glad he could voice his insecurities and be honest with you, but he didn’t need to feel insecure.

“Fuck that,” he spoke against your lips, “I’m not letting you go that easy. Just feeling like I couldn’t compete. You can choose who you want and I’ll do anything I can to make you want me over anyone else.” Harry stood up straight and looked over your head and then out the window, “Wanna get outta here for a little bit? See what’s in the area?”

Lilith had been following Aim. She knew he’d gone somewhere and used a specific incantation ritual that meant he’d time traveled. She couldn’t know where he went without cornering him and making him talk but she didn’t want to notify too many people of the problem. Kidnapping Aim or making him talk would be big news. Aim was a legion leader, not the most powerful of the Dukes of Hell, but an important leader and there would be upset demons. It would upset Lucifer. Satan wouldn’t care, and God couldn’t give two shits, but Lucifer was someone they had to deal with daily and it just wasn’t worth it to get him riled up. They needed to keep this quiet.

Especially because Hannah had already kidnapped a watcher and now that watcher was talking. Tamie was a loose thread, a threat to their plan. She should have been done away with. Having a missing watcher was easier than having one that was tortured and now spilling details. Lilith was annoyed at Hannah. Sure, it was a bad idea to kill a watcher or any being because it would draw attention, but it could be done without anyone being aware of it. At least not until things started to be put into motion.

Because Hannah let Tamie go, along with you aware of what was going on (before you should be aware of it) they were going to have to begin the phases of getting Adam ready. Michael wasn’t worried about Harry. A simple half incubus, he would not be a threat in the end. There was no way you’d not want Adam after seeing him and realizing his strength and power. Harry was attractive of course, as all incubi were, but Adam was something else altogether. He was quite the specimen and he’d be far more fit for you than Harry. You’d see it soon enough, or so they hoped. And if not, well, Harry would be dealt with and you’d never see nor hear from him again as soon as they got their hands on him anyway.

Which was another problem, they didn’t know where you and the incubus were. Lilith reported to Asmodeus that you were likely in another time period, being hidden away. With Harry. And if you bonded with Harry (what a tragic mistake that would be) it would be that much more difficult to get you to side with them. This entire thing was turning into a disaster and it was all because you were sniffed out by a horny incubus who became obsessed with you.

Hannah followed your earth parents but found that they also didn’t know where you were. In fact, Enzo and Gwyn had started asking around to find out if anyone knew of your whereabouts. They were astonished to find that even Amanda, your best friend, didn’t know where you were. And you hadn’t been answering your calls or texts. They immediately began suspecting Harry. He was a mystery to them, someone they didn’t know and hadn’t had a chance to really talk to. They wondered if he’d done something to you.

It had only been about a day and half that you’d been missing at this point so they thought maybe you’d still show up. But they were worried and none of your friends seemed to know where you were. Which told Hannah that you’d gone into hiding. Harry’s house was empty, and they kept their own watchers on the lookout there as well as at your parent’s house.

Michael had begun to get Adam ready. The first step in the process was to slowly allow the reveal of his powers. Like you, Adam had always had some extra receptive senses, which he’d grown used to all his life. But now the time had come to let him see a little more of what he could do. It was a bit too early for their plan, but now it was necessary.

Adam lived on the opposite coast of the United States to you. It was intentional that you both would meet at the age of 25, not before, at a job you’d both take at that time. You two would naturally be drawn to one another, both being hybrids with supernatural abilities, you’d both slowly come into your powers and learn about yourselves together and you’d bond over it. It would create a closeness and you’d both be inseparable. That was the plan anyway. And it would have worked. Had Harry not come into the picture.

But there was nothing they could do about you at the moment. They’d find you soon enough and work on convincing you to fall into their plan. First, they’d need Adam on their side and then they’d get rid of Harry once they found him.

You and Harry quickly learned that the neighborhood you were in didn’t have much around. The grocery store was walking distance from the house, there was an Italian deli next to the school, a church behind the park, a nearby interstate with loud traffic, a flower shop, and a gas station.

You and Harry sat in the park and ate sandwiches you’d gotten from the deli and you noticed that you two were getting a few weird looks. You weren’t dressed in anything too trendy but your clothes and probably your hair made you stick out a bit. The 80s style and the fit of the clothes were different than what you’d both been sporting.

“Don’t worry about them. They probably just think we’re from a different country or something. You can fake an accent like me and tell them you’re from London.” He laughed and crossed his long legs. You were both sitting in the grass and enjoying the sun as it went down.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d do when you got back to the house. Sex was very new to you and liked it a lot. Your hormones were going crazy and Harry’s body and his voice, the smile he kept giving you, god you could just jump his bones right in front of everyone. So you pulled yourself to your hands and knees, forgetting all about the sandwich you were eating and crawled into Harry’s lap, making him sit his sandwich down. You straddled his thighs and put your arms over his shoulders and kissed him.

Harry was happy to give up his sandwich and his lap for you. He leaned back to give you more space as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. You wrapped your lips around his and then slid your hands into his hair. Your heart was pounding and you didn’t care that anyone could see you making out in the grass. There were kids running around, people walking their dogs in the park so there was a decent amount of activity going on around you.

“Mmm… can we make ourselves invisible? Like what you did when you first met me? Have sex right here in front of everyone? Or will that be bad using our powers? Aim said to lay low…” You leaned back and looked at the handsome demon. The beautiful demon.

“Fuck. I don’t think we should, just in case. Maybe we’ll do that another time, though. Hmm? Wanna get my cock stuffed inside that little pussy right in front of everyone?” He bucked himself upward as he spoke and you sighed at the feeling. Knowing it was yours. All yours. You could wait until you were back at the bungalow to rip his clothes off if you needed to but you really wanted him now.

“Yes. That’s what I want. Right in front of everyone.” You rolled your hips down over Harry, “Maye we could even let everyone hear it. They’d be listening in to really hot, sex, some spanking maybe, and when we come they’d know they were hearing two people fucking, but just couldn’t see it. Wouldn’t know where it was coming from. God, doesn’t that sound hot?” You nudged yourself closer and Harry grasped your bottom.

“It sounds naughty. That’s going on the list of things to try at some point. Fuck. My dirty girl. Are you ready to go back to the house? Want more of me already?” Harry’s grin was salacious. His cock was already growing hard. “Yes, please. Feels like it’s been too long since you’ve been inside of me.”

