Hello, Imagine Harry Biting Le Tits

love at coachella

Description - a journey of the moments that built up to Coachella

A/N - this is a fic dedicated to the monumental moment of harry performing at coachella. i’m so proud and happy for him - he owns the world <3

warnings : smut (only in last entry), swearing, angst

17th June 2020

The call came at 2 A.M. in the morning.

Your head was safely tucked into Harry’s neck as you both slept soundly. Harry’s head rested on top of yours and his tattooed arm cradled you into his side, pulling you as close as comfortably possible. 

“H.” You said softly, the letter barely coming out of your mouth from the morning gruffness. 

You pushed him with the hand on his chest, trying to wake him up from the deep sleep he was clearly in. The touch of your cold hand on his warm chest was enough to wake him up.

“Hmm?” He spoke, clearly confused, before hearing the ring of his phone from the bedside table. “Fuck sake.” He groaned, removing his arm from around you to twist his body over and reach for his phone. 

He lay back down in bed, scooping his arm around you to pull you back onto his chest. He liked having you near him at all times, not having any issues with personal space. If you were sat on a sofa watching a movie together, you were practically sat on top of one another. If you were sat at dinner together, you always sat on the same side of the table. If you were waiting in a queue somewhere, you’d always be within millimetres of one another. You hated space when it came to being with one another. 

“’Lo?” Harry grumbled, his morning voice causing instant butterflies in your stomach.

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.”

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

It’s the truth - Harry Styles blurb

a/n: this one just popped into my head since @pastequeharry​ and I were once again talking about harry’s tiddies (no surprise)

warning: explicitlanguage, basically that’s it 

word count: 483

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“What the fuck?!”

Harry’s deep voice beams through the house and you can’t help the laughter that falls from your lips upon hearing your boyfriend’s reaction to your latest little joke on him. Holding your phone in your hands you hear his naked feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way from the study to the bedroom where you’re lying in bed currently. His tall figure appears at the door and he looks at you with raised eyebrows as he holds up his own phone, the conversation with you open on the screen as he points at it.

“Would you explain why you changed my name to…” He has to check again, just to say it right. “Jumbo tiddies?!”

Now you’re laughing like a hyena, hearing it from his mouth just makes it even more hilarious for you. He is keeping a straight face, trying to make you believe he is upset, but you can see the tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that always come out when he smiles.

“What? It’s just the truth!”

He places his hands to his hips, narrowing his eyes at you as he walks into the room, stopping at the end of the bed.

“You can’t blame me, your tiddies have been all over the internet since last Sunday, I just… had to!”

Harry shakes his head huffing at how much you’re enjoying it. But then he lifts up his phone and starts typing. When his fingers tapping on the screen your phone buzzes in your hand and you gasp at the notification that just popped up.

“You did not just change my name to WAP!”

“Oh, I very much did,” he smirks, so full of himself for getting back at you for the little joke you played on him. “What? It’s the truth! I know, because I’m the one who was knuckles deep in yo—“

“Harry!” you cut him off throwing a pillow in his way, but he just smirks, licking his lips. “Well in that case I know your tiddies are jumbo sized, because I was the one grabbing them last night.”

“And you don’t like them?” he pouts his lips at you.

“Oh no, I love them!” Climbing to the end of the bed you kneel in front of him, wrapping your arms around his torso, placing your head to his chest. “They are perfect, I love your big tits!”

“Aw,” he breathes out, circling his arms around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “And I love your wet ass pussy, Darling.”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud,” you mumble into his chest as he shakes from his laughter.

“You started it,” he answers and you just know he is smirking.

“You are such a baby,” you huff. “My big tiddie baby,” you add, kissing both his pecks.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

Styles & Co.

©   All rights reserved.  © Can also be found on WattPad, HERE

Rated M for Mature audiences: May contain intense violence, sexual content and/or strong language.

Styles & Co.Chapter 1.

Styles & Co.Chapter 2.

Styles & Co.Chapter 3.

Styles & Co.Chapter 4.

Styles & Co.Chapter 5.

Styles & Co.Chapter 6.

Styles & Co.Chapter 7.

Styles & Co.Chapter 8.

Styles & Co.Chapter 9.

Styles & Co.Chapter 10.

Styles & Co.Chapter 11.

Styles & Co.Chapter 12.

Styles & Co.Chapter 13.

Styles & Co.Chapter 14.

Styles & Co.Chapter 15.

Styles & Co.Chapter 16.

Styles & Co.Chapter 17.

Styles & Co.Chapter 18.

Styles & Co.Chapter 19.

Styles & Co.Chapter 20.

Styles & Co.Chapter 21.

Second Book: Sequel.

Styles’ Towers.

Third Book: 

The Rise Of Glory.

Fourth Book: Prequel.

Styles.

Extras:

Styles & Co. || Extras.

All rights reserved.  ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author /publisher.

All writing is purely mine and mine only unless otherwise specified.

I do not give any permission for any content to be reposted on any social media platform but my own.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

What’s sex

horny horny horny thinking about knowing H has to take that pic so you slowly rub your thumb over his slit and jerk him off since the camera can’t see you

You hadn’t been able to keep your hands off him since you both got out of the shower; there’d been too much foreplay within the steamy, dangerously close proximity for you to withhold any longer.

It’d started innocently enough with him helping wash down your back with a sudsy loofah as you massaged shampoo into his sopping curls. He hadn’t meant for it to escalate the way it did— he just wanted it to be a nice couple activity that would help both of you unwind from the recent stressors that had been set on the world’s shoulders.

Harry had pulled you close under the drizzling stream of warm water, working the soapy sponge down the curved line that accentuated the center of your spine, rolling it in lazy circles across the dip of your back. His head had nuzzled into your damp neck, mouth pressing to the mellow pulse, the skin of his lips rubbery and squeaky against your own.

You had squeezed out a decently sized glob of shampoo into the palm of your hand, slowly carding your fingers into his matted ringlets, starting at the nape of his neck and working the product upwards tenderly into his scalp.

The soothing motions of the pads of your digits had made his knees buckle slightly, a gurgley, raw moan elbowing its way out from the back of his throat without his permission. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

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what are your favorite drabbles you've ever done ?

something about harry being nervous to meet your extended family

something about harry fucking you so rough you can barely get up the next morning and he’s a smug little shit about it

something about harry being tired and pouty and begging you to fuck him

something about harry tasting himself after he’s through with you

something about harry having too much fun tempting you throughout the day

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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?

Masterlist

One Is Enough III

HERE Y’ALL FUCKING GO DAMN. HERE, TAKE IT.

Everyone is practically drowning in it now. 

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