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harryistheonlyoneforme · 9 months

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Grumpy*

a/n: trying something new so lmk what you think pls!😚

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding, oral, cum eating(munchrry returns), aftercare

pairing: nhl player harry x reader

summary: in which harry comes home to yn in a bad mood and makes all of those nasty feelings go away

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | taglist

“cmon, petal. y’know i wouldn’t just intentionally not answer your calls,” harry grumbles, placing his hands on her hips and rubbing his thumbs over them gently. the term of endearment as well as his soft touch are already breaking down her tough exterior, but she doesn’t want to give into him just yet. when she’d called him from bed after he’d left for work, wet and ready for him to quell her desire over the phone, he hadn’t answered because of ‘an important meeting with the team’s media management’.

his eyes flit across her face and body as he takes in all of the subconscious signals she’s sending him, and when he notices her dark eyes and her thighs squeezed together just a bit as she shifts from foot to foot, realization begins to set in.

“ah, i see,” he muses, finally understanding what’s going on. “why don’t y’tell me why you were calling me in the first place. what was goin’ on?” he questions as if he’s confused, but she can see right through him and knows she’s been caught. when she doesn’t answer, he takes it upon himself to go even further, moving even closer to her. close enough that her breaths begin to quicken from the close proximity.

“just insatiable. was waking you up this morning with m’tongue on you not enough? hmm?” he’s teasing her now, one hand that’d been resting on her hip moving down to the hem of her panties as he gives her a moment to recall the earlier events.

~earlier~

“please,” yn cries, her hands tangled deep into her husband’s hair as she tries to get him as close to her centre as possible, despite his face being literally buried in her warmth. their cries are mixing together as he groans against her from both the pain and the pleasure of her hands on him, still licking and sucking all over her like a starved man.

he knows she’s close by the way her thighs have closed in on his ears and her back has started to arch, her moans much louder and drawn out than when he’d first gotten his mouth on her.

so he does the only thing that will get her there; he changes absolutely nothing about what he’s doing with his mouth. and, to no one’s surprise, she’s cumming against his mouth with a cry of his name as the orgasm wracks her body, her legs shaking on either side of his head.

he doesn’t pull away from her until she’s whining and crying from the overstimulation, her hands pushing him off of her as she tries to catch her breath. aftershocks are still shaking her body every few seconds when he crawls up from between her thighs with swollen lips, his face drenched in the evidence of her orgasm.

~now~

a soft needy whimper can be heard even through her closed mouth as she remembers the experience very well, the thoughts of the morning doing nothing to help her current situation. “i’m starting to think i married someone very selfish,” he chides, but his dimpled grin and sparkling eyes go against his words. “i didn’t even cum this morning and here you are, complaining even after i had y’crying.”

she doesn’t respond to him still, but he knows how to get a reaction out of her. so he reaches up and grabs her neck with one hand just as he lets the other breach the hem of her panties and forces her to look at him. he looks her dead in the eyes as two of his fingers delve into her soaked folds and gather some wetness before landing on her clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles around the slick bud.

he presses his lips to hers right as she starts to get vocal, swallowing her moans as he picks up the pace. he can feel her legs start to give out, signalling her orgasm, but he isn’t having that, pulling her hand out of her panties and his mouth away from hers, leaving her near tears as she tries to catch her breath.

“cmon then. go get in bed and ready f’me. i’ll be up soon,” the moment she’s given the instruction she’s making her way to the bedroom before stripping her clothes off and lying in the bed as she waits for harry. he doesn’t keep her waiting for long, and when he comes in the bedroom with his shirt off, yn swears she can cum on the spot.

when he reaches the foot of the bed she’s practically drooling as he sheds his athletic shorts and boxers, leaving her completely bare and all for her. he’s hard and leaking, making it clear that he is just as desperate for her as she is him. climbing onto the bed, he spreads her legs and hooks them onto his hips before placing a hand next to her head and using the other to line himself up with her.

then he’s sinking inside of her, one smooth slow thrust as he bottoms out. she’s so warm and wet around him he feels like he won’t last at all, but his body just takes over as he starts to move. he pulls out of her a bit just to dive back inside of her with so much force that it knocks her up the bed a bit, but he just moves right along with her. he repeats the action, and the sharp thrust causes her to gasp in pleasure, but it breaks off into a moan as he changes the angle and pushes himself deeper into her.

“that’s it, mama. taking me so well, made just for me and my cock, hm?” harry rasps, taking his time as he fucks his wife. small mewls of pleasure are now leaving her swollen lips as she attempts to catch her breath, and he’s going slow to ensure that he reaches as far inside of her as he can, but not so slow that the feeling is unenjoyable.

“so deep, please,” she’s whining now, tears welling on her waterline when he pulls out again just to slam into her once more, the slickness of their combined arousal making the whole process that much smoother. it’s as if each time he pulls out of her -just far out enough that his weepy tip is resting against her entrance- there’s some type of elastic band just pulling him back in.

“i know, angel. i know. bet you feel me right here in y’tummy, huh?” he coos, one hand moving to her stomach, right above where he thinks his cock is inside of her. he doesn’t wait for an answer as he presses down onto the soft skin, until he can feel where he’s penetrating her deeply. the concentrated furrow in his brow melts away as her soft little mewls start to morph into long, loud, and drawn out, sort of guttural moans, signalling to him that he’s done the right thing.

he keeps the firm pressure there as he picks up his pace, bringing her closer and closer to her orgasm with each thrust of his hips. not long after, he feels the all too familiar feeling of her walls beginning to flutter around him, but he’s given no time to react as she suddenly locks down on him tightly as her orgasm slams into her. the sheer force and intensity of her orgasm simultaneously triggers his, and his jaw is dropping as a choked moan leaves him from the unexpected climax.

“fuck, shit!” he gasps, feeling her cum coat his cock generously as he begins to fill her up.

spurt after spurt of his cum shoots from his cock and deep into yn, his head dropping into the crevice between her neck and shoulder as it absolutely wrecks him. his softening cock is still thrusting weakly into his wife as he floods her and a sob of pleasure falls from his lips when he feels her flutter around him again.

they ride the waves of pleasure for a little while, and the moment they’re finally down, harry gently pulls out of yn, but he makes the mistake of looking down to where they were previously connected. he can only watch in awe as his cum starts to drip out of her wrecked hole, and then she’s groaning as he holds her thighs back before lying on his stomach.

“just gonna have a little taste, angel,” he coaxes, but they both know it’s a lie because harry doesn’t ever just ‘have a little taste’ of his wife. the moment he gets his mouth on her he’s in a sort of trance until he knows she can’t take anymore. it doesn’t matter where they are or what they have planned for the day, if he gets a taste of her he can go for hours. “just fuckin’ perfect,” he whispers when he’s eye level with where she’s full of his cum and leaking.

he can’t wait any longer, and all of his resolve has flown out the window as he grips her hips and holds her down before running his tongue through her swollen messy folds. the taste instantly pulls a groan of satisfaction from his lips, the taste of their mixed arousal spurring him on. she’s already sensitive so he knows he should be quick but he just can’t, his eyes fluttering shut as his head gets floaty, he’s drunk on the taste of her. he continues for about 3 more minutes (which isn’t nearly long enough in his opinion but he’ll have to take care of that tomorrow) before she’s falling apart once more, this one rendering her silent and breathless.

she finds the energy to push him away when she can’t possibly take anymore, and he just props himself up on his elbows and watches her as she comes down, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her. when he can see that she’s back down to earth, he presses a couple kisses to her inner thighs before speaking up.

“are you up for a bath or shower tonight or should i just clean you up and we can go to bed?” he whispers, but he has a feeling that her answer will be the latter. he’s proven correctly when she speaks up and confirms his thoughts. so he gets up and goes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wet with warm water and cleans himself up before making his way back to where she still lies in the centre of the bed, fucked out and glowy. he gently spreads her legs before taking the towel to her swollen and sensitive skin, thoroughly but carefully cleaning her.

once she’s all clean, he helps her get tucked under the blankets before he’s moving back to the bathroom to put the washcloth away and heading to the kitchen yo grab her some water to drink. when he gets back he sits her up and helps her drink all that she can before placing the remaining water on the nightstand and turning the lights off before climbing into bed. the two bask in the comfortable silence for a while as sleep starts to take over them, and within minutes they’re both sound asleep.

lmk what you guys thoughtttttt☺️

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*

Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.

And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?

Word Count: 2.1k

(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Hi, Stranger.”

Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”

“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.

“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”

“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”

“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”

“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”

“What’s wrong with coach?”

“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”

“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”

You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”

Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”

And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.

Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.

So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.

It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.

And then…something changes.

He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.

Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.

His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.

And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.

“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.

But you don’t want an out.

“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”

The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”

Your breath hitches.

“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”

And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his.

“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”

You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.

Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.

“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”

“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”

He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand.

“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”

Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock.

“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”

More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.

He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”

He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.

Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.

“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.

It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”

He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.

He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.

“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”

And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.

“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”

You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”

He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.

“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”

He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach.

“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”

The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.

It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?

Euphoria.

“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”

And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.

“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”

“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.

He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.

“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”

Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.

There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.

The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.

“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”

The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.

You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.

Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.

You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.

You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.

“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”

He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.

Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”

He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.

A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”

You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors.

“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”

“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”

“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”

Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure.

He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.

The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.

“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”

You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.

But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.

You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”

Which you don’t mind at all.

I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞

Previous Part:

~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #smut #harry styles one shot

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bowties-and-warlocks · 2 years

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Eugene Fitzherbert is a Matilda

#i will not be taking feedback at this time #eugene fitzherbert #tangled #Disney #flynn rider #harry styles

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niallsgoldhoop · 3 months

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CHANNING

a harry styles one shot seven thousand words cw - sexual content, alcohol, harsh language, spitting, spanking, choking,

“I can’t believe you almost missed this.” Looking over at me, the dark eyes of my closest friend shine under the overhead lights. “I mean, come on— It’s Harryween.”

Using my pinky to perfect the edge of the color as I look in the mirror, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay well I couldn’t let this costume go to waste.”

“Honestly.” Adjusting the straps of her angel wings, she laughs. “It’s perfect.”

Tucking a lock of wavy copper hair behind my ear, the green foliage sewed to the leather top last minute contrasts against my porcelain skin in the best way.

As soon as the decision was made— the costume just happens to fall into place.

It took me less than a day to buy the ivy from a local craft store along with the needle and thread. Deep in the back of my closet there was a black leather corset, the kind that fastened in a line of delicate hooks up the front, one that pushed my breasts up even higher than normal. Pairing that with the black leather skirt that hit the middle of my thighs seemed like the only option that made sense.

Less than two hours sitting on my couch and watching Succession later and all of the ivy had been sewn into place. After a little maneuvering I even managed to turn the broad, verdant colored leaves to a makeshift garter for each of my thighs.

Standing here in this bathroom and looking at my reflection, the extra ivy twisting from the top of the high topped canvas sneakers on my feet, I can’t help but smile at how good it looks snaking over my toned calves and thick thighs.

Poison Ivy.

“We better get down to the pit before it gets too crazy.” With a wide smile on her face, I laugh along with her as her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me along. “If we’re lucky we can get close to the barricade.”

Staying close behind her, the two of us manage to squeeze through the sea of people, finding a spot in the pit good enough that we would be able to get a decent view.

I’d been to plenty of shows before but it felt like nothing compared to the pit at a Harry Styles show.

Even as the show eventually starts, it’s clear that everyone got the memo to dress up and seeing the man of the hour— I’m so glad this is where I ended up.

The way he looks tonight should be illegal.

The way he’s looking at me?

Criminal.

Up on the stage, I make eye contact with him again as he passes by, my body heating under his gaze for what feels like the millionth time.

“God, he keeps looking at you!” The girl with two boas and a pink cowboy hat next to me says, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

I feel my lips as they turn into a smirk, raising my eyes back to the stage to see him in front of me again.

Being so close to the barricade was an accident. Somehow, someway we managed to make out way closer and closer as the night went on. Dancing with everyone around us all night has been the best part of the show.

Well… That and seeing Harry dressed in the most delicate and detailed costume.

A clown with the prettiest cream fabrics and lace along with the most perfect moon and stars offsetting the lighter colors with their darkness. Even his cheeks have the rosiest hue— complete with little pearl drops along his cheeks and above his brows.

Nothing too scary, but something just sexy enough.

As he plays the song everyone longs to hear, this time when lyrics roll off of his heart shaped lips in front of me, there’s no mistaking it.

‘And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you —‘

Eyes set on mine, he brings the tip of each finger to his flattened tongue, a tease of how he would certainly be able to please between the sheets.

Rolling my eyes as my best friend grabs my arm, her fingers pressing into the bare skin of my bicep, I find his gaze lingering before he moves on — deciding to entertain the other side of his stage before making his exit.

It feels like the scene of a documentary as the end of the show finally unfolds and people make their way from the stadium, a mass of people all looking for something to get them as high as the feeling Harry Styles gives them.

Laughing on the way out, I give the longest hugs that I can manage before slipping out into the night to find the small bar that has always welcomed me on a night like tonight.

A night when I’m not ready to dream quite yet.

Between the way the city never sleeps and the people out for their own version of tricks and treats, it feels like hours before I find what I’m looking for even if it’s not terribly far away from where I started.

Still dressed in the costume I threw together at the last minute, I don’t even find myself caring much about that. People from all across the city are dressed in various Halloween get ups— making it that much easier to blend in.

Even if the majority of my skin feels like it’s on display.

Smiling as I grip the door handle, it’s the large hand that covers mine that makes my heart race.

The anchor tattoo.

The mermaid.

The cross.

Turning on my heel, the same eyes that looked into mine in front of thirty thousand people trace over my face — over my freckles, over my cheekbones… Over my lips.

“It’s you.” Low and raspy, the accent drips off his lips as they turn into a sinister grin.

Rolling my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I watch his eyes follow the movement as I press through the door and let him follow.

“It’s me.”

The bar is small and dimly lit, the best place to come if you don’t want to be found.

I’ve come here for years, a product of begging to be lost.

Turning my back on him, I make my way to the bar and sit on one of the stools, smiling as the bartender makes his way down to me. I can feel Harry’s presence as he slides onto the stool next to me, his thigh brushing against the skin of my thigh that my skirt doesn’t cover.

