#38 Thank You So Much For Making This For Us! 💕💕

#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.

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

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watermelon6ugar

3 years ago

N. 17 “Fucking try me.” PLEASE

Fucking Try Me

17. “Fucking try me.”

Based off of this ask

Prompt List

A/N: This is so hot I can’t even function. You’re welcome🥴🥵 Enjoy🙃

You and Harry had a great and VERY active sex life. So active that Jeff has walked into many of your not so private rendezvous. The two of you couldn’t get enough of each other and if you needed each other, you just did it. Didn’t matter where you were, if you wanted each other, you were going to find a way.

A few nights ago, the two of you were invited out to dinner with Jeff and Glenne. But just as you were about to head downstairs to leave, Harry comes out of the bathroom and catches a glimpse of your outfit for the evening.

“I hope you weren’t planning on us just leaving and not let me fuck you.”

“Well if we are going to fuck, can you bend me over the couch? It’ll make it easier for us to leave afterwards.” You exit out of the room, with a needy Harry right behind you. The two of you then proceeded down the stairs to which you were almost immediately bent over the arm of your couch. Your jeans and panties were pulled all the way down to your ankles and Harry’s mouth was on you. Normally you wouldn’t be into spitting. But with Harry it was like you needed it all of the time. You couldn’t get enough of him spitting on you. Whether it be in your mouth or on your pussy, you absolutely loved it. You were already wet, because how could you not be when you were around Harry? Just for him to spit on both of your holes; you were completely dripping.

For the next 15 minuets, the sounds of Harry’s skin harshly slapping against yours and your combined moans resonate through the otherwise quiet house. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed his hips into yours, causing you to dig your nails into the couch cushions. By the time you two left the house, your once perfectly curled hair was now straight and sweaty, you were walking on wobbly legs, and you smelled like sex, pure, raw sex. And on top of all that, you were 15 minuets late. You and Harry strolled onto the restaurant slightly disheveled, with an underlying sex smell which the two of you did your best to mask; well you did at least. Harry on the other hand wore it like a badge of honor so to speak.

“Look who decided to show up” Jeff says as you and Harry approach the table.

“I’m so sorry were late, we got held up.” You rush sitting in front of the couple.

“How was it?” Jeff teases, alluding to the real reason why you and Harry were late.

“Why do you always assume we’re just having sex?” Harry questions, even though in the back of his mind he already knows the answer. Glenne and Jeff break out into laughter across from you guys.

“Because you guys are always having sex” Jeff says matter of factly, still laughing at Harry’s previous statement.

“No were not” you jump in, even though you know he may have a point.

“Y/n, I love you guys, I really do. But you act like sex-crazed teenagers”

“No we do not” Harry tries.

“Almost every time we’re together, I’m either walking in or about to walk in on you guys.” The table goes silent. All of you knowing what Jeff said was completely true. “I don’t think you guys could go a whole day without going at it” he challenges.

“I could, this one couldn’t” you reply

“Weren’t you the one who was all over me yesterday?” Harry questions, already knowing that you were the one who was literally crawling onto his lap every five minuets.

“Well weren’t you the one who made us late” you shut him down instantly with the undeniable truth.

“Well let’s just agree on this, you wouldn’t be able to last more than a day” he challenges you.

“Fucking try me.”

“Challenge accepted” he sticks his hand out to shake on it, but you leave him hanging. Which causes Jeff and Glenne to burst into laughter again. “She just knows she’s gonna lose, that’s all.” he chuckles, shaking his head at you.

Fast forward 3 days later and the two of you are doing everything you can to make the other break. Whether it be Harry brushing past you in the kitchen, pressing his front into you from behind, or you bending over right in front of him. Both of you were dying over the lack of intimacy between the two of you. Now outsiders may wonder how you guys survive while Harry’s on tour if you can barely make it through three days. Well the answer to that is simple. The two of you could survive Harry being on tour because you guys weren’t around each other. Hence the reason why the two of you are always going at it; because you just couldn’t get enough of each other. In Harry’s opinion, the mere sight of you made him want to take you on any nearby surface.