Part 13*

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love on tour: the rival

if the moon smiled, she would resemble you – Sylvia Plath, ‘The Rival’

part one

harry and you are no longer together and it’s complicated.

read part one here

She felt inadequate.

She felt guilty, ashamed that she’d just up and left without any explanation. He deserved one, an explanation of what was going on in her head that she felt the need to leave. Though, she thought herself to be a coward when it came to that; communication. So now, standing in front of him, looking into his eyes, she still feels inadequate, almost like a cheater– like she’s just wasting his time.

She shakes her head, trying not to notice the defeat on his face. “I– we shouldn’t talk about this tonight. I’m here to support you–”

“–Bullshit,” he spits, fingers running through his damp hair. “You’re fucking me over. Coming here, showing up here… you’re fucking with my head.”

“I’m not doing anything! I’m here because I know this is important to you.”

“Yeah? Well, you fucked with my head, again. Like you always do… like you did the last time you left. I mean– fuck. I should hate you. You knew I’d get all pathetic and beg for you to come back to me because when have I ever stood a chance when it comes to you?”

“Harry…” she tries. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking– I only wanted to show some support. I’ll–” she looks around at the empty room, trying to locate her bag. No luck. “I’ll go.”

She turns around. Harry follows.

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Go,” he says, nodding. “You do a fantastic job at that.”

Keep reading

GET IT KING

Imagine getting to fuck Harry wearing nothing but one of his shirts with your heels on and messy hair. He keeps biting your lips and grabbing your ass and spanking you. He's kind of out of control and you kneel before him to suck his cock and almost devour it as he keeps tugging your hair and thrusting into your mouth. "Such a slut fo me aren't ya baby" and you'd smile while licking his balls and then he wrecks you. "on fours darlin imma fill you up so good"

🥵🥵🥵

I feel a new one shot on the horizon

doubt us

Summary: Harry is less famous than y/n, causing the whole world to believe he’s using her for her success.

Tags: angst, fluff, famous reader x less famous harry 

A/N: thank you so much @littledreamybeth​ for this request! I appreciate it so much xx 

I am taking blurb requests at the moment (this one just ended up being a bit long) so please send them in!

It wasn’t the instagram comments that affected Harry.

Though they were on every photo he posted of his love - whether it be a picture of the two of them backstage at his concert, or a picture of y/n fast asleep on the couch, having crashed after her own - he paid little attention to them.

Sure he saw them, read a few.

“Usually such a private person… and yet he’s posting all these photos of y/n… couldn’t possibly be chasing clout,” commented one of y/n’s fan on his photo of his love, smiling in the sand and drowning in the widest brim beach hat to exist.

“Can’t wait for y/n to realise he’s just a gold digger looking to elevate his career,” another wrote, bringing a frown to his face.

He shook his head at himself.

These people didn’t know him. Didn’t know y/n. They were either just over-protective, devoted fans or jealous ones. They didn’t affect him.

With that thought, he locked his phone.

Keep reading

“Move”

Rating: NC-17 (smut)

preview:

The evening was hot and muggy, the hair that you had spent hours on earlier today when Harry announced that he wanted to go on a date that evening starting to stick to your now sweaty neck, regret filling your mind about how long it took, and how it will probably go up in some sort of hair tie pretty soon. Trying to find relief you tilted your head backwards and let the strands dangle to the middle of your back, swaying your head back and forth gently to let any type of air in the thick humidity hit the back of your neck. Your eyes slid closed for a minute when air hit your neck, shivers running up your spine. For a minute you thought it was pure luck, like the heavens were listening, but a split-second later you realized you knew where this stream of air was coming from. Your eyes opened halfway and you looked to your right, to the source of the air, and they landed on a set of perfect raspberry red lips, wet from the drink he was sipping on in a shape of an O.

“You don’t happen to have a hair tie, do you?” you groaned and bit your lip, glancing at the top of his head that was still adoring his Dunkirk hair, the shaved bits were now growing back into his beautiful curls. They were not long enough for him to pile any sort of tiny bun on his head, but you still had hope. For a month or two after he chopped it off for charity and it was buzzed for the movie, there was still a hair tie lingering in his pocket or on his wrist out of pure instinct and familiarity. It took him another two months to figure out that he wouldn’t need one, finally ditching them. You thought that maybe if he was growing it back, the hair ties would come back.

He glanced at his wrist, brows pulled together as his arm twisted around and he pouted out, shoving his hand in one pocket, then the other one. He looked at you with sorrow in his face, grabbing at your locks and wrapping them in a circle between his index and thumb finger. Leaning in he blew another stream of air on your neck, the pressure of the wind getting closer until you felt his lips on your skin.

“Think you look gorgeous”, his nose skimmed the side of your neck, letting your hair fall back down and his hand snaked over the back of your neck. It was cold from him holding his drink and you let out an approving sigh, your head lulling back in search for more. He was still planting wet kisses on your neck and rubbed his thumb on your skin, one more sweet kiss before he pulled away.

“Ugh” you grumbled and dipped into your small purse, in search of any relief, a rubber band would do right now. You wouldn’t care if it pulled at your roots or broke it, you were about to ask the waitress at the bar for a knife to cut it all off. Taking a deep breath in when you closed your purse, you moved your huge mane of hair to one side of your shoulder, letting it cascade down the front of your chest.

“Sorry, love”, his hand moved down the center of your back, rubbing circles on your spine, “all the more reason for me to grow mine back”, his smile was halfway on his face, sipping at his ‘Old Jamaican’ drink he was so insistent on, because “We always have rum and coke, love. We are in Jamaica, we are trying something new, right?”

“Can think of another reason why”, you smirked and took a small sip from your drink, knowing he was thinking about it when his hand paused for a minute on your back.

“The first night I had this you told me it was easier to pull on”, he smirked and took another sip, his lips curling over his teeth as he swallowed, “less tangles for you to get stuck in when I’m eatin’ you” he said so blasé and monotone you wanted to ignore the tingle between your legs, but he had this power over you. Of course you two were best friends and did basically everything together, and he turned you on as much as you made him crazy, but he was just talking right now, and you should not be pressing your thighs together. There was nothing sexual in his tone but the way he lookedright now – all tanned from being on the beach and doing nothing else all week, and smelling like coconut, alcohol and him – it was driving you into thoughts you should not be having.