“Hey, babe.” Leaning over the bar and kissing my cheek, the familiar face behind the bar places a shot glass on the counter before filling it with tequila and placing a lime along the rim, sliding it to me. “How was your night?”

My face turns towards the man next to me, his features sharper in the low light as he studies me carefully before I look away from him with a shrug. “It was okay.”

A laugh falls from his lips as he leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Okay? Is that all you have to say about me?”

“Maybe it is.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I turn to face him, reaching for the shot and taking it, watching Harry as his eyes focus on my lips where I taste the lime. “Why? Are your feelings hurt?”

Catching the attention of the person behind the bar, those mossy eyes hold mine as he orders. “Can I please have four shots of tequila?”

“You alright with this guy, Chan?” Looking between the two of us, his eyes narrow in Harry’s direction.

I laugh. “We’re good. You can pull your best friend shit somewhere else.”

Rolling his eyes, he pours the shots out for the two of us. Leaving a small bowl of salt and limes before making his back to the other end of the bar.

“Chan?” Harry’s voice is rich and smooth, just like you always hear about. “Is that short for Chandler?”

I shake my head as I bring my hand up and flatten my tongue before running it across the back of my hand, eyes locked on his. “No, it’s not.”

“Are you going to tell me?” Watching my every move, his green eyes watch as I pinch salt between my fingers and let it fall to my skin.

“Should I?” Once again, I flatten my tongue across the same spot and taste the salt before picking up the small glass of liquor, tipping it back and letting it burn down my throat. “What’s in it for me if I do?”

Tension unlike I’ve ever known settled between us.

Somewhere my brain tells me to be careful, but the reckless part of me says that sometimes things are just meant to happen.

The odds of running into a man like him are practically zero. Yet here I am with flushed skin from the warmth of his proximity.

I reach for the lime but Harry beats me to it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and pressing the acidic fruit to my bottom lip, eyes begging for me to open for him.

“Suck.”

Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I flick my tongue across the broad side of the lime before wrapping my lips around it and following the simple instructions.

“So you do know how to listen.” Harry pulls his hand away from me before dropping the fruit back into the empty shot glass.

Tilting my head back, I laugh.

Pressing my hand on his thigh and leaning forward, this time my lips brush against his ear. “I only listen when I feel like it.”

“Hmm.” He hums as he leans back, eyes looking over my body. “Do you feel like listening tonight?”

I shake my head as he reaches for my hand and pulls me in close, his eyes burning through me as his tongue darts out and presses to my skin along my forearm. Holding me in place and using his other hand, he easily sprinkles the salt along my heated skin before flattening his tongue and tasting it.

My breath hitches in my throat as his fingers tip the glass back, taking the lime and holding it out for me. Taking the hint, I bite onto it and lean towards him letting him take it from me with a smug grin on his face. His lips brush against mine for only a moment before he leans away from me, sucking the juice out of the fruit to chase the bitter taste of the liquor. “Come on, tell me your name.”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Squeezing his thigh, I brush my lips against the base of his throat, smiling when I feel him swallow thickly.

“And what’s that?” Gripping my chin, Harry tilts my head backwards and grins at me, his notorious bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.

I roll my tongue along my bottom lip, watching as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You keep staring at my lips like you want them to do something.”

“Yeah?” His grip on my chin tightens. “What if I want to put them to work?”

I lick my bottom lip as my breathing shallows, giving Harry the opportunity to press his thumb into the small bowl of salt and brush it along my bottom lip. “I’d say you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t made a move yet.”

Harry’s eyes darken as he leans in, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip and tasting the salt. Reaching for one of the last two shots that he ordered, I watch as he pours the liquid into his mouth before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip in a silent request.

Running my tongue along my lower lip and opening my mouth for him, I can’t even be bothered to be surrounded by other people or the sound that comes from the back of my mouth when he spits the liquor onto my waiting tongue.

Grabbing the lime and holding it against the skin of my throat, I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that falls from my lips when he squeezes the wedge and his warm tongue catches the juice as it rolls down the column of my throat as I swallow.

“That’s right… Swallow for me, pretty girl.”

I can barely register his words before his lips are on mine and I can taste the flavor on his tongue as it finds mine, one of his hands sliding back into the waves at the nape of my neck and the other slipping just under the hem of my skirt and past the dark leaves of my costume.

He kisses me hard and with no abandon, as if he wants nothing more than to devour me. Leaning closer to him and hooking my finger into the waistband of his pants, I moan lightly when his teeth drag across my bottom lip.

“I need to get you alone.” He mumbles, his hand sliding along the inside of my thigh as his fingertips dance across my skin. “Need you on your knees while I watch those lips wrap around me.

I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking my skin. “There’s a private bathroom in the office— fuck, down the hall.”

Leaving the last shot, Harry takes my hand and pulls me towards the hallway that leads us in the right direction. With his arms wrapping around my body from behind, once we stop just long enough for me to punch in the code for the keypad I can feel him hard and ready behind me.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take you right fucking here.” Nipping my earlobe, Harry plays with the hem of my skirt as his hand grips my throat and turns my head to the side, giving him more access. “How many ways are you going to let me fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Fuck.” Punching the last number into the keypad, when it beeps twice and I turn the handle, it opens easily.

We barely make it into the room and slam the door before Harry turns on me, pressing my body into the door and pressing his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place.

His mouth is on mine in a messy and hungry kiss all while his hands take their time exploring my body. From my breasts to my ass, not one place goes unnoticed by his skilled hands.

“This fucking costume.” Bringing the skin at the base of my throat between his teeth only to soothe it with his tongue, I shiver when he drags his finger along the top of the ivy, digging behind it enough to trace my skin. “People think that it’s so bright on stage and that I can’t see, but I do — I fucking see everything.”

Kissing under my jaw, his hands work the hooks that line the front of the top, one by one. “Tell me what you saw, Harry.

“You want to know?” Dragging his tongue across the swell of my breasts, I reach up and run my nails across his scalp, making him moan. “I saw you, dressed in this—“ Releasing the last button and letting the top of the corset fall to the floor, Harry cups both of my breasts and squeezes them, pinching each nipple at the same time. “I watched you dance, seeing your perfect ass sway from side to side like you didn’t give a single fuck that I was on that stage.”

Dropping down, Harry runs his tongue across the sensitive peak a moment before taking it between his teeth, pulling back enough to make me gasp. “I didn’t— I was more of a Niall girl—”

“Beautiful and bratty, huh?” His fingers find my throat as I smile, pressing into my skin just enough that my lips part on an exhale from the rush. “The only name that's going to come off your lips tonight is mine.”

“You seem so—.” My thoughts all but disappear when I feel Harry reach down and slip his hand under the tight material of my skirt after tracing the edge of the garter along my thighs.

Taking my nipple back into his mouth and teasing, he pulls back to look at me as his knuckle presses into my clit over the fabric of my underwear. “I seem so what, Chan? You won’t even tell me your name yet here you are — dripping down the inside of your thighs for me.”

“So full of yourself.” I finally get out. “Maybe you really are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

Pushing the fabric aside, Harry doesn’t even pace himself, sliding two fingers deep inside of me and making me cry out as his thumb circles my clit with so much pressure it borders pain. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Harry—“ I moan.

Curling his fingers, I feel like my body is on overdrive as he works an orgasm out of my body quicker than even I’ve been able to do it. . “Come on my fingers for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

Reaching out and gripping his shoulders, I can see the dark evergreen of his eyes just on the rim of his blown out pupils under the lights as his breath comes out shallow, the muscles under his skin flexing as he works me even harder through my orgasm.

Once my body loses all of the tension I tip forward into Harry’s arms with a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah? That good?” He smirks as he wraps my hair around his fist. Once, twice. “Chan, I need to ask you something.”

I nod, my eyes the only things he’s focused on. “Now you want to ask questions?”

“I’m serious.” His nose brushes mine before he places a soft kiss to my lips, a complete contrast to the way he just coaxed a release from my body. “I need to know that if you don’t like something or you want me to stop that you’ll tell me, okay?”

I nod, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, taking my time to enjoy the way his tongue feels moving with mine. “I promise.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes burn into my features looking for any sign of hesitance.

“I’m sure.” Getting impatient, I nip his bottom lip. “Now, are you going to fuck me or stand here and be a gentleman all night? Which one is it?”

“Such a fucking mouth on you.” Flexing his hand in my hair and pulling tighter, there’s no option but for me to sink to my knees as Harry guides me. “I hope you know how to use it for more than just your attitude.”

Sitting back on my heels, I lick my lips. “Only one way to find out.”

“Go on then.” Nodding towards his straining cock beneath the fabric of his pants, he waits for me to undo the button. “Let me watch you choke on my cock so that you can’t talk back to me.”

When my hands finally free him, I whimper at the same time Harry’s groan fills the small office. Leaking with precome, I flick the tip of my tongue to collect the pearly drops.

“Pinch my thigh if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Using his hand that doesn’t still have my hair wrapped around his fist, he cups my jaw and runs his thumb across my cheek as I nod. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me.”

Taking Harry into my mouth, I wish I could take a picture of how he looks from this angle. His head tilts back as a moan curves around his lips, I swear to god I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. Pushing his hips forward slowly, I hollow my cheeks as I use my tongue to feel every single ridge and vein he has to offer me. My hands rest on his thighs as he drops his head down and meets my gaze.

“I’m going to go harder, is that okay?” With his cock still in my mouth, I nod. “Good fucking girl, good girl.”

Harry pushes his thighs even deeper, groaning at the feeling of his cock sliding down the back of my throat and making the muscles constrict around him from the intrusion. It feels like so much pressure and not enough at the same time as he repeats the action. Tears form in my waterline as I choke over and over, the tears spilling out onto my cheeks.

“See how good you're taking my cock down your pretty little throat?” Sliding his hand from my cheek, I moan around him as his hand rests across my throat. “Fuck, are you going to swallow for me?”

I choke once more, nodding.

“Good.”

It’s one word that precedes his release, one that I make good on my promise and swallow every drop of.

Once Harry pulls back, I take a deep breath and look up to him for only a moment before he pulls me to my feet and spins us around. Lifting me up and sitting me onto the desk, stepping between my legs and tracing his fingers over the edges of the ivy still wrapped around me.

Instantly his lips are on mine, groaning at his own tastes as he reaches between my legs and pushes the material of the leather skirt up, his fingers finding the sensitive nerve at the apex of my thighs as my hips roll forward to meet the friction.

“Are you this wet for me?” Lips ghosting over mine, his fingers find my nipple, pinching. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, please.” I say, looking into his eyes as he brings his fingers up, smearing the arousal across my bottom lip before kissing me again.

It’s impossible not to feel crazed as his hands fall to my thighs and push up my skirt, watching as it bunches up around my hips. “Lay back for me.”

Placing his hand in the center of my chest, I fall back onto the desk and whimper when I feel his warm lips leaving lingering kisses along the inside of my thighs.

“Look at you, so willing to let me do whatever I want with you tonight. I don’t even want to unwrap this pretty package you’ve put on for me.” His breath ghost across my center, the anticipation making me feel like I could explode at any minute. “I guess I got lucky— finding you on a night where you want to listen. A night where you want to be told what to do. Am I right?”

Harry doesn’t give the time to formulate an answer, his tongue immediately pressing into my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The action takes me by surprise as my back arches off the desk and my hands search for anything to hold onto.

Dragging patterns across the nerve, I cry out his name as he devours me like he’s never done before. As he releases my clit, his tongue finds my entrance and makes a languid path through my arousal before reaching the place I want him the most.

Up and down.

Side to side.

The stimulation makes my thighs shake as he tugs my hips toward him until my ass hangs off the desk and he pulls my dripping cunt even further into his face.

“Harry, fuck.” My hands flip, nails digging into the wood of the desk no doubt leaving marks. “Right there, fuck. I’ve never— never been so close so fast—“

Pushing myself up to my elbows, I let my head roll back as Harry rolls my clit between his teeth before pulling back, delivering a harsh slap to my outer thigh.

“Do you want to come for me?” Pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee, he raises a brow in my direction and smirks when I nod. “If you want to come for me— if you’re going to scream my name— you’re going to watch me as you do it. You’re going to watch me devour you like my last meal, do you understand?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod, resisting the urge to roll my head back when he immediately finds my clit and brings two fingers to my entrance, pushing them in and finding my g-spot.

“Harry.” His name falls off my lips like a prayer as he keeps his eyes on mine. “Please, please let me come. I need it, I—

I feel it as my body gives into the pleasure Harry so willingly gives.

My back arches, my breast pushing up into the air and not even a sound is able to pour from my mouth. Reaching out to grasp something and knocking a cup of pens onto the floor behind me, I cry out.

“Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” Standing up, Harry looks down at me as he fists his cock in his hand. “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”

“Condom?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

Harry reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling one out and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on his length. “Tell me what you want? Hard? Soft?”

“Give me what nobody else can, don’t fucking hold back.” I grit out, feeling him run his cock along my clit. “Prove to me that you can fuck as good as everyone thinks you can.”

Harry smiles down at me only a moment before thrusting his hips forward, burying himself as deep as possible, making me scream out for him. “How’s that for a start? You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Harry!” I cry. “I need it just like that, so deep.”

Pulling his hips back, Harry leans over to kiss me as he thrusts again, the power behind it pushing the desk forward an inch. “Yeah? You like feeling like this? Feeling so fucking full that you can’t stand it. Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well, so fucking well.”

“You’re so big, shit.” I moan, my head lolling to the side as his hands spread across my waist and grip me before slamming into me. “God. It feels so— so fucking good.”

“You can take it.” Harry moans above me, his eyes going back and forth between my face to where he disappears inside of me, watching as I take every inch of him. “It feels like this was made for me. So tight, so warm.”

“Please, I need more—“

At my words alone, Harry pulls out and pulls me off the desk and turns me around. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bends me over the desk before pushing my skirt back up around my waist and grips the waistband to hold me in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” Peering at him over my shoulder, I open my mouth on a breathless moan when his hand cracks across the left side of my ass — quickly followed by the right. “Did you need me to fuck you from behind so I could spank you like this? Huh?”