He didn’t think it would be so bad at first, but he was sadly mistaken. And he realized his mistake as soon as he got home the first night. The two of you went about your normal routine, the two of you changed and got ready for bed like usual. Only this time, Harry was going crazy. Seeing you bent over the bathroom sink in his t-shirt doing your nighttime routine was driving him up the walls. When you hopped into bed you gave Harry a kiss goodnight and it literally felt like sparks of electricity were flowing through his body. On top of that, sometimes before bed Harry would push his cock inside you. He loved having you wrapped around him and you loved how full you felt with him inside of you, so it just made sense. Instead, Harry had to sleep next to you, more like pressed against you from behind instead of inside of you. He was starting to regret his decision.

Harry wasn’t the only one though, you were starting to regret it too. You did fine the first night when you got home, but everyday after that was a struggle. The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, just to find Harry jerking himself off in the shower. You could hear his deep moans and you just wanted to get in with him. You wanted him to push you against the wall and just slam into you. But you couldn’t lose. You really wanted to win this. But it was really hard, it was hard to win a no sex competition when the literal concept of sex was walking around your home. Both of you were hot and bothered and you knew it. Then it had turned into a breaking game. Who was going to break down and give in to their need for the other first? For the next two days, all the two of you did was try and seduce each other. Whether it be you wearing nothing but one of Harry’s shirts and a thin pair of panties around the house, or Harry wearing no underwear under his sweats, giving you the perfect view of his cock. Both of you were trying so hard to have self control but it was getting harder and harder as the days progressed. Night 2 was probably the hardest of them all. As Harry was getting into bed he climbs on top of you and he smears his lips onto yours. He wraps his arms around your back, pulling you against his body, pressing his bulge against you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him more into you. Your spontaneous make out session continues, embracing the fact that this was the only action both of you had received for the past two days almost. Your make out comes to an abrupt end when Harry pulls away and rolls over onto his side of the bed. He says a quick goodnight to you and he presses a kiss to your cheek before turning out the lights. Leaving you wide awake and turned on.

The next day went just like the others. You get up, and you go through the day trying your hardest to get one another to cave in. These things went from slight brushes against each other to spontaneous make outs. It was as if you both found a loophole in your bet. Both of you indirectly rationed that making out wasn’t breaking any of the terms of the bet, it was just relieving some of the sexual frustration the two of you had built up within the past few days. Throughout the day at random, you’d be pressed between the wall or any other surface of the house and Harry. His lips would be smeared against yours and his hardened cock would be pressed against you. Your fingers would be tangled in his curls and you’d release soft whimpers into his mouth. Even though it wasn’t close to actually having sex with Harry, you would take anything you could get.

Now at first Harry was confident that you were going to be the first one to cave in. But he was sadly mistaken. As much as he would have liked to win the bet, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

You and Harry were now approaching the end of the third day of your bet. The two of you were laying on the couch with your legs stretched across his lap. The two of you were comfortably watching some show on Netflix Harry suggested. You guys were doing good, keeping your sexual desires at bay. That was until the coveted sex scene comes. The fact that the characters in the show were getting more action than both of you were drove you and Harry crazy. Mainly Harry though. The way the woman in the show reacted to the pleasure she was receiving made Harry hard all over again. All he could think about was the way you responded to him when he fucked you. The way you whimper when you feel his cock stretching your walls. The way you grip onto the sheets as he thrusts his cock into you, going so deep you could feel him in your tummy. The way your head thrashed against any surface you were pressed against. Even the way you practically begged him to fill you up. All of these filthy thoughts were flooding into his mind, just from the simple sex scene on the screen in front of him. He looks over to you and he sees you and he sees how your eyes are locked in on the tv. He could see how bad you wanted him, simply from the way you were biting your lip, and the not so subtle way you were clenching your thighs.

Harry couldn’t do it anymore. He stands up from the couch, and he bends down, pulling you up and over his shoulder. He tunes out all of your protests and questions to his sudden actions and he takes you both upstairs to the bedroom. Harry tosses you down onto the bed and he gawks over your body. He wastes no time, ripping your panties down your legs. He pulls your shirt off and he spreads your legs. He pushes you further up the bed, pushing his head between your spread legs. In that moment all of the need you had built up in the past few days came rushing back to you. As much as you would have liked to have his mouth on you, you needed him inside of you even more.