Before you could say anything, the club that Damian Marley was playing at started to fill drastically, people packing in all around you and you were both stuck in the middle, dirty thoughts subsided when you started chatting with a woman next to you. She was nice, and charming, and you thought nothing more than a sweet stranger until she took a couple of glances up at Harry. Her eyes sparkled and flickered back down to you, as if you didn’t see it. Your jealousy shouldn’t be spiked but you’ve had a drink now and you were ready to throw punches if needed.

“Harry, love”, you turned to him after pausing your conversation with the stranger, rubbing your hands up the thin fabric of his sleeveless baggy shirt. Glancing up at him you made yourself known to the woman behind you when you kissed his jaw, rubbing your hand over his stomach.

“Mmmm?” he moaned in approval at your lips touching his face, half lidded eyes peering down at you.

“Can you get me another drink?” you held up your now empty glass (you gulped it down after a jealous conversation) , peering up at him.

“Course”, he kissed your temple and took your empty glass, “don’t go far”, he turned on his heel and nodded to the woman next to you, swiftly moving towards the bar between people. It was like he was Moses parting the red sea; people just parted for him like he wasn’t asking.

The crowd started to move in a bit more, you turned to look over your shoulder to find Harry because the ‘holding his place’ thing was getting a bit too much since people were starting to give you the side eye. But you found Harry’s eyes quickly and he smiled just a bit at you, holding the drinks steady in his hands. Again, he wasn’t even asking but people just seemed to move for him without the slightest bit of anger.

“Here ya go, pretty lady”, he handed you your drink held up his, and you joined him in a friendly ‘cheers’ clink of your glasses. The both of you took a sip and smiled at each other, your hand running through his hair.

“You look so handsome”, you said over your glass.

“Shush”, he grabbed your wrist and held a kiss to the bottom of your palm, the woman who was behind you must have been eyeballing him because he glanced her way, then back down at you, smirking – a laugh coming from his nose and hitting your skin.

“Don’t think your new friend likes us very much”, he let go of your wrist and your hand traveled down his toned chest, resting on his navel.

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful”, his eyes traveled from your head slowly, scanning your neck that he’s left so many love bites on, the shoulders he bites and massages, your chest, stopping at your breasts and he bit his lip.

“Perv” you stifled out a laugh and turned towards the stage, but his eyes were still burning into you. He reached your ass and then – what was that?

His eyes searched through the slit of your dress, just to look at that again. What was that? Was it a tattoo? A gold tattoo? Of a … sparrow? On your thigh? He needed to see this. Needed to see a bit of territory that was his now marked with something that piqued his interest. When did she put this on, and was it there for him to find it?

He started to reach down with his fingers when the lights turned all the way off; the only lights that turned back on were on the stage. People started to cheer and so did you, your hands cupping your mouth when you let out an approving and excited squeal.

He wanted nothing more than to watch you now, watch you sing along and dance, and to hold you in front of him when a slow song came on. He wanted to enjoy this concert because it was a fucking Marley and this was once in a lifetime, but he was not forgetting the flash of gold on your thigh that caught his eye. He was going to enjoy this concert and the fact that he was not known at all here in Jamaica, and how good of a time you two were having on vacation. Taking a sip of his drink he followed you with your approving yells when Damian came out, followed by a few other people. The concert started and he was distracted, but not enough to look for this hidden gem later on.

Four songs in and the entire venue was filled with people, traces of lingering cannabis smoke which made you a bit dizzy when mixed with your already intoxicated self, Damian on stage going between songs and just straight up jamming with the band like right now, where it was so packed that you were forced to stand in front of Harry. His hands had snaked down to your waist as to hold on to you if you were to walk away he wouldn’t lose you, but you have no idea where you would go in this atmosphere, and you didn’t want to go anywhere. Your head lulled back onto his chest during a particularly slower song, his hands wrapping their way around your sweaty stomach, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Harry”, you reached up and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, sweat covering your palm as you rubbed the smooth skin.

“Sweetheart”, he kissed up your neck, little nibbles and licks here and there.

“Love you”, you reminded him, and even though it was a drunk thought, it was a real thought. And he knew that.

“Someone’s having a good time”, he hummed and smiled against your skin, pulling your sweaty back to his chest. He swayed with you for a while and you kept your hand on his neck, the two of you safely intertwined into the music, and each other. It was something you never wanted to get sick of, and somewhere you always wanted to be. No matter how hot and sweaty you were, or how your makeup was probably dripping and your hair a frizz ball, he was enamored still, and that made you fall even harder for him. You had to face him, you had to kiss his lips, and let him know how much you really, really, felt about him.

Turning around your eyes met his, his lids at half mass under his glossy and slightly red eyes which brought out the green even harder. He studied your face for a minute and bit his lip in curiosity as you played with the sweaty pieces of hair on the back of his neck. You wanted to drink him in, to soak up this moment – the moment you knew you really truly realized you had handed over your heart to him.

“S’matter”, he slurred out of those beautifully wet red lips, one eyebrow shot up out of curiosity.

“Just… love you”, you brushed the top of his sweaty head, “probably forever”, and before he could have a chance to respond, and before you could look into his eyes for a response of any kind, your lips sank onto his. He accepted quickly, his hands snaking into the soaking locks until he was able to grip the back of your head, a handful of hair wound through his fist lightly, tugging gently. He had better leverage this way, and he was able to explore more skin

His lips parted from yours and he inhaled, attacking your jugular and kissing sweetly down your neck.

“So much”, he slurred under his drunkenly high state, “love you”, he said it backwards, but you knew he meant it.

It felt like hours that the two of you were embracing this long. You were quite literally shoulder to shoulder with seven or eight other people who were just as into their own thing as you were. No one was paying attention to anyone, the vibe was so relaxed, so raw, and under these lights, in this heat, with these vibes – it was also unmistakably sexy.

The band started to pick up from the random jam, a small beat coming through. It was slow at first, but when Damian started to chant something about his father, you were woken from your trance. You hadn’t noticed that you were now gripping onto Harry like your life absolutely depended on it, your cheek pressed up against his chest so hard that you probably caused a red mark to form. You blinked a bit and licked your lips, wiggling a bit.