I feel Harry as he slowly pushes his hips forward, filling me. Listening to his moans as they bounce off the walls, my own whimpers mix with the sound. Gripping my hips, he takes his time as he works so slow — each inch more agonizing than the last before his hips press against my ass.

“Are you going soft on me back there?” Looking at him over my shoulder, I smirk when fire flashes behind his eyes. “Is the guy from the bar all of a sudden gone?”

Harry rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before raising his hand and delivering a harsh slap, one that’s sure to leave his handprint behind.

“I know you fucking like that, don’t you? You’re squeezing my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.” Fingers digging into my hips, I moan when he pulls me back onto his cock and buries himself even deeper. “Tell me — tell me I'm the best you’ve ever had.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to ground myself as Harry brushes against my g-spot with every single thrust, the pull in the base of my spine getting so strong that I don’t know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

“I’ve neve been fucked like this.” I cry. “Nobody has ever, ever made me feel so fucking good.”

My eyes roll back as Harry presses his fingers against my clit and works them in time with his trusts, making me push up onto the tips of my toes in search of the release that isn’t far off.

“Like that, oh my god.” Panting, I meet him thrust for thrust as he fucks me harder and harder. “I'm so close.”

“Come on pretty poison girl, soak my cock for me.” Gripping the back of my neck, Harry presses me into the desk and gives me everything he has until my body gives up, releasing around him. “Fuck. you feel so good when you come around me like that. So damn good.”

Slowing his rhythm, Harry sweeps my hair off of my back and leans over me, pressing kisses up the curve of my spine. “Harry.”

“Yes?” His voice is soft as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You are incredible.”

“One more.” The words fall from my lips even though I know that I'm so fucked, that I know I won’t last much longer. “I want one more.”

Stopping his movements, I feel Harry chuckle. “You think you can handle me again?”

“I want to see you.” I say, my eyes darting toward the door of the bathroom. “Let me watch you come undone over me.”

Harry grins as he pulls out, the loss of him more than I expected. “I never would have guessed the woman in the crowd would be able to fuck me so well.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate people, Harry.” I walk in front of him, listening to the way he moans when he sees my own release dripping down the inside of my thighs. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck.” Running his hand through his curls. He looks freshly fucked and I can’t wait to finish him. “Let me see you.”

Stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light, the sleek and modern design is perfect. Turning, Harry steps close and finds my lips with his, taking his time to kiss me as his hands once again wander my body.

When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I let my head tilt back. “Come on. Give me what I want.”

“So fucking needy.” Harry responds, turning me around and pinning me against the counter. “Bend over, you pretty slut.” Pressing my ass out and shaking it from side to side, I cry out when Harry strikes his palm across each cheek. “How many?”

The tone in his voice makes me moan. “Fuck.”

“I said—“ Cracking down his palm again, he steps up behind me, pushing just his tip inside of my throbbing center. “How many.”

“Until you think I’ve had enough.”

I arch my back when he thrusts forward, his hand connecting with my ass even harder. “What if I never get enough. huh?”

“Harry—“

“What if I'm starting to think one night isn’t enough for me?” He thrusts so deep and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good, I clench around him. “Fuck, when you grip my cock like that I never want to leave — I could fuck you all damn night.”

I moan as I meet his gaze in the mirror, looking at the tattoos on his arms as he slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back onto his cock. “Don’t say that.”

“What? Don’t say that I want you?” Bringing his palm against my skin, his gaze locks on mine. “This— fuck, this isn’t normal.”

“What?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and letting my head fall forward. “What isn’t—”

“Feeling like this after one night.” Thrusting into me so hard that I scream, I feel tears in my eyes over the way my body feels ready to give into him again. “I’ve never had sex like this, never fucked anyone this good.”

I let my head fall to the side as my cheek presses against the cool counter, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the small room. “That’s because you've never been with someone like me before.”

“Fuck—“ Harry is relentless as he searches for his release. “I need you to come for me again, please.”

Begging me, his eyes are hazy as he looks at me, gaze looking with mine until with one thrust, my body shatters around his. “Harry!”

“Oh, shit—“

I watch as his head rolls back and his body stills for just a moment before his hips slowly guide in and out of me, riding us through the orgasms we’ve given each other.

“There you go, pretty girl.” Running his hands up and down my back. I take a deep breath. “You’re so fucking good. So good, Chan.”

I take a deep breath as I try to center myself. “Harry, that was—“

Resting his forehead between my shoulder blades, his warm breath skates across my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like that when I saw you tonight, the woman dressed with ivy across her body— that the vines would wrap around me and pull me in.”

“I don’t know why you’re the surprised one.” I say, wetting my lips. “You’re the one that showed up here. How?”

Harry pulls out, a whimper falling from my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t know… I wanted to get a drink somewhere where I wouldn’t feel like Harry Styles — I wanted to go somewhere small and local.”

“And you ended up here?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.

Grabbing a hand towel, Harry presses a kiss to my temple before running it under warm water and hoisting me onto the counter, laughing as I wince.

“I ended up here.” He smiles as he reaches his hand between my legs, kissing me when I gasp as he runs the warm cloth over my sensitive clit.

We both look at each other and it’s almost like Harry can’t help it when he leans down to kiss me, taking his time as his hands come up to cup my cheeks.

“Let’s get you dressed, okay?” He speaks the words against my lips but makes no move to let me off the counter to grab my top. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

I laugh. “Come on, we have to get out of here before someone comes in.”

“I hope they do.” kissing down the side of my neck, Harry rests his forehead against my collarbone. “I need everyone to know I was with you — that you’ve been fucked you harder than you ever have in your life.”

Resting my hand in the middle of his chest, I push him backwards and hop off the counter on shaky legs, Harry laughing as he rests his hands on my hips to guide me back into the office.

“Here, let me help you.” It’s a sweet gesture to see a man like him help me back into my top, watching as he uses all of his concentration to make sure every hook gets fastened properly while he doesn’t disturb the leaves.

“Thank you… For tonight.” I say, looking over his features. “I really had a good time.”

Harry smiles and brushes a lock of hair from off my face. “I did too.”

I give him one last smile, reaching for the door handle.

Before I turn it, Harry reaches for my hand, turning me and pressing me into the door one last time, finding my lips with his own.

Unlike most of the kisses tonight, this one is so slow, so gentle.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to be able to see you again — I don't know what my brain is doing to me, but I just know that I need it.” The look in his eyes is so full of hope, so soft. “I’ll understand if you say no.”

“Here.” I hold my hand out, hoping he gets the hint.

When he does, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. I easily put my name and number in before giving it back to him, watching his lips curl up with a grin.

“Channing?” Looking from his phone to me, I smile as my hand grips the doorknob and finally push it open.

I wink at him as I step out into the hall. “It’s me.”

He steps forward and grips my hip one last time. bringing his lips down to mine.

“It’s you.”

💖

#harry #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles fandom #harry fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fine line #harry styles fic #one direction #harrys house #fine line #smut #romance #tequila #one d #oneshot

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avatar-anna · 4 months

Text

Honeymoon Avenue

Harry Styles x Latina! Reader Masterlist

“Harry.”

Silence.

“Harry.”

More silence.

Y/n rolled her eyes and blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. Straddling Harry’s waist on their shared hotel bed, she shook his shoulders with both hands. “Bubba. Wake. Up.”

“Huh? Oh hi.” Harry slowly blinked his eyes open to find his wife sitting on top of him.

His wife. Even though he had proposed, and even though he was there standing in front of Y/n to put the ring on her finger as they exchanged vows, Harry still couldn’t quite believe that they were married.

Seeing the way she was sitting on him, he grinned, his hands reaching up and underneath her shirt to lazily trace patterns along her back. Harry’s grin deepened when he felt goosebumps rise along her spine.

“We were supposed to go watch the sunrise,” she pouted a while later. She was sitting on top of the ridiculously large marble bathroom counter in their ridiculously large hotel bathroom. Y/n had told Harry multiple times that she was more than comfortable staying somewhere less extravagant, but he insisted, never one to shy away from his love for the finer things in life; that and the hotel they were staying at had a fantastic security team, something Harry was interested when he helped her plan their honeymoon.

Y/n tried to stay on task and remember why she had been trying to wake Harry before the sun rose in the first place, but with the way he was looking at her and how one of his hands took one of hers and brought it to his mouth and began kissing along her palm and down her wrist, she could hardly think straight. She felt herself lean down almost involuntarily, pressing her lips to his. Harry hummed happily as he kissed her, no longer tired or curious as to why Y/n had decided to wake him up when it was still dark outside. He was quick to slip her shirt up and off of her, flipping them over so that she was against the bed and he hovered over her. Y/n whimpered quietly against Harry’s lips as he pushed her deeper against the mattress, his tongue tangling with hers as his hand brought her leg up to wrap around his waist, grinding against her to let her know just how awake he was now.

It was slow, unrushed, Harry and Y/n both too sleepy to do more than hold each other closely and press lazy kisses on lips and warm skin. Y/n gripped his hair, which had grown longer and curlier since the wedding. While they were out, Harry usually wore a ratty cap to tame it, but she loved the length, loved running her fingers through the silky strands.

Harry murmured sweet nothings in Y/n's ear, groaning when she squeezed around him tighter. He swallowed her moans with kisses, nibbling gently on her bottom lip until she fell apart beneath him.

Harry stepped out from behind the foggy glass shower doors, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair extra curly from the steam. “I’m sorry. Tomorrow maybe?”

“I doubt it,” she huffed. “We’ll just end up back where we started this morning.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Harry asked her, leaning both of his hands on either side of her. “You.” A kiss to her jaw. “Me.” Her cheekbone. “Hours and hours to ourselves with absolutely nowhere else to be.” He kissed her lips this time, and he could taste the minty flavor of her toothpaste on her tongue.

Y/n brought her hands up to wrap around Harry’s neck and pull him even closer, her calves brushing the spot where towel met skin on Harry’s waist as she circled them around his middle. She felt his hands move underneath her coverup, cold to the touch from leaning against the marble countertop. Her feet began to push his towel down, but Harry pulled away from her with a final kiss before she got the chance.

“Now, I know I’m absolutely irresistible, but I’ve made plans for us this afternoon,” Harry said, helping Y/n off the counter. Her mouth widened in surprise, but Harry just kissed the top of her head and left the bathroom to get ready for their day. “And make sure you wear something you feel comfortable hiking in,” he said over his shoulder.

She shook her head in disbelief at his antics, though this far into her relationship with Harry, Y/n supposed she shouldn’t have underestimated his playful side.

“What? You mean you couldn’t find someone to carry us on gold couches wherever we’re going?” she asked him teasingly as she followed Harry into the main area of their suite.

He turned towards her, a light blue t-shirt fisted in his hands. “Well, I tried, but they were all booked up.”

About twenty minutes later, the newlyweds were out the door and ready to start their day. They waited outside for the car Harry had rented to come around, Harry holding Y/n close to his chest, moving her braids aside so he could kiss the side of her neck. She didn’t say anything at first, too wrapped up in his touch to remember they were out in the open and not hidden away on a secluded beach or back in their suite.

“People could see us, bubba” she mumbled quietly under her breath.

He only stopped to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear. “Let them.”

Y/n swiftly turned around in their small bubble so that they were facing each other. Harry didn’t hesitate to kiss her on the lips, and on instinct, she threaded her fingers through his hair to pull him closer.

“I don’t want to be one of those couples,” she told him when she finally came to her senses enough to lean back from him.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, all over each other and throwing what they have in other people’s faces. You know that.” What she didn’t have to say was that she also didn’t love having their more intimate moments captured on camera because she knew he felt the same way; though obviously he felt different about it today. It made Y/n feel like it wasn’t just the two of them in their relationship, like she was sharing that side of Harry with the rest of the world. They could have his music and his charisma and his charm, but there were some parts of him that she selfishly wanted all to herself.

And it was embarrassing to be sent pictures of her and Harry making out on the beach back home by one of her family members.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Harry said, kissing the tip of her nose. “I just love you too much, I think.”

She heard a car pull up behind them and turned around, her hands still on either side of his face. “Come on, our ride is here.” Taking her hand in his, they walked the few steps to the car, Harry opening the door for Y/n. She didn’t react, but only because he’d been doing it every day since they got here.

Y/n grinned as her heart melted into a puddle at her feet. The rest of the world be damned, she thought. Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him, reaching up on her toes and holding his face in her hands. Pulling away, she kissed all over Harry’s face, grinning when he began to blush.

Here being Fiji. It had taken a while for the two of them to settle on somewhere both of them wanted to go. Harry wanted their honeymoon to be relaxing and full of spending nearly every moment in their bed. “We can do that anywhere,” Y/n told him when he kept showing her secluded islands that only had white sand as far as the eye could see.

“Oh we can?” Harry had asked her, wiggling his eyebrows and suddenly ready to turn in for the night.

“Don’t give me that look, I just meant that we should have a little adventure too.”

“We can be adventurous,” He’d said, but she just smacked his chest in reply.

“Focus. We need to get this done before it’s too late.”

Harry eventually sat back in his seat instead of practically sitting in hers at the kitchen table. He knew Y/n was organized and liked to do things as efficiently as possible. He had the urge to tell her that wherever they looked, someone would always make a space for them if his name was on the booking, but he liked watching her comb through various websites and trying to find the best place that had what both of them wanted, so he let her do her research and gave his opinion when she asked for it.

So now they were in Fiji, on their way to hike up to some waterfall.

This particular activity Harry had looked up all on his own. Well, it was more like a friend of his mentioned it when Harry said that’s where he and Y/n were going for their honeymoon, and from there he tried to figure out more, thinking she would love it. He never actually told her where they were going today, but she was always up for doing something outside the confines of their hotel—sailing, surfing, dancing in nightclubs (though Harry had to admit he liked that one too). He enjoyed all of them, really, but it was like Y/n was constantly full of energy; he was always tugging on her hand and pulling her back into bed or to his towel on the beach. He was surprised she hadn’t tried to go for a run while they’d been here, but he was happy to wake up next to her every morning all the same.

“I can feel you staring at my ass, bubba” she called over her shoulder.

Harry walked behind Y/n as they continued up the trail together, admiring her behind the dark shades of his sunglasses. She was quiet for most of their hike up to the waterfall, except for the few times she asked where they were going or what he was up to, finally having given up twenty minutes ago when Harry just kept grinning and shook his head.