“I need you inside of me so bad” you tug at his hair. He looks up towards you and he sees the needy, and desperate look in your eye. He pushes up off of the bed and he peels his boxers off of his hips. As soon as he does, his painfully hard cock slaps against his lower stomach. The crown of his cock is so red, it looked as if it was about to burst. His shaft looked thicker than normal and the veins running up from his balls to his head were larger and more prominent than usual. You couldn’t get the thought of how those veins would feel rubbing against your walls. By now you were throbbing for his cock. Harry climbs back onto the bed and he positions himself between your legs.

“Tell me I won” you pant, feeling the thick head of his cock nudging between your lips, prodding at your tight hole.

“You won baby” he groans, dropping his head into the space between your neck and your shoulder. One hand grips your waist, holding you still beneath him, and the other grips his cock, slowly pushing further into you.

“You’re so big” you whimper feeling his girth stretch you out so good. You didn’t know if you had a pain kink, but you did know that you loved the sting that came with Harry pushing his cock into you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you feel him begin to move inside of you. The two of you could only gasp, neither being able to express how good you both felt in words. The only word you could get out was “harder”. You were dying to feel his cock slam into you. You wanted him to pin you against the mattress and just pound into you.

As soon as it left your mouth Harry instantly pulled out of you. He flipped you onto your stomach and he spread your legs as wide as possible. He grips onto his cock and he lines himself up with your entrance. Without any warning Harry slams into you again, and he doesn’t slow down. His hips continuously crash into yours, sending shockwaves through your body. He hears your whimpers and he sees you falling apart in front of him. He watches you grasping at anything you could.

“Fuckin tight” he growls pining your hands above your head. He then presses his upper body into your back, pressing you further into the bed.

“You’re so deep” you gasp, feeling him going so deep inside of you could feel him in your tummy.

“Y’like me deep inside yeh baby? Y’like feeling me in y’little tummy baby? Like feelin’ nice and full” he pants, laying further into your back.

“Mhm” you whimper “m’gonna cum” you mewl. This made Harry slam into you even harder than before. You felt his cock nudging the soft spongy spot deep inside of you. “Fuck” you whimper, clenching tightly around his cock.

“Cum f’me baby. Cum ‘round my cock sweet girl” he pants, feeling his own release catching up with him.

“Oh my god” you scream feeling your release crash down onto you. Harry could feel your juices coating his cock and he knew for sure you were dripping onto the sheets. He feels his own release catching right up to him. He slams into you one more time, filling you to the hilt, and stilling inside you. His grip on your wrists tighten as he fills you up with his cum. You can feel spurt after spurt of his cum flowing into you. Once he’s released every last drop of his cum inside of you, he slowly pulls out of you.

“Squeeze f’me baby. Wan’ yeh to keep it all inside.” He mumbles into your ear. He slowly pulls out of you and he sees some of his cum begin to spill out of you. He swipes at your pussy and scoops up some of his cum, and he pushes it past his lips. The taste of his cum mixed with your juices was intoxicating to him, it was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. Harry falls back onto the bed next to you and he pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead. You lay your head on his chest and the two of you lay there together, silently reminiscing on the amazing sex the both of you just had. Despite the great sex you just had, the both of you could go again. You both were making up for the morning, afternoon, and evening sex the two of you missed out on for the last few days.

“Do you think we’re sex addicts?” Harry whispers, breaking the silence and staring up at the ceiling.

“I think both of us just ooze sex, and we just happen to be addicted to each other” you reason playing with his necklace.

“So yes” he chuckles, lightly scratching at the back of your neck.

“Y’wanna go again?”

“I thought you’d never ask” he chuckles, pulling you on top of him. “How about you let me get a taste first” he smirks, sticking his tongue out towards you.

You and Harry were going to have a sit down conversation with Jeff. Because neither you or Harry were going to be slowing down anytime soon, so Jeff was just going to have to suck it up. Maybe you and Harry could get a do not disturb sign? Or a sock on the door handle?