You also hadn’t noticed that Harry’s hands had got considerably closer to your bum, the heat from the evening sticking his palms on your dress. You didn’t notice that he was fiddling with the fabric on your dress, and you reallydidn’t notice that he was holding you steady – with one leg between your legs. You felt your entire body get hot when you came to your senses and could feel everything again. You could smell him, his sweat mixed with him and his cologne, along with the vibrations of his chest when he hummed along.

The overwhelming sense of the button on his jeans was rubbing dangerously close to your slick core, his thigh pressing just slightly up in-between your legs every other time his soft sways leaned all of his weight on one leg. Trembling, you realized you needed more. Your hands traveled from his neck down to his back, until it rested on his lower back.

He stilled when your fingers pressed into the back of his jeans, pulling him closer into your chest. Wordless, you glanced up at him and he looked down at you like it was in slow motion. Lifting your leg, you watched his eyes and he inhaled through his teeth when you properly mounted yourself flush on the thick of his thigh muscle, pressing down a bit.

Just then you heard what was going on behind you. The band was playing a melody that egged you on even farther. It was reggae but it was in true Damian form with a harder rock undertone, the bass driving you both insane. You sat up against him and he pulled you up by the waist, his hand around your thigh, thumb rubbing on the gold sparrow he had found earlier. It was sweaty and falling off a bit from his contact, but he was still very intrigued.

“Did you want me to find this, little one? Wearing one of my tattoos on your thigh so daddy could find it?” he growled into your ear and the moment he said ‘daddy’, you knew, for a fact, you were fucked.

“Want you to fuck it off of me”, you said unto his ear and he only shifted harder forward, guiding your hips so that you were bucking into a rhythm onto his thigh, whimpers leaving your mouth as your clit rubbed against his thigh bone. His hand snaked around the back of your head and he pulled again, this time a little harder, exposing your neck to him. One arm was gripping your thigh, the other on your head as he pulled you closer, attaching his lips to your neck.

“Want everyone to see you fuckin’ my thigh? Hmmm? Dirty girl you are…” he groaned when your other leg brushed against his length as you rubbed up again, pressing your core so hard onto his leg it was almost painful, “get wha’ you need, little one… then I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’ be able to move”, he challenged, biting the bottom of your ear.

“Harry… oh god”, you gasped out and he held your head back, his lips removed from your skin.

“Wanna watch you cum all over my leg”, he bit his bottom lip and peered down at you, watching you rock back and forth, not sure if the moisture that already formed was from his sweat or from your own desires – but the thought of the smell of sex in the air with people in such close proximity made you climb to your high quickly, a whimper and a squeal leaving your lips. He kissed you then, deep and passionate, wrapping the other arm around you, biting your lip as he pulled away, taking it with him.

“Not too loud, kitten”, he pressed, “don’t want to get caught, do you?” his thumb brushed up against your bottom lip and you shook your head no. He was still gripping the back of your head and your hands pressed against his hard chest, digging into the fabric that covered his flesh when you felt yourself shake.

“Ride me harder”, he pulled you close and kissed your jaw, his other hand flush on your ass, now.

“Harry!” you squealed breathlessly when he pressed his thigh up harder onto you, your slow and rhythmic grinding became static and short, fistfuls of his shirt in your hands as you came undone, gurgling and sputtering out his name, burying your face until his chest.

“Got m’leg all wet”, he pressed a kiss into your cheek, “these are expensive jeans, and you made a mess on the ground”, he had both of his hands on your ass now, palming at the soft flesh.

You shook for a few seconds later, inhaling and exhaling and he held you close with both arms, the grip on your hair was now focused on the grip on your back and you took one more grind forward to press your leg into his hard erection, your palm snaking down to the front of his jeans, rubbing against it in pure lust.

“Please”, you trembled one more time, the aftershock of riding on him in public, and having a wild orgasm in public making you dizzy.

“Not here, love”, he glanced around and even though no one was looking, and you were pretty sure no one would give a single fuck if he went up on stage and fucked you right in front of Damian, he was still very much Harry Styles, and he was always cautious.

“C’mon”, he turned around and crouched down, his palms flat and up towards you and he mentioned a “come here” with his fingers. You climbed on his back as best as you could, tossing the sticky hair off of your back and finding somewhere to grab him to hang on for dear life.

He skillfully left the club with you around his waist, dodging people left and right. Your head was ducked into the space between his shoulder blades when he stopped, straightening his body so you could slide off once you were outside of the club. He wasted no time grabbing you by the wrist and pulling down the street to the four –story parking lot. Once his hand hit the door to the stairs, he closed it quickly and jumped up one flight, pressing your back up against the cold mint colored wall.

His lips found yours hungrily, the air between the two of you was just as hot, maybe even hotter than the Jamaican humidity. The rum mixed with his absolute burning desire on his lips was enough for you to come again then and there, your sweat drenched bodies sticking together when he came up for air. One hand was on the wall next to your head, the other fiddling with the slit on your dress. His fingers once again found the sparrow, he glanced at it and it was halfway gone.

“Not fucked enough yet, I guess”, he kissed up your neck, sucking at a spot you knew was going to show a serious bruise tomorrow. He continued to work on your neck and he didn’t notice that you were hooking your thumb into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down. The red lace trailed down your thighs and he let go of your neck when you bent just a bit, his eyes flashing red down to your movements.

“Did you want to do this?” you stopped and raised an eyebrow, knowing very well he could probably take these off with one rip of his enormous hands.

He just glared and bit his lip at the red lace now falling over the gold sparrow, taking a step back to allow you to climb out of your red panties. He watched you, adjusting his length, toss them down the stairwell, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him with all the life you had in you.

He dragged you up another flight, kissing you up the wall, stumbling upstairs, his hand at one point snaked under your dress slit and he pressed you up against another stairwell landing, his fingers trailing up your folds.

“Jesus”, he strained out, your little moans as he hit your clit made his eyes go wild. He looked absolutely perfect. He was prickling sweat on his hairline – the sweat on his arms making his tattoos pop, the little trickles falling down his chin you wanted to lick at and taste for days. He was wild with lust, eyes everywhere – almost fully black. His lips were bright red from sucking and biting and curse words, the sweat on the top of his lip was begging to be sucked off.