Harry’s face split into a grin as he took a few more strides to take her hand in his. “I wasn’t.”

He was a terrible liar, they both knew that, and his cheeky little smile did nothing to help his case. “You were, but that’s okay,” she told him, raising a hand to her face to shield herself from the sun. She was wearing sunglasses, a gift from Harry once he realized she was constantly using her hand to keep the sun out of her eyes, but it seemed like the habit stuck.

They walked some more, talking about random things as they took in everything around them. Y/n was surprised that Harry had a day planned for them outdoors. Not that he wasn’t the outdoorsy type—they’d gone on all sorts of adventures together when their schedules allowed it—but he had been so adamant that this trip was about relaxing and staying in bed for as long as possible and trips to the spa (together of course). When they came to their destination, though, she saw why Harry would’ve wanted to come up here.

“I wasn’t,” Harry insisted, but Y/n only shook her head, amused by his refusal to admit when he checked her out, having done it often enough that they’d had similar conversations before. Since they'd gotten together, he openly admired Y/n, something that had earned him relentless teasing from friends for years.

But this wasn't the same, not really. He was just admiring her in general, stunned into silence by the fact that someone as kind and beautiful as she was his wife. But Harry would never admit that so easily, not if he wanted to avoid being relentlessly teased by his wife for being so thoughtful and romantic. She would call it cheesy, but he always thought he was charming, endearing.

“Oh, Harry,” she breathed, her eyes taking in the huge waterfall in front of her. Y/n had heard the water crashing into the large pool before they’d reached it, but seeing it all up close made her stop.

“You like it?” Harry asked, watching her reaction. She would tell him that he should be looking at what he’d obviously brought them up here for, and she would definitely punch his shoulder for saying this out loud, but he thought she was a much more incredible sight to behold.

Y/n nodded, her eyes quickly darting from the top of the waterfall to where it ended in a pool of crystal clear water. “Is it—”

“Safe to swim in? Yes. Wouldn’t have brought you here if it wasn’t. Come on,” he told her, nudging her arm a bit to get her moving again. She blinked out of her momentary daze and began to shed her clothes like Harry had.

Before he could slip off his shoes, Y/n pulled Harry down to her lips. She pulled away from him almost as fast as she had kissed him. “Race you to the waterfall,” she said quickly before taking off toward the edge of the pool.

It took Harry hearing the sound of Y/n's splash in the water to get Harry moving. Slipping off his shoes, he raced after her, his jump into the pool not quite as gracefully as she probably did. It wasn’t a long swim, but she still beat Harry, waiting for him on the other side of the waterfall with a victorious grin. He swam the last few feet to where she seemed to be sitting on a large boulder. It was shallower on the other side, just enough for Harry to stand comfortably and hold Y/n when he pulled her off her perch.

“I won,” she said proudly. It was loud with all the water crashing into the pool, but she was close enough for him to hear her gloat.

“You did,” he replied, but from where Harry stood, he thought he was the one that had won.

He kissed her then, something he never got tired of doing. Her lips were cold and wet against his own from their swim, but holding her like this made Harry feel like he had been set on fire. He involuntarily shuffled them so that Y/n was pinned against the boulder she’d been sitting on. She whimpered from the cool surface making contact with her back, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as Harry followed a single droplet of water that fell down her neck with his lips and tongue.

Harry’s hands traveled from where they had been cupping either side of her face to her back, pulling at the strings of her swimsuit until they came loose, then doing the same with the tie at her neck.

Removing her arms from around his neck she covered herself, feeling self-conscious even though no one was around to see her now bare chest. Harry tried to carefully pry her arms away, but Y/n shook her head, refusing to uncross them.

“What are you doing—Hey I’m gonna need that!” A nervous giggle bubbled up and out of Y/n as Harry waved her bikini in her face and tossed it behind him, mumbling don’t need this as he threw it over his shoulder and it landed in the water with a resounding slap!

“Oh, she’s shy now,” Harry joked, gently removing a strand of wet hair from her cheek. “Come on darling,” he said, trying to coax his wife back out of the shell she’d hidden inside, kissing her on the tip of her nose. “There isn’t another soul for miles. It’s just you and me.”

She knew that, but she still couldn’t shake the nervousness that overcame her just then go away, the mere thought of someone other than Harry seeing her so exposed a little frightening.

Harry pressed a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then the other, and then both sides of her jaw, peppering her face until he was a hair’s breadth away from her lips. He hovered there for a moment, looking at Y/n with a question in his eyes. He could tell she was opening up, the grip her arms had around her body wasn’t so tight anymore.

“You know,” Harry said, letting go of her for a second to locate the top half of her swimsuit. “It’s always been a dream of mine to have sex under a waterfall.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at that admission, mostly because she knew it wasn’t the slightest bit true. Still, she felt the smallest kernel of excitement unfurl inside her. “Since when?”

“Mm...Since about an hour ago,” he replied as he swam back over to her. Harry held out her bikini top, an obnoxious hot pink thing she’d gotten as a joke but seemed to be one of Harry’s favorites while they were on their honeymoon; it was part of the reason she was surprised when he threw it away from them so carelessly.

She scoffed but didn’t immediately take the top back. She knew he was giving her a choice, one that he wouldn’t object to or make a fuss about if she decided to quit while they were ahead.

Still going one hand across her chest, Y/n reached out and took her bikini back from Harry. He wasn’t disappointed, just swam closer to her so he could kiss her again. His interest piqued though when she took the top and set it on the boulder behind her and pulled him closer so that their chests were touching.

“Really?” Harry asked, trying to contain his budding excitement. He’d kind of meant it as a joke but now he really wanted to. Still, even if they were married and had been together a few years prior, he never wanted to make Y/n do something she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with.

She nodded, pulling the hair ties from her braids and uncoiling her hair. “It’s just you and me right?”

“Just you and me,” he told her, pulling her legs back around his waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into her hips next to the fabric of her swimsuit bottoms.

“Then let’s make your dreams come true, shall we?” She asked, then promptly pulled him in for a searing kiss.

Harry didn’t have time to respond, but he would make sure she knew that she had pretty much made every single one of his dreams a reality.

*.*

“Are you going to ignore me all day?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you going to ignore me forever?”

“...No.”

Harry settled down next to where Y/n was lying down on a towel, her face hidden in her arms. To the untrained eye, she was merely suntanning, maybe even sleeping, but Harry knew better. His wife hadn’t spoken a word to him since they’d left the waterfall, only giving him hums or grunts when he asked her a question about whether she was hungry or how they wanted to spend the rest of their day. He was a little embarrassed too, but he was mostly amused by the whole situation.

He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head in his arms so that he was facing his wife. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Y/n turned her head to face him. “‘It’s just you and me,’ he said. ‘Make my dreams come true, baby,’ he said.” She turned her head back around.

“I did not say that,” Harry said, trying to hide his laugh. “Nobody saw anything, I promise.”

“Harry, it was a whole family!” Y/n whisper-shouted at him. “I was topless, I was in a pool under a waterfall, and a whole family swam right over to us.”

He bit his lip, not knowing what else to say. He rested a hand on her back, the strings of her swimsuit now tightly secured around her back and neck. Harry felt a little relieved when she didn’t flinch or shake off his touch, and he began to rub soothing circles into her skin.

Y/n was right, a family had walked, or swam, in their case, in on them. Her entire body went red as she darted away from where Harry had her pinned against that boulder and ducked underwater. Harry quickly shimmied back into his swim trunks and grabbed her bikini from where it was sitting on the boulder like a bright pink signal that told the world what they had been doing. When she came back up, she only raised her head above the water, but Harry could tell her arms were back around her chest again. He tossed Y/n her swimsuit, and she turned around for him to help her tie it.

“I—It came loose,” she had stuttered when the mother gave a curious look in their direction. She, along with what Harry and Y/n assumed was her husband and two young boys, were behind the waterfall and playing around it, the father pointing out different things to them, perhaps distracting his sons while Y/n situated herself. The mother didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look entirely convinced, which made Y/n flush even more, but they didn’t stick around to talk to her, or any other members of her family. She and Harry didn’t say anything as they made the swim of shame back to where their clothes were, and she hadn’t spoken to Harry since.

So now they were back at the beach that stretched along the length of the hotel they were staying at, Y/n trying to sleep and forget while Harry tried to find ways to make her feel better. “Will it make you feel better if I told you you’ll never see them ever again?” He asked her, but she only groaned into the crook of her arm. Rolling his eyes at her childish behavior, he moved even closer to her.

“Hey.”

More groaning.

“Y/nnn,” Harry sing-songed, poking her in the arm.

“What?” She asked, but it sounded more like a whine.

He grinned, even though she couldn’t see it. “I love you.”

“Hmm.”

Harry gasped dramatically in disbelief. “Say it back!”

Y/n didn’t respond at all this time, just shuffled a little farther away from him on her towel. Harry sat up and rolled her over, placing both hands on either side of her head. She studied his face for a moment, noting the new freckles that appeared on his face from spending so much time in the sun, and a tan that complimented his green eyes and gave some of her siblings a run for their money.

“Yes?” she asked, pretending not to know what he wanted.

Harry frowned at her, but it was playful, the corners of his mouth wanting to break out into a grin instead. “You have to say it back.”

“Or what?” Y/n knew that Harry wasn’t at fault for what happened at the waterfall, and now that she’d pouted long enough, she was ready to resume their trip.

“Or...I’ll just have to kiss you,” he said finally.

She gave him a funny look. “That’s not exactly a threat.”

Harry grinned mischievously, and Y/n suddenly wished she hadn’t said anything at all. “Guess I’ll just have to do this then,” he said before flattening himself on top of her. She let out a muffled oof as Harry put all his weight on her, nearly covering her entire body.

“Oh my God, Harry,” Y/n wheezed, trying and failing to push him off. “It is too hot outside for this.”

His hair, curlier now from the heat and their swim earlier, tickled her nose as he nestled against her, apparently having no plans to move anytime soon. Sighing, Y/n started to run a hand through his hair, unable to help her small grin when she felt Harry relax against her. “I love you too,” she whispered into his hair when he eventually fell asleep. She let him sleep on top of her for a little bit, but eventually the late afternoon sun and his body heat became entirely too much and she had to get out from underneath him.

After minutes of carefully peeling Harry off of her, Y/n got up and walked over to the hotel bar that had been set up on the beach. She sat down and ordered a margarita, her eyes widening when two were set in front of her. The bartender pointed to the sign behind her that Y/n had apparently missed. Happy Hour, it read. Two For One Special.

Well, she thought. Why not? She began sipping on the first margarita and chatting with the bartender whenever she wasn’t serving other patrons. The longer she sat there, the more Y/n forgot about the embarrassing slip-up at the waterfall, her mind feeling light and breezy, not a care in the world could reach her as she started in on margarita number four.

“They want to buy you a drink,” Farrah, her bartender, said, pointing to two men a few seats down from where Y/n was.

She looked over at the men in question. They were okay looking, she supposed, very red from not wearing enough sunscreen, but decent looking. Both of them smiled and waved at her, and she did the same, too polite for her own good. Y/n turned back to Farrah and quietly told her no. Farrah winked at her and left to go tell them.

“What is it with this bathing suit? Fucking magic or some shit,” she mumbled to herself, looking down at the cursed thing.

“I, for one, think you look hot.”

Y/n got excited for a moment, but then she heard the voice and the rest of what the person said. Harry never called her hot; he might think it, but his compliments were always more endearing and well thought out. And this person’s voice was definitely not her husband’s.

Looking up she saw the two guys took her rejection as an invitation to come closer. She shot a look at Farrah, feeling betrayed by the kind bartender, but she gave Y/n an apologetic look and shook her head. Guess they hadn’t heeded either of their warnings then.

Y/n played with the ring on her left hand, a habit she had picked up since Harry had proposed. She was too drunk for this. “I—”

She was cut off by the same guy who’d called her hot, asking her all sorts of questions about what she was doing here and why she was all alone.

“Um, I—”

“Are you here with your sorority or something?” The second guy asked.

Sorority? I’m twenty-eight. Y/n looked toward Farrah again, wanting to leave but not without paying her bill. The bartender met her eyes and gave her a shooing motion, letting her know that they would deal with it later.

“Uh…No entiendo” she said in a last-ditch effort to get rid of them. But it seemed like her attempts were in vain, their eyes widening and interest sparking even more.

Ready to bullshit her way through lies and excuses in Spanish, Y/n stood up, stumbling a bit. Not from the alcohol, but because these two men—she didn’t even know their names—were standing too close. Before she could fall on her ass, a hand was on her arm to steady her. She was about to turn around and give this person a piece of her mind, becoming more and more impatient with strangers coming up to her. But Y/n caught a glimpse of the hand that was still wrapped around her arm, spotting a ring on this person’s hand. She knew that ring, she’d helped pick out that ring.

Feeling a sense of relief and giddiness wash over her, she turned around to see Harry. His hair was a little mussed on one side from how he’d been sleeping, and there were grains of sand dotting his cheeks and eyebrows, but in that moment Y/n thought he’d never looked better. On instinct, she latched onto her husband, his skin still warm, and perhaps a little red, from laying in the sun for so long.

Harry wrapped his arms around her immediately, goosebumps prickling his skin when she pressed a tiny kiss to his chest.

He’d woken up a little disoriented, distinctly remembering that Y/n was there when he fell asleep. He walked around aimlessly for a bit, looking up and down the long stretch of coast trying to see where his wife had run off to, occasionally getting stopped for a picture as he went.

To say he was surprised to see her sitting at the hotel bar with two men talking to her was an understatement. It’s not that he didn’t trust his wife, he knew they only had eyes for each other, but something about seeing those guys trying to make a move on her while she most likely tried to rebuff them in the nicest way possible made Harry’s blood boil.

In her current state, Y/n just barely caught the way Harry’s face had become very stoic, or the way Farrah and the two guys that came up to her seemed to recognize who she was with. She smiled dreamily up at him and hugged him tight. “You made it. I was just thinking about you.”