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watermelon6ugar

3 years ago

I wanna get railed so bad while wearing one of his Styles embroidered shirts

short but explicit 🤭 ***nsfw warning

(also this isn’t set in covid times.....don’t go out for brunch, even Harry wants to rail you in the bathroom! stay home instead!!)

Harry's shirt is rumpled his hand at the small of your back, the fabric wrinkling into angry creases in his clenched fist. His thrusts are coming so hard and frantic that you have to grab onto the faucet for leverage. His eyes travel down to where your tits bounce beneath his top. Your body jolts with his every trust, his surname egging him on from the left breast. He groans at the sight, watching your flesh spill out of your bra as he fucks you sloppily in the Old Place bathroom.

"Fucking shit,” Harry breathes, stilling his hips for a moment. His heart is slamming hard against his chest, his breath shortened and begging for a moment of rest. You gasp at the fullness as he stays buried to his hilt, his hands knotting into his own sweaty hair, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s overwhelmed, trying to keep it together as the heat of your bodies begins to steam up the mirror.

But he’s taking too long and your body already misses the weight of his over yours and the keen rhythm of his hips. You whine, sliding your hands to the edge of the counter top. He moans as he slips out, one hand instinctively reaching to pull the hem on your back away so his view remains unobstructed.

You reach between your bodies, squeezing the head of his cock and smirking over your shoulder when he moans a little too loudly. You break your soft laughter to taunt him with a quiet ‘shhh’ as you line him up again. A low hum rumbles in his chest from behind you as you found a similar tempo to before, throwing your ass back to meet the gentle flick of his pelvis that, at this point, you’re pretty sure is involuntary.

One more sly glance to him over your shoulder and his weight is pushed over you again, one hand reaching around you spread your slick over your center to knead velvety circles over your clit. The sound of skin slapping is so loud and overwhelming that you’re positive it’s echoing down the small, empty hallway and into the private dinning room all your friends are sat in.

“Fuck, there! Fuck!” you gasped. “Make me come.” It’s a subtle demand, one you know he'll always rise to, said breathlessly as your knees threatened to buckle.

You surrender to that jelly feeling in your legs, landing on your elbows against the counter, relying on his arm around your middle to keep you steady. A sinful cry springs from your mouth and you feel like statics taken over your brain as he brings you to the edge.

He mouths at your shoulder as he comes too, leaving open mouth kisses against your skin. He grabs your face gently in one of his big hands, tilting your mouth to meet his for a feverish kiss. You realize its the first and only one of your rendezvous so you press yourself closer to him. The hungry flare between you has quickly died down and the kiss turns sweet before he pulls out.

Harry reaches over, gathering some paper towels from the dispenser and offering them to you with a peck to your cheek. As you reach between your legs to clean yourself off, his attention wanders back down to the reflection of his second name on your breast. You haven’t had the chance to adjust your bra back and its enough to make all his thoughts go back straight to his cock. For a split second, he reckons he just needs a big glass of water and, maybe, a light fondle before he’s already ready to go again.

But the annoyed look you shoot him as you throw the wad of towels away is enough to snap him and his dick back into reality.

“Should wear it more often,” he nods to the shirt, his fingers tugging on the line of buttons down the front. “Drives me mad.”

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watermelon6ugar

2 years ago

hi! can i request a blurb where harry’s gf is a surfer and gets attacked by a shark while he’s on tour? idk i’ve just been really into shark videos and harry is <3 so caring so kind

“Where is she? Where—well, which fucking room?”

The sound of the loud, angry, and incredibly British request trickling into the small hospital room brings a flush to your cheeks.

You had anticipated his outrage, but you can’t quite say you’re prepared to face the wrath of Scary Harry.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” is the first thing out of his mouth as his eyes land on where you’re tucked into bed.

Offering a sheepish smile, you scoot further under the covers, calling a timid, “Don't be mad, okay?”

“Don’t be—” A scoff. Incredulous. He moves further into the room before flinging his incredibly sparkly jacket into one of the tiny chairs near the wall. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Well—" Your smile widens, which only aids in further exaggerating his fury. “Oh, relax. I’m fine—”

“I told you not fucking go,” he reminds you before running a hand through the once perfectly styled curls atop his head. Now, they’re disheveled and falling onto his forehead as he tugs. “I—shit.”