His hips thrust up in-between your legs – his erection rubbing up against your slick folds he created earlier from his thigh. He grunted into your neck and you pressed your chest to his, wrapping your leg around him so he could get closer. He rutted up his erection a few more times, dry fucking you until he was relieved.

Suddenly the downstairs door opened; a loud crowd spilled through and you were forced to stop. You both heard the curious voices of men shouting about red panties, the jealously in his face hardened when he figured out that they were probably going to smell them.

“S’mine”, he reminded you, “what bloody floor are we on”, he checked the number next to the door you were standing next to, a big faded number “2” marked the concrete.

“Three”, you huffed, his dry pursuits earlier leaving you breathless and needing a hell of a lot more.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll get more”, he kissed and sucked your neck and before the loud crew rounded the corner to your floor, he pulled you up the stairs by the wrist, until you reached the third floor door. He looked around quickly for his big shiny black rented range rover – a click to the small button in his pocket signaled the doors unlocking with flashing lights about four cars away.

He nearly sprinted to it when it was found, the adrenaline running through you both as you found the car. He pushed you up against it, your sweaty back hitting the cool window as he hiked your dress up, another attempt at a dry fuck.

“Harry”, you stopped him, “just fuck me”, he gets like this sometimes. When he’s gotta fuck you so back, so hard, he forgets sometimes that he can – and he forgets that wherever he is, there is always going to be a private space right under his nose.

“Right”, he rolled his sweaty forehead against yours, kissing your nose sweetly in all of the noise of his head. Peeling himself off of you he opened the door to the back seat, hoisting you up onto the cool leather seat by your waist.

“Wait”, you held a finger to his chest and turned your body just enough so he was looking at the golden zipper that fell all the way down your black dress. He bit his lip and sweetly moved your hair to one side of your shoulder, his fingers pinching the little round gold pebble of the zipper on the top, slowly making his descent on your back. With every new inch of skin, his lips were not far behind. Kiss after goosebumps leaving kiss, his fingers finally found the base of the zipper, planting several sweaty kisses there until he pulled away. You turned to face him, his expression had changed from lust to pure adoration, worshiping your body with just one look.

“Quit it”, you blushed, “get over here and fuck me”, you grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the car, his legs leaving the ground once he was fully inside. He kissed you hard and deep, his hand under your dress, motioning for you to take it off. Breaking the kiss he got up, shutting the door behind him. Your hands followed his bicep, biting your lip as you watched him turn on the engine and rolling down the windows just a hair, shutting it back off.

He finally settled next to you again, quickly helping you peel out of your dress. What he found next made him stop dead in his tracks. You were warm, and sweaty, and from the previous excursion in the stairwell – naked. His lips quickly attached to your nipples, cupping and grabbing at them, his entire body flat against yours as he pinned you up against the seat.

You grabbed at the bottom of his shirt, signaling to him to take it off. He obliged, breaking his kiss on your collarbone, licking at the sweat before pulling the sticky fabric off his body. Your hands immediately flew to his back, scratching and rubbing, reveling in worship filled kisses to your naked body.

One of your palms snaked in-between the two of you, finding his erection pressing up against his jeans. You barely touched the surface and he inhaled a sharp gasp of breath, lips pursed together and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Don’… fuck… need to…, but.. din’t bring a condom…” he deflated for a minute and you grinned, his expression went clueless as you he watched you smile.

“Baby”, you kiss his chin, “we’ve been together for three years”, you remind him sweetly. Even though it’s been three years, it’s felt like three seconds. Every single minute of this relationship with harry was pure bliss, even when you did have your screaming at each other fits. Neither of you strayed, even when there was that one week that the two of you needed to just get away from each other.

“Wha’… wha… can’t… wha?” he was blabbering and you ran your fingers over his sweet lips, smiling and pressing a peck to them.

“I’m on birth control, you know that. The past year. I want to feel you, baby,” you chewed on his ear lobe, “I want you to feel how wet you make me”, he stopped momentarily and pressed his lips together.

“Fuckin’ love you, bird”, he rubbed the outside of your folds with his fingers, watching you intently un-button his jeans. You were able to get half of his zipper down and failed the other half, your hand diving into his pants, palming over his boxer-brief covered erection, feeling the sticky spot that had already formed from the previous attempts to get some relief.

He sat up momentarily just to zip down what was left of his zipper, hooking his fingers into his jeans. One knee was propped on the seat between the back rest and your knee, the other leg holding him up on the floor. From this angle you could see every curve, ripple, and highlight of his perfect chest. You took a minute to run your hands over it, your fingers dipping into the “V” on the sides of his hips. He was perfect, and soft, and yours.

“Now you quit it”, he bit his bottom lip and he pulled at his boxer briefs and for a minute you lost your breath, watching his erection spring free, his hand gripping the base of his shaft. You wanted so badly to taste the top of his head that was disappearing and reappearing over the skin he was pumping, but you were actually aching and needed him to relieve you. Plus, you wanted, no, needed to feel him raw inside of you for the first time.

“Shit”, he pinched the skin on the tips of his nose, “gonna cum just thinkin’ about bein’ bare inside of you”, he looked up at the ceiling like he needed to regroup, his hand left his erection and he rubbed his face with both of his hands, your hands left his body and you waited, as long as it took, for him to get where he needed to be.

You shifted your body on the leather seats and draped your leg off to one side on the floor, biting your lip. After a beat his hand found his shaft again and he looked considerably calmer, but still had that animal look in his eye like he was going to absolutely rip you to shreds.

Finally, he was hovering over you, peppering kisses on your mouth, collarbone, and down to your breasts, returning up to your mouth. He grabbed the leg that you had swung over the side and held it firm, positioning himself at your entrance. He wrapped his arm around your back, the tension boiling up inside of you.

“Ready?” He was ready to pound into you, but he was also always worried that you would say no. He always asked permission, no matter what. No matter how many times you told him to just fuck you, he still asked.

“Yes, please”, you took a sharp intake of breath and he pushed in, the both of you groaning. He pushed all the way, until your hips snapped together, holding you there for just a minute.

“So… wet…” he murmured.

