Harry Pounding U From Behind 🥵🥵🥵

daddy!harry fucking you awake in the morning, your laying on your stomach with Harry’s hand holding you down on your lower back pounding into you. When you wake up your a moaning mess trying to grind your ass back into his cock trying to match his rhythm he then ask “you like daddy using your little body like this for his own pleasure don’t you princess? “And all you can do is nod and try to form a sentence but your so overwhelmed with wanting to cum you can’t , all you can do is moan.

i forgot how to breathe reading this

once again if youre 12 pls dont read lmao

read more of my stuff here

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Omg silly sex with harry 😌😌

i'm on mobile so i'm going to do a wee headcannn bc they do be kinda fun

blowing raspberries against your skin while he's inside you

giggling so hard he has to stop thrusting

he's smiling to himself about your boobies bouncing

dirty talk isn't very successful and you end up sputtering through every sexy thing you can think of

harry places loving kisses to the weirdest parts of your body like your elbow or your belly button

bringing up the most random things like "did you listen to that podcast i sent you about coyotes" or "how does thai sound for dinner" as you're literally going at it

lots of nose budging

a playful nip on the flesh of your ass or the curve of your shoulder

him stopping in the middle to go get a scrunchie to tie his hair back (his little butt wigging as he runs to go get🥰)

UNCASVILLE

Prompt (from kofi commission): “Maybe a little blurb of HSLOT and reader on a day off exploring the city.”

warning: smut

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

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

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

-

Lucy really - like really couldn’t believe her own eyes right now.

She had saved up her money to take a train into Uncasville for Love on Tour which was happening tomorrow and she was spending the day exploring the city.

She really didn’t know how the odds were in her favor to this extent.

She had just gotten a seat at a tiny pizzeria in the city - stuffed in a back corner because she was by herself when the booth next to her is seated.

And it is none other than Harry fucking Styles and his stunning wife sitting across from him - the long seat was shared and she could have reached out and touched YN.

Harry had removed the hood of his hoodie then his beanie, then his sunglasses before handing them to his wife to put in her bag.

They were both dressed extremely casual.

Harry is a puffer jacket, black hoodie, and grey athletic shoes and YN in a familiar hoodie with the words DAMN. that she recognizes as her husband’s with cropped black leggings and nikes. **

Lucy is desperately trying not to stare as she sips on her water and she can’t believe her hands are shaking - they’re right there.

“Will you rub my thighs when we get home? They’re so fucking sore from that workout,” YN complains as soon as she plops down in the booth - her foot coming to rest on Harry’s thigh under the table.

His large hand, Lucy notices there are no rings right now except for his wedding band, squeezes her ankle and thumbs at her as he glances over the menu.

And when she hears his voice for the first time in person, holy shit, it’s deep and raspy but somehow smooth as silk with his accent.

“When have I ever said no to rubbin’ you down?” He smirks in a way that reminds Lucy of a schoolboy who just said a dirty joke.

“That one time in Glasglow,” She raises her eyebrow teasingly, making it seem like it was an inside joke which it definitely was because Harry blushes.

“I tried to get t’get it up, I was bloody smashed,” He defends, smirking micheviously when he pinches her and she jerks her foot off with a scowl, “Don’t forget I still helped you out plenty.”

“Mm, don’t recall,” YN obviously lies, biting back a smile as she scans over the menu, “What did I get here last time?”

“Y’got tha’ spinach pizza and we shared those garlic knots,” Harry hums, pouring them both water from the pitcher provided.

Jesus, he’s probably one of the most famous men on this earth with world tours and movies and companies but he still remembers what his wife ordered a dingy restaurant in Connecticut?

“Oh yeah, that was so good. Will you split those with me again?” She asks, putting back down the menu and sipping her water - well, chugging it really until it’s gone.

“Of course. I told you tha’ y’need to drink more water while we work out,” Harry frowns, pushing his glass towards her for her to sip on.

And it was just that, they were so domestic and so obviously in love - he had heart eyes for her and he was so attentive.

After they order, Harry’s phone buzzes and he huffs before he fishes it out to answer, “Wha’ Jeff?”

YN happens to glance over as she admires the art on the wall and Lucy quickly distracts herself with her book that she has open in front of her.

“No. I told y’that I’m not workin’ today. YN and I just want to-“

He’s cut off by whatever his manager is babbling about with a furrowed brow, his hand coming up to roll his bottom lip with frustration.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine, yeah,” Harry mutters hurriedly trying to get off the phone, “Alright, s’fine. As long as I’m home by five. Bye.”

YN looks back to her husband, “What did he just talk you into?”

“Meeting with Sony about the new album,” He sighs, running a hand through his curly locks, “Said I should be out by four.”

“Okay,” She agree calmly, nudging her foot against his with reassurance, “It’s fine.”

“I love you,” Harry replies with a small smile, secret and just for her, “Best partner I could ask for, so good t’me.”

Lucy resists the urge to pull out her phone to snap a picture or record their conversation - she was better than those intrusive fans.

They deserved privacy from the world like everyone else, sure she was eavesdropping but she promises herself that she won’t share this experience with anyone.

When their food comes, they both chow down on the pizza and garlic bread - talking animatedly throughout their meal.

She learns that Sarah and Mitch have had their baby on tour the whole time and Harry loves playing with him.

That Anne was coming to all the Los Angeles shows and staying at their house with them - planning a surprise party for her belated birthday.

That YN was flying out later in the month to support Gemma at a clothing campaign she’s doing with a British brand.

Then Harry shoves the last piece towards her, groaning, “Eat tha’, m’so full.”

For how lean and in shape Harry is, Lucy was surprised by how much he could eat and was quite impressed - boys and their metabolisms.

“I can’t, I’m stuffed,” She shakes her head, pushing it back towards him with a heavy exhale as she pats her stomach.

“M’gonna stuff you,” Harry mutters with that same wolfish expression before he stacks their plates and finishes his water.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” YN purses her lips, reaching in her bag for his beanie and sunglasses.

“Oh, I’ll keep it, darlin’,” Harry gruffs with a low, bravado and a dark look at her even when she rolls her eyes.

And the Harry is handing the waitress his black American Express before signing the bill with a large tip.

A fan approaches with her cell phone out and in the couples face, “Excuse me? Can we take a picture? I’m going to the concert tomorrow!”

Lucy can automatically see them both tense up, opposite from how relaxed they were a moment beforehand.

Harry plasters on a smile but he kindly shakes his head and says, “Not today, sorry.”

The girl visible gets upset, frowning as she remarks that she’s his biggest fan and that she’s spent so much money on his merch.

“Okay, just one,” Harry replies tersely, he seemingly agrees because it’s easier than engaging in a fight with the ‘fan’.

Then the girl scampers of with a prize picture on her phone, already sharing it to social media most likely, with not care that she disrespected his boundaries.

“You’re okay,” YN murmurs as they gather their things, she steps over to him and tugs him into a hug which he welcomes fully, “Tonight, just me and you at the apartment - movies and snacks. Just us.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I need tha’. Just me n’ you,” Harry agrees a bit happier and he tilts his wife’s jaw up for a kiss before squeezing her one more time.

Lucy knows and has seen pap/fan pictures and videos of them being affectionate- remembers how bitter fan girls always say their relationship is exaggerated or even fake.

Well, there is absolutely no way they could fake the love that they have for each other, it was obvious to Lucy how in love they were.

She watches as they leaves, doesn’t miss how Harry lands a smack on her bum before intertwining their hands.

Lucy sticks to her words, never tells anyone but her mom about what she witnessed in that little pizzeria in Uncasville .

-

As for Harry and YN, when he arrives at the meeting headquarters, he’s bombarded by paparazzi but scurries inside.

YN - back at their hotel room, orders all his favorite snacks, sets up all the fluffy blankets and pillows on the living room couch for when he comes home.

She can tracks his movements on her phone so when he’s heading home, she jumps in the shower because she knows he will join her.

Which he does, as soon as he finds her, he strips out of all of his clothes - leaving his vintage bomber jacket and jeans on the floor as he crowds into her despite how massive the shower is.

He hugs her from behind and lays his forehead on the back of her head, “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” YN replies, putting her hands over his on her belly, “How was the meeting?”

“Stressful,” Harry sighs, pulling her back until she pressed up against his hard chest, “Already talking about the third album’s tour dates. S’just so much considering tha’ I’ve only toured the US for this one and have so many more dates in other countries.”

“Not surprised,” She replies with an edge of irritation, they always stretched him so fucking thin.

“Hey, hey darlin’,” Harry coos softly, kissing her hair, “As long as I have y’with me, m’good. S’gonna be okay, lovie. Don’t get all pouty on me.”

“I hate sharing you. I have to share you nearly every night with tens of thousands of people,” YN mumbles, turning around to smush her cheek against his peck, chest against his.

Harry can’t help but twitch at the feeling of her pert nipples on his skin but he chuckles deeply, “Darlin’, I come home to you, yeah? Every night, m’in our bed. I got a ring on m’finger letting everyone know who I belong to. S’just me and you, has been since we were sixteen.”

YN begins to pepper kisses on his neck as he massages at the little bit of pudge he can never get rid of on his hips.

“Sweetheart,” He groans loudly when her hand dips lower to grasp him in her grip and give him a few tight tugs, “How could y’think I belong to anyone else? S’your cock, baby.”

“Mmm, it is,” She agrees demurely, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot beneath his crown before dragging over his drippy slit.

“Yeah, right like tha’,” Harry babbles, pushing into her hand to get a rhythm going - pants coming out from his plump lips as his eyes watch in rapt.

“Only I get you like this,” She states, almost to herself, as she sucks a gnarly hickey onto his chest near his sparrows - just to prove a point.

“Just you, you’re so good - fuck,” He hisses when she rolls his balls expertly with her other hand before he’s snapping out of it and shoving her off.

“Harry, what-“ She begins to ask, confused but she’s spun around once again and he pushes her against the cold tile - shushing her squeak at the coldness.

“Gonna let me ‘ave it?” His sex voice is in full force as his lips brush against her ear - she can feel how hard he is as he rubs up against her bum.

“Please, H,” YN whines impatiently, spreading her legs a bit further and pushing back until he snugs inbetween her cheeks.

“Yeah, s’okay. Let me give it to you,” Harry murmurs as he bends his knees a bit and grips her waist to position her until he’s slipping into her warm heat.

“Yes, shit,” She huffs as he begins a delicious pace that isn’t to fast but hard, enough that she has to focus on keeping her footing.

“Tha’s it. It’s all yours, take it, darlin’,” He encourages as he slams in with determination, hand reaching around to hold onto her breast.

“Baby,” YN moans loudly, echoing over the pounding water and echos throughout the room, “Fuck, that’s good.”

“God, y’so sexy. How’d I fuckin’ get you?” Harry hisses, he tugs her leg up and really starts fucking in until she’s screaming with pleasure as she orgasms.

Then he’s following behind with a few more directed thrusts until he’s spilling inside her - she can feel his ribcage expanding and deflating with each heavy pant of air.

“Mm, cuddle time now?” He asks innocently, like he wasn’t just spewing filth and fucking her brains out a minute ago.

“Y’in charge of scrubbing me since you insist on coming in me, then we can watch that new movie on Netflix, okay?”

Harry smiles boyishly, nuzzling her damp cheek.

“Y’act like it’s a hardship to wash up m’pretty lil’ wife. C’mon, spread ‘em.”

-

They’re halfway through the movie when YN pops her head up off Harry’s chest, “Can we go to that ice cream place down the street?”

Harry, who was admittedly dozing off, rasps out, “Y’want to go right now?”

“Please? They have fudge mint chocolate chip,” She gives him the best pouty lips that has him groaning but still agreeing.

“I’m only sayin’ yes because y’put out earlier,” He jokes as he tugs on his trainers and then his puffer jacket.

“You would have taken me if I hadn’t,” YN points out as she tugs on her own shoes.

He tries to conceal his fond smile but fails, “You’re right, still give you everything you wanted if you didn’t.”

-

Cameron was hallucinating, she was sure of it because when she steps in Big Scoops with her parents after a basketball game.

Harry fucking Styles and his wife are standing in front of him.

Holy shit.

She was trying to contain her fangirling as they stand right in front of her in line to get ice cream, like…what?

Cameron also completely regrets not turning in her chemistry essay because that earned her an F which in turn had her parents take away her phone.

She couldn’t document this moment.

YN and Harry both looked tired, Harry was standing behind his wife with his arms around her shoulders in a bear hug.

“Do you think they’ll give you a discount or a freebie?” YN asks her husband in a sweet, teasing tone.

“Y’have said that joke for the last eleven years and it hasn’t gotten any funnier,” He chuckles but it was with affection and tone like he found it funny but didn’t want to admit it.

“M’sleepy,” YN murmurs, a yawn following the statement - she turns around in his arms and hugs him, arms around his middle.

Harry waddles them forward when the line moves and she giggles cutely into his chest.

They were just so fucking cute.

“We can sleep in tomorrow,” Harry reminds her, quietly like he knows people might be listening to them, “Sound good, pet?”

“Mm,” She agrees, turning to order when it’s their turn and then Harry does - he steps forward to hand them his card and Cameron sees him sneak a fifty in the tip jar.

The teens behind the counter ask for a group picture which Harry agrees to but Cameron notices that the genuine, happy smile that he had for his wife contorts into a more tense, forced one.

She couldn’t really blame him. He was just trying to get a late night snack with his spouse before his show the next day.

Cameron notices that when they thank him and separate that YN rubs his back in reassurance and guides him out of the shop protectively.

She hears her murmur, “I know. Let’s go home, bub.”

She decides not to blast the encounter all over social media because tonight made him seem so much more human.

-

Lucy finds it to be such an odd experience, seeing Harry on stage the next night because of how she saw him the day before.

He was such a bright light on stage as he shimmied and danced like he was having them time of his life up there.

She is towards the back of the pit, when the show begins and YN trails out with Jeff and Tommy - Lucy makes eye contact with YN.

And to her utter surprise, YN beckons her over as Harry transitions into Only Angel, his wife yells over the music.

“Were you at the pizza shop yesterday?” YN asks curiously, leaning over the barricade.

Lucy is surprised by the fact that YN remembered her (she did have very distinct thick framed glasses and her hair was dyed electric blue so…).

She nods, starstruck, YN was even more beautiful close-up and her outfit fit her body perfectly, big engagement ring shining in the lights. ***(pretend the color matches his outfit).

“I just want to thank you for not blasting our business all over the internet, truly, thank you,” YN replies sincerely, a soft smile made Lucy feel welcome and less nervous.

Lucy had to take a moment to find her voice, “Y-you’re welcome, you guys deserve privacy just like the rest of us.”

YN turns to say something to Jeff that Lucy cannot hear and then she faces her again with an envelope in her hand.

“Two pit tickets, for tomorrow nights show,” YN informs her as she hands the shaking girl the item - ignoring all the other fans recording their interaction.

“Wha- are you?” Lucy stutters out in absolute disbelief - she had to be dreaming or something, instead she puts her foot in her mouth and chokes out, “Can I give you a hug?”

YN doesn’t think twice before she’s shooing off the security guards and reaching out to give her a tight hug.

Lucy pulls back, she happens to glance at the stage where Harry is staring at them intently - attempting to seem engaged in singing but he is watching protectively to make sure everything’s okay.

When YN and him make eye contact, she rolls her eyes at his watchfulness which makes him give her a dimpley smile and blow them a kiss.