“Harry,” you repeat, straightening up once again as you bite back a laugh. “I am fine. He barely got my arm—”

“Oh, really?” A bitter snort, and soon, he’s reaching his fingers around your wrist to pry your arm from the bed and into the air between you.

Your eyes fall toward the bandage wrapped around your elbow as he thrusts his chin forward.

“They don’t just give out band-aids for no fucking reason unless it’s medically necessary.” He leans back. Point proven.

Your eyes narrow. “Okay, well, it’s not a band-aid. It’s gauze.” You tug your hand free. “And second…it’s a little scratch and it’s gonna leave a bitchin’ scar. So, I don’t really see—”

“Do you know how fucking scary it was to get told you had been taken to the hospital?” His words are sharp. Irate. And you can feel the guilt slowly creeping its way up your neck. “Just coming down for a pee and Jeff says, ‘Oh, hey, by the way. A shark tried to bite her fucking arm off and now she might be dead.’”

The urge to laugh becomes stronger, and as Harry watches you tug your lip between your teeth, his scowl deepens.

“This isn’t fucking funny.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you exhale, reaching out to grab his fingers and encourage him to sit on the bed beside you. “But…Jeff is incredibly dramatic. It didn’t try to eat me, it just—”

“I told you not to go,” Harry is quick to remind you, and you reward him with an exasperated huff.

“Yes, I’m aware. But in my defense…you were supposed to be there with me. So I could teach you how to get better—”

“Right, and then I’d get eaten.” His tone is bitter, but his eyes are alive with relief. “I don’t need to get better at surfing. That’s your specialty. My specialty is—”

“Is peeing in buckets under the stage, yes, I know,” you can’t help but tease, mostly in an attempt to smooth out that frown.

However, the only thing you truly succeed in doing is forcing another scoff from his throat as he leans away from you.

Oops.

“Har,” you whine now, extending your hands once more to try and tug him back to your side. “Come on, don’t be such a baby. I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m fine. I promise.”

His eyes are focused on the wall adjacent to the bed. Brows pulled together. Jaw clenching as his arms cross in front of his chest.

Like a little child.

And the sight brings a warm feeling to your chest. You scoot a tad closer now, moving onto your knees until you can crawl to his side and wrap your arms around his neck.

He keeps his head turned away.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” you whisper, ghosting your lips over his cheek. His breath hitches. You feel his resolve slowly start to crumble beneath your touch. “I promise I’m all right. And I promise I won’t swim there ever again. Ever, ever.”

“And?” He expects more.

You pause, lashes fluttering as you attempt to recall his previous warnings. “Uh…and I promise to wear skimpier bathing suits?”

His eyes roll. “No. I mean…yeah, but no.”

You sink down further into the mattress as you think. “Um…promise let you be Ariel and wear the coconut bra?”

His head turns. “Seriously?”

You set the laugh free as you press a kiss to his tensed shoulder. “M’sorry, baby. Okay, what? What else am I missing?”

A beat. His muscles tighten as he glares at the dingy hospital floor beneath his glittery boots.

And you wait, fingers rubbing soft circles into his skin until he sighs, and glances back over his shoulder. “Don’t fucking do dangerous shit when I can’t be there to help you.”

Oh.

Your eyes soften, now understanding his reaction. You’ve had this conversation many times. Perhaps too many, although clearly it didn’t stick very well.

It’s not that he’s upset with your surfing. In fact, he adores it. Every aspect of it. The way your face lights up when you catch the perfect wave. The way you call to him from your board as he waits on the shore. The way you reenact the Baywatch running scene whenever asked.

But there have been times, like tonight, when your tendency to go looking for trouble overlaps with his schedule.

And he’s never felt more helpless than knowing he’s trapped on a stage while you wait for him to save you.

Which, you had argued, wasn’t the case. Because you didn’t need him to save you, but you knew that wasn’t really the point, and had quickly agreed.

And then, apparently, immediately forgot.

“Right,” you murmur, reaching up to stroke your thumbs over his rigid jaw.

“No more being stupid when I’m on stage,” he repeats. Firm. Yet laced with fear.