Harry’s glare softened at the slight slurring in his wife's voice, his eyebrows raising as she kissed his chest again and her thumbs rubbed circles into his sides. “Starting without me, I see,” he said, trying not to sound pissed off at the two guys for her sake. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Y/n shot him a knowing look. Maybe she’s more sober than I thought, Harry thought to himself. She shrugged. “These are the men who came up to me at the bar. Men who came up to me at the bar, meet my husband. He’s, like, an indie singer. Really small stuff, so you probably haven’t heard of him, but I think he’s pretty good.”

She heard Farrah snort from behind the bar at her answer, not having expected a response like that. Y/n turned toward Harry, who looked amused but not surprised at how she introduced him, and Farrah assumed that this wasn’t the first time Y/n had said something like this.

“Can we go, bubba?” she asked, looking down at her swimsuit. “With great power comes great responsibility, and I’m not feeling very responsible at the moment.”

“Of course, lovie,” he said as he kissed her temple, trying not to laugh at her nonsensical words. Harry had no idea what his wife was talking about, but that’s why he’d come looking for her anyway.

He reached down to take her hand, but Y/n had other plans. Harry had about two seconds to catch her as she jumped into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. He quietly gave his and Y/n's suite number to the bartender who had been watching this whole scene unfold and gave her a sheepish smile as he waved goodbye and Y/n nuzzled Harry’s neck. Hardly even glancing at the two men who had come up to his wife, Harry walked away, Y/n giving them a friendly wave as they got farther and farther away.

“I missed you,” she told Harry. Her lips grazed his ear, but Harry knew it wasn’t intentional.

“Did you? Why’d you leave then?”

They entered the elevator after Harry stopped to pick up their things. He got a couple of odd looks, but Harry didn’t pay them any mind. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to carry Y/n after she’d had more than a few drinks. She had always been the kind of drunk who liked to cuddle and give hugs to whoever was in sight, but over time she only ever wanted Harry when she got like this. He didn’t mind, of course. He felt like it was the only time Y/n ever let him really take care of her; even when she was sick, which wasn’t often, she was constantly evading Harry as he tried to get her back into bed to rest.

“Well, when you decided to sleep on me, it got very hot, so I went to the bar where I met Farrah, and then some guys must’ve realized that I’m really hot because they tried to buy me a drink, but I told them no, but they came over anyway. Like magic, I’m telling you.”

Harry let her ramble while he walked them back to their suite, but his interest piqued at the end. “What is love?”

“What is what?” she asked him, her head tilting to one side.

He laughed and shook his head at her. “You said something was like magic, but you didn’t say what.”

Y/n had to think about it for a moment as Harry set her down on the bed. “Oh, I remember! It was my bathing suit,” she told him, standing up from the bed and taking it off, throwing it behind her. Harry watched amusedly while she wandered around their suite and pulled on a hoodie; his hoodie, he quickly realized. “So many people were staring at it today. You, those two boys at the waterfall, those guys at the bar. Magic, it’s gotta be.”

Harry didn’t bother to change out of his swim trunks as he got into bed with her, Y/n quickly latching onto him again. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t so much the swimsuit as her in the swimsuit, but she was already onto the next thing.

“What are you up to over there?” he asked her as he felt her kiss the back of his neck.

“I’m just cuddling,” she said simply, her lips moving against his skin.

Harry turned so that they were facing each other, but Y/n only buried her face into the crook of his neck again. “As someone who has been cuddled by you before, I can say with certainty that this isn't always the norm.”

She squeezed him tighter, her fingers finding purchase in his hair. She didn’t answer him at first, and for a moment, Harry thought she wasn’t going to. She leaned back and brought her mouth to his, her lips soft and warm and tasting faintly of tequila.

“I’m kissing all the jealousy away,” she told him when she pulled away, their noses still touching.

“What?” Harry laughed, surprised by her confession.

Y/n leaned even further back and raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how grumpy you were back there, mister. I’m a little tipsy, not stupid.”

He kissed her cheek, smiling when he felt her grin against his lips.“I was better this time though, wasn’t I?”

“Mm, I would say you’re improving, yes,” Y/n answered.

Harry had a habit of getting jealous every now and again when they went out together. It was mostly because Y/n was too nice and didn’t realize when someone was flirting with her, and she was the kind of person who liked to use touch as a form of expression—hands on the arm, playful shoves to the shoulder. She never meant any harm by it, but Harry couldn’t help but feel a little jealous whenever someone leaned a little too close or tried to buy her a drink. Y/n always kissed his cheek and told him not to worry, trying to wipe the scowl off his face the best she could. He’d gotten better about hiding it over time, but she always seemed to know what Harry was thinking, sometimes before he even thought it.

“So, I was going to suggest drinking all night to forget this afternoon, but you started without me,” Harry said now, brushing a strand of hair out of his wife’s face.

Her eyes went round with excitement. “Oh, can we, bubba? Please?”

“Look where we are, lovie,” Harry replied, looking at the way they were cuddled up on the hotel bed. “Do you really want to get up right now?”

Y/n nodded, already starting to sit up and pulling Harry up with her. “Yes. I know how much you love to dance with me,” she said, smiling a little.

Getting up from the bed, she started rummaging around through her husband’s things to find something for him to wear. She walked back to where Harry was still sitting on the bed and handed him a button-up and a pair of shorts. “Unless you’re still recovering from the wedding and are using me as an excuse?”

Harry stared at his wife for a moment before rolling his eyes and taking the clothes in her hands. He wanted to argue with her about their wedding night, but she was kind of right, having taken one too many shots with her brothers and not quite ready to relive it. “Alright, you win. What’s the second shirt for?”

Y/n looked down at the shirt in her hands, then back to Harry. “We’re going to match, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

So Harry and Y/n went to some club that night, each dressed in one of his patterned Hawaiian shirts and ready to dance the night away. Hers pretty much covered her shorts and fell to one side to expose one shoulder, but she walked hand in hand with her husband like she was strutting down a runway. They looked a little silly, but neither of them cared one bit, the only thing on their minds was each other and the life spent together ahead of them.

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daisyblog · 3 months

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Love Day

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.

“Happy Valentine’s Day baby!” Harry whispered to YN, whose eyes were still closed as they laid in bed. With his hand resting on her now rounded tummy, Harry placed a small peck to her exposed skin, where his white t shirt at risen up her bump. “And happy Valentine’s Day to my other favourite girl!”.

YN’s lips turned up slightly when she felt his lips kissing her baby bump, where their little girl was growing nicely. “Happy Valentine’s Day Mr Styles!”. YN tugged at his arm so he was now hovering above her, her hands sitting on his bare shoulders.

“G’morning Mrs Styles!”. Harry smiled into the kiss, their lips moving slowly against the other. Their hands gently exploring the others body. “God I love calling you my wife.”.

Wednesday had started with a lazy morning for the newly wed couple, Harry had made them both breakfast in bed, which later resulted with their clothes being thrown on the floor and the pair tangled in between the sheets.

Before they got out of bed, Harry pulled a white envelope from behind his back. “I know we said we weren’t going to do presents…but I couldn’t resist this one and it’s kind of for both of us”.

“Harry!” YN whined and her now plump lips from a busy morning pouted. “We agreed”. She carefully opened the envelope and inside was an appointment card for a private baby scan dated for that day. “Is this a joke?”.

“No…no joke baby”. Harry reassured her, as he smiled brightly, his white teeth on full display. “We’re going to see our baby!” YN pulled him closer and placed her lips on his whilst she mumbled ‘thank you’ over and over again.

After showering and getting ready for the day, they headed out for the afternoon for a walk around London. They had stopped off at a small coffee shop for a drink and some donuts. They were sat at the back of the cosy vintage shop and Harry couldn’t help but smile as YN took a bite of her donut.

“Whot?” YN eyed Harry suspiciously, wondering why he was grinning at her all of a sudden. She dabbed the napkin against her mouth quickly. “Do I have something on me face?”.

“No…I was just thinking about our first Valentine’s Day and now we’re married with our baby girl on the way”. Harry’s hand naturally went to YN’s tummy, where he could feel some movement of their daughter.

“I guess our wishes did come true!”.

---

12th of February 2012

As One Direction were on tour in Glasgow on Valentine’s Day, Harry had planned for YN to stay at the flat after their London show to celebrate early. He wanted to wine and dine her, but with YN still being seventeen it just wasn’t possible. So to Harry’s benefit, Louis was travelling to Scotland earlier than the rest of the boys which meant he had the flat to himself.

Whilst YN was in the bath, and pampering herself ahead of the relaxing night they had planned, Harry was getting the living room ready with blankets, pillows, duvets, snacks and everything else they needed. He had just finished lighting some candles, that created a soft glow in the room, when YN entered.

YN was cuddled on Harry’s lap, the film playing in the background as they both spoke, not really paying attention to the film. YN’s fingers played with the strings on Harry’s hoodie. “Do you ever think about the future?”.

“Yeh quite a bit actually” he confessed, as he moved his hand to YN’s exposed thigh. “Why? Do you?”.

She only nodded as her fingers continued to twist the cotton. “What do you want yours to look like?”.

Harry scratched the back of his neck, whilst he thought. “I want to be happy…I’d like to have a wife and children…uh yeah keep making music and touring”. He could see YN try to hide her smile. He wanted to add that he’d like that life with her, but only being a few months into their relationship he was worried it may come across too much. “What about you?”.

“Well I’m just going to be really forward…I want to be your wife and have a family with you”. YN said matter of fact. Harry could feel the pink appear on his cheeks as he tried to act cool about the conversation.

---

Entering the small private clinic, Harry and YN were greeted with a warm welcome from the lady behind the reception desk. “Oh waw…you are glowing!”. She complimented YN as she stood in front of her.

“Aww thank you…I think being pregnant is my new favourite thing!”. YN smiled and let out a chuckle at Harry’s raised eyebrows.

The receptionist took some details from YN before they were both told to sit in the waiting room. They didn’t have to wait long until a young female called.

“Mrs Styles?”. Her voice was soft and a warm smile filled her face. They followed her into a smaller room which had a bed and a few chairs by the side of it. “Come on in…I’m Jessica and this is Paula”. She pointed towards the older woman who sat on a chair near a desk.

“Ahh so you’re the famous Harry that Jess is always talking about!” Paula revealed, a teasing tone to her voice, showing the type of relationship the two colleagues had.

“Paula!”. The younger of the two gave her a warning look. But Harry and YN only laughed and reassured her that it was okay. “I am a fan…but I am professional and I wouldn’t reveal any of your details”.

“You’re alright babe…it’s nothing I wouldn’t reveal myself”. YN’s laid back tone was enough to reassure her.

YN laid down on the bed, Harry taking a seat next to the bed. They had been to a few scans already so it was like second nature to them both now. As Jessica got the probe ready, YN pulled up her jumper and lowered her leggings down that exposed her bump.

Within a few minutes, they could see their baby girl moving her arms and legs around on the smaller screen. “Oh you have a very active little one”.

“She’s following her Daddy!”. YN teased Harry.

“You know you’re having a little girl…how sweet!”. Paula smiled over to the couple, totally in her element at the scene in front of her.

“YN’s always said I’m a girl Dad…whatever that means”. Harry revealed, looking between the screen in awe at how much their daughter had grown.

Jessica smiled down at YN. “She’s growing beautifully in there…she’s weighing about two pounds always so whatever you’re doing Mama, keep doing it.”.

YN and Harry walked out of the clinic with bright smiles, new photos of their little girl, along with a few extra gifts from the two women, a teddy that played their daughters heartbeat and a free appointment for another scan.

“The best Valentine’s Day yet…don’t you think”. YN spoke as they spoke drove home.

“And next year will be even better!”. Harry looked down at YN’s bump.

ynstyles

liked by annetwist, lottietomlinson, and 2,675,986 others

ynstyles Happy Valentine’s Day to my Husband and Baby Daddy❤️ View all 12,877 comments

harrystyles Happy Valentine’s Day Mrs Styles! X ⌞harryfan4 HARRY!! ⌞ 1dfan6 MRS STYLES!! 🥹🥹🥹 ⌞ harryfan9 hi Harry!!!

niallhoran Aww my three favourite Styles’😂See you soon xx ⌞ ynstyles Baby Styles is excited for her Uncle Niall’s tour 🫶🏼

gemmastyles Too cute 🥹

annetwist Love you three very much 🤍🤍🤍

lottietomlinson Look beautiful sis😘 ⌞ ynstyles It runs in the genes babes ❤️

louist91 Watch your hands Harold!!😂 ⌞ynstyles A bit late for that Lou, not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m already pregnant xx ⌞harryfan3 these two never fail to make me laugh😂😂😂 ⌞louisfan7 the best siblings❤️

louteasdale How are you married? I swear we were just on tour😉

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

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turtledovenycx · 7 months

Text

𝗦𝗰𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀 (𝗛.𝗛𝗝)

🎧Adore you - Harry Styles

“Come for me angel, I wanna see you lose yourself on me.”

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞

𝐖.𝐂 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐱 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯), 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱. W𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭), 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲.

The stillness of the morning is disrupted by the soft moans and whimpers. You sat clad in one of Hyunjin’s long shirts- his artist shirt- the buttons almost undone, your tits exposed for him. It was clear why couples enjoyed wearing each other's clothes. Did all of them get aroused like Hyunjin or was he just horny 24/7 you couldn’t tell, but then again you were not complaining either.

“What are you thinking about sweetheart?” Hyunjin asked, his morning voice breaking you from your monologue. “Thinking of how you ended up on my lap, grinding on my cock before eight in the morning? Hmm?” His shameless words made your face warm, your cheeks dusting pink.

You had been the first to wake up that day feeling chilly as you both lay naked under the duvet, limbs all tangled. Your boyfriend is still fast asleep. It was too compelling to stay in bed but you decided against it untangling yourself from Hyunjin you placed a soft kiss on his cheek before exiting the bedroom his long shirt in hand. The coffee machine hummed to life as you prepared coffee for the two of you. Hyunjin was busy looking at his phone when you re-enter the room. “Morning baby, did you make coffee alr-” His words are cut off as he sees you standing at the foot of the bed. The sunlight that seeps from the gaps of the window blinds accentuates the shape of your body when you step in its path, placing the coffee mugs on the bedside table.

He couldn't stop himself from grabbing your arms and pulling into bed. Again. You giggle in the process making him put on his signature smirk. After he successfully propped you on his lap, your legs on either side of him, he took a moment to take you in. Bare-faced, hair slightly a mess, and in his clothes. He couldn't take his eyes off your raw beauty.

“Pretty baby, you’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, you nodding along and acknowledging his observation. “You look good….” He said placing his head in the crook of your neck and sighing slightly, his warm breath tickling you.

“Jinnie…..” you breathed, as he bit the soft skin of your neck before kissing it and moving to mark the skin behind your ear.

You moaned, one hand placed on the nape of his neck the other on his chest gently prying him off your neck to meet his brown eyes. The long-haired man was still very much naked sans the duvet. His sleepiness was almost gone, eyes now glazed over with lust and adoration. Without another word, he placed his lips on yours guiding you in a passionate yet soft kiss. The coffee was forgotten on the table.

As his lips moulded with yours and kept you distracted-somewhat- Hyunjin began undoing the top buttons of the shirt, exposing your body to the early breeze in the room. He placed searing kisses on your lips and kissed his way from your lips to your jugular, your collarbone the top of your chest. Your sweet gasps edged him on and as your squirmed on his lap the duvet fell off, goosebumps raisin on his body because of the cold. You were sitting atop his bare cock now.

“Feel me baby?” he asked taking your hands from his shoulder and placing them on his crotch between your bodies. “Do you feel how hard I am? You do this to me? Mmh … god.” he whispered, groaning into your ears as he persuaded you to palm him. His kisses were desperate and messy. You held onto his shaft feeling how warm and heavy he was in your hand before slowly stroking him to full hardness. Hyunjin groaned into your neck as he held you close, arm around your waist. Even with the limited space you pumped him the best you could, collecting spit on your palm as lube which he rewarded with a kiss, hip bucking into your hands as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

He could not take it for long, a few minutes of you stroking he was a whimpery moaning mess at the peak of pleasure. Sensitive from waking up now Hyunjin had his girl in his clothes gripping and touching his dick the big shirt slipping down her shoulder exposing one of her breasts. He came with a loud groan, biting your shoulder as you looked at him through your lashes and smiled. Hyunjin gasped as he saw you lick your hands clean with the most innocent expression.

His deep breath filled the room for a few seconds before he took you by surprise and began kissing your tits.

“Ah-h. H-Hyunjin..” a broken moan leave you as the man took your right nipple into his mouth using his tongue to stimulate it before sucking on the hardened bud. The sensation maddening, you writhed on top of him. He knew how to rile you up how sensitive your pretty nipples were, always hard from his touch.

“Stay still baby.” he tutted as he gave the same affection to your unattended breast. Your moans consumed him as he placed kisses along your torso reaching skin as much as his neck would allow in that position. What he could not touch with his lips his slender fingers aided. Fluttering touches on your inner thigh contrast with his bruising grip on your waist. You cried out as his fore and middle finger slowly entered you, thumb circling your clit.

The sting subsided as his fingers slowly worked you open. Hyunjin had steady hands from being an artist a watercolor master at that. He stroked your insides with the same gentleness he used to control his brush. His fingers maintained a steady pace your pussy making a squelching sound in the otherwise quiet room.

“Hyun… Hyunnie please..” you whined moving your hips in tandem. Hyunjin released your waist and he leaned back on one hand to look at you desperately moving on his fingers.

“Oh pretty.... look at you. Fucking yourself on my fingers wanna come?” he teased your thumb rubbing small precise figures on your swollen clit.

You nodded with an 'mmph' as he started to scissor his fingers.

“No please.” you moaned as he pulled it out completely bringing his fingers into his mouth sucking your wetness off.

Your breath was ragged as you watched him. Hyunjin frantically undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt slipping it off, your naked body on his now. You brought your hands to cover yourself but he stopped you. “What have I told you about covering yourself in front of me? hmm?” he asked holding both your hands behind you as he adjusted your body slipping his cock into your cunt with his other palm.

You moaned and Hyunjin sighed at the feeling of him entering you. He used his free hand to bring your face to his kissing your lips. “Jinnie… move..” you whispered trying to wriggle your hands free from his hold and move your hips. Hyunjin chuckled before thrusting up into you, entering deeper.

“Ngh..ah” the angle was too much the curve of his shaft perfectly nudging your soft spot making you whine.

“Oh baby, you feel so warm….” Hyunjin said hips picking up speed as he pushed himself in and out of your pussy. The sound of skin slapping and moans made an erotic symphony as you arched your back. Hyunjin rested his forehead on your sternum hips unfaltering as they thrusted into you.

“Hyun- I’m gonna…. please I want to come?” you told him. He released your hands as he used both of his to hold onto your body fucking you onto his cock. Your hips met his halfway as you held onto his shoulder finger gripping his hair and pushing his face into the crook of your neck.

“You gonna come beautiful? You clos- ...oh god you're squeezing me…” he said biting the skin of your neck before gripping your chin and shoving his tongue into your mouth muffling your sounds. His fingers moved to gently press your clit.

“Come for me angel, I wanna see you lose yourself on me.” his words were like affirmations your pussy obliged soon finishing on his dick. He followed all broken moans and stuttering hips.

You rested your forehead on his as the two of caught your breath. “Well, the coffee is cold now,” Hyunjin said breaking the atmosphere and you giggled. He kissed your lips once, twice, once more before you stopped him.

“I need to wash up.” you said sitting straighter hands locked behind his neck.

“Good idea. I’ll eat you out in the shower.” Hyunjin said throwing the duvet farther before getting up.

“What?! No Hyunjin! Put me down!!” you yelped as he carried you out of the bedroom. You wriggled your feet as he landed a soft slap on your ass laughing maniacally.

The birds chirped outside as the sun’s scattered rays entered the room. The two of you entered the bathroom shutting the door. Hyunjin pushed you into the shower cabin. It was his day off and Hyunjin did not plan on using it to rest. What a great morning!

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

A/N: Just a short one-shot thingy inspired by a soft Hyunjin thought I had I hope you enjoy it.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #nyx writings.☽༊˚#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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grapejuicestyless · 3 months

Text

Our Last Dance

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is Harry’s childhood best friend and the only person he’s been able to hang onto as his popularity grew. Y/n wasn’t as successful in life, but she wants to be able to do something nice for Harry one last time.(inspired by Aftersun…Warning: there is a lot of detail about vomit in this if that bothers you and depression/suicide.)

“It’s not much, but it’s right by the beach so I thought it might be nice.” I’ve known Harry for over two decades. He’s been my best friend since I was seven, I know everything there is to know about him. I know who he is, yet I still can’t help but feel ashamed when we stumble into the dusty hotel room, one large king sized bed sat in the center of the room and a balcony overlooking the blue oceans of Italy and an old handy cam from nineteen ninety something dangling from my wrist.

“No, no. It’s great.” Placing his suitcase on the tile flooring of the small bathroom, he flashes me a genuine smile before he peels back the bedsheets and checks the corners thoroughly for anything that could raise red flags.

“I could have sworn I paid for two beds, I don’t know how they mixed that up.” Running a hand through my hair, it only now hit me that there was only one place to sleep in the room. Usually, it would be no big deal seeing as Harry and I often spend our time together glued at the hip in his large bed or cramped together in my mid sized one. But I paid extra money to have the extra mattress, and money was tighter than usual and I just wanted everything to be perfect.

Harry simply shrugged it off, laying back against the headboard while dialing the front desks number with his right hand and welcoming me into his arms with his left one.

“I don’t have cooties, you know.” Shooting him a glare, I lay my head against his chest and take the phone in my hand that wasn’t wrapped underneath his waist. I feel one of his hands play around with the band on my wrist to grab the camera from me while he waits. The phone rings for some time before the monotone voice of the teenager working the front desk cracked through the shitty phone speakers.

Harry didn’t listen to much of the conversation, choosing to run his fingers through my hair and hum quietly under his breath, playing around with any buttons he could find on the camera.

“So thats the best you can do?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten like an elastic band. I raised from my spot on Harry’s chest, sitting on my knees and slouching in defeat, “No, I don’t need that. If I could get my money back though, for the extra bed?” Looking at Harry, I shook my head in question, sighing without making a sound.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you so much.” Before I could continue my passive aggressive approach to the situation, the line beeped dead and Harry began to crack a smile.

“’s not funny!” I slurred my words, feeling the ache between my bones hit me at that very moment. I let my body fall into Harry’s chest once again, sighing at the vanilla scent from his cologne that fills my nose and the warmth from his body despite the sweltering heat from the Italian summer making our joints extra sticky with sweat. A soft thud on the bedside table on Harry’s side tells me he’s done playing around on the camera and has turned his full attention to me.

“I don’t mind being stuck with you, y’know.” He tries to downplay the situation, diffusing my rising anxiety about expenses he recognizes in my mannerisms and my attitude. Huffing in response, I roll off of him and sprawl out like a starfish. My eyes find a home in the ceiling and I feel Harry take my right hand in his, “Why don’t we go to the pool? Why waste such a nice night pouting, yeah?” He tilts his head towards our bags that are still in the bathroom, and when our eyes meet, we both know someway or another he’s going to drag me down there.

“Race you?” I regret my words when I feel him scramble off the bed beside me, letting me get tangled in the sheets while he strips into his bright yellow swim trunks and dad-like flip flops. I laugh about it not being fair while I clasp my top in the back and desperately try and kick my sandals on but he’s already out the door, leaving it wide open as he runs down the slippery stairs and all but dives into the deep end of the teal waters.

“Come on in, the waters just fine!” He laughs, urging me to join him and I’ve never felt more alive as I full sprint off the edge of the cement and fall into the pool with my best friend.

“I call it a tie!” Water falls from my hairline as I break the water’s surface.

“What? No way, I smoked your ass!” Harry splashes me, hopping back when he sees me approaching him with a mischievous grin.

“You had a false start, I was not ready. So, as the officiator of this match, I have decided to add on penalty time meaning we tied.” The water creates a wave like pattern on our bodies, illuminating our sun kissed skin a hue of bluish-green and hiding any fading sunburns from the beginning of summer.

“You little minx!” He rushes towards me and I can feel my heart beating through my chest.

When he wraps his arms around my torso and threatens to dunk me, I can’t help the ugly giggles that bubble out of my mouth and shake my whole body. I can’t help the way my hands claw at his skin to keep me afloat even though I know he would never dunk me if I didn’t want him to or the way his laughter only makes my ribs tougher and my stomach ache worse.

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me!” Wrapping my hands around his shoulders, I somehow manage to maneuver myself in a way that has us both flipping into the six foot deep end.

I imagine the people who are sleeping just beside the pool are thankful for the brief silence when we are submerged, and I swear someone screams at us to shut the hell up when we start coughing and screaming again at the sudden chill of pool water soaking our drying skin.

“Best vacation ever!” Harry yells it in my ear, watching how I flinch away and cover my ears with my fingers and grimace, bearing all my teeth when I groan through them but also smiling while I do it.

I jump up onto his back, holding him like a koala bear and try my best not to slip off of his wet body.

“I know!” Somehow, we end up in the water again, and I don’t mind the sting of water in my nose or how I cough a large amount of it out over the edge of the pool when we break the surface again because Harry’s patting my back while I do it, and I do the same for him.

It’s funny and delirious and stupid, but the pool is occupied by us until our skin is pruned until there’s no more wrinkles to create and our lips are more blue than the water we swim in. And I swear, it feels like flying.

“One long island on the rocks!” He held up one finger but quickly held up another and corrected himself, “No, wait, two! Two on the rocks please!” He slurred, slapping a twenty down on the bar and handing one of the orangey-red drinks to me.

The glasses clinked together, sloshing the liquid within them and knocking my lime to the ground with a splat. Still, neither of us cared much, choosing to smile and laugh while we make our way back to the sandy shores of the nearby beach.

“This tastes so good! He knew what he was doing!” Pointing at my glass, I nod my head enthusiastically, feeling my cheeks start to hurt with how big I was smiling.

“No, you’re just drunk! I would know, I am too!” Harry stumbles all the way to the sand, downing the glass and setting it on the top of a nearby trashcan along with my half finished one.

“Heyyy, I wasn’t done!” Taking my hands in his, Harry begins pulling me to the waves that crashed down onto the sand, laughing at how my feet struggle to keep up with his in our drunken states.

“Come on, I’m hot!” The water hit our skin like a ton of bricks, tiny icicles hitting up to our hips and before we could turn back, a large wave knocked us over and fully submerged our goosebump covered bodies.

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” It didn’t necessarily hurt, being in the water and splashing around in it’s freezing temperatures, but it was shocking, especially with the extra heat of alcohol roasting us underneath the warmth of the summer sun.

Neither of us speak for a moment, choosing to hold our arms away from our bodies and look down at ourselves like we are trying to air dry our limbs after the accidental ice bath.

A puff of air leaves Harry’s mouth, followed by another and another. I look up to see him, and he’s already looking at me with a smile plastered on his face and giggles falling from his drunken lips. I’m only acutely aware of the heavy feelings in my limbs, but my own giggles falling from my lips mask the weird sensation and I don’t really care for it.

“You have seaweed on your…” Pointing to the top of his head, I look at the very small piece of the plant tangled in his curly brown hair, it almost looks like it’s part of it.

Harry picks it out, dangling in front of his face and smiling at it for a second. Then, he throws it at me.

“Ew! No-Harry!” Flinching away, I splash more water onto the both of us and feel the shock of it too, but I can’t stop moving, even after it’s fallen into the water in front of me, only barely touching my arm. Harry doesn’t seem to mind the water anymore though, sitting back and watching my overdramatic reaction to his antics. It’s only after I stop flailing about that he leans his too half into the water, scooping up a larger chunk of the plant and staring at me like a man with a plan.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare!” Running through the water feels impossible, each stride I take being slowed by the movement of the shallow waves and the uneven surface of the rocks and the sand underneath my feet. I can hear his breathing just behind my ears, and the sloshing of his feet breaking through the water makes my heart pound faster.

I’m not sure where the chase disperses, when he gets tired of chasing me and decides to call a truce, but Harry stops chasing me after a good long while, metallic taste in our mouths rising from our throats and breathing so heavy, I think for a second I’ll have to go running to find Harry’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” His voice fades in and out of my ears, I’m too focused on the taste in my throat and the steady restriction of my throat. I feel it bubbling up, and the saliva in my mouth seems to multiply. I’m on the brink of sobriety, or something close to it, so when he calls after me as I fight my way out of the ocean, I keep steady on my path to the one open trashcan just down the shore.

My hands grip the edge of the hot black plastic rim, bending myself forward and popping my foot up to better submerge myself into the opening. A gag followed by another and another shakes my entire body before everything spews out of me in an orangey-lime colored mess. I can still taste the alcohol on my breath, and I can feel the tears behind my eyes.

Harry came to rub my back and hold my hair, rubbing circles and looking away so I won’t feel embarrassed after.

Rising from the trashcan, I notice he also looks a bit paler than before, his eyes carry a baggage I never noticed and his lips are chapped.

“Fuck.” Wiping anything that could have gotten on my lips away, Harry laughs at me in the same drunken way he did in the water.

“What? What?!” I catch myself laughing, holding my stomach and feeling it turn underneath my palms. He directs his head towards the ocean, leaning against the trashcan now and somehow ignoring the smell.

“Real amateur move, just threw up in the great big ocean like any other person.” He jokes, and I feel my face contort with disgust. I would have laughed harder if I were still completely hammered, but after physically ridding myself of most of what I have consumed within the past few hours, I’m beginning to feel the effects washing off and leaving behind an intense pounding in my head.

“You’re disgusting.” Looking behind me, I make sure Harry is still following me. The day isn’t even close to being over yet, but with us pouring down shots at ten in the morning like it’s water, it feels more like midnight rather than midday.

Weaving between dirt paths made from excessive use on grassy areas and sidewalks that lead us to where we need to be, Harry and I are complaining about how heavy our feet feel and how tired we are getting. The drunk highs have already passed and all we can focus on is the plushy bed waiting for us at the hotel.

“Y/n!” Harry’s hand pulls me back, his chest hitting my spine with the force he uses against me. My foot that had stepped off of the sidewalk to cross the road to get to our hotel is yanked back onto the higher ground, a bus honking as it speeds by. I can feel his heartbeat pounding into my body and the sweat gathering on his palms. He mumbles something under his breath, the but ringing of the horn is still overwhelming my eardrums and drowning out everything else.

Truly, I don’t care that much about the incident, it wouldn’t mean much anyway if I had kept going. I probably would have made it, or worse case scenario, the wheel nicks my foot. But it has Harry all up in arms, checking the road on both sides multiple times before he decides it’s safe to cross. I’ll blame it on my drunkenness or my tiredness, and Harry will scold me, if we don’t fall asleep first. Which we do.

Or rather, he does.

The softness of the bed is nice, something that I was able to sink into the night before when I reached a point of absolute exhaustion, but now it feels too soft on my back that is used to my hard mattress at home. The pillows are flat, or at least mine are, and the blankets are scratchy.

The tiles in the bathroom are cold, a deep blue color that compliments the boring grey walls nicely. The toilet creaks as I shift all my weight down onto it, a bottle that resembles aloe vera to my left and a bucket of water to my right.

The cap pops open quietly, and the gel pours out of it with a fight. It’s been left behind somehow, and nobody has come to collect it. It’s gooey and it smells odd, sticking together in clumps between my fingers and pulling at my arm hair when I try to spread it.

My eyes are too heavy and my fingers are lazy, I can’t even try to fight against the thick mess rubbing into my skin.

Sighing, I give up on the gel, not liking the tug, even though the cold feels good on my skin. It’s when I close the cap again, holding the previously discarded bottle in my hands I realize I’ve read it wrong in my sleepy haze. It’s only so gooey because it’s not aloe vera, but rather a hair gel with aloe vera in it.

“What the fuck?” It goes straight into the trash, right next to the water bucket which is swiftly slid over to sit right in front of me, propped between my ankles.

It doesn’t pull off easy, taking some hair with it. My skin feels slimy for a little, but no longer sticky. I think it’s probably because in a way, I’ve just waxed my arms because I’m too damn lazy to thoroughly read a bottle. Other than the horrible feeling of it, I don’t mind the inconvenience of it. It wasn’t like I was going to sleep anytime soon, and it distracted from the pounding in my head. I wonder silently if Harry packed anything for pain? I hadn’t, I’d barely remembered to pack enough shirts and he always has those kind of things.

Treading lightly along the carpeted floors and looking over my shoulder, I see Harry passed out on his stomach, a little wet spot collecting under his cheek which is firmly pressed against the comforter. The zipper to his bag is much louder than mine, it’s also ten times more expensive than mine and newer. But he has the money to spend, and I would do the same if I were him. I just wish with how much money it cost that they would have opted for a quieter zipper. I think back to when we were still in school, taking calculus and cheating off of each other and stealing notes. Harry was always a very heavy sleeper in his teen years, but it feels like the more well known he becomes, the more jumpy he is in his sleep. Maybe it’s because of the constant pressure of pleasing his fans or the rigorous schedule his team put him on in his early twenties, but it eases the aching in my chest to think it’s just because he’s getting older.

A tiny pack of aspirin catches my attention in the first pocket I open along side some deodorant and toothpaste. An odd combination, but very Harry.

Opening it with a struggle because of the damn child lock caps, I see there are only three left. All that struggle only to be able to take one. After all, it’s not mine and Harry would surely need more than me after the current coma he was inducing, his groaning and complaining is something I can already hear. I swallow it dry and drift over to the balcony.

The sun is still so high in the sky, it’s only just past one now. Children play and cars pass, the breeze is blowing my shirt against my body and cooling the sweat that is collecting on my upper lip.

Harry is passed out in bed and my body is more awake than ever. It’s funny because it’s usually him calling my phone late at night telling me he’s on the way over and to get myself ready because we’re going out. I smile to myself, all of our best memories happen just before we get drunk it seems like. The wine spilling on his carpet after his first grammy win, or the deep conversations curled up in the corner of some bar while we nurse some strong beverages and laugh about all of our shitty lovers and toxic exes.

“Harry.” Calling out to him from the balcony, I find it’s much more comfortable out here in the breeze, where it feels like flying if you stick out your arms and close your eyes, rather than laying like a dead man in a stuffy hotel room.

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even shift. He still has the redness in his cheeks that tequila stains him with and the sweat collecting on his hairline. He looks completely at peace with himself, unbothered by the broken air conditioning and the overworked fan humming away in the corner.

I decide that just because he isn’t up for an adventure, I shouldn’t sit around and wait for him to find one. Theres a crinkled up receipt on the floor just by the foot of the bed, it’s got his name on the top and a long list of drinks down the length of it. I flip it over and flatten out. There’s no good pens, only a half dead one on the dresser that makes loud scratching sounds every time it passes over the paper.

Gone out, couldn’t sleep. Be back in an hour. Love you always and forever! Xoxo, your best friend.

It sits stuck with an edge trapped beneath the phone on the bedside table, the rest of it blows softly every time the fan rotates in that direction. Harry scrunches his nose slightly every time the breeze hits him, it feels nice in the summer heat and even better with the extra warmth in our veins. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, it makes a moment like this sweeter. A memory only I’ll remember and get to carry with me.

I hope no matter what happens my brain never fails me, so that when I die and go wherever I’m supposed to be in the afterlife, I can still have my memories to hold onto and I’ll be able to carry his smile with me as I roam the empty earth alone.

“These glasses are nice.” My fingers run over the rims, feeling the smoothness of the glossy finish over the tortoiseshell color. Harry has a very similar pair, only the temple tips of his have worn down and there are scratches on the lenses. He has plenty of sunglasses, but he those are his favorite. He insists on wearing them even when some of his have never been touched.

“How much are they?” Holding them up to my eyes, I move them back and forth to watch the darkened parts of the world shrink and expand within the round boarders.

“A hundred.” The man behind the counter smiles nicely at me, watching how delicately my hands hold the glasses between my fingers. I clear my throat and fold the temples in.

“Sorry, in pounds?” He lulls his head back, thinking and clicking his tongue while he counts.

“About eighty five pounds, one hundred seven US dollars.” I nod my head and place them on the counter. As soon as I do so, the man seems to be quick to swoop them up and clean away any marks left behind with a cloth. It almost makes me laugh.

“Uhm…” I dig through my wallet, looking at what I have left. I’ve emptied most of my account into my wallet for this extended weekend. My savings going into the tickets and the hotel room, which felt more like a motel, and some change going towards drinks and food. Still, I have nearly double what I need for it left in my wallet and motivation that makes me dig it out of the leathery pocket and hand it over to the man. “Eighty five, right there.” I smile up at him and he smiles back. He gives me the glasses back in a fancy case with a magnetic button that seals them away safely which is wrapped tightly in light blue wrapping paper. It crinkles in my hands, but I think it’s just lovely. Harry will love it.

“Thank you. Have a good day!” A bell chimes when I exit the store, and the stifling heat outside makes my already prominent eye bags feel ten times heavier than before. I feel the same sluggish feeling I did after the beach, only this time it’s accompanied by a real sense of tiredness only the overly soft bed can fix.

The sounds of the passing cars and the ticking of crosswalk signals all sort of blur into the distance the closer I get to the room. My key is stuffed in with the crinkled bills and old coupons that have expired long ago. I’m so focused on getting into the warm comforts of the room, I don’t hear the shuffling around inside of it or the angelic humming of my best friend just on the other side of the door.

“Y/n/n!” He looks like he’s been hit by a bus. A really beautiful, clean, expensive bus. Even hungover with dry drool on his cheek the man still manages to resemble one of those greek statues that proudly display their defined features and sharp jawlines.

He has the bottle of Advil in one hand and the handy cam presses in the palm of the other. He moves it close to my face until I swat it down, laughing at him like he wanted.

My thumb presses against his cheek, my palm cupping his chin. I wipe away the dry drool and make a mental note to wash my hands before I touch anything else.

“Have a nice sleep?” His tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick away my hand and for the second time today I grimace in disgust and back off, but not before wiping the wet patch down his arm.

“It was okay. Woke up a little after you left, I think. Thought you up and left me until I found the note.” He jokes.

“How’d you know I wasn’t just in the bathroom then if you didn’t see the note?” I see now that he’s moved it over to another table in the room and that the phone it was under is moved to the further side of the table.

“I didn’t hear snoring.” I hit his arm. “Ow!”

“Asshole!” He laughs at me and for a second I think about hitting him again, but this time over the top of his head.

“You love me.” I shake my head, walking to the bathroom to piss or vomit, I’m not really sure.

“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’, closing the door and locking it in his face.

“Yes you do, you liar! You wrote it right here! Love you always and forever, xoxo, your best friend! You put two different kinds of love in one note! You must really love me!” I open the door and throw a towel at him before slamming it shut again.

“Don’t love you enough to not debate tossing you over the balcony right now!” I hear him laugh at that and for a second, as we wind down from our fits of giggles it’s completely quiet.

“I do love you though.” I admit softly, hunched over the toilet and smiling.

“I knew it!” I can practically hear his gloating grin in his shouting and I wonder how no one has come knocking at our door to tell us to shut up yet.

I shush him aggressively, placing a finger to my lips even though he cant see it, “Quiet! Please, can’t a girl throw up in peace?” Harry groans, but his back doesn’t lift from the door and his shadow doesn’t move.

“Do you need me to hold your hair?” I don’t answer him, instead I unlock the door, holding back a gag as the familiar restrictive feeling comes back up my throat. I’m on my knees when he walks in and his hands are threading through my hair as gently as possible.

“Let it all out.” He tries to be comforting, finding that his hands are big enough to hold my hair and rub my back at the same time. I don’t find it aggravating, in fact I think it’s kind of sweet that he cares so much, that he doesn’t completely ignore me because it’s gross. But I can’t lie and say I didn’t roll my eyes a little bit when he says it, because it feels just a little condescending and my mouth tastes bitter.

“Oh my god, please stop talking.” My head is back in the toilet, gagging up a mix of medication, ocean water, alcohol and old water from Harry’s water bottle. Harry’s laughing and I can’t help but too, but it comes out more as a dry cough followed by a string of spit into the water which only makes us laugh harder.

After some time, I think I’ve gotten it all out. Instead of being hunched over the toilet, by back is pressed against the cool tiles of the bathroom floor and my arms are resting over Harry’s chest. The sound of our breathing fills the quiet room and we find that it’s very comfortable just sitting like this, in the company of the other.

“Harry,” He hums, turning his head to look at me even though mine is still facing the ceiling, “Did you turn off the camera?” He sits up quickly, huffing curses under his breath and looking to see how long he had been recording. My laughter echos throughout the room when he sees he’s captured the entire thing, shutting it off swiftly and storing it in an empty compartment in his bag.

He calls it stupid, a waste of space and useless, but I know he doesn’t think that. His sister gave it to me when she got her first phone and I’ve used it to record special trips ever since. He texted me to remind me to bring it, and I yell out to call him a dirty liar while he pouts around.

“Come on, we’ve been in bed all day. The weekend’s not passing any slower and we aren’t getting any younger!” He shook me vigorously, smiling that same toothy grin I remember from our childhood, and the same one that promised before he ever stepped foot onto a stage that he would never forget me, and would always be near. We’ve both changed, but it’s nice to know that some promises are forever.

I simply shrug Harry off, finding peace in the cocoon of our bedding that he had made for us in the middle of the night. Still, he’s persistent against my body, begging and pleading for me to just go with him and he hasn’t even said where he wants to go.

“We’ve only got two good nights left before we leave and this is one of them. Get up!” I don’t choose to listen to his whining, mumbling something about the cheep ass wine we found at the drug store around the block and the pounding in my head thats only gotten worse on this three day bender.

“You can’t still be hung over, get up. Come on, I planned something fun for us!” Again, he tries to take me with him. He knows that once I’m up, I’m up. I’ll easily follow him anywhere with anyone because with him, it’s just that simple.

“Harry.” I warn him, my voice airy and soft the first time and my eyes avoiding his playful expression. Still, he seems to find it all too entertaining that I’m so stubborn yet so easy to crack. He keeps pushing, literally, and begging and whining and talking.

“Harry, stop!” Sitting up from the blankets, for a second he thinks he’s won. I’m above the covers and facing him just like he wants but then he see’s the bags under my eyes and the haze hanging over my face. While I am up, no longer comforted by the security of the blankets, I am not able to leave the mattress. So, he backs away, scoffing under his breath and looking to the ceiling like I’ve just kicked him.

I can hear the faint sound of tapping by his side, the same sound I know to be of his thumb digging into his cuticles and picking away any fresh skin until he bleeds. Usually, I would at least tell him to stop, even if we were angry at each other, but today I find that I don’t really have the energy to do anything except slump into myself and hold my head in my hands.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He’s turned himself around so he’s looking out of the glass doors that lead to the small balcony. For a second it even looks like he’s tempted to slide them open and just be with the breeze, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, Harry has spun himself back around with the saddest look on his face and blotches of red produced from stress lining his neck.

“Harry, please. Maybe later, I just…I just don’t feel up to it right now.” I’m praying that he understands, he surely should. He better than anyone else would know the feeling of creeping aches in our joints and the heaviness of our mind.

“You’re never up to it.” Is what he says instead. He was never going to coddle me, that I understood. While he had in the past, we were never the over the top touchy people who survived solely off of the brush of a stray arm at a party or a compliment of a stranger at midnight.

His words have always been kind, but not this time it seems. Because they wobble a little when he says it and he doesn’t look very confident in how he’s standing. But I wouldn’t know because I can’t even look him in the eyes right now.

“We’ve spent the last couple days getting sick out of our minds in the bathroom, it smell’s like a bar in here and yet, you can’t even find it in you to push through for a few hours for your best friend?” He doesn’t really mean it that way, he’ll come back later tonight begging me to understand what he really meant, but just because Harry has always been kind does not mean he has always been smart. Sometimes, even the person who preaches kindness to everyone can be a foul man to the people he loves.

“You know that’s not what’s happening, stop being a jerk!” I scream but I don’t mean to. In fact, I don’t even know why I’m yelling because I’m not angry, or irritated or anything. It’s like I’ve been dragged through some slick mud, stuck in it with nothing to grab onto to pull me out, not even Harry. It keeps me here, in this bed, it’s paralysis through the brain. I can move but every cell in my body advises me to stay put.

Breathing heavily, Harry simply sticks his hands into his pockets, shoving his knuckles down so harshly that I can see the waist tug down just a little further on his stomach. His nose is flaring up and his lips moving with his tongue that swipes over his teeth.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, I really don’t, but you need to fix it.” It’s low coming from his mouth, almost like he wants me to hear it, but he doesn’t want to say it. My throat has gone dry now, eyes looking at his forehead rather than his eyes because now I can’t even stand the sight of him anymore. I’m so much more than tired and he doesn’t get it, my best friend doesn’t get it.

The door closes, the handle rattling with the force he shuts it with, and yet even though we’ve just blown up at each other all I can worry about is if he’d hung the do not disturb sign on the door or not. My best friend, my life has just walked out on me, blind with rage and all I can worry about is if someone will come knocking or not?

I’ve always known there was something wrong with me, the sunny Saturday’s not hitting quite the same and the good things always draining my body of the little life I had left to give. The other kids were never that way, going from party to party in high school and laughing like they had no tomorrow to worry about.

Theres something royally fucked up about me and I don’t know how to help it. I know that theres nothing wrong with what I have, but I can’t help but feel ashamed when I find the most interest in rotting away in some lumpy bed when the whole world is just at my fingertips and I can explore it all with a hell of a good man and best friend by my side.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my self pity, and for a second I almost let myself believe that it could be Harry coming back. But the voice of an older woman knocking to see if anyone will answer and tell her to go away changes the image of Harry on the other side of the door into a woman hunched over with a cleaning cart and reality sets in.

“Sorry, I’m in here!” I call out, and when she doesn’t answer, I let myself become pulled from the bed, sitting up to answer it if I have to. The wheels of the cart move on to the rest of the hallway, a faint knock followed by the jingle of room keys tell me that she’s left, and so has Harry.

A trip I planned for him, one that I worked so hard to make possible just in case I were to never be put in a position where I could ever again, ruined because of myself. A selfish monster is crawling under my skin, over my bones and it just doesn’t feel right, why can’t I feel alright?

Hot tears are pouring down my cheeks, falling into my lap as I now sit in nothing more than a damp swimsuit and Harry’s old grey shirt I stole from him back in high school. It still smells like him, even after I’ve washed it over and over. I try not to because once it’s gone, and I fear that all leftover from our youth will become washed away and the cloudy haze of simplicity that comes with it.

“Oh, god!” The words heave out of me in a deep breath, cracking with each syllable. I try to rub my hands up and down against my thighs, but my hands are shaking and I can’t see all that well through my teary vision, I find myself clawing at the fat of my thighs, pressing deeper and deeper until the ache becomes so intense that my fingers stutter and break free.

I don’t think I could speak if I tried. It’s hard to scream when it’s hard to breathe, and my lungs are giving out right in front of me while I wail like a tall child, rocking slightly with each deep breath and the tremble of my joints.

Its dark, orange hues sinking into pitch black lit up by splintered streetlights and yellowed overhead lights shining through windows. The moon casts a streak of light through the glass doors, the same that lead out onto the balcony, and I can see the crescent shapes of my nails tattooed into my skin and red with blood.

Harry’s out getting drunk, probably bent over a pool table or people watching at the outdoor bar on the other side of the resort, and I imagine his velvet laugh hanging in the air and the gentle sound of his hushed dirty jokes whispered in my ears.

I hope he knows that I do love him, I only ever want him around forever, and if I could fix myself in every way to be more fit for you, I would. I just hope that someday he’ll forget all about this, and I could act happy.

“Are you still mad at me?” My arms are tucked over the sheets, hands clasped together and eyes glued to the ceiling, Harry does nothing more than breathe heavily out through his nose beside me in the same position I lay in.

“Harry?” I call again, the shuffle of my head rubbing against the pillow case filling the silence in the room.

It’s nearly the same time as the night before, our last day together spent avoiding speaking to each other, but our longing gazes speak for us, and we both recognize that we miss the company of the other.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to waste any of our time together, I just wasn’t feeling right.” I try to reason, and I don’t think it works until I see his head falling to the side to look at me, his hands unclasping so he can reach up and brush the flyaways out of my face.

“It’s okay.” He tells me with his palm pressed to my cheek, slowly moving to cradle my jawline with his pinky.

He wears a sad smile, one that tells me he’s still bothered. But, unfortunately for him, I’m a sick woman, not a nasty one.

“No, it’s not okay, it’s not and I’m sorry.” Shaking his shoulder with my hand, I find it in my sleep filled bones to pull the sheets off of both of us, slipping over his body to stand by the side of his bed where I start shaking him again.

“It’s not okay so let me make it up to you.” My hands find their way under his arms, trying my best to pull him from the mattress that has been dented with the shapes of our bodies.

He whines, closing his eyes and fighting a smile but doesn’t try to fight against my pull. He falls into my body with a grunt, eyelashes fluttering against my collar bone and the feeling of his lips curling into a secret smile against my shoulder, we both laugh silently, and my hands briefly rub at his back.

“Alright, come on idiot, get up because I’m taking you out. My treat!” Shoving him back into the bed, he bounces against the worn springs and settles back into place, hands folded over his stomach and a toothy grin on his face. I can see how his eyes shift, the same broken eyes from the night before mended into the same green ones I always knew, the same ones that were now subtly shifting around to observe my face, admiring my smile the way I do to him.

“We don’t have all night, come on!” And he’s up, feet padding behind mine with that same lopsided smile he’s worn since we started talking again and the same energy I’ve always known him to have.

We’re out the door within minutes, barely even put together when the door slams shut, just like before only now we’re both rushing down the steps, tripped over the gaps in the stairs and the weeds that grow within the cement.

“Come on, catch up!” I can’t stop laughing, no alcohol in my system and yet I’ve got the same rose colored haze covering my eyes and the same smile that bears all my teeth.

Harry is panting behind me, joking that without his trainer and daily routines he’s lost his touch, his feet slapping the ground with a loud thud every time they connect, breath heavy in my ears.

The moon hangs high in the sky, accompanied by millions of sparkling stars surrounding its welcoming glow and twinkling fairy lights hung from every nearby post to the next. You can yell and scream all you want and the music from the outdoor bar and the hum of the air conditioning will tune you out. It’s like free falling without the bone crush sprinting and weaving through these paths, it feels like living.

In the distance, from across the street just beyond the pools you can hear the music grow louder, my ears picking up on the strumming of a baseline and the tune of an old song that we used to sing not so long ago.

Freddie Mercury’s voice mixed with Bowie is something I believe to be heaven on earth, a mix that can never be over appreciated or overplayed. We’ve caught the beginning of the famous song and we both know it, and without a second glance, Harry smiles at me because he knows it better than anyone that I’ve set my heart on something tonight.

My palms are sweating in the humid summer night heat, but I grab onto Harry’s hand anyways and pull him along with me, only quickly checking both ways for cars as we sprint across the significantly newer cement and laugh. A car’s headlights appear just over the hill and a small blue car speeds past us once we’ve made it up the curb, but I don’t stop.

No, instead I’m turning my whole body to face him, only focused on the curly headed boy who’s held my heart in the palms of his hands since we were only kids running on the blacktop and through the muddy grass at school. I only hear his muffled laughter under the booming music and the crowd that takes up the makeshift dance floor at the bar.

His feet are planted on the floor and I can feel my hands slipping away from his, Freddie sings about the people on the streets, the snaps of the bridge quiet enough for my voice to begin reaching his ears.

“I don’t dance!” He shrugs his shoulders, letting his hands fall to his sides stubbornly as I back away towards the crowd even more, but I stick close by.

“Harry.” Tilting my head, I look at him knowingly. He does dance, within the tiling of my kitchen or the walls of his bedroom, on stage for his fans or at parties after a few too many shots. Harry does dance, he just wont.

“I never, ever dance.” He’s trying to convince me, trying to hide his smile that so desperately wants to break free.

Holding my arms out and moving my body back slowly, I smile at him fondly, “I’m dancing with or without you.” I’m getting farther away now, and he’s stuck in place, watching with his best poker face.

“I told you I love to dance!” Spinning around, I place my hands on my hips and do my worst dancing possible just to see the blush on his face rise into a peachy pink.

“Y/n/n, stop. This is embarrassing.” He tries to keep lying, but his words fade into a weak laugh at the end and his teeth show for just a second too long.

“This is embarrassing?” He knows I don’t believe him, I never did but still I find myself moving closer to the crowd, stepping to the beat and and swaying my hips and shoulders.

When I turn around, he’s looking at me in a way I’ve never seen before, like I’ve hung the sun and the stars all for him and spread them across the sky.

“What? Come on.” My arm slings around his shoulder, pulling him in and trapping him on the dance floor. He finds it funny, all this fight, but he’s breaking down and we both know it.

“Ready?” I tease, holding his biceps in my hands and trying to move in the same way I just was. He tries to tell me to stop, by I don’t pay him any attention as I tell him, “Let’s dance.”

“Stop!” He shoves me back playfully, but his smile is showing all his teeth and his laugh is filled with pure happiness, he doesn’t even try to fight when I pull him back onto the floor, dancing with him with no real rhythm or rules.

I feel his heartbeat against mine, our bodies pressed together tightly as he spins me in his arms like real friends do.

‘Cause loves such an old-fashioned word and love dares you to care for the people(people on the streets) on the edge of the night and love(people on the streets) dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

He spins me around and holds my head in his hands, I can smell the toothpaste on his lips and feel the scars from his guitar on his pointer and his thumb.

This is our last dance, this is our last dance

“Have I ever told you I love you?” I scream at him despite how close we are, and the smile he shows me is infectious.

“A few times, yeah!” He jokes, but the music is too good and the night is growing tired. I don’t want this night to end, I want to feel this way forever, I don’t want to have to always chase it.

“Well I mean it, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone else!” He spins for the thousandth time of the night, lifting my head above his just to hear my squeals.

“Consider myself lucky then, because I love you like I’ve loved no one else!” Harry says it, but he says it in a way that feels different than my confession. I hope I can hold onto him forever.

This is ourselves

The camera clicks to a stop, a collection of some stray videos from early high school and a storyline reflecting back on our final trip. The camera still has dents from her careless behavior when storing it away, and the quality of each video feels so much worse without her here to watch and laugh with me. It feels older, I am older.

A year since I’d last seen her, a year since we took separate planes home and promised to visit each other soon. A year since I got that damn letter in the mail taped to a small gift shaped in a crinkly mess from the blue wrapping paper just days after the news broke like some sort of sick joke.

I hate that I can only hear her voice through the salvaged videos, the wind covering the breathiness of her laugh and the calming sound of her voice. I hate the way I’ll never see the way her eyes sparkle under the night skies again, and most importantly I hate how I never saw it coming, even when she was showing me all of the signs.

I don’t think I’ll ever open that letter, not for a while at least, when the pain has settled. But how can it when I’ve just lost my whole life? The only person to ever make me feel alive in a way nobody else ever could, not even the screaming crowds of thousands of fans each night.

But I’ll reread the front of it like a prayer, her messy handwriting something I’ll miss forever, the little notes she’d pass or the drawings in sharpie that left stains behind on my coffee table.

The front of the letter, though crinkled from shipping and losing its stickiness reads, “To Harry, the love of my life, I love you always and forever. Love, y/n.” And just beside her name she leaves a little heart, something to try and lessen the blow of her absence.

And the glasses she sent along with the letter, the last thing she ever gave me. They still have a lingering smell of Italy, but more than that, I convince myself I can still smell her perfume on the plastic. Even when doing one last nice thing to me though, she leaves a little piece of paper taped to the lenses, “They were getting a little gross…try these.” And with snot running down my chin and red blotches of skin from my tears, I find myself laughing at her stupid little insult.

I know I’ll love these forever, and I’ll laugh whenever I put them on, because in my head I can see her taking them off of my head and trying them on, and we’ll both agree that they look better on her.

I hope they never loose her smell, and I hope that I never forget the sound of her voice or the colors in her eyes. She’ll never know about the plans I hoped we’d make, and she’ll never be back to try and embarrass me and dance with me in public.

But sometimes when I’m lucky I get to relive those moments in my sleep, and it’s almost like I can still feel her touch and see her smile even if it’s across some dark bar that never ends.

So I’ll live through her in pieces, telling all those willing to listen her story and how much I’ll always love her. And I’ll hang onto our last dance forever.

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