This was new. This was…. Fucking incredible. It was like the heavens erupted and you were in a euphoric trance. He was so big and every single ripple, vein, curve, was felt by the clenching of your bare walls. Skin to skin, bodies so close together, you swear you could cry from the overwhelming emotion of being this close to someone you love so much… with every single inch of your heart.

“Always this warm? Christ…. Fuckin… no more condoms”, he started a simple small rhythm, something for you to both enjoy on your first time going completely bare. The car started to rock just a bit but not enough for people to realize what was happening, just yet.

“Never”, you smiled and grabbed the back of his neck, a single tear leaving your eyes, trailing down to your ears. You were blissfully happy, blissfully in love – even covered in sweat and probably smelled like alcohol and smoke. This was something you wanted to engrain into your mind for the rest of your life.

He started picking up his pace, quick, deep thrusts that made you call out a bit. His body was pressed up to yours, sweaty chest to sweaty chest. He was kissing you with every new thrust, his eyes half lidded as he was in complete fucked out bliss, exploring your new feelings with every inch of his mind, knowing that he was memorizing you as well.

Suddenly, he really started to give it to you. Quick, pulsing movements, rocking you so hard that you started to move up against the seat, your back now halfway against the door. Your hands flew up to the window, grabbing for any kind of air as he pounded into you relentlessly, his little grunts and moans making your eyes roll back.

“Harry!” you screamed, it was a blood curdling, attention grabbing scream – and he stopped his movements immediately.

The both of you didn’t know that the parking lot was full of people, and the two of you stopped short when you heard a knock at the blacked out windows.

“Yeh alright, man?” a man’s voice asked curiously from the other side of the window. Harry pulled you back down to the seat, never leaving your heat. His head hid in your neck.

“Shhh baby gonna get yourself caught gettin’ fucked bare”, two of his sweaty fingers dipped into your mouth and you sucked in hard, his pace never slowed.

“Just excited about somethin’, she’s fine”, harry called out to the man on the other side. He peeked up and saw a shadow, “answer him baby”, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and you tried to stifle out a scream as the head of him rubbed your insides hard and fast.

He got up a bit and moved your leg back down to the floor, pounding quickly into you but not enough to rock the car.

“Fine, just fine!” you squealed at the last part, “Just happy!” You croaked and started to spasm, your orgasm so close, “harry please stop until he leaves, I’m going to cum so hard”, you grabbed for his chest and scratched at it, begging for mercy.

“Nope”, that only drove him harder, finding a pace that was solid and fluid.

Your mouth fell open and eyes flew back into your head. All you can remember was Harry’s salty palm clapping over your mouth and you screamed through your lips that were pressed tightly together. Your orgasm fell on top of you like a ton of bricks, and there was no indication of him letting up anytime soon. He rubbed your clit with two fingers, pressing into your sensitive button hard.

“One more” he rasped out.

“Can’t… harry… can’t” you shivered at the contact of his fingers on your clit.

“Can”, he egged you on, pulling a nipple between his teeth, “can, you can, want you to drip off m’cock”, by this point you were a puddle, limp under him, boneless and noodle like.

He had to hold you close, his big strong arm around your back and he held you tightly so you wouldn’t slip off the leather and crash to the floor.

“Oh God”, you gasped almost immediately, grabbing at his shoulders in surprise.

“Tha’s it”, he hummed, “knew you could”, you gasped, inhaling and exhaling harshly, pushing on his shoulders but he was going nowhere.

“Fuckkkkkkkkk”, you let out a groan, deep in your throat, as your third orgasm fell over your entire body. You were so wet, drenching your thighs and his stomach, shivering and shaking under him, stuttering out nonsense. He kissed you with a smirk on his lips, slowing his thrusts a bit.

“Such a good girl”, he praised you and kissed your neck, “knew you could”, he held you steady until he felt your strength fall back into your bones, your breathing returning to normal. You kissed his neck and pushed at his shoulder, his eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“Up”, you whispered, “your turn”.

He pulled you up with him, never leaving your heat, his back up against the seat and you were strattling him, knowing exactly how to get him off. You glanced over his shoulder and saw a mass of people leaving clubs, talking and yelling and laughing amongst themselves.

“We’re gonna get found out if you holler”, you warned, “so many people could watch you getting fucked right now, baby”, you said on his lips, grinding down balls deep on him.

“Jesus”, his palms dug into his eyes, tossing his head back.

You clenched around him and he yelped, now it was your turn to put your fingers in his mouth.

He hollowed his cheeks and glared at you, his hips bucking up to meet your deep grinds.

“C’mon baby… wanna see that cum drip out of my pussy” you reminded him that he was indeed bare, and that he was going to see his cum leak from it pretty soon. The thought of it sent his mind into a haze and he gulped, bucking up into you harder.

“Clench one mo’ time,” he smacked your ass and you clenched, “ah, here it comes”, you sat all the way down on him and ground your hips as far as you could go, not moving as you felt him grunt and hold you tight, his orgasm flying through his body, electric waves sparking the tips of his outstretched toes.

“Fuck”, he hissed, “fuck..”

Wave, after wave, after wave of his cum spurt up into you and you held yourself tightly down on him, clenching around him a couple of times. His head tipped back and you kissed his Adams apple as it bobbed in his throat, watching him come undone. Piece by piece, starting from his head, to his eyes, to his lips, chin, neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, stomach, pelvis, all the way down to his toes – he was shooting inside of you for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he took a deep breath and you noticed it – he had brought his head back up, his eyes red and glossy. He had been fucked to tears.

“Oh baby”, you smiled and kissed each eyelid, wiping at the bottoms of his eyes, kissing the salty liquid away.

“So good t’me”, he kissed your lips so sweetly, your own eyes starting to mist.

For a minute you just sat there after he pulled out, holding each other. Your head was on his shoulder, your finger tracing mindless heart patterns on his sparrows and his butterfly, tracing over the “G” on his shoulder.

“What the hell was in those drinks”, he finally giggled, kissing you and moving you to the side, getting up. You watched his bare backside lean over and pull up the windows, turning the air-conditioning on full blast, turning off the headlights of the car. You sighed in relief, head pressed back to the headrest. He came back with two water bottles from the center console from earlier that day when the two of you were exploring the outdoors of Jamaica on foot.

He came back to you and reached into the back, pulling out the giant beach blanket he had that was under your beach chairs. It was sandy and warm, but he pulled it over the both of you just enough to let the air fall on both of you as well.

You snuggled close to his chest, your back against it, his arm around your breasts and he held you close. He opened a water bottle and put it up to your mouth, you grabbed it and downed the bottle in a total of .2 seconds. He did the same to his, tossing both of them to the back of the car.

“God I think my balls are empty”, he joked after a minute of silence, and you giggled.

You just kissed his wrist, playing with his fingers.

“Hey”, he said seriously, kissing your head.

“Mmm?” you hummed sleepily, a happy yawn leaving your lips.

“You meant what you said about lovin’ me forever?” he asked and you stopped, your eyes popped open.

“I – well, yeah but, I – alcohol, s’just… I mean…” he hushed you with a kiss to your hair, over and over.

“Din’t give me a chance to respond”, he giggled, “too busy kissing me”, he licked his lips and picked up your left hand, fiddling with the skin on your fourth finger.

“Don’ have a ring… and this isn’t romantic, but, uh…I think, no positive I could love you forever”… he gulped, “if you’ll let me”.

“Oh harry” your eyes welled up and you took the rest of your energy to turn to him, tackling him down to the seat, an “oof” leaving his chest as you landed on him.

“Yes, yes, yes”, you kissed him and started to cry, with the biggest, brightest smile on your face that almost hurt.

“Yeah? You’ll be m’wife?” you pulled him closer and started to sob, kissing every single inch of his face.

“If you’ll be my husband”, you pulled the blanket over the both of you, collapsing on his chest.

“Forever and ever”, he was rubbing your back sweetly, the two of you talked until you cooled off, falling asleep in the happiest state you have ever been in.

#38 thank you so much for making this for us! 💕💕

Of course! Hope you like this one! 💜  xxx 

Prompt: “This is probably a bad time, but marry me?” 

[06] “Can you repeat the question?”

Harry really didn’t think this one through.

Which is pretty fucking odd if he thinks so himself. Because he nearly always thinks things through! He’ll do you one better, he’ll overthink till it drains him.

He’ll tear his hair out, pace back and forth and run far too many miles until he’s sure. 

He’ll lose sleep, oversleep and then run more miles just to get some clarity.

Harry likes to be sure.

So for a decision like this, he was sure he’d think on it for a solid month, maybe four. He’d make sure all his ducks were in a row. 

He wanted to be sure she knew who she was saying yes too (hopefully.) That she wasn’t gonna say yes and marry some knob. She doesn’t deserve a knob.

Harry had always heard of that moment where you just know. His dad told him about it once. But Harry scrapped that whole idea years later when his parents separated. But nonetheless, he still thinks his dad was onto something. Because he feels something. That something. 

Harry was absolutely sure that when he’d start to feel like this he’d start planning. He’d make sure she’s happy here, with him, like this for the long haul. That all of this is manageable for her, that she wants to stick around always for all the good and bad bits. And the complicated bits in between. Because there will be all three, there always is. But the bad bits don’t always look as bad when you have someone sitting next to you.

He knew he needed a good plan, a creative one. One that matched them both. Because he knows that if the roles were reversed she’d orchestrate and plan the best of its kind. Shit, she’d be damn good at proposing to him he reckons. But anyway, he wants that, wants her to have the big production from start to finish.

He knew he was supposed to snatch one of her rings, the plenty she keeps on the dressing table and start the search. But did he? No. He knew he had to ask her dad too, (he hadn’t) because if he was going to go all out, might as well go all out.  

But when Harry realized all of this, the whole ‘she’s the only one’ bit he didn’t lose a minute of sleep over a plan nor did he over sleep. He was very calm and comfortable. He’d actually never remembered a time he was this settled. His mind hadn’t raced once. So he didn’t put on his running shoes, nor tug on his hair…not once…not at all. He didn’t need to run anything off, not stress or nerves or any uncertainties. 

Truthfully, he didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t recognize the Harry that wasn’t in knots. He’s sure about this that’s why. No need to go out for a run or sleep and hope it comes to him in a dream.

So he thought of nothing. Not one detail, nothing. Only that he wants to. Wants this. Doesn’t want to be with anyone else ever. So maybe that’s more than enough. To know just that.

And here he is, knowing what he’s got to ask…what he’s got to get out. Because if he doesn’t do it now, it won’t happen for another month or three when he decides to overthink instead.  

He does want her to have the whole production. Flowers, him knelt on one knee and a ring in a box. He’ll do it over if she wants, ten times over even. This is her thing, the thing she’s probably dreamt about since she was young. But he finds it hard to believe that his girl, the one who gave him a hard time about getting a house together…also dreamt of getting fancily proposed to. She laughs and teases at those things. He’ll still do it though. Just to see that reaction if she wants.  Just to see those pretty cheeks redden. 

“Can’t even tell you hate those things.” He says grinning in continued disbelief each time. She still comes with him to every event. Every single one. Even if she’s got an exam the next day (which she does), work and school too and even when she’s cranky or mad at him. She still gets done up and links her arm into his. Every single time.

“I don’t hate them.” She says.

“You hate them.”

“Don’t put words into my mouth.” She rolls her eyes. “If I hated them I wouldn’t go. But I go for you. Support and whatnot. Whatever that is.” She teases, 

“You know you don’t have to?” He make sure. She doesn’t have to do anything. 

“I know,” she reaches behind her to pull down the zipper of her dress. She does know. “I know I don’t have to.”

“If you don’t want to you can just tell me, won’t be mad—”

“Where is this coming from Harry?” She turns to him from the mirror where she’s looking for the pesky zipper.

“Nothing, nothing.” He shakes his head. “Just don’t want you to keep doing things you don’t want to with me.”

“Stop that.” She glares.

“I just don’t want you to start resenting—”

“Harry!”

“What?”

“Where is this coming from? And can you drop it?” She crosses her arms, waiting. “I love you right? And m’aways proud of you s’why I come with you. Right?”

She’s right.  

He’s really just checking. He just wants to be sure that she’s still ok with all of this. That she hasn’t ever regretted anything or worse, maybe she’s unhappy. He’s always a bit wary that she doesn’t like this part and it’s quite a big one.

So god help him, he knows now. He always knew but he knows for sure now. When she’s slipping off those uncomfortable heels she hates and forgetting to put them in the closet where they belong. He knows when she’s taking out the pesky bobby pins in her hair as well as her earrings. When it’s half past one in the morning and she’s got an exam in eight hours. When she sits in an uncomfortable chair getting makeup done for hours when all she wants is to take their dog for a stroll in the park or nap. When she has to make sure she’s always got sunglasses in her bag even in rainy London because cameras are blinding. When she has to miss a few classes here and there because Harry is nominated for far far too many things.

“This is probably a bad time, terrible actually,” He starts. He wants to get that out of the way, that he knows he’s being crazy. Taking spontaneous to a whole new level. “Maybe not the worst, could think of a less fitting time…but—” He continues because is he really doing this? Now? Like this? Before he can answer himself it’s already rolling off his tongue, “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widen, checking to make sure he’s just said what he said. Her head turns in question. Is he actually asking this…that question. And it isn’t rhetorical. None of it is. He hasn’t ever seen her speechless, her eyes wide and stunned for this long. For a moment, he’s sure she didn’t hear or maybe she did and doesn’t have an answer. Maybe she’s so stunned that he’d ask her now, with no flowers, no ring—

“Can you repeat the question?” She barely lets out. “Don’t think I heard you ri—

“I’ll go slower this time…” He inches closer to her which is nearly impossible since he’s already so close to her. And he doesn’t think she’s even blinked since or breathing at all. “So you hear all my words yeah?”

She nods slowly. That’d be a good idea she thinks. “Yeah,” she nods hurriedly. “Again please.”

He pushes her hair back off her shoulder, tucks the strands behind her ear. Maybe her pretty hair is blocking the sound waves. He cups her face, pulling her closer to him so she doesn’t miss it this time.

“Will. You. Marry. Me?” He punctuates every word, wants to make sure it gets through.

That is what he said she realizes. She heard it right the first time. 

“You’re not joking right?” She exhales. She’s been holding her breath apparently. 

“Love.” He whines.

“How am I supposed to know!” She laughs. “We haven’t talked about—”

“Yes we have!” He defends. 

“We talked about babies!”

“Told you I was going to get you pregnant the second we exchanged I do’s and whatnot because—”

“Well be more specific!” She whines.

“M’being specific now!” He reasons. “Asked you to be my wife specifically, just now!”

“And you mean it?”

“Love—”

“You’re not just—”

“I mean it.”

“Well ok then,” she sighs. “Glad we straightened that out.”

He looks at her, bewildered, searching for her answer. She’s forgotten the whole point! She’s looking back at him confused, what’s he waiting for? 

“Still haven’t given me your answer love…” He reminds her.

She thought she’d said it already or that it was implied because they do talk a heck of a lot about babies and whatnot. 

She’s shaking and her smile is wide. She’s covering her face, her warm cheeks and she can’t stand still. She’s quaking in his hold and giggles escape her.

“Yes,” she nods hurriedly as if the offer expires if she doesn’t in time. “I will, yes…want to marry you, yes….a whole lot. Yes!”

He exhales then too, his racing nerves find a resting place and he just has to be sure. “Yeah? Is that a yes? Yes you’ll marry me?”

“Yes!” She sighs shakily as he lifts her up by her waist to wrap around him. “Do you want to ask a third time?” She laughs. “Might ruin it a bit.”

“I might ruin it? You ruined it.” He mutters against her lips. “You thought I was moving April Fools to tonight.”

“You’re always doing silly things.” She says holding onto him tighter.

“Like asking you to marry me?”

“We’ll find out soon won’t we?” She grins. “You’re gonna have to go at it again though. An official one with a ring this time. A take two.”

“I know.” He groans. “Was trying to be spontaneous sue me!”

“We’ve got to get married first silly,” she kisses him. “That’s when the suing and legalities begin.”

“Don’t joke.” He settles into her, at her neck is his favorite. “S’never gonna happen.”

Because even if he didn’t fully think all of this through. Get all the ducks in a row, ring type clarity cut and all that. He’s sure of this. He’s sure of her and the question he meant with every word. He’s sure they’re going to last. No messy documents or yelling behind lawyers. That was never going to happen.

He wouldn’t have come out with, nearly vomited it up if he wasn’t sure. That he knows. And she knows that too, that they’re in it for the long run. She’s hinted far too many times at it and she’s whispering a ‘never’ back at him.

And now because of this, he’s starting to think he was wrong all this time. When he overthinks too much it usually means he isn’t going with his gut. He isn’t absolutely positively sure about it.

But he’s damn sure about this.

“Want the whole thing.” She grins.

“I know you do,” he sighs. “The whole thing.”

“Want you on one knee, non negotiable.”

“Non negotiable.” He agrees because it isn’t. He wants to see her reaction to something cheesy like that. She’d probably laugh with him and tell him to get up because he looks silly.

“Never mind actually, could you write it for me in the sky? All big and bold. Could have you fly out of that same plane and then—”

“Want me to rearrange the stars too? Have them spell out my question?”

“That’s a bit much isn’t it?” She enjoys teasing him.

“That’s where you draw the line?”

“M’not opposed to fireworks either.” She notes.

“I’ll get you some fireworks.” He says but says it in a way that means a promise. Like he just might get her those fireworks.

“I didn’t mean that, don’t do that.”

“Well be more specific!” He whines just like she did. She pinches his side in response and he grins against her neck.

She lets him carry her to their bed. She hasn’t fully pulled off her dress and there still might be a few bobby pins in her hair and her makeup is still on. But she sets all of that aside and lets him hover over her.

“Don’t redo it.” She whispers. “Don’t want a redo. Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I mean it.”

“Have to get you a ring though.” He mumbles into her neck looking for her dress zipper left unzipped. “You might forget you said yes. Want proof you agreed to marry me.”

“Then just that.” She smiles. “So I won’t forget.” She whispers as he finally slides down the zipper she couldn’t quite get.

“Didn’t even ask your dad either…” He remembers.

“You just couldn’t wait could you?” She grins and he just shakes his head against her neck.

He really couldn’t. And he can’t wait for the actual day either. A lot of not being able to wait is ahead. And he can’t wait.