Yeah, Lucy just won at life.

Sometime treating people with kindness really does pay off.

Masterlist

* indicates smut/18+

» Harry Talk Tag

» Harry Astrology Talk / Harry Styles Astrology Compatibility Masterpost 

» Harry MBTI Talk

» Texts with Harry

Harry’s night out

Harry and the Quokka

Harry can see you waking up in his t-shirt

Harry doesn’t like waking up alone

Harry’s never one to follow the law

Harry’s a little jealous

Harry the Piping Plover

Harry just wants a taste*

Harry’s mustache needs some work

Harry wants you safe

Harry misses Sprout

» Harry Lists

50 Things I’m Convinced Harry Styles Does: A List

50 Things I’m Convinced Harry Styles Does (in bed): A Fluffy List

50 Things I’m Convinced Harry Styles Does (in bed): A Smutty List*

50 Things I’m Convinced Harry Styles Does as a New Dad: A List

» Drabble Challenge

“I don’t want you to stop.”*

“Stop being so cute.”

“Show me what’s behind your back.” and “No. Regrets.”

“How drunk was I?”* (3k+)

» Standalone One Shots/Imagines

Some Like it Hot* (5k+)

Make It Like Your Birthday Every Day* (3k+)

Love You Most* (5k+)

Ruin You* (7k+)

Nine Months* (17k+)

» Miniseries

She’s Just Not That Into You  »  complete ✓

Part I

Part II

Part III*

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

what about H playing with your boobs

What about this playing with my emotions 🙃

Listen..,.,.,he’d love it. Sucking on your nipples, tonguing at them lightly, flicking just the tip against them to tease you. And then he’s full on lapping at them with the thick of his tongue, feeling them get perky under his rough tastebuds.

His head ducked down to your chest as you sit against the headboard with a hand clutching the hair at the nape of his neck, eyeing him hazily as he sucks one entirely into his mouth, his huge hand cupping and massaging the other with his cold, chunky rings catching on the little bud and sending your spine shivering.

Harry would look up at you through his thick lashes, the damp corners of his swollen crimson lips quirking up in a cheeky simper. He’d hollow out his cheekbones as he sucks, lulling his eyes to the back of his head because he knows what it does to you, moaning all low and whiney. The vibrations wash goosebumps across the supple skin of your breasts, every cell in your body spazzing out of control.

He pulls back, a tiny thread of saliva dipping between his plumped lips and your pebbled nipple. He licks the excess wetness from his mouth, worrying his bottom lip between his two front teeth as he takes your chest into his humungous palms, squeezing both together and smirking softly. “Gonna miss these so much on tour.”

x

Hello, imagine harry biting le tits

ok this was longer than my usual “concepts” also not proofread x

It’s early in the morning. too early for her liking, which is why she snuggles up to Harry closer, their bare chests touching, and she pretends to be asleep still. She hears him yawn, one of his ‘am up, you up?’ yawns that are big and loud and smelly in the morning. He cuddles up to her and pecks her forehead making her whine unintentionally because she just knows her forehead is oily and she doesn’t want to be awake right now. She doesn’t want to be offered weird green juices.

“Sweet girl,” Harry calls, voice still groggy and full of warmness and love.

A hum leaves her mouth when she knows she’s caught and she heard him sniff,

“Mornin,” he tries again, big hands rubbing her warm shoulder as the other is trapped under her body. “Open those pretty eyes so I can say mornin’ properly.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Mmm, such a brat in the mornin’ aren’t you, babe,” he whispers into her hair and fits his head in the crook of her neck, pressing a few kisses there. 

It’s warm and smells like her body lotion still so he opens his mouth and licks a stripe up to her chin, pressing another open mouth kiss there and she whines but this time he knows it means ‘keep going’. 

And he does. He travels his lips down her bare chest and presses another kiss in the middle of her boobs, smiling at the warm skin. “So soft an’ warm in t’mornin’,”

“Smell like sweat probably,” she croaks, hand going up to his hair and running a finger through his soft locks. 

“Nah, y’smell lovely. So, so, so, so lovely.”

He moves to her left boob since it’s more accessible and kisses the top of her breast then opening his mouth and licking a stripe down to her nipple. It’s already hard and he knows she’s also wet under the sheets. 

“Jesus, aren’t you lovely,” he moans at the sight of her boobs and finally gets his warm mouth around the hard nipple, alternating between sucking and licking as she moans and tries to get close to him as if it were possible. “Your tits, god, I love them. I love you.”

She whines and Harry sucks harder, then grinds his teeth sore nipple still in his mouth. It feels so soft and good inside his mouth that he feels his morning wood get harder and harder at the feeling and she hisses when he bites the nipple hard.

“Ah! Harry!”

“Mmm, wha’,” he presses a wet kiss on her nipple. “Sorry sweetheart, just love your tits. Wanna eat them.”

“Ugh cannibalism doesn’t get me off. Get off.”

“Noooo, wanna love on you a bit more, bub.”

“Leave my tits alone and work that tongue on my pussy instead.”

GET IT KING

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

Ok well can I suck anthrorry off while he’s eating his take out?

the feminine urge to deepthroat the hot liberal arts phd student with bad vision, a pretty smile, and a bad attitude </3

Y/N sitting beside him on the couch, watching him hunch over a bit as he shovels lo mein into his mouth like he hasn’t had a meal in days, using the end of the chopsticks to push his glasses up his nose as his sharp jaw flexes alluringly with his chewing. Despite the fact that Harry’s attention is glued to the ancient artifacts flickering across the screen of his TV, he can still feel her staring at the side of his head intently, and he lets it go on for a few more seconds before he finally intervenes. He glances over at her with his cheeks puffed out with food, his eyebrows raising curiously as he talks through a full mouth. “Can I help you?”

Y/N’s fingers halt their motions, freezing in place from where they had been playing with a loose thread hanging from the couch pillow cradled in her lap. Her response dismissive and airy. “No, I’m alright.”

Harry swallows the bite he’d been working on, blinking at her in an unconvinced fashion. “Then why are you glaring at me like I shat on your favorite copy of The Crucible?”

Y/N casts her eyes towards the ceiling in mild amusement at his vulgarity, returning her gaze onto him with a flat expression weighing down her features, refusing to let him see even a sliver of the genuine fondness she holds for his antics. “I wasn’t glaring, I was observing.”

“That was some intense observing, then.” He huffs, picking up a vegetable dumpling from the black plastic container snuggled inside the hole between his crossed legs, dipping it in its designated sauce before stretching his arm towards her across the sofa, wiggling the appetizer temptingly. “Dumpling?”

Y/N’s lips twitch with endearment as she glances between Harry and his offering. “I’m good, thank you. Already stuffed myself full of noodles.”

“Your loss.” He shrugs his brows indifferently, shoving the dumpling into his own mouth instead before reaching for his drink. “Golden Palace makes the best. The best Chinese food in general, actually. I’d slut myself out for Mei’s sesame chicken.”

“Isn’t Mei, like, seventy?”

Harry waves his bottle around apathetically. “What’s your point?”

The sincerity behind his demeanor is utterly comical, and Y/N has to purse her lips in order to avoid bursting into laughter. “You’d pimp yourself out to someone’s grandma for a serving of chicken?”

“Not just any serving of chicken,” Harry motions to her correctively with the neck of the glass cup, “Mei’s chicken. I’d whore myself out for the egg drop soup, too.” Harry’s brows suddenly cinch downwards as some unspoken inconvenience, and he sucks at his teeth in disappointment as he brings the beverage up to his mouth. “I should’ve ordered a bowl. Remind me to next time we visit.”

Next time we visit. Y/N doesn’t know why, but the way he’d so casually included her into his narrative— the way he’d nonchalantly suggested that he sees them getting takeout together again sometime soon, as if it should be obvious that they’ll be spending more time with one another for the foreseeable future— makes her stomach knot into a silk bow. She’d love nothing more than to make this type of quality time a regular occurrence; she could watch him moan over egg rolls forever, honestly, as long it’s him. And Chinese food escapades aside, she loves how much she’s learned about him in the past couple of weeks as they’ve gotten closer. She loves noticing new little details about him every time they hang out, because it feels weirdly intimate somehow. From an outside perspective, Harry appears so regal and blasé, and due to this, she initially figured that getting to know him would be a challenge; getting him to open up seemed like it would be as easy as prying an iron door open with her bare hands. But since they’ve met, she’s been proven wrong in the most pleasantly unexpected manner yet.

Y/N has slowly begun to take notice of the little things regarding Harry, which has helped her build a profile on him that she can reference whenever she’s alone and finds herself daydreaming about being in his company instead. One of the first things she’d learned about him is that he doesn’t take sugar in his coffee or tea; he only likes honey, for the added earthy notes it brings to the table, and because it’s how his mother used to make him warm drinks when he was young. His favorite flavor of ice cream is cookie dough, but he’s a strong advocate for mint chocolate chip, as well, despite the controversy that surrounds the flavor (“It doesn’t taste like toothpaste, people just have immature palates. Just admit you have the tastebuds of a two year old and move on.”) He abhors sweaty hands, and sleeping with socks on, and 0.9 mm mechanical lead pencils because, “the lead is way too thick and makes my handwriting look like utter shit. It’s especially hard to write lowercase Es because of that tiny space in the loop. I just use pens, and when I do use pencils, I stick strictly to 0.5 lead. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Harry color coordinates his closet and drawers, he arranges bookshelves in alphabetical order, and he has to take melatonin supplements periodically in order to regulate his sleep schedule, but he despises swallowing pills so he buys the gummies instead. But he doesn’t eat the green ones, he says they taste like sewage. He uses a tea tree oil and rosemary shampoo because he likes the way it makes his scalp tingle, and he types faster on his phone than on his laptop, so he does a lot of his coursework on his device and then edits it on his computer. He opens the balcony door when it rains because he likes smell of the wet trees, and he likes the rumble of thunderstorms as long as they’re distant and nothing extreme. He hates sourdough bread, he loves goat cheese and raspberry marmalade on his toast— not jam, marmalade, because apparently there’s a significant difference— and his favorite comfort food is pho from that restaurant that’s a five minute walk down the street. He can’t sit or sleep in a silent room; the suffocating deafness of it drives him insane, so he always turns his fan on from the second he gets home to the moment he leaves, that way there’s always some background static present to keep him from going mental.

He likes sleeping naked, though he always keeps a pair of clean boxers folded neatly on his nightstand beside his glasses so he can pull them on first thing in the morning. The smell of citrus Lysol makes him physically sick to the point of gagging, courtesy of when he drank some as a child after mistaking the liquid for lemonade. He’d been rushed to the emergency room and had his stomach pumped, which resulted in his distaste for hospitals, as well. His favorite flavor of soda is pineapple, but not the Fanta kind. He likes a brand of Mexican soda called Jarritos, and he’s been buying it from the same small Mexican market for the last four years, since it’s the only place relatively near him that carries it. He frequents the store so often for the same product that the owner— Eduardo— had eventually begun to set aside a box of that specific flavor just for him, for when he comes around to restock at the end of the week. Y/N had called it an unhealthy obsession, but he claims it’s just “customer loyalty.” Leave it to him to come up with the perfect philosophy to weasel himself out of trouble.

Harry’s voice breaks her from her thoughts. “You’re observing me again.”

Y/N blinks back into reality, mumbling a gentle apology under her breath as she admires the handsome— yet insufferably smug— grin painting itself across her companion’s face, highlighting his defined cheekbones and the dimples that wink into existence at the corners of his mouth. He looks so pretty, and she gets the sudden overwhelming urge to smother him in kisses until he can’t breathe, just to watch him giggle and scrunch his face at her doting. That wholesome instinct quickly molds into something much more crass, however, when he shifts his legs out from under him, slouching deeper into the couch as he spreads his thick thighs open suggestively. His lean tummy ripples with his actions, his strong chest heaving slightly as he maneuvers himself into a comfortable, exposed position that leaves his intentions open for interpretation.

Harry reaches forward and sets down his container of half-finished food, tossing both of his arms over the backrest of his sofa as his hips burrows into the cushions below, his biceps flexing as he folds one up to bring his drink to his mouth. He tucks the rim past his lips, tilting the bottle up and taking a slow swig of the pineapple beverage, his Adam’s Apple bobbing almost mockingly as the entrancing jade of his eyes twinkles at her sultrily over the end of the glass jug. He removes the spout with a wet pop, using the knuckle of his forefinger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, balancing the bifocals accordingly to get a good look at her through the lens. Y/N can tell her neediness has leaked into her appearance from the way he addresses her next, cracking a sly smirk as he locks gazes with her deeply for a prolonged second, proceeding to then glimpse down at where her thighs are clasped together tightly. His accent comes out low and throaty, just how he knows she likes it. “Wanna come sit on my lap? We can cuddle while we watch the rest of the documentary. Or we can make-out. Your choice.”

In that moment, Y/N decides that playing into his little charade isn’t within the scope of her patience right now. So instead, she decides to drop any act of civility she has left and voices her thoughts in a clear and unapologetic manner, with absolutely no remorse in sight. “What I want is to suck you off.”

Much to her surprise— and irritation— Harry doesn’t seem even the slightest bit fazed by her straightforward crudeness. In fact, the way in which he shrugs one shoulder easily and tilts his head to the side knowingly gives off the impression that he was expecting this type of reaction from her, and that only grates her even further. He knows how much she wants him, and yet he continues to toy with her like she’s a fucking doll set out for his entertainment, making her fold and bend to his will just so she can get a chance to experience whatever it is he promised, which will come after they’re acquainted enough to his liking. And as much as she hates this evil little waiting game he has going, she can’t deny how attractive she finds it, and it’s nearly enough to drive her mad.

Harry rumbles a quiet, concise hum in her direction, batting his lashes at her teasingly as he taps his pinky against the bottle in his large hand, pressing his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I know you do, sweetheart. It’s kinda cute, honestly.”

Y/N’s cheeks burst with heat at the condescension behind his tone. “That I want to suck you off?”

“How desperate you are to do it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are.”

“Why?” He gives her an artificial pout, oversaturating his words with a sugary lilt just to taunt her emotions. “Because I won’t let you fuck me?”

“Because you’re making me wait as some twisted form of entertainment.”

“It’s a bit fun, though, innit?” Harry motions between them vaguely, his two front teeth digging into his lush bottom lip. “This little back and forth thing with have going? I push, you pull, you push, I pull, so on and so forth. I leave bruises all over your neck with my teeth, but stop when I reach the collar of your shirt. You leave hickeys down my stomach, but have to stop when you reach the waistband of my trousers. I grab your ass while we’re kissing, but refuse to spank it even when you beg me to. You grind against me and feel me get hard between your legs, but you know you won’t be able to do anything about it so you just have to accept whatever you get and handle the rest on your own. It’s good build-up, I think. It’s gonna make it worth the wait.”

Now Y/N is actually doing what he’d accused her of doing earlier: glaring at him. “Bold of you to assume I’ll stick around that long, considering how often you get on my nerves.”

Harry belts out a confident laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re not going anywhere, Austen. We both know that.”

She tilts her chin up in a spiteful challenge. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because if you were serious, you would have left ages ago.” Harry spreads his legs even further apart, drawing her attention to his groin, exactly as intended. Even in his briefs, she can’t tell he’s well-endowed, and she can’t stop the way her mouth begins to water on impulse. “S’kinda funny.”

“What is?”

“How you’re dick-whipped when you’ve yet to receive any.”

“Get fucked.”

“We’ll see.”