Your smirk rematerializes. You nod. “No more being stupid when you’re on stage.”

Another pause, his eyes flicking between yours before he sighs and reaches for your hip to tug you closer.

Teeth and tongues collide as he melts into your embrace, nearly forcing you onto his lap as you chuckle.

“Don’t do that again,” he whispers after a moment, the request ushered into your bottom lip before he pulls back to bury his face in your neck. “Shit, please…please don’t do that again. Thought I was gonna fucking die.”

The mood has switched on a dime and your fingers fall to the hair at the nape of his neck as you run your palm down his skin.

“Couldn’t…couldn’t get to you.” His voice is hoarse. Broken. Filled with the guilt of a man carrying the weight of your soul. “Fuck, never been so scared in my life. Thought I was gonna lose you.”

You can feel the burn in the back of your throat as the tears crawl their way up. “I know, Har. M’okay, I promise. Won’t do it again.”

“Good.” A soft kiss to the pulse point below your ear. “Cause I’ll feed you to the shark myself if you do.”

With that, you laugh again, slapping at his arm until he pulls back.

"Were you scared?" A hesitant question. One you're sure he's afraid to know the answer to.

You smile as you run your fingers down his cheek, shaking your head softly. "No. Not really. Maybe for a moment, but I knew I'd be okay. Knew you'd be there for me no matter what happened."

You notice the dark storm behind his eyes at this admission, anticipating the way he's already picturing the worst possible scenario.

"Harry," you warn, offering a stern look. "Don't do that. Fear is nothing more than a tool to help keep you alive. If I hadn't been at least a little afraid of losing you, then I wouldn't have found the strength to swim to shore."

"Shit." An angry hiss, his head attempting to turn away again, but you're quick to keep him focused on you. "Don't fucking tell me shit like that."

"I'm sorry." You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lip, despite your smile. "But it's true. Nothing will ever keep me from you. Not even a big, stupid fish."

He grumbles his misgivings into the gentle kiss but does eventually melt into your touch.

And once he does, and the tense moment has subsided, you let your eyes trail down to his outfit. You’d previously seen photos from Lambert, but now…the real thing. Right in front of your eyes.

Sparkly, pink, and incredibly loud.

“Oh…my gosh.” Your palm flies to your mouth, the right words disappearing into thin air.

On stage, it looks incredible. Perfectly tailored for the show, for the atmosphere, for the crazy antics he and the crowd engage in.

But anywhere else…

“What?” His eyes move down to his chest. “Okay, well, you didn’t see it with the hat. The hat ties the whole thing together.”

Your lips roll into your mouth. “Mhm. Oh, I’m sure.”

“And the boa,” he continues, gesturing toward his neck. “Yeah. Adds some dimension.”

“Yeah.”

“Little spice.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, you’ll see,” he tells you, and your brow quirks up. “Lambi let me borrow it so I could cheer you up while you’re stuck here.”

Well…shit.

“Oh, that’s…that’s so great,” you beam, teeth gritting together as Harry’s smug grin widens.

“Isn’t it? Nurse Harry, here to help.”

“Super.”

His hands move to the mattress, digging into the soft blanket beneath his palms as he leans forward, now incredibly close.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him eye your lips like candy. Nose brushing against your own as you breathe him in, desperate for what he might have in store.

“So…what do you say?” he murmurs, head tilting until you can nearly taste him. “Gonna let me take care of you?”

You smile. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

“Sure thing, Ariel.”

“All right, you know what? I changed my fucking mind, the shark can have you.”

“Harry!”

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watermelon6ugar

3 years ago

Sinners Place

Anna is a twenty-one year old english teacher from Spain whose grown up catholic her entire life. Her mother and Father breathed and lived for one thing only: God. She’s always felt so suffocated when it came to church and had no room to discover anything other than. When surrounded by religious people your entire life, what kind of toll does it take on her mental health when she discovers it was being used as a manipulation tactic? She seeks help in the empty wooden booth of the confessional to wash away all of her sins, but she had no idea what was waiting for her when Father Harry overheard her confess to the one thing she regrets the most in her life.

Chapters List.

***updated weekly - ongoing story on wattpad

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten