#best friend!harry

[freedomfireflies]

Remember Me*

Summary: The one where you and your best friend, Harry, reminisce over the first time he ever ate you out.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, brief daddy kink, mention of knife kink + blood kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pre-consented somnophilia, not suitable for Ramadan!

“There you go, good girl. Just like that. Cum for me, Bee. Right now.”

You squirm, fingers curling into the silky sheets below as you suck in a quiet breath.

You can feel his lips on your neck. Your chest. Your inner thighs. Soft, gentle, devious. He’s everywhere. Purring in your ear, holding your hips in his hands. Keeping you just where he wants you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to play with.

You’ve never been so close. So satisfied, so pleasured. So ready to let go.

And then…you wake up.

Your lashes flutter as you slowly come to. The bedroom is dark. Still. You can hear the fan in the corner of the room and Harry’s soft inhales from somewhere beside you. Your heart is thumping hard and heavy against your ribcage while your dream slowly dissipates into reality. Disappearing into the back of your mind as you remind yourself where you really are.

And then you realize that Harry’s not beside you but below you. His breathing louder and heavier than it was before.

You look down.

And there he is, large body settled between your spread thighs as he holds you open and stares lovingly at the mess you’ve made.

And suddenly, your dream doesn’t feel so distant as you blink the sleep from your eyes and whisper, “Har?”

He glances up, pretty green eyes somehow bright even in the dark. He smiles and his lips glisten. “Hi, baby. Were you having a nice dream?”

You take in a sharp inhale and nod once. “Ye—yeah.”

“Good.” He dips down to kiss your hip. “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”

“No…no, I just…I…I thought I was…”

“I know,” he murmurs and kisses the other side. “I know, Bee. And you need me to fix it, don’t you?”

You blink.

“Kept whimpering for me,” he says. His palms dance down the side of your body. Squeezing lightly as though to reassure you. “Begging me to make you cum…to touch you…taste you. Said you needed my tongue.”

Your chest feels heavy as you watch him ghost his mouth up your stomach.

“And I wanted to help,” he tells you. “Wanted to make it better for you.”

He stops, but only to look up and find you again.

“Is that all right, sweet girl?” he whispers.

You nod quickly. After all, the two of you made an agreement months ago that waking each other up with sex was more than all right. You don’t do it too terribly often, but the times when you do…

You almost start to pant.

“Good,” he says, grinning once more as he runs his thumb along your aching cunt. “But I want you to do something for me, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

He moves his mouth to your inner thigh. “Want you…” He travels up your skin toward your pussy. “To tell me…” He brushes his lips over your clit. “What you were dreaming about.”

You feel yourself start to squirm, the warmth of his breath over your cunt enough to send shivers along your spine. “I…I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah? Better have been,” he teases with a smirk. “What was I doing, hm?”

You watch him poke out his tongue and tease it near your hole. “You…you were doing this.”

He hums. “Was I?”

You nod. “Just…just like you did the first time.”

His eyes flick back to yours. “The first time, hm? When I asked to taste your pretty pussy?”

Another nod.

“Mm.” He shifts a bit on the bed and pushes your legs further apart. “Do you think about that first time a lot, Bee?”

You feel your heart skip. “Yes…”

“Think about how nice you were to let me practice on you?”

“…yes.”

“Cause you were,” he says softly between kisses to your cunt. Not enough to satisfy you, but more than enough to taunt you. “So nice and so sweet for me. Knew I’d never wanna taste anybody else but you for the rest of my life.”

You smile. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he argues. He sucks your clit into his mouth. “Come on, lovie, you had to know I didn’t really want her. Only ever wanted you.”

Your fingers lace through his hair, and he hums. “You knew even back then?”

“Of course.” He rests his cheek on your thigh, gazing at your pussy almost as though in a trance. “Should have known I’d get addicted. I already was, even if I didn’t realize it yet.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He starts to pull you open, just to watch the way you clench around nothing. “I’d been addicted to you for years. Just didn’t know why.”

“And eating me out helped with that?”

He chuckles. “Kind of. I really did think I was doing it for Tina, but…the second I saw you, all spread out and dripping…I couldn’t have picked her out of a fucking lineup.”

You squeeze his scalp. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it.” He studies your expression closely. “Bee, I’m so goddamn in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now. Why do you think I kept canceling on her? Why do you think I kept begging you to teach me more things?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Cause you were horny?”

“No,” he exhales and then kisses your pussy again, groaning into you as though he’s a man starved. “No, I was fucking obsessed. And I still am.”

You whimper.

“So, I want you to tell me everything I did in your dream,” he says, his touch growing a bit greedier now as he slips his middle finger inside. “Every little thing you wanted me to do.”

You arch from the bed and try to stay still. You’re not sure how long he’s been teasing you, but it feels far longer than your dream. And you’re already shaking with anticipation as you clutch his curls and say, “You…you were touching me.”

He grins. “How, lovie?”

You reach for his hand and pull it up toward your chest. “Like this,” you pant, and he groans so lewdly, you nearly cum right then.

He squeezes your tit in his palm, kneading it between those long, nimble fingers before he pinches your nipple tight. Eliciting another noise from your throat. And you’ve never been so glad you went to bed without pajamas.

“Like this?” he asks.

You nod before you’re leading him up toward your throat. “And like this…”

You make him squeeze the sides of your neck until your eyes have nearly rolled back. He holds you gently, but with just enough pressure to make your head pound in the absolute best way.

“Yeah?” He crawls a bit higher up your body in order to get a better grip. “I remember the first time you made me choke you. Such an insatiable little thing, weren’t you?”

“Still am,” you quip, sticking out your tongue.

His smile is sadistic as he spits directly onto your tongue and squeezes your jaw shut. “Swallow.”

You do. And the taste of him—of you—is magic. Enough to have you grinding yourself against his bent leg that’s snuggled between your thighs. And he notices, but he does nothing to help you.

“What else?” he asks between desperate kisses. “Huh? What else did my dirty girl want?”

“Your cock,” you whisper. “Wanted your cock so bad, Har. Wanted you to fuck me like you did that first time. Wanted to ride you…see your handsome face when you came.”

“Yeah? Wanted to cut me up all pretty like you did with that knife?”

You pout. “I didn’t cut you up. I just wanted to see it on your cheek.”

He laughs against your shoulder, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Still can’t believe you have a knife kink. And a blood kink.”

“I still can’t believe you do, too.”

“Can’t help it. You just look so pretty in red,” he says easily. “Always have. Skin all sensitive and swollen…lips just begging to be bit…blood that looks so beautiful smeared across your chest—”

You grab onto his cheeks and bring his mouth back to yours. Kissing him so hard, he can’t speak. The image in your head is lewd and delicious and you feel his cock twitch against your hip as his body melts into yours.

“Bee,” he warns after a moment. “Bee, this isn’t about me. This is about you, come on—”

“I will. After you cum first,” you insist, reaching down between you to squeeze his tip. “My dream wasn’t just about me.”

His exhale is shaky as he closes his eyes. “Thought we were recreating the first time I ate you out?”

“Why can’t we do both?” you ask, nipping at his earlobe. “You really think I wasn’t imagining what your cock felt like as I watched you? Even back then?”

You feel his wicked grin against your cheek. “Were you?”

“How could I not? You weren’t the only one with a crush.”

He leans back. “You did not have a crush on me.”

“Yes, I did. How do you know?”

“Because you were still hung up on Eric,” he retorts as he moves down your body, returning to his previous position while you watch him go with a frown. “And I was just a convenient distraction.”

“No,” you snort, grasping onto his chin to recapture his attention. He looks at you. “Harry, you were not a distraction. Eric was the distraction. I made myself get over you by getting under him.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth, but it can’t hide his smirk. “Really?”

“Duh. You asking me to teach you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You gaze at him gently and cup his jaw. “Please don’t forget that.”

The tension between you is palpable but loving, and you giggle when he sucks your thumb into his mouth with a wink.

“Then can you let me recreate the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he mumbles around your finger. “Because it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I still haven’t gotten a proper taste.”

You swipe your wet digit over his lips and grin. “Then you better get to it.”

So, he does. After all, Harry is nothing if not obedient and you can’t help but feel a touch proud as he kisses his way down your body until those greedy kisses find your cunt.

He knows exactly what you like. Knows how to hold you, tease you, taste you. He flicks you with the tip of his tongue and pulls you open with his fingers. He groans every time you gasp and swallows like he’s never had a drink in his life.

And then…he blows on you. Lets his warm exhale dance across your drenched pussy until you nearly squirm away altogether. You feel as though you’re being edged. Like he’s denying you the only thing you need and you whine helplessly as you plead with him.

He merely shushes you. “You know better, Bee. Come on.”

You shake your head violently. “I can’t…can’t, Har, please—”

He spanks you. A sharp smack of his palm down your clit. “You fucking rush me and I won’t let you cum at all. Is that what you want, sweet girl?”

“…no, Daddy.”

“No, I didn’t think so. So what are you gonna do?”

“…whatever you tell me.”

He hums, wildly pleased. “Good fucking girl.”

It’s masterful the way he sucks and nips and thrusts. A combination of his fingers and his tongue that bring you closer with every curl. Because after all this time, he knows your body. He’s had a year to learn you and love you. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. He knows exactly how to treat you and my god does he treat you right.

“H,” you gasp as you reach for his hair. Clutching onto those soft curls for dear life as your legs squeeze the side of his head. “Shit, Har…I’m…”

“You looked just like this when I first tasted you,” he mumbles against your cunt. “You had this cute little fucked-out expression on your face…kept biting your lip and wrinkling your nose. Like you were scared to enjoy it.”

“Wasn’t…wasn’t scared,” you huff, but you know he’s right. “I was just trying to help you learn.”

“Mhm.” He swipes his tongue up the length of you, from hole to hole. “Loved getting to see you so vulnerable for me. And you were so eager to let me. Practically yanked me into you.”

“I did not. Not until we got that collar and leash, anyway.”

His lips pull back with a Cheshire-like grin. Another fond memory. “Speaking of, we should dig that out again. Don’t think we’ve gotten enough use out of it.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” He slaps your clit once more before spitting on it and spreading it around. “Maybe I should make you watch your dirty little videos, too.”

Your chest begins to heave. “Maybe…you should.”

“Maybe I will.” And just like that, he slips three fingers into your quivering cunt.

But the moment he reaches his knuckles and flicks his tongue, it’s over. You gasp, whine, shake. Tremble in his hands and against his tongue before you’re collapsing onto the mattress with the sounds of his grunted praise in your ear.

“Fucking shit, Bee,” you vaguely hear as he pushes your folded legs closer to your chest. “God, I fucking love it when you do that.”

And somehow, through the orgasmic haze, you realize you’ve squirted. Something else you don’t tend to do that often. But when you do…

“Shit,” he says again before burying himself back in the mess. Almost as though he means to breathe it into his lungs. He kisses it, licks it, indulges in it. Takes every last drop for himself, despite the way you whimper. “M’sorry, lovie. Just can’t help it. S’my favorite.”

And you can feel a second one already barreling toward you. You're far more sensitive now and it almost hurts to have him continue. But you know he wants a second one. Know he needs a second orgasm out of you and you're powerless to deny him.

He brushes his touch through your folds and pulls you apart just to look at you. Watching your body spasm with pleasure as your hole flutters around the emptiness where his fingers used to be.

"Harry," you plead, a pitiful mewl.

He dives in. Licking and licking and licking like you're a popsicle on a hot day. He teases your opening with his tongue before smoothing it back up. Again and again, he tastes you. Until your cheeks are stained with tears and your body unravels once more.

When you cum, time stops. You bite on your lip so hard, you draw blood. The metallic taste filling your mouth as you push him back and wiggle away from his ministrations. Nearly sobbing from the painfully beautiful overstimulation.

He laughs lightly but does allow you to rest. Pulling himself up until he can place his head on your chest and settle in your arms. “Shh. You're all right, sweet girl. I've got you. It's okay."

You only whimper.

He peppers kisses across your face until your hiccups subside. His touch is much gentler now and he spends the next few minutes speaking softly and bringing you back down to earth. Doing everything he can to remind you that he's got you. Always.

"I'm proud of you," he finally says. "So fucking proud of you, Bee. Do you know that?"

You sniffle. "Really?"

“Mhm. And not just for squirting. For everything. All the time. The way you carry yourself. The way you love your friends. The way you love me.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck. “I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Well, I’m so lucky to love you.”

A tender beat passes. Then, he whispers, “Do you think you’d ever wanna get married?”

Just like that, your heart stops. You hope he can’t hear it. “Um…I don’t know. Would you?”

“Probably. Only to you, though.”

“Oh…that’s good.”

He glances up. “I’m not proposing. I mean, not right now. Not like this, I just...I don’t know. I thought I’d see if you…even wanted to marry someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

He shrugs and looks back down. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d be very good husband material.”

Your expression drops. “Harry,” you whisper, dipping down to press your lips to his temple. “You’d be the best husband in the world. No matter the material you’re made of.”

He chuckles again. “Think if we did get married, my parents would have a heart attack.”

“What? Why?”

“They fucking love you. They’ve been trying to get me to ask you out since we were kids.”

“Shut up, no they have not.”

“M’serious. When I told them we started dating, I swear to God my mom sent me like twenty links to engagement rings ‘just in case.’”

You laugh now, too. “She’s so cute. I’m gonna have the greatest in-laws.”

And for some reason, this makes him smile bigger than he has all evening.

The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. Snug in each other’s embrace, his heart against yours. And you realize that this is where you were always meant to be. Right here, in this bed with him. From the moment the two of you met all those years ago, he was your Harry. And everything after has merely led you to this moment with him.

You often think about that fateful afternoon when he waltzed into your apartment and asked if he could eat you out. You wonder what would have happened if you’d said no. Could you have been okay with seeing him and Tina? Would you have patched things up with Eric, just to distract yourself?

But then you realize, you don’t want to imagine a world where you rejected him. It was a strange twist of destiny that you brought you and Harry together that day. In a position you never thought you'd be in. But if he hadn't, you'd have never known a happiness like this. A peace like this.

You’d never know him. The real him.

You don’t care if he proposes or not. You don’t care what your future looks like. As long as it’s with him, you’ll feel fulfilled. Happy and content in a way you never thought possible.

And the best part is…you know he feels the same.

By the time you start to feel tired again, it’s nearly morning. Soft streams of sunlight are already dancing through your bedroom window, illuminating the beautiful curve of his back. Glistening through his disheveled curls like a heavenly halo.

It nearly takes your breath away.

You count his freckles and moles like stars in the sky. Run your fingers along his shoulders and spine until he snuggles even closer. You've never felt so lucky to behold someone so beautiful.

However, just before your eyes can flutter shut and allow you to finally find a bit more sleep, your phone buzzes.

Confused, you both turn toward the nightstand where the vibration is coming from before you reach for the device plugged into the wall.

“Who is it?” Harry asks sleepily as he nuzzles his way back into your neck.

You read over the message.

And your stomach drops.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Um…”

"What?"

You say nothing. Can't. You reread the text three more times in an effort to stall and create some sort of explanation.

But your silence piques his curiosity, and he eventually glances up. "Bee? What's wrong?"

Your pulse starts to race. Your palms start to sweat. And even though you know you have nothing to be afraid of, you take in a stuttered breath.  

“It’s…Eric,” you say slowly.

And just like that…the tender moment is over. 

Harry sits up, expression hard and unforgiving as he waits for the rest.

And you’re almost afraid to give it to him.

“…he wants to meet.”

I cannot believe it's been one year since the story that changed my life 🥹 And I can't thank you guys enough for what you've done for me!!! It was such a silly little story that I was sure wouldn't do very well, but introduced me to so many amazing people and gave me such a new found love for writing!!!

Thank you for being here and supporting me and Harry and Bee for a whole year now!!! I'm actually going to sob 🥹💞💞 ILY GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @vyctorya @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @wolfmoonmusic @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @itsmytimetoodream @floral-recs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #soft dom!harry #nsfr #teach me #harry and bee #switch!harry #best friend!harry #best friends to lovers #best friendrry #bffrry

[wonderlandrry]

hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you’ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #writing #writers #harry styles short story #harry styles story #harry styles series #lhh supremacy #friends #slow burn #smut #softrry #first time writing #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #baseballrry #lhh!harry #best friend!harry #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb

[eveningepiphany]

innocent | H.S oneshot

my masterlist

summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.

requested by @shqtteredcrystql1

a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3

———

You shake your head at yourself.

You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?

You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.

You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.

The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.

It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.

Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.

“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.

You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.

“Why?” You said, slightly amused.

“Because.” He stated.

So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.

Bringing you seated in his lap.

“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.

Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.

This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.

And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.

And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.

Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.

Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.

His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.

“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.

Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.

Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.

Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.

“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.

“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.

The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.

And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.

“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.

“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.

Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.

His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.

Your heart is stuttering.

You’re so— confused?

He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?

Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.

The heat radiating from you.

You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.

Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.

The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.

Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.

There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.

Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.

After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.

His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.

A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.

Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.

“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.

“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”

He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”

“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.

He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.

You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.

“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.

He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.

And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.

“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.

His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.

“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”

“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”

“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”

You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.

“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.

All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.

His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.

“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”

He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.

“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.

“Oh—“

You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.

“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.

“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.

“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.

“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”

“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.

“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”

You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.

He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.

“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.

“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.

He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.

“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.

You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.

“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”

“I won’t, please keep going…”

You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.

“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.

“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.

“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”

He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.

He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.

“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.

He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.

Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.

“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.

His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.

You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.

“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass

“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.

“Ever, huh?”

You nod, “Ever.”

He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.

The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.

That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.

He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.

“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.

“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.

The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.

He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.

“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.

“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.

“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.

“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”

Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.

Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.

“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.

“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”

Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.

The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.

“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.

He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.

You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.

“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.

You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.

He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.

Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.

“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.

“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.

You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.

You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.

You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.

Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Taste like a dream, my darling.”

He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.

“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.

You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.

You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.

Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.

“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.

“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”

You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”

“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.

“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.

“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.

“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”

You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”

He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”

“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.

“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”

“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”

You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.

He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.

Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.

His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.

Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.

Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.

You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.

He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.

“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.

“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.

“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.

Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.

“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.

“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.

You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.

“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.

You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.

“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.

“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.

“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.

Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.

“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.

“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.

He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.

“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.

You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.

Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.

Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.

Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.

You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.

“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.

“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.

You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”

Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.

“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”

“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

———

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #fanfiction #best friend!harry #fwb harry #he’s so fine #fbh #frat boy harry #harry styles smutshot #smut #thigh riding

[cupidsdolll]

For Whatever It’s Worth I Love You (Ain’t That the Worst Thing You Ever Heard?)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!Harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; best friends forever or whatever the saying is. how bittersweet it is to love someone that you can’t have how you want.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 8.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; angst, drinking, one mention of a sexual encounter, foul language, use of Y/N. date with a college guy who only wants sex and is obvious about it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did link a playlist in another post, but here it is. this fic is something personal to me so not everyone will relate but if you’ve ever been in love with your best friend, this is for you. you don’t have to listen to the playlist while reading but a few deserve a honorable mention that i feel accurately describe the feelings throughout.

yours - conan gray, it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift, falling for u - peachy! ft mxmtoon, heather - conan gray, people watching - conan gray.

— — —

Y/N and Harry were friends. They were the absolute best of friends if anyone asked. They grew up near one another but she tended to shy away from him in their early days. During their elementary years, she observed him from a distance. Him and his seemingly always put together outfits, the way he would snicker in class whenever the teacher mentioned anything remotely funny (it never was to the little girl.) She watched as he sometimes decided he wanted to take notes and would write everything down as fast as he could.

She watched as he grew a small circle of friends and would go around the school playing pranks, placing fake bugs inside lockers or on the teachers desk. She couldn’t help but to be curious of the boy as time went, something about him intrigued her. Years go by and eventually Y/N grew the courage to approach the young boy. She was still hesitant, nervous really, she didn't know what to say to him in any sense. But her legs carried her to him, her mind runs a mile a minute the closer she gets to him. She was bound to make a fool of herself, she just couldn’t stop.

Her feet stopped, she stood right in front of him and he’s yet to notice her, too deep into whatever conversation he’s having with his friend to notice the scared girl. She can’t help her gaze from roaming over his face, the soft cheeks and pretty green eyes, his pink lips and long eyelashes. His hair has gotten quite curly over the years, it’s honestly her favorite feature of his. She wishes she could look at him this close every day, just admire him without any fear or doubt and oh- he’s staring at her. When did he stop talking to his friend? Her eyes drop to his lips and they’re moving.. he’s talking to her, oh god he’s talking to her. This is it, she’s gonna make an utter and absolute fool of herself and he’s never going to talk to her again.

“Uh hello? Did y’need something?” He asks and she just stares blankly. She can’t force her brain to say something, anything please.

“Uh- well.. jeez. You see.. I just,” is all that comes out of her mouth when she finally decides to open it. She can feel heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment warming her and making her want to hide in her room until the end of time.

Harry’s just staring at her, his lips pulled up into an amused smirk of some sort and she can't help the shame that fills her.

“Go on then, I don't have all day.“ He says with amusement laced in his tone and she nearly melts. She couldn’t think he could get any better but his accent is heavenly. It’s smooth and soft and she wishes she could listen to it all day- no she doesn’t. That’s irrational and oh, he’s still looking at her. She needs to say something, she begs her mind to come up with anything at this point.

“You’re pretty.” His face immediately morphs into a look of disbelief as he shakes his head gently.

“Well thanks I guess.” He laughs gently before looking back at her.

“I don’t think pretty is a term meant for me, maybe for you though.” He smiles gently at her and she swears her heart skips three beats. Her skin flushes with heat at the compliment he gives her, and she can’t help but to smile shyly at the curly haired boy.

“Oh, um thank you.” She can’t help but to giggle and he watches her with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name then?” He asks her and she tells him, he compliments her name and says his own.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” They smile at each other and he invites her to sit with him and his friends.

Just like that, a new friendship begins to bloom between the children. They stay by each other’s side through the years, becoming the best of friends in the seventh grade over their shared disgust for dissecting frogs. Their faces screw up and they just keep complaining about how gross it feels and how they hate the sliminess of the skin. It’s hard to imagine that anything could break them apart, they’re too similar. They’re too close, their friendship is far too strong.

— — —

When high school came around, you never got one without the other. The pair were always attached at the hip. Some students thought the two were dating, and Harry always shot them down by saying she’s just a really close friend, they’re just friends, they couldn’t date. Y/N kept her mouth shut, always had to swallow the big lump that formed in her throat whenever the topic came up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny it, or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from admitting her feelings.

She’s not sure when she started catching feelings for Harry exactly. There’s many moments where it could be possible. It could’ve been all those nights they share a bed, they’re close enough and their parents figured nothing bad will happen. If they were to sneak around, they would’ve done it already. Harry will be over at Y/N’s house, either studying or just hanging out with her and they’ll stay up too late and Anne wouldn’t want to come and pick him up so Harry will pick an outfit or steal some of her bigger clothes to wear (she likes to wear oversized clothing when she’s going to sleep, they’re the only clothes that’ll fit him.) The first night was awkward to say the least, she didn’t own a sleeping bag and wanted him to stay with her. They thought of piling some blankets on the floor, but he said it’d be too uncomfortable and would hurt his back. He offered to sleep on the couch but she fussed and said it wouldn’t be a proper sleepover if they weren’t in the same room.

The last offer was said with hesitation, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red and he stared at the floor with a bashful smile.

“We could, maybe if you’re comfortable with it of course, maybe share a bed? We don’t have to. I’m sure your mom could figure something out-” She’s embarrassed at how fast she answers the boy, her skin warmed and shy eyes.

“Yeah! That works.” And just like that, the first initial problem is solved. They lay relatively stiffly in their own sides of the bed, a line of pillows lay in between them acting as a protective barrier, the moonlight filtering through her bedroom window and resting on his face. Casting a soft white hue onto his face, making him look even softer and she can’t help but to keep sneaking glances at her best friend. She doesn’t want to just stare and ogle, she doesn’t want to make this even more awkward for the two of them, so she settles for quick glances. They talk about anything and everything, whatever they learned in class or Harry’s newest favorite song, her current book she’s reading or some gossip one of them overheard.

Time passes, and Y/N can hear his breathing even out. She watches as his chest rises and falls slower signaling the young boy is sleeping. She then turns on her side, slowly and quietly as she pays attention to how much sound she’s making, her gaze landing on the sleeping boy. This should be, this is weird. She shouldn’t be watching him, but she can’t help it. Her eyes roam over his face once more, this time unashamed and more slowly, she wants to memorize every single detail.

She takes in the way his lashes fan his cheeks, she’s always been jealous of how long his eyelashes are. There’s no point in him having them if he doesn’t put them to good use. His eyelids flutter ever so often as he sleeps, his nose and his lips. They’re soft and pink, pillowy as if they’re made from the softest fabric. They’re inviting, but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’re best friends, best friends don’t kiss. They don’t think about cuddling up to them, they don’t do what she does.

Besides it’s normal for a young girl to develop a small crush on her best friend, it happens to everyone. At least that’s what her mom had told her weeks after the bed sharing experience.

— — —

She manages to bottle up those measly feelings for him, she doesn’t want to ruin anything and lose him. Years pass and now the two are in college. Freshman, the jokes of the school, the perfect targets for all of the upperclassmen. Y/N and Harry are still as close as ever, in fact some may say they’ve gotten closer. Harry’s always there to protect her from anyone who tries to pick on her, to lend a hand when she needs a study partner. Y/N’s there to support his dreams, to embrace him after a long day, to listen to him ramble about anything and everything.

The two would usually spend their nights sitting side by side as they help the other study, listening to the newest music on their phones, or just chatting happily with each other. The silence that settled over them sometimes never felt uncomfortable in any way, anything that had to do with Harry was warm. It was happy, filled with care and cozy, constantly feeling like she was enveloped in a warm hug. It was always a comforting moment whenever she’s around him, never awkward in any way or a silence so deafening that makes her feel the need to ramble about anything just to fill the silence.

True enough, college was stressful for the girl. She was known to overwork herself and to stack more and more things onto her imaginary plate. A stack so high that she can’t see over or around, and the weight of it only gets heavier as time passes by. It’s not something she can help though, she’s always been one to want to overachieve her own dreams and goals — even if said goals were highly unattainable and unrealistic — but she always had Harry to help her. She’d tack on classes that she may or may not need to take but she thinks it will be easier to take all the classes just in case.

She makes frequent stops to her teacher’s office to ask for help or to check her work (she’s sure the teachers are sick of her at this point), she’s constantly working on homework and studying for her exams and any tests she may have. It’s safe to say Y/N is as good a student as one can get, and she takes great pride in that! As much time as she spends in her dorm room or in the library with her face glued into text books, she makes sure to set time aside to spend time with her best friend.

She always makes time for him, how could she not when he’s the best part of her day? They’ll meet up in the library for an impromptu study session that usually ends up with their studies forgotten as they talk about whatever comes to mind, him sitting beside her on her bed because she doesn’t like visiting the boy’s dormitories simply because they’re loud and the majority of the time it smells unpleasant, or they’ll stroll around the campus because she loves being in nature. They’ll talk about how their classes are doing (hers are good but overwhelming and loud, his are good as well and he quite enjoys them,) or they’ll talk about potential crushes they have.

It usually always just results in Harry talking about whatever girl he thought was pretty as Y/N nodded along. She never had anything to contribute, she never had any crushes other than him and didn’t feel the need to add anything to the conversation. She was always too jealous, too upset to say anything anyways. She wished it was her. She hoped that she could hold his hand and kiss him whenever she wanted, wanted to play with his hair and cuddle up to him whenever she wanted, wanted to show him off and announce to the world that he was hers.

It was silly, she knew that, which was why she never said anything about her feelings. She couldn’t have him the way she wanted him, they were always just gonna be best friends. She was okay with that, to a point, she was glad to have him in her life just the same. She wouldn’t tell him in fear of losing him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being in his life, to not traveling to his place and hanging out with his family, to not have that one person who meant everything and anything to her.

So she pined, she yearned from a distance while still encouraging him to go on dates. Which is exactly what she’s doing now, sat on his bed with a sad smile as he told her about the current girl he’s interested in.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, always one of the first to raise her hand, she could honestly give you a run for your money. She always looks so pretty, it’s like she never has bad days. She even volunteers on the weekends!” He goes on and on, not realizing the sadness etched on his friend's face, he never noticed it as he rambled about whatever girl he was interested in.

Y/N nodded along, halfway listening as she felt the small ping of hurt begin to bloom in her chest. She wishes she could be all the way happy for Harry. She hates that she gets jealous of all the girls, she just can’t help it. She wishes she had a chance.

“Why don’t you ask her out then, Harry?” Her voice is quiet, scared of it coming out as shaky as she feels.

“I don’t even know if she likes me! I’d hate to ask her out just to get rejected.” He says as he paces, a habit he does when he’s nervous.

“You won’t know if you try, or you could just try talking to her normally and see how it goes from there.” She says and he nods, a big smile on his face (one she wishes he would give to her) as he thinks it over.

She hates these moments if she’s being honest, it always leads to the same outcome. He’ll listen to her advice, he and whatever girl he’s interested in will start talking, they’ll realize they’re compatible and start hanging out more, he’ll bring her around to meet Y/N and then something happens and they break up. She wishes he would stop, at least for a while, and go back to give all of his attention to her.

— — —

They’re now juniors in college and the two are still relatively close friends. Harry will walk her to class if his own is close enough, they eat lunch together when their schedules line up, Harry still takes her to and from school every day (unless something came up with his soccer schedule.) Harry did get into the party scene though, and Y/N thinks this is where it all got complicated. He would go to parties thrown on the campus and when he first started going, Harry would invite Y/N to come with him and the girl always said no.

Partying wasn’t her thing, she didn't find the whole appeal of it all. Going to someone’s dorm room or house, either way the space is entirely too crowded for her, the smell of cigarettes and weed fill the air and songs she’ll never enjoy blasts through whatever speakers they have. The drinks are usually not that bad after she’s had a couple before heading in, but she doesn’t necessarily like to drink anyways.

This was where her and Harry had begun to drift in a way, Harry enjoyed partying. He enjoyed it a lot, the thrill, and once he had gotten a couple of tattoos and grew his hair out he became quite the ladies man.

He would go on about whatever party was going on, to her it seemed there was a party every week. She didn’t understand why these people aren’t studying and making the most of their time, but she realizes that not everyone’s like her. It was very rare for her to accompany Harry to a party, but when she did, she made him promise to stay by her side as much as he could. He agreed, because why wouldn’t he, and tried to get to enjoy herself as much as she could.

Tonight’s a party, she couldn’t believe someone is throwing a party on a Thursday night, she would be cozied up in her bed with her textbooks laid across as she wrote down notes. Harry had convinced her to come with him, and told her it was going to be a small party and said they were having a pick a music DJ so she could even request a couple of her favorite songs! She reluctantly agreed only after Harry gave her the biggest eyes and pout she ever saw. She’s always had a soft spot for him, mainly because he’s never given her a reason not to trust his word and judgment.

So she sighed as she ushered him out, playfully swatting his butt with whatever she was able to grab and shooed him.

“Go on then, get ready! This better be good otherwise I’m shaving your head while you sleep.” She said with a soft smile on her lips, they both knew she would never do so simply because she enjoyed running her hands through his hair. He shook his head and laughed at her fondly as he allowed her to push him to the door. He then left her dorm with a smile on his lips to get ready for said party, one of his main priorities is to make his best friend begin to like parties so they could go together.

A while later, they’re standing against one another, a plastic solo cup in each of their hands in a somewhat crowded house. Harry was right, it was smaller than the normal party, there’s more room to walk around without the fear of bumping into someone and causing a scene. The music vibrates through the floors and fills the space, the air is stuffy and filled with the smell of weed. There’s so much happening all at once, and Y/N’s glad she doesn’t get overstimulated easily otherwise she’d have to leave.

Y/N sips on her drink, taking just the smallest of drinks simply because whatever Harry gave her smells and tastes bad, burning her throat and leaving a bad aftertaste on her tongue with every drink. Her eyes roam over the kitchen but they always manage to land on Harry. He’s so pretty, and just happy. He looks like he belongs here, long sleeve black shirt partially open, a black tie barely even tied around his neck, a pair of black jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. He’s let his hair down instead of his usual man bun, and Y/N swears every girl has their eyes trained on him. She doesn’t blame them honestly, she just wishes she wasn’t there to watch as her best friend checks the girls out as well.

It fuels a bubbling in her stomach, a queasy feeling that won’t go away. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to, being friends with Harry always led to her feeling envious of the girls he talked to. She wishes she could just accept the fact that they’ll never be together how she wants them to be, accept the fact that they’ll always just be best friends. She knows that she could treat him better than they can, she knows all the small things they’ll never know. She knows how to make him happy, how to comfort him, knows all of his secrets and ticks and cues.

She hates the painful feeling that resides in her chest, near her heart every time this happens. The horrible feeling of rejection that makes her hate the friendship they have, hates the fact that they’re so close and it’ll never go any further than that. She sighs and takes a bigger sip of her drink, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste left on her tongue. She hopes he’s too busy checking out every girl at the party to notice her discomfort, but of course he has some kind of senses that ties to her as he wraps an arm softly around her shoulders.

He gives her a soft squeeze as he leans down to whisper in her ear, only to make sure she can hear him over the bass of the song.

“Y’okay?” She can’t help the shiver that runs through her at the feeling of his breath fanning across her neck. She only nods her head meekly, she doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak for her. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away and Y/N can only sigh quietly at the lack of contact and warmth. It’s moments like these where she wishes she’s back at home, cuddles next to Harry as they do whatever. The music’s getting too loud, she’s getting warmer and her drink doesn’t taste good, that can only mean she’s getting overwhelmed.

They stay alongside each other at the party, her wrapped in his arms as time goes on. She wishes he would say they can leave, but she’s unsure how long they’ve been here and she won’t be the reason Harry leaves a party early. Harry mutters in her ear something about getting another drink and she’s sure he asked if she wanted something different. She nods her head softly and turns her head, her eyes staring into his pretty emerald eyes and she smiles at him before asking if there’s something there that doesn’t taste so bitter and he can only laugh at her. She swears his eyes look so pretty in this light, pupils slightly dilated and the green of his eyes shine in the lighting above the two of them. They stare at each other for what seems like ages, not that Y/N’s complaining any, before Harry pulls back and tells her that he’ll be right back with the drinks and she nods in response. She watches him as he makes his way through the crowd, more than likely saying excuse me and apologizing if he even brushes past someone on his journey because he’s just that polite.

— — —

Y/N hates parties. She’s mentioned this to Harry several times and he’s so persistent on changing her mind, only to be left disappointed by her response the next day or through a text. They always smell bad, it’s hot, there’s no personal space and she just absolutely despises watching Harry get hit on by every girl in the vicinity. She gets it, he’s good looking, funny and an absolute gentleman which is not something she can say applies to any other boy on campus. Harry’s a rare gem and she wishes she could keep him for herself, but alas they’re just friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She hates when they go to parties and he leaves her, usually letting her know but sometimes he’s dragged away and never comes back until he’s drunk. Another reason she hates parties is how he acts when he’s drunk. She turns into a babysitter, making sure he’s careful not to throw up on himself, bump into some guy who had too much to drink and wants a fight, and has to drive them home when she doesn’t even like driving. Not to mention, she hates how affectionate he becomes. He’s always cuddling up to her, holding her hand and calling her all sorts of sweet pet names.

She thinks that’s the worst part, because not only does it fill her heart and make it swell, but it also causes her to be the target of all of the nasty glares from the girls at the party. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, he’s managed to bring her to yet another party even though she all but begged and pleaded not to come along. It was bigger, louder, and plain annoying. She just wanted to stay in bed, cozied up underneath her softest blanket with a book and her favorite songs. Harry insisted yet again that she’ll have fun, and it shouldn’t be too big. Insisted that they wouldn’t be there very long, and that was two hours ago. Y/N’s head hurts, her back and feet hurt as well and she doesn’t know any of the songs playing through the speaker. She’s just having a miserable time meanwhile Harry’s having the time of his life, she’s lost count of how many drinks he’s already had including the one currently in his hand. She knows it’s enough to get him to loosen up, to not care about the way he’s pressed against her, one tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanning the side of her neck as he sings along to whatever song is blasting through.

They rock gently together as if it’s not an upbeat pop song, lost in his own drunken world and she just wants to go home.

“Honey, you’re just the sweetest thing. Y’know that?” His voice all but oozed into her bloodstream, warming her skin and making her fight back a smile.

“And you’re drunk, I think we should go home Harry.”’She says, hoping he listens and tells her to take them home. Instead he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and squeezes her.

“Don’t wanna leave yet, m’having fun with you.” She can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips at his words.

“I know but we could have so much more fun at home in our pj’s. Doesn’t that sound nice, Harry?” He only hums and squeezes her tighter.

“M’having fun with you baby. S’nice seeing you all pretty. Look so pretty every day.” She can’t help the heat that rushes to her cheeks at his words, the main reason she doesn’t like attending parties with him.

He’s so cuddly and loving, the line they’ve made blurs whenever he’s drunk and makes it hard to differentiate between just friendship or something more. She knows he doesn’t mean any of it though, at least not in the way she hopes he means it. She can feel the nasty glares from all of the other girls, knowing they’re wishing to be her in shoes. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in Harry’s arms with him whispering in your ear and a goofy looking smile on his lips?

“Thank you, Harry. We can still have fun at home, I won’t change so I can still be all pretty for you and it’ll just be the two of us. I’m sorry, I wanna go home, Har. It’s getting to be too much.” She says just loud enough for him to hear, her eyes scanning the crowd. He sighs before kissing her neck ever so gently, a kiss so feathery soft that if she weren’t so sober she wouldn’t even feel it.

“Fine, let’s go home then baby. Don’t want my girl to be overwhelmed.” He says before unwrapping her from his embrace only to intertwine their hands together as he leads her to the exit. She’s grateful that he’s taking charge, her brain repeating the same three words over and over again.

My girl, my girl, MY girl, my GIRL, MY GIRL.

Those two words do something to her brain, sending her spiraling into the delusion she only entertains late at night when she’s alone in her bed. The fantasy that they’ve been together for a couple months, every drunken interaction always ends with a kiss and then cuddling in the bed. She follows him outside and to their, his car and he opens the door to the drivers side for her and walks around to the passenger side. She stands by the door, making sure he can get in the car without hurting himself and he huffs, reminding her of when they were kids.

“I can get in the car by myself, love. No need to fret over me.” His accent is deeper because of the alcohol and Y/N can only sigh and roll her eyes affectionately.

“I know H, just don’t want you to hurt yourself is all.” She says softly as she pulls the seatbelt around him.

“Always so sweet for me, baby. Thank you.” He smiles at her, a dopey expression on his face and she can only smile at him in return. She closes the door gently and walks to the other side, getting into the car and starting it, immediately turning on the radio in hopes it’ll distract him from seeing the tears roll down her face.

— — —

If there’s one thing Y/N hates is going on dates. Especially if they’re dates she doesn’t necessarily want to be on, just like the one she’s on now. Harry had insisted that he takes up the majority of the time (he does) and that she needs to go out more, (she doesn’t want to) so she reluctantly agreed to go on this stupid date. She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early just in case and to prepare herself, waited for ten extra minutes for him to decide to show up smelling strongly of some cheap cologne and cigarettes. Once they were seated, things stayed somewhat relaxed as they made small talk and got to know each other; he had made some remarks she didn’t necessarily agree with but she stayed quiet.

When it came time to order, there was a certain look on his eyes when she ordered. One that felt almost as if he was… judging her? He stayed quiet otherwise though, didn’t let his disgust be known verbally and she’s thankful for that. She’s sure they’ve been at the restaurant for about thirty minutes, give or take, but this is the longest she’s been out with a guy who isn’t Harry. That has to mean something, right? Sure the conversation could be better, maybe he could talk more and maybe seem a little more interested in what she has to say, but she can’t complain too much.

She can’t help but to wonder what Harry is doing right now, probably either sleep or playing on his game system. He might be on a date as well which could explain why he was soo insistent on getting her to go on this date, but she refuses to think that’s why. She’s bored and she misses him. She always misses him though, she’s gotten so used to basically being attached at the hip with him that it feels like years whenever they’re apart (even if it’s only a couple of hours, she’s just dramatic as Harry would say.)

“So are you and Harry together, or…” The guy asks and Y/N shakes her head quickly.

“Oh.. uh no! We’re not together.” He squints his eyes at her like he doesn’t believe her, and honestly she doesn’t blame him.

“So are you guys just screwing around?” Y/N laughs, a sound in between a snort and a scoff bubbles from her lips and her date only to stare at her in confusion.

She’s heard plenty of rumors regarding her and Harry’s friendship, that they’re dating or maybe siblings, one even said she’s secretly someone famous and he’s just her bodyguard. She laughed at that one and when she told Harry he simply smiled at her and said it’s only true; she’s his princess and he vowed to protect her from any and all harm and she smacked his shoulder with a dopey smile on her lips. But to hear that people think that they’re just sleeping around with each other is new, well at least to hear it. She won’t deny the fact that sometimes late at night she’ll daydream scenarios where the two are happily together doing all the couple-y stuff but sometimes those daydreams tend to wander and turn into something filthy.

Dreams of him whispering in her ear, praising her as he rocks against her. Dreams of him maybe catching her reading her smut books and recreating them together, trying new things and exploring each other’s bodies.. She shakes her head, thankful that she can play it off as her denying the rumor.

“No, no! We’re just friends, best friends actually.” She says and laughs gently, hoping her voice doesn’t crack. He stares at her a little while longer before his gaze begins lower and he clears his throat, she knows where this is going. This happens all the time on her dates.

“Well I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” He smirks afterwards and Y/N has to hold herself back from screwing her face up in disgust.

This is usually the part where she’ll excuse herself or the date begins to head downwards, leaving her with disappointment and the small hole in her chest she’s holding out for the small chance of Harry returning her feelings begins to ache. She clears her throat in response and begins to fidget in her seat.

“Uh, yeah sure. Anyways, are you enjoying your food?” She asks in hope that it’ll detour the conversation back into safer topics.

“I mean.. it’s alright. You look gorgeous, that dress really fits you. Are you enjoying your food?” He asks as he brings his fork to his mouth and the girl has to refrain from frowning at her date.

It’s safe to say that she misses her best friend, misses being cuddled up next to him and the two of them talking about anything and everything. She misses how comfortable they are, she misses his voice, his hugs.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it so far.” She says, her voice sounding disappointed that once more her date is turning into all of her previous ones.

“I was wondering if maybe I could stay over a little after this is done. I’d love to get to know you more.” She sighs softly before answering him.

“No, I’m sorry. If you excuse me, I'm just gonna go ahead and go. It was nice meeting you, and this should be enough to cover my half.” She says as she puts a couple bills on the table in front of him, she’s sure that it’s more than enough to pay for her meal and she should stick around to get her change; she just wants to leave though, to get away from him and back to her comfort. She immediately heads to the door, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she walks to her car. The disappointment stinging her heart yet again at the ending of another unsuccessful date.

— — —

Y/N’s managed to find herself at another party but this time Harry’s not glued to her side, he’s gotten dragged off by one of his friends. She’s not sure where he went or how long he’s been gone but she is having a much better time than she usually is. She thinks drinking a little bit before she goes helps, being in the comforting embrace of just her and Harry as they take a couple of shots helps her loosen up.

So she stands in the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the crowd as she attempts to find Harry and her body swaying the music. She nurses a red solo cup filled with some alcohol that tastes better than whatever she had the last time, it doesn’t burn her throat whenever she takes a sip of it and it flows down quite nicely if you ask her. Her body feels loose and overall she feels happy, she doesn’t find herself worrying about anything or overthinking.

A few people bump into her while she stands but she doesn’t mind that much, simply apologizing to them as she steps out of the way. The music is something pleasant and she thinks she maybe knows this song as it plays through the speakers, she finds herself mouthing along to the words as she makes her way through the crowd. She’s sure Harry couldn’t have gotten too far, she just wants to tell him about whatever drink she has and tell him how much she likes it. She just wants to see him. She stumbles as she walks hinting at the fact that she might have had a little too much to drink, bumping into a few people as she passes through. It’s nice to not have to be the one that’s sober like she usually is, although she hopes Harry kept his promise and stayed sober in his role as the designated driver. It’s nice to be able to let loose and honestly, she understands a little why Harry likes to go to these things.

As she passes through the crowd with a content smile on her face, she makes sure to ask a few people if they’ve seen her best friend. Some tell her the last place they’ve seen him while others haven’t seen him, she thanks them all the same with a smile on her face. She continues passing through the crowd until she finds a little glimpse of an opening in the crowd, the people slowly beginning to thin out and the music grows softer. When she makes it all the way through she sees Harry leaning against a wall, one hand nervously fidgeting with his hair and the other wrapped around his phone tightly.

He bites at his bottom lip nervously and she just wants to coo at him, kiss him and hug him forever.

“What’s a matter?” She asks as she steps closer to the boy, and his face immediately lights up and all of the tension seems to melt away.

“Couldn’t find you, honey. I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there, I tried to call you and you didn’t answer. I thought you… I was scared.” He says as he wraps her tight in his arms. She doesn’t try to say anything, she knows how he gets whenever he’s nervous and assuming the worst happened, allows him to take in the moment and to calm him down. They rock gently, his face pressed into her hair as he breathes her scent in.

He pulls away a couple minutes later and they stare at each other, his brow furrowed and lips slicked with spit, jade irises shining under the lights and filled with relief and care. Y/N doesn’t know what came over her, what led her to do what she’s about to do but her in the future better be prepared and absolutely angry at herself for drinking so much. She slowly begins to lean forward, tilt her head and pucker her lips subtly. Of course, Harry doesn’t think much of it or doesn’t care when their lips meet.

Slow and tender, she doesn’t bother to move her lips. She’s content with a peck, doesn't need to be greedy. He just looked so pretty that she couldn’t help herself. Harry’s arms are tight around her, keeping her close to him as if she planned on walking away again. She pulls away with a soft click and she licks her own lips, a goofy smile on her face as she stares at him.

“‘M so lucky.” She says, her words kinda slowed and all Harry can do is stare in shock at the girl.

He’s unsure what to do now although he knows the responsible thing to do is to take her home, get her changed and tucked into bed where there definitely won’t be anymore kisses and she’ll be safe and sound. He just stares at her, her eyes unfocused and her eyelashes wet as she stares back. The music blares but to them it’s simply background music, the two of them seemingly secluded away in their own personal bubble. It’s usually how it always is though, wherever they go but it always happens at these parties Harry drags her to, they’ll isolate themselves somewhere in a corner and just chat away until Harry decides to mingle with the other party goers. Harry thinks she’s pretty like this, well he usually always thinks she’s pretty. He likes to see her dress up though, which is why he invites her to so many of these parties, likes knowing all of the girls there envy Y/N because she’s his best friend.

A couple minutes go by, hours maybe but Harry doubts it, and Harry decides to take a couple steps back and rubs his hands down her arms to interlace their fingers together.

“Hey, love bug. You ready to go home?” He asks gently, wary of the fact that she could be more emotional and isn’t thinking straight in the first place for her to kiss him. The girl simply nods her head and allows the boy to lead her through the party crowd and outside, while Harry makes sure she doesn’t bump into any cars on the way to his own car. The breeze is soft and warm, gently caressing their cheeks as it passes through. The sun is filtering through the clouds, landing on Y/N’s face as they walk.

It doesn’t take very long to reach his car because he almost always parks as close to the entrance to make it easier for the other to escort them to the car when they’re drunk. It usually always ends up being Harry, so it feels weird in a way to have the roles reversed, to have him being the one taking care of her. He unlocks the car when they get close enough, his arm wrapped securely around the drunken girl just in case she stumbles. He listens as she rambles about something he can’t make out, her words slurring together due to excitement and her being drunk. A quality of hers that he’s always found endearing, so he lets her ramble of course, humming along to show he’s listening and only occasionally adding his own input when asked and he’s able to make out what she’s doing.

He opens the door for her, getting her all settled in and closing the door behind him, walking around to the driver’s side and starting the car. Once he starts driving, the radio stays off and the windows down to let in the breeze, Harry tries his best to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

— — —

Two weeks have passed since the drunken kiss incident and neither of them have really said much about it. Harry brought it up to her a couple days later and she only laughed and said it’s okay, everyone does stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Nothing has changed between the two necessarily, maybe Harry’s been going out of his way to walk her to her class and yeah maybe they have to be touching in any way. Whether it be holding hands like how they used to do, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, or their arms slung across the other waist or shoulders.

So he assumes that there’s nothing else to make of it, it’s not a big deal and honestly if it hasn’t affected their friendship, then he doesn’t mind ignoring it. He has noticed that she’s been the one to initiate the physical touch now, more open about it whereas before she shied away from it in hopes to not upset any of the girls in school. She doesn’t swat at his chest whenever he calls her the exaggerated pet names he used purposely to annoy her, she even said a few of them back. Sure, sometimes he’ll catch her looking at him with eyes all gooey late at night but that must be because she hasn’t had enough sleep.

They’re still the same two best friends like before, just a smidge different but it’s not a bad difference. Y/N thinks she could be okay with the way they are now, living in her own little imagination where they’re more than friends.

Which is why Y/N’s confused whenever Harry knocks on her door early in the morning. Ten in the morning isn’t super early but it’s definitely earlier than she’d like to be awake on a day where she has absolutely nothing else to do. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she gets out of bed and throws on some clothes as she makes her way to the door of her dorm. When she opens it, she sees Harry and a beautiful brunette by his side. She looks familiar to the girl, maybe they’ve shared a class before but all in all Y/N’s confused. Harry usually doesn’t stop by without letting her know (not that it mattered, he was over all the time it seemed) and definitely never brought another girl by.

“Harry? What’s going on?” Y/N asks, a yawn escaping her mouth afterwards and the other girl just smiles at Harry.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Liv. Liv, this is my best friend Y/N.” Harry says as he points at the girls, introducing them.

Y/N knows the respectful and proper thing to do is to greet her and welcome them into her to get to know one another, but she can’t wrap her brain around it all. She stares at them, more at the girl than Harry. She can’t bring herself to look at him without wanting to cry, she watches as Liv leans forward to give her a hug and tells her how it’s so great to finally meet her and then Y/N’s slamming the door in their face. She stares at the now closed door and hurries to lock it, she’s sure Harry will just open the door even though deep down she knows he won’t do that unless told otherwise that he can.

Usually, he talks to her about the girls he’s interested in, asks her if it’s okay to bring them over and gives her plenty of time to have her - unknown to him - breakdowns and prepare herself for this moment. She’s not sure when this happened or why he didn’t talk to her about it first, the only thing she’s sure of is the absolute heartache she feels right now. The painful jab in her heart with every beat, the feeling of her stomach falling. The pain that’s beginning to bloom in her head and the feeling of her knees hitting the floor, hard enough to leave a bruise but she can’t bring herself to care about that at the moment.

The immediate sting in her eyes as tears well up and fall from her eyes, the betrayal, the jealousy tearing its way up. The heartache overall is one she’s felt in smaller amounts as she listens to Harry talk about whichever girl he’s interested in asking out, but this.. this is something completely different. It’s intense, it burns and she can’t breathe. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, beating faster than normal.

She lets out loud sobs, cries she should be embarrassed of but at this moment she can’t bring herself to care. She’s grateful her roommates aren’t here, they kept telling her it’s not worth it to stay best friends with Harry due to how much she liked him. She constantly argued that she knew what she was doing, she could handle her own if something like this happened. She should’ve listened to them, would she have stopped being friends with Harry? She doesn’t think so, might’ve been distant to allow her feelings to dwindle back down.

She’s not sure how long she stayed on the floor as tears streamed down her face when her phone rings. She grabs it and stares at the screen, Harry’s name flashing across the screen and she just sighs as she turns the ringer off and sets the phone on the couch. She can’t talk to him right now. She stares at the floor, memories of their friendship flicking in and out, the memory of their kiss haunts her, she feels stupid. She hoped they were moving towards a relationship, how silly of her to think they could ever be more than just friends.

After a couple hours, she manages to pull herself from the floor and begins to make her way to her bed. Her safe haven, she can wrap herself in her softest blanket and read her silly little romance books or watch her favorite movie, where she can wallow in her own self pity. There’s a knock on the door, whoever’s on the other side knocks one, two, three times before it goes silent. She hopes they’ll go away, her roommates have a key so it can’t be someone she has to open the door for.

“Y/N. It’s me, Harry. I don’t know what I did that upset you so much, she’s gone. It’s just me. Please open the door, let’s talk about this.” He says, somewhat muffled but she can still hear how his voice is watery and shaky, can hear the pain in his voice and she just sniffles as she walks towards the door.

“There’s… nothing to talk about. Go home.” Her voice is just a reflection on how she feels right now, she’s sure he can hear it from the other side.

“Yes there is, Y/N. You slammed the door, the look on your face… I don’t know what all that was about but you looked so hurt. I want to know what happened.” He says and she just frowns.

He’s never paid attention to how her face looked before so why does it matter, she opens the door and stares at him. Fresh tears welling up in the girls’ eyes and she swears she can feel her heart breaking even more. He looks just about how she thinks she looks. His eyes full of tears and eyelashes all clumped together, red cheeks stained with tears and his skin flushed. His lips are wet and he can’t stop pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You happened, Harry. I tried, God I tried so hard to get over it. But I can’t. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to hear you talk about the girls you like knowing it’s not me, hurts hearing all the girls gossip about you and the things you do for them. It hurts when you’re drunk and treating me like I’m yours, calling me all these sweet fucking pet names and holding me close to you. It hurts that we act like we’re together and we just aren’t, we’ll never be. I love you so much that I’m just hurting myself in the process. I’m so scared to lose you that I tell myself that just being your friend is okay. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” A sob interrupts her, a wet choking sound and she sighs.

“I can’t just keep hoping and praying that something will happen and we’ll finally be together, it hurts too much. I’m so lucky to have you in my life and be your friend, but I don’t know if I can handle just being your friend. I can’t handle hoping that I’ll get my chance. I’m tired of waiting for something that’ll never happen. I’m not cutting you out because I don’t want to lose you, I just need some time alone. I need to get over you and learn how to be okay with just being your friend and nothing more.” She says through her tears and immediately she’s wrapped in a strong hug, his scent filling her nose and she cries even harder.

“I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you and didn’t see it. Take as much time as you need honey, I’ll be waiting for you always.”

“Okay, thank you.” She says as she pulls away and he nods, a sad smile on his face that she wishes wasn’t because of her.

“I love you.” He says before she shuts the door once more, the wall of their friendship being built slowly.

‘I love you’ she thinks is just the worst thing she’s ever heard, just a painful reminder that the love they share has never been on the same page, just another shatter of her already broken heart.

You can’t have love without the pain, and she’s the definition of just how much love can truly hurt you.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harrystyles #harry edward styles #harry styles angst #best friend!harry #my writing

[hsdiaries]

Oh Anna.

4.9k words - LHH!harry x best friend!original character x Niall.

Threesome, oral f & m recieving, p in v. Slight praise, slight dom.

Harry & Niall play a game on who can make Anna come more.

I pushed through the crowd, making my way to the back of the house. I hated parties, truly everything about them was pointless to me. Drunken fake conversations with people I wouldn't even remember tomorrow. I wasn't planning on coming, I was already in my bed when Anna texted me.

Anna:

Please come Haz. I want you here.

That was all it took and I was out of bed in skinny black jeans and a baggy grey tee; hair tied up in a bun. Now I was here, pushing my way through the crowd at Niall's house; all because his girlfriend said she wanted me here.

Yeah, that's right, his girlfriend.

Anna, Niall and I had been best friends for as long as I can remember. Niall and I always fighting for her attention since the moment we met her.

Obviously he won.

Yet, I was never fully convinced that he won every bit of it. She never stopped being flirty with me. Never stopped being touchy. Never stopped staring at me with those damn honey eyes.

I finally spotted my friends at the back of the house, on the normal grey couch we would all always congregate at. I pushed through the final group of people, as Niall turned and faced me.

"H! You came! What the hell?" He said walking over and embracing me. I chuckled and nodded.

"Decided I missed your pale Irish arse," I raised my eyebrows at him, causing him to laugh a big belly laugh.

"What's so funny?" I heard the sweetness of her voice behind us, and I released Niall, turning to face in her direction.

"Nothing, just Niall's face." I shrugged and he shoved me as we both laughed.

Anna giggled, her bottom lip disappearing behind her teeth before pursing out softly, "I mean, sometimes." She moved her honey brown eyes from me to wink at Niall.

"Yet you love me." Niall said, leaning close and kissing her nose, making me look away.

"Sometimes." She responded, glancing over at me. She was wearing a green crop top, high waisted jeans. She moved over to hug me and the smell of Black Opium filled my lungs. It was her signature scent.

"Thanks for coming." She said once Niall turned his attention back to the group. The pink of her lips was almost red today, I loved how the plumpness of the bottom always settled on her chin a bit.

"Only for you. Just remember that." I winked at her as she let me go, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Sooo, I brought us something..." she said addressing the group while still holding my gaze.

"And what would that be?" Tanya said, Anna moving her attention over. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small baggie with blue pills. Blue pills this group was really familiar with.

Tanya's eyes widened and she snatched the bag waving it around at the group, "Baby Anna always pulling through!" She quickly opened the bag, taking one out and popping it in her mouth like it was candy. She passed the bag around, our group each taking one. The baggie got to me and I grabbed it, handing it back to Anna.

"That's yours, H." She said, just looking at the bag then back at me.

"Not tonight, Anna." I said, and instantly she had those eyes. The soft ones, that narrowed in such a sexy manner.

"Please H. We have so much more fun." She pouted, her hand on my arm, causing me to swallow hard. Niall wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her towards him.

"Yeah, H, come on." He pretended to pout, fluttering his lashes at me causing me to laugh.

"Alright, alright, but you lot are responsible for waking my ass up tomorrow!" I said, emptying out the last pill in my hand before popping it in my mouth. Anna smirked, peeking up at Niall then back at me.

"Deal." She said, biting her lip.

—

Everyone started to feel the drug around the same time. It became an instant love fest. Hugs, kisses and so much touching. This was the normal with us, a giant orgy of a fucking friend group. Truth was everyone had fucked, touched, kissed done just about everything with everyone.

Except Anna and I.

It was the one boundary I never crossed.

But tonight, I wanted to cross it a million times over. I sat on the couch as everyone was up dancing. Tanya had found herself attached to my neck, her legs across mine as she nipped, sucked and kissed at my skin. She was trying to work me up, to get me to return the same lust towards her, but my eyes were fixed on Anna as she danced on Niall.

I watched as she reached her hands up, wrapping around Niall's neck, her perfect ass moving in motions that would drive any man wild, pushing back against him. He had his hands all over her, along her waist line, her hips. I saw him reaching between her legs, applying pressure in ways I knew I could do better. She tossed her head back onto his shoulder, turning her face so she could suck at his neck. I closed my eyes, pretending Tanya was Anna. Pretending she was dancing on me, her ass moving against my cock, it hardening at the idea of being that close to her.

I opened my eyes, looking back over at her and to my surprise she was already looking at me. Her eyes were skimming over the situation that was Tanya, her lips pursing. She shook her head, using it to call me over. I wasn't sure at first, until she mouthed the word.

"Come here." Her lips curled and I didn't hesitate.

"'Scuse me." I said pushing Tanya gently off of me.

"Harry, what the fuck!" I heard her say, but it didn't matter because I was moving straight to where I was being called.

I moved to stand in front of Anna, licking my lower lip, "You called."

She giggled and nodded, peeking up at Niall, "Baby, can I dance with Harry?"

Niall opened his eyes, as if coming to for the first time in a while, clearly on more than just the molly, "Yeah, that's fine." He said kissing her neck, "Just for a little." He started to let her go and she quickly grabbed his arm, turning around to face him.

"No, I want to dance with both of you." She said slyly, her hand moving up his arm. He looked down at her hand, then back to her face. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, feeling overwhelmed by everything going on. I wanted to touch her already, and I didn't want to wait for his response.

I moved forward, wrapping my arm around Anna's waist, pressing my cock into her ass. I was already hard and I wanted her to know it. I felt a pang of energy flow through me as she rolled her hips softly back, grinding on me. I felt my eyes want to close, but I had to do something first. I had to make Niall think this was his idea.

"She thinks she can handle us both mate, ain't that a funny thought." I said, smirking over at him. He narrowed his eyes a bit at me, taking in the situation then shaking his head.

"We ain't doing this mate. Not with her." He said, running his hands through his hair, watching my hands move over her stomach.

"Doing what?" Anna said, a slight innocence that didn't suit her layering her voice.

I took a chance, the risk of Niall decking me was something I could take. I turned my face into her neck, running the tip of my nose along the length of it. I heard her inhale sharply, pressing my lips against her neck. I didn't kiss her, I just spoke against it.

"Niall and I, we used to have a certain thing we liked to do. It was a game almost." I said, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

I heard her hum softly, a slight laugh escaping her lips, "Mm, a game? What was the game baby?" She said, pulling him closer to her. Niall's eyes searched Anna's face before his eyes shifted to me.

"Haz..." he said, his face so serious.

"He's scared I'll win if we dare to play again." I smirked, and he cocked his head to the side.

"You forget I have the upper hand here Styles." He said, challenging me, so I knew my taunting was working.

"And yet, I'd still win." I said, raising and lowering both my eyebrows, my lips moving back to Anna's neck causing her head to fall back slightly.

That's when it happened, the switch in Niall's head, "We used to see who could make a girl come more. That's the game."

Anna's head went straight, her face turning to me and then to Niall, "But then couldn't one of you just lie?"

"Oh no, Anna," I said, my hand wrapping around her neck, my thumb and pointer finger applying the softest pressure. I moved my lips to her ear, "We did it at the same time, taking turns. Whatever worked."

"Oh..." she swallowed, her face turned to me, and I loosened my grip on her neck a bit, then back to Niall. She licked her pink lips, "I wanna play." She said softly.

Niall took a deep breath, swallowing hard before he glared up at me, "Fine. Once everyone leaves, until then, keep your hands off her." He pulled her out of my arms and I chuckled, quickly reaching down and adjusting myself. I threw my hands up in defense and nodded.

"Hands off. 'Til later anyways." I smirked.

—

Everyone had slowly left the party, I sat on the couch, sipping on a whiskey. I laid my head back on the couch, closing my eyes, the molly was making me jittery at this point, but I didn't know what to do with all the extra energy.

As I sat, I felt someone climb on me, a leg on either side of me. My freehand moved to feel a bare leg, making me question who it was; but it was the damn Black Opium that let me know it was Anna. I smirked, keeping my head back and eyes closed.

"Is it game time already?" I teased and she giggled. I was surprised to feel her lips on my neck, my senses flying out the window the moment it happened. She kissed up to my ear, biting it softly.

"Niall's just locking up. I told him I was going to get started." She said, before pressing her lips on my earlobe.

Fucking hell.

I opened my eyes, sitting up and she pushed back so we could lock eyes, "Be an angel and place this down for me." I said, before quickly downing my whiskey and handing her the glass. I held onto her waist as she bent back placing the glass on the floor. She was in just her crop top and lace burgundy thong. I helped her sit back straight on me, but I pulled her closer to me, so our faces were inches from each other.

"I'm going to win," I whispered, "And you're going to regret not picking me."

Anna's POV

I searched his eyes and swallowed hard. There was a darkness that filled his eyes, just as his hand cupped my face pulling me in and kissing me deeply. His tongue quickly finding mine. For a moment I didn't know what to do with my hands, still completely stunned by his initial comment. Before I even had a chance to think about it, I felt someone pull me off of him; flipping me around. My back was pressed into Harry, both of us falling back against the couch. Niall leaned down, biting at my lower lip, before kissing me deeply. He broke the kiss, looking over my shoulder at Harry, "I'll start."

He winked, standing up straight and slipping off his shirt; before lowering himself back down. He slipped his arms under the bend of my knees, slipping me down Harry's body so that my ass was hanging between the open space of Harry's legs. He dropped down to his knees, his lips moving up right thigh, placing kisses up it. His tongue moved up my thigh, skimming along the front line of my thong; tracing the bend of my upper thigh and hip. It drove chills through me, his lips moving to my center, his tongue lapping on my clit over the thin material of my thong.

My head fell back, remembering I was laying on Harry. I peeked up at him and he smirked, his hands soon on my body. His hands were so big, strong as they touched me, moving over my tits. He palmed at them over my crop top, my nipples hardening and I wanted nothing more than for him to slip it off me. Meanwhile, Niall's hands were on my hips, pulling my thong down and off my body. He bit at my legs as he made his way back to my middle, his tongue soon met my folds, moving my wetness along every part of my center.

"Mmm," I hummed, my hands reaching down into Niall's hair and as if I was giving him too much attention; Harry's hands pushed down my top, one hand on each of my tits, his fingers teasing at my nipples.

His lips were on my cheek, placing kisses on it as his hands moved on me. His lips moving down to my ear, whispering softly, "You feel good, Anna?" I felt myself nod, as Niall's tongue rolled on my clit, he sucked at it, causing my eyes to roll back, "You like when he eats you out like that angel? His tongue taking in your sweetness."

His words made me push Niall's head down further on me, his tongue moving down my slit, creating a figure eight motion along my opening, up to my clit. Each time he reached my clit he would suck on it softly, building an anticipation in me for every time it would come. Niall knew it drove me insane and he was using it to his advantage.

"Oh god, yes." I moaned out, and Harry pulled at my already hard nipples, causing me to yelp from the mixture of pain and pleasure I was feeling. He slapped my tits, palming at them to soothing the pain, and I heard myself whimper at the sensation. He did it, again and again, Niall adjusting himself to slip two fingers inside of me, instantly curling in me and meeting my sweet spot.

"Oh, fuck, Ni—that feels so...oh god." I moaned, my hips beginning to buck towards him, his fingers curving in me, his tongue on my clit. I felt every bit of me tremble at the feeling of being touched like I was, Niall's gentle roughness, mixed with Harry's aggressive nature was driving me to my edge.

"That's it angel, does he feel good? Do you feel good being eat out like that by him, hmm?" His hand moved up to my neck, choking me as his other hand kept rolling my nipples in his fingers. Niall moved his face, his thumb replacing his tongue on my clit, his fingers still moving inside me, quickly along my g spot, in and out.

"Look at me, petal." He cooed at me, and I bit my lip, struggling to move my eyes to him, "Come for me love." He encouraged me as my eyes found his. His thumb moving quick circles over my clit. My mess was clear on his chin and when he licked his lips, my back arched.

"Oh ... fu .. Niall." I moaned his name, my head falling back. Harry turned my face to his, kissing me deeply, his tongue running past mine. I moaned into our kiss, feeling the knot in my stomach the quicker Niall moved his thumb and his fingers. I broke the kiss, rest my forehead against Harry's cheek, whimpers escaping me.

"Come Anna, come so I can finally show you what you've been missing." Harry whispered and that was enough to take me there. The thought alone of finally have Harry touch me in this way carried me straight to my high. I felt myself clench around Niall's fingers, my mess spilling all over him.

"Oh god, yes. Mmm..." I said, feeling my body go limp. I didn't have a moment to breath, soon Harry was pulling me up, and laying me on the couch, leaving space between my head and the arm rest. I watched as he hovered over me, I took him in, his muscles, his tattoos. He was beautiful and I couldn't deny it. He unbuttoned his pants, his hard length clearly being suffocated by his tight pants. I pushed up, trying to help him, to offer relief and he quickly pushed me down.

"He's going to need you more than me." He said, pointing with his eyes in Niall's direction. I turned to face him, he was down to just his briefs, his hard length filling them up. He walked over and kneeled down, kissing me. I reached up and pulled his face closer to mine, thanking him for my high. He groaned against my lips, and I reach down, my hand palming over his length.

In that moment Harry placed three fingers on my clit, his motions were painstakingly slow on me, but due to my sensitivity from my previous high, it felt like he was moving quickly. I broke my kiss from Niall. Looking over at Harry, I felt a whine escape me, my hips pushing forward against his fingers and he used his free hand to push me down.

"Patience, angel. I know your sensitive right now. I know this still feels so good, don't it?" He teased and I felt my eyes roll back slightly.

"Harry please, oh god..." I begged but his fingers kept moving slowly on me.

"Come here." I heard Niall say, turning my face towards him, he squeezed my cheeks softly, slipping his thumb into my mouth, "Lend me your mouth, petal?" He said as he pulled out his cock from his briefs, precum already on his pink tip. I nodded in his hold, hungry for him, feeling so many sensations all over my body being touched by both of them. He pushed his cock in my mouth, not allowing anytime to adjust, shoving his length to the back of my throat. I swallowed against his length causing him to groan.

"Fuck Anna, your mouth." He said, pulling out only to thrust back in, over and over. My saliva was all over his cock, dribbling down my chin as he moved. His groans mixed with my name and Harry's slow movement on my clit made the knots in my stomach start to form.

"You look so pretty with his cock in your mouth, Angel." Harry said, his finger still moving in slow circles on my clit, my moan vibrating against Niall's cock as he pushed it deep in my throat.

"An — fuck baby." He pulled out, ramming back into my mouth, holding my head tight so I couldn't pull away. I felt my legs start to tremble, Harry's teasing movements on my clit starting to become so overbearing I knew I was going to come again. I pushed against Niall, needing to gasp for air. He pulled out, a string of my saliva clinging onto his cock. I turned to look at Harry, his cock was in his hand, pumping up and down his length as his fingers moved on me.

"Har — Uh, Harry I'm going to come, please don't stop." I said, my head falling back as I felt my release happen. As I began coming, he began moving his fingers faster on me, moving quickly from side to side on my clit. I screamed out in pleasure, "Harry, please." I moved my hand down to grab his but Niall quickly stopped it, wrapping his hand around my wrist. He brought it over my head, grabbing the other and doing the same. He had placed his foot up on the couch behind my head. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue finding mine as Harry's fingers kept moving quickly on my clit.

"We can't play the game if you interrupt, baby." He said against our kiss, my moans causing me to turn my head away. Niall pushed up, letting go of my hands and moving to palm at my breasts, pinching my nipples as he did. I couldn't find the end of my current high and the start of the new one Harry was causing.

"Oh, oh god...fuck that feels so good." I moaned, my back arching, my hands reaching up to grab Niall's cock in them, I moved them along his length, my palm running over his tip. I moved another to palm at his balls.

"Fucking hell Anna. Fuck." He groaned, pinching my nipples hard and tugging them up. I licked my lips, feeling my releasing coming again, Harry fingers moving quicker.

"Come for me angel, come for me" Harry said, Niall's groans lacing with my moans created the most beautiful sound in the living space we were in, "God, yours so fucking wet Anna, come all over me baby, make more of mess on me, come on be a good girl my sweet angel."

"Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck." I yelled out, my legs trying to squeeze shut as he made me come again, an orgasm like I had never felt before shot through my body. I didn't have a moment ride it out, to come down from it, because soon Niall was sitting me up.

He sat on the arm rest of the couch, pulling me up so that my legs were between his. He held my body up, so I was hovering over him. I felt him wasting no time, rubbing the tip of his cock against my opening. The thing about Niall was, his cock was not only big in length, but in girth as well. He began pushing himself in me, lowering me onto himself. I moaned out in pleasure, my hands gripping onto his thighs. I was so wet, I had no problem adjusting around him. He moved me up and down his cock, my hips rolling on him each time he lowered me down.

"Niall, you feel so good." I moaned, tossing my head back onto his shoulder, I turned my head, kissing at his neck, biting it causing him to groan. I could see Harry out of the corner of my eye moving towards us on the couch. He stopped right in front of us on his knees.

I watched as he lowered his head down, his tongue finding my clit, rolling circles on it as I rolled my hips on Niall's cock. In doing so I kept pushing against his tongue, my head pushing back further on Niall's shoulders, my moans escaping me as my hand reached down and tangled itself in Harry's hair. His bun had become loose and messy, and I wanted it completely out. I pulled his mouth off me, pulling him up so we could lock eyes, Niall beginning to thrust fast into me as I kept rolling my hips.

"Fu—Fuck, oh god yes Niall...fuck." I said, all while holding eye contact with Harry. He narrowed his eyes at me, reaching between my legs, moving his fingers roughly against my clit, causing screams to escape me.

"I thought it was a game?" I said, forcing the words out of me.

"Fuck the game," he said, moving his fingers on me faster, he moved his body closer to mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue messily moving on mine. I felt Niall yank my head back by the hair, moving my lips to his but this didn't stop Harry. He moved it kiss me as well, all of our lips moving against each others, Niall's cock thrusting deeper inside me, Harry's fingers slowing down against my clit only to speed up, rolling along it, moving side to side.

"Oh, god, fu—uck...please..." my moans were interrupted by Harry taking control and kissing me deeply, his tongue running along mine, as his fingers kept moving on me. I could feel ever single one of my muscles tense up. I was so close to my high. I gripped onto Niall's thighs so I could bounce on him. Moving up and down his length, squeezing against him as I did, causing him to groan.

"Fuck Anna, fuck baby." He said, thrusting up as I moved my body down, hitting right against my sweet spot, pushing me over the edge. I felt every muscle release, I felt my release all over him. I broke from my kiss with Harry, my head tossing back as I moaned out in pleasure. Harry's mouth moving to my tits, sucking them as I rode out my high on Niall's cock.

"Come 'ere." I heard Harry say, my head falling back straight as he pulled me off Niall. He quickly flipped me so I was laying on the couch, bringing my left leg over his shoulder. He held his cock in his hand, rubbing against my opening, his thumb on clit. He began to slip inside me, his eyebrows furrowing as he hissed.

"God damn it, Anna...uh.." he groaned as he slipped inside me, my hands gripping at his biceps as he did. I took him in, in a way I hadn't ever before. His bare skin, his tattoos, they way his muscles flexed as he pushed in and out of me. He was so god like it felt unfair. As he pushed further in me, he pushed my leg toward my body, my thigh pushing against my torso. He was slipping in so deep, I felt like I couldn't handle all of him.

"Fuck, Harry...don't stop." I moaned, my eyes locked on his as I felt him pick up his pace. I for a moment forgot Niall was there until he appeared over me.

"I hate how much you're enjoying this petal." He said, reaching down and choking me, "I hate his bloody name coming out of your mouth like that." He said, Harry snickering, moving quicker in me, his strokes felt long and hard. I knew he was getting off on making Niall jealous and it was turning me on more.

"But he feels so fucking good." I choked out, knowing I was only adding fuel to the fire. I let my eyes roll back, moans escaping me as Harry kissed along my calf as he fucked me.

Niall slid his hand up to my jaw, turning my face toward his, "Open that pretty mouth petal, let me see your tongue."

I did as he asked, my tongue sticking out for him as he spit on it, before shoving his length in my mouth. My tongue immediately smooth along him, gagging as he pushed himself deeper in me. He was holding my face, his hand under my chin, groan escaping him.

Both of them, were fucking me relentlessly, Niall giving me small breaks to catch my breath before is cock filled my mouth again. Harry's thumb teasing my clit, slow and fast circles on me. He would add more of his body weight on my leg, pushing it closer to my body allowing him deeper in me.

I moaned, gagging every time I did, I was going to come again, I couldn't fight it. I knew they both were close to. Harry's movements becoming sloppy, his moans more consistent. Niall was gripping at his balls as he kept fucking my mouth, muttering my name like he did just before he came.

We were all going to come undone together, the thought making me push my hips up to meet Harry's. Niall's hand moving over my tits, pinching hard at my nipples.

And then everything went still. Quiet. Both of them groaning, exhaling that breath they had take as they came, their release filling me one way or another. Niall pulled out of my mouth, his thumb pressing on my lower lip, as I squeezed against Harry, keeping him inside me. He whimpered at the feeling, gripping onto my hips.

"Swallow like a good girl." Niall said, and I nodded, closing my lips against his thumb, and swallowing his come. I licked my lips and he bent down, kissing me deeply as Harry pulled out of me slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. I felt him place a small kiss on my clit, then my thighs, before removing himself from me. He pushed off the couch, walking around so he was behind my head, leaning down, and shoving Niall's face from mine. He kissed me deeply and soon Niall and him were fighting for my lips.

I chuckled, turning so neither of them could kiss me. I turned back and looked at both of them, a small smirk on my face. "I'll gladly play this game again."

"Right now?" Harry teased.

"You two couldn't keep up." I winked, both of them looking at each other then back at me.

"Try us." Niall smirked, before kissing me again.

#harry styles #fanfic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x original character #narry #Narry ff #Narry fanfic #lhh!harry x y/n #lhh!harry #Harry x niall x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #best friend!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry smut

[1d1195]

Faking It (Part 2)

You can read the first part here: Faking It it wasn't a great first part in my opinion because I wrote it on my phone while falling asleep but a lot of you wanted more:

@gem1712 @sunshinextemptress94 @fairytale07 @cherry01 @daniizstyles @igave-so-manysigns

so here it is :)

~3.5k words

warnings: smut. a lot of it. good girl, praise kink, doggy, oral, 18+ only please.

“We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

Harry was the only thing that was on her mind. She was lucky her autonomic nervous system oversaw things like breathing because if it required any thought, she was a goner. Harry was kissing her. Her best friend was nipping at her lips and asking for permission to let his tongue into her mouth without words. His hands were touching, caressing, and moving all over her sides. He pulled on her belt loops to get her hips closer to his, angling her so he fit snuggly between her thighs, and she could feel the hard bulge through both their clothing.

Fortunately, her autonomic nervous system also controlled her heart rate and prevented a full-blown cardiac episode. Although, she felt as if it was still close. Only Harry could mess up the automatic responses of her body with just a press of his hard length against her core. She moaned softly at the thought of it inside her.

“S’good,” he murmured breaking his mouth away from her lips to press a kiss to just below her earlobe. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Keep moaning. Gonna make y’cum so hard,” he promised.

The only brain cell that wasn’t obsessed with Harry managed to squeak out her worry. “Um... sometimes...it’s hard for me t’cum,” she whispered. It should have been awkward to say that out loud. But this was Harry. Her Harry. If it was another guy, she would have blushed and felt worse but...Harry was kissing her skin and making her think of all the things she wished he would do to her so many times. Whenever he wore those sparkly vests that showed off all his muscles while he danced on stage... It was unfair that he was so hot. Now he was there, kissing her whole body, promising he was going to make her see stars.

“Oh?” He mumbled into her throat as he kissed down over her collarbones, his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt at the same time coaxing her out of the clothing. “So y’better not fake it,” he murmured reattaching his lips to her making her wonder why they never did this before. “If it takes all night, love,” his voice was sultry, but she could hear the kindness of her best friend whispering a promise to her. Hiding in his practically pornographic whispers. “No faking it,” he repeated. “Wanna feel y’cum on my fingers...on m’tongue...on m’cock,” he was nearly whimpering into her skin.

Of course, she was flushed. “Can... we go in the bedroom?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t give any vocal affirmation, but she was suddenly in the air, over his shoulder as if she weighed less than a bag of groceries. She giggled slightly and pinched his butt since it was right in front of her face. It sparked a low chuckle from him, and they were in his room. It smelled like the candle he got her for Christmas. The bed was made with the sheets he got her for her birthday. “Don’t know how long I wanted this, kitten,” he promised as he deposited her on the bed so gently. No longer a bag of groceries but a delicate vase that needed to be wrapped in paper for storage.

Harry’s muscles were going to break her mind. “Me too,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He paused his movements, which were undoing the button and zipper of her jeans and he looked at her with that face she adored so much. It was her best friend. The person she didn’t feel embarrassed or weird around. He probably knew her every thought before she had it. Harry had a knack for knowing what she needed. “Didn’t know that.”

“How could I not?” She asked. “You’re...you,” if it were anyone else it would mean Harry Styles. Boy band. Singer. Small time actor. Celebrity.

But on her lips...it wasn’t. It was just Harry. The person she told everything and never hid from. The one that watched her throw up with the stomach bug and hold her while she sobbed over heartbreak so bad that she got snot all over his T-shirt and he didn’t even care.

Harry already wanted to be inside her so very badly. He imagined it so many times while on tour buses and in hotel rooms. His hand fisted around his cock pretending it was her warm body imagining what she would feel like when she sent him voice memos of her singing to plants. He fell so hard for her just watching her wash dishes on FaceTime with him while he struggled to fall asleep in a hotel room that didn’t feel like their cozy apartment—although the was sure it would if she were there with him. She told bad jokes like he did and always laughed at his. Even when she had already heard it. Her smile lit up the room.

The moment he saw her he didn’t get butterflies. There was no symphony of classical music. Instead, his heart rate slowed. There was this glow around her. Like an aura of sunlight backlighting her figure. It was his best friend. The person he never felt like a celebrity around. It was just her and Harry when they were together. It should have been so obvious. This should have happened ages ago. But right now, he wanted to ask her all the thoughts he didn’t know; she wanted this. Had wanted this for a while.

Maybe he should have stopped and asked her more. They would have all the time in the world. But he wanted to prove that he could make her cum and that no one—especially her—would fake it with him. There would be time for questions later. Harry was certain that he could do it all with her. Everything.

Harry’s lips were back on hers, his kiss languid now and she felt it vibrate through every cell in her body. Her toes tingled and she had her hands fisted into his hair and pulled him closer to her. His hands pulled her jeans down her thighs and off her legs. His fingers trailed slowly up her shin, and he hooked it over his hip as he dipped down to grind against her and just the pair of underwear separating her from his clothing.

“You’ve never seen me naked,” she reminded him as he tugged his shirt over his head.

“Uh...” he chuckled sheepishly. “Might have caught y’leaving the shower a few times.”

She gaped at him. “Harry!”

“Oh please, kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “Know y’saw me when m’drunk.” Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of red and imagined the times Harry came stumbling in the apartment and almost immediately stripping in front of her. “Mmm...” He unbuttoned his own jeans. “S’what I thought.”

“I like what I saw,” she admitted.

“Should have told me,” he murmured and dipped back down to kiss the length of her neck. “I loved what I saw,” he promised. “Take your shirt off.”

She had no choice but to obey him. She tugged her bra with her shirt leaving her nearly totally bare in front of him. She watched his eyes roam over her. Again, she expected it to be uncomfortable, but it was as if it was the only thing that made any sense at all.

Harry was looking at her as if she was a sculpture in a museum. His gaze was heavy and warm. “I don’t want t’stop looking at you,” he murmured. “You’re gorgeous, kitten.”

It felt like someone had set her on fire. His skin was warm against her body, and she tried to remind herself that this was her actual life. It wasn’t one of her really good dreams. His boxers were thin—so were her panties—keeping very little between them. The last bits of fabric separating each other from where she wanted him most.

“No faking it.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” she tilted her head back to give him more access to her collarbones. She wasn’t one to have a display of love bites, but she wanted him to suck her skin purple and bruised with a reminder that he was really going to make her cum.

“Kitten,” he pulled away from her. He pinned her hands beside her head, pushed himself to hover above her. His cross dangled from his chest. It felt like it was hypnotizing her.

But Harry looked at her... like... like he loved her. “Any time y’want to stop, you say it,” he warned her. “Promise me.”

The air in her lungs felt like it was choking her. “Promise,” she whispered.

“Don’t y’dare fake it,” he reminded her again and pushed to the side of her body to tug his boxers off. She tried not to stare but he was so long and firm. It was impossible not to look.

“I can’t,” she spoke before she thought about what she was saying.

He smirked and looked down at her panties separating him from where he wanted to be most. “D’you have an attachment t’these?” He asked his finger dipping into the elastic of the half-lace, half-spandex fabric. She shook her head. “Good,” he murmured and ripped the hole he spotted in the lace when he pulled her pants down her legs earlier.

Oh, there was no way she would need to fake it.

“Gonna make y’cum so hard, kitten,” he promised bringing his mouth to the inside of her thigh and pressing wet, warm kisses on her soft skin. He was losing his mind being so close to where he wanted to be most. “Where’s y’cactus?” He asked teasingly.

She was gone. Harry’s breath was so close to the apex of her thighs. She was aching. He ripped her underwear off. His question didn’t even register in her clouded mind. She arched toward him wanting his mouth between her legs more than she ever wanted anything.

“Kitten,” he hummed his nose brushing against her sensitive thighs. She wanted to close her legs around his head. “Asked y’something.”

“What?” She asked.

He chuckled, his breath torturing her body in ways she never imagined. “Cactus.”

“No...” she shook her head. “Please no,” she whimpered. She didn’t want that. She wanted Harry. Wanted his lips on her and his cock inside her. She wanted him and only him.

“Just in case, love,” he promised. “Gonna take care of you, promise,” he kissed the inside of her legs. “Mmm...” he sighed. “Please, kitten,” he begged.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered and reached blindly behind her pillows and pulled the vibrator from the pillowcase and tossed it beside them on the empty space of her bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he moaned and pressed his lips to her dripping hole.

She gasped and arched immediately into his face, and he gripped the outside of her hips so hard they would certainly bruise. He was sinfully good at it. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing. How on earth could he write a song about someone faking it? She was going to cum in seconds. His tongue dipped perfectly between her folds and pressed into spaces she didn’t know could feel so good. He slipped further up and flicked his tongue against her clit so expertly it felt like his mouth belonged between her legs.

“Feel like y’part of m’body,” he murmured into her thigh while he took a moment to breathe. The cool air made her spin as well as the words that came from his lips. She grabbed fistfuls of his curls and tugged him back to her center. “Y’like that, kitten?” He asked against her sensitive skin.

“Yes,” she whimpered. She couldn’t even give into the teasing in his voice. She couldn’t manage any sort of flirting. All she wanted was his mouth to lick her until she couldn’t move.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he sucked her clit between his lips so he could focus his tongue’s attention on the little bundle that would drive her mad. She keened and whimpered tugging on his hair. Her heels dug into his back as she tried to get him closer to her even though it was impossible. He couldn’t get closer. “Y’taste like heaven, kitten,” he murmured. He felt drunk on her. He would stay there forever. Even with the feeling of how hard he was had him rutting against her comforter. It was worth it. Just to smell her, taste her, kiss her most sensitive skin and lick every part of her that deserved the utmost attention. “S’good, baby,” he cooed. “Good girl,” he repeated as she pulled his hair harder. “Keep doing that,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S’good, good,” he praised.

Holy shit. She could feel the heat spreading all through her body. She was going to explode, and she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop if she didn’t do something right now. “Stop, stop, stop,” she begged, her voice breathy as she released his curls and removed her legs from their vice around his body.

Harry ripped from her immediately, alarm and worry painting his features. “What, s’wrong, kitten?” He asked. Her best friend was back. The person that worried about her when she fell asleep with a candle burning. The only one who seemed to care that she made it home safely when it was raining, and he wasn’t even in the same country as her.

Her breath came in pants, and she felt so utterly fucked out already she was so screwed when he was finally inside her. “Want you inside me,” she whispered her cheeks blushing with the request.

Relief replaced the terrified expression on his face. He even smiled so beautifully, like she was the most amazing thing he had ever had the pleasure of gazing at for any period of time. He thought she was regretting it. Hated it. Wanted nothing to do with him. The idea of losing his best friend was unbearable. This was manageable.

“Whatever y’want, kitten,” he promised. “Condom?” He asked. She tilted her head toward the nightstand.

“Uh...” she took a deep breath. “I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“How long is a while?” He asked.

“Uh...” she swallowed. “Like... a year?”

He paused his blindly felt search into her nightstand drawer looking for a foil square. “A year?” He asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I was kind of swearing off guys...till you came to your senses,” she was joking but Harry could see the worry the hurt in her eyes because this was his best friend.

He knew her last relationship fucked with her head a lot. He didn’t know it meant she had spent the last year fucking her fingers and toys because of it. “Me?” He mumbled.

“S’always been you,” she shrugged looking away from him. He knew that look. It was the feeling of inadequacy she got whenever she struggled with wanting to be the best in her class, her job, as a daughter, and a friend...a girlfriend. “You’re just...never here.”

This was suddenly not just about making her come so hard she would make her voice hoarse from moaning his name. This was to assure her that he adored her. Every single part of her. This was safe. This was okay because it was them. “Kitten,” he whispered. “You’re m’favorite person in the world.”

She nodded, feeling stupid to bring this up now. After he nearly had her in shambles from just his tongue. She didn’t look at him and Harry brought his hand to her face and turned her to look at him. His beautiful eyes. His perfect pink lips. The way he smelled like home.

“Kitten,” he leaned down to press his lips on her forehead. “Y’should have said something. Only an idiot would give y’up.”

“But you’re...” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you’re my Harry... but you are someone... someone important,” she whispered. “I’m just...”

“No,” he interrupted. “No, love. You are the most important person I know.”

Looking up at him through her lashes had his heart skipping a beat. He smiled kindly at her. “We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

“No...m’good. Also, if you don’t make me come...after all that, I might cry.”

“Well...” he ripped the wrapper open with his teeth and slid the rubber over his shaft. “Definitely don’t want that,” he smirked. “What’s your favorite position, kitten?” He asked pumping his hand gently over his length along with the condom. At the same time he brought his hand down to her center lightly rubbing his index finger over her clit.

She felt embarrassment flood her body. “Um...”

“No faking, I’ll know,” he promised dipping his finger lower between her folds. As if this was normal. A conversation that two best friends had all the time while they looked at each other naked. She closed her eyes and pushed herself over until she was on all fours. Harry moaned. “Beautiful,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her fleshy backside before he lined himself up behind her. “Say if it hurts, angel,” he mumbled. She felt the tip of him enter her, but it didn’t seem to matter that she was dripping with desire for him. He felt enormous as he slowly slid in. He was patient and slow and paused periodically until his torso pressed snuggly against her pretty bum. She moaned low and arched so her hands gripped the top of the mattress below the pillows, her face smushed against the comforter. He tilted his head back and moaned in response, the condom doing very little to prevent him from feeling like exploding inside her just from entering her. “Oh, s’good, angel. Good girl. Taking me so well,” he crooned. She felt like his voice was going to send her into a spiral. It never felt like this. It felt like she was meant to have Harry inside her. “S’that good, baby?” He asked hands gripping the outside of her hips. “Y’feel like heaven, love,” he moaned. “Think m’gonna last two seconds when I start moving.”

She managed a light laughter, but it felt so good to be wrapped around him. His fingers digging into her skin made her feel so...good. “You can move,” she told him.

“Yeah?” He croaked feeling so heavenly already. She dropped her chest to the mattress and Harry thought the curve of her spine dipping was so fucking gorgeous he practically wanted to cry. “Y’sure?”

“Please.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Slowly he pulled himself out till just the tip of his cock was in her warm, wet pussy and then slid back in a little faster. She moaned and Harry felt her clench around him at the same time. “Oh,” he groaned his hand sliding down the length of her spine and gripping a handful of her bum. “Careful, kitten,” he whispered.

She was backing herself up to him as he pressed forward creating this heavenly feel that made every part of her shake with desire for him. “No faking,” he murmured.

“No faking,” she repeated breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he cooed rubbing her sides as he snapped his hips toward her and enjoying the view of her naked skin before him. He smacked the side of her bum not quite hard, but not quite gentle. She whimpered and clenched again making Harry gasp out. “Oh good girl,” he grunted his voice hoarse with desire. “S’good. Do that again,” he spanked her with the same force again. “S’a good girl.”

“Harry,” she could feel the knot in her stomach unraveling. She moaned into the mattress, her heart rate skyrocketing. “I’m—”

“Good, good girl,” he praised. “Cum. Cum all over me, good girl,” he whispered. Leaning forward to reach around her hip and pressed on the bundle of nerves to set her over the edge.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered breathlessly her body slumping forward as Harry felt the waves of pleasure cause her to flutter around him making his mind spin while he tried to focus on riding out her orgasm so she felt it for as long as she could. She was twitching and whimpering as the waves subsided and Harry kept pumping into her.

“Good girl. Right there, kitten,” he whispered. “M’right there,” he promised croaking out the words thickly as he finally spilled into the condom with three final deep pumps. He pulled himself out causing a hiss to escape his lips. Her hips slumped down to the mattress and Harry twisted off and tossed the condom into the trash by her bedside.

He turned her over to her back so he could gaze at her lovingly. It made her stomach twist. “No faking?” He asked cupping her face as she took deep breaths. The smile on his lips made her crazy with adoration for him.

“Yeah,” she smirked. “Faked the whole thing.”

He chuckled. “Want your cactus?” He smirked.

She shook her head and pressed her face against his chest as she brought her hand to his face and kissed him softly on the lips. “M’good,” she promised.

“Good.”

“You didn’t fake it, did you?” She asked.

“Oh kitten. S’no way,” he kissed the top of her head. “S’all you. Always been you.”

-

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @st-ev-ie @lovrave

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #hs #hs fic #hs writing #one direction #one direction writing #best friend!harry #roommate!harry #famous!harry #faking it

[gurugirl]

oldest to newest

First Smutty One Shot (3.5k words)

in which Harry wants to buy your albums but then he realizes he wants a little something more from you or where Harry fucks you so you'll calm down

Again & Again (5.4k words)

in which lhh!Harry is your server and he takes you home after girl’s night is over or where lhh!Harry fucks you good, but comes too fast

Gonna Make You Mine (6k words) (mafia!harry)

extra

in which Harry is your boyfriend's boss and he wants to have you for himself or where Harry fucks you in front of your boyfriend

The Work Call (1.3k words)

in which you’re desperate for Harry’s attention when he’s ignoring you on a work call

Too Hard to Keep Quiet (678 words) (boyfriend!harry)

in which you and Harry try to keep it down while having sex in your childhood bedroom down the hall from your family

The Doctor & the Psychopath (9.7k words)

extra

in which Harry is facing serious assault charges and you’re the forensic psychologist tasked with analyzing him or where Harry manipulates you into having sex but you kind of like it

Music For a Festival (896 words)

in which you meet Harry, the lead singer of a local rock band, at a music festival and you bring him back to your tent

Thank You, Next (7.3k words)

extra

in which you are at a club with your very drunk boyfriend and you and Harry spot one another from across the room or where you meet lhh!Harry at a club while you're with your boyfriend and he fucks you in the bathroom

A Public Nuisance (1.6k words) (coworker!harry)

you and Harry are office coworkers and everyone’s out tonight at the local bar celebrating, but you and Harry find yourselves in a rather compromising position

Sex Ed With Harry (7.4k words) (innocent virgin!reader)

in which you’re a sweet, innocent, Christian, virgin and you meet Harry at a college party and he can show you a few things

Dirty & Rough (1.6k words)

reader ask:harry cheats on his gf with you and maybe not necessarily a breeding kink but cream pie kink ?? like, “i’m gonna stuff you so full of my cum”. veryyyy rough and degrading like he’s just using you to get off. “cumdump” etc..maybe he’s quite a bit older than u as well. face slapping, spit kink, as dirty as possible…you get me LOL

I Guess You're All Mine (11.9k words) (friends to lovers)

based on a true story: in which Harry is the hot drummer in your boyfriend’s band and he tells you a secret that changes everything

The Long Weekend (9.8k words) (friends to enemies to lovers)

extra

in which you and Harry hate one another but then things change

The Wedding Guest (4.5k words)

in which you meet Harry at a friend's wedding and show up at his hotel room the next morning to take him up on an offer he made you the night before

Lactation kink (700 words)

reader ask: I don't know if this sounds weird, but you would write one where the reader and Harry had a baby and while she and Harry are having sex, milk starts to come out of her breasts and he starts to suck

The Scientist & the Stripper (15.2k words) (nerd!harry | virgin!harry)

extra #1 | extra #2

in which virgin/nerd!Harry moves in next door to you and you invite him over for a small get together with friends where he gets more than he bargained for at the end of the night

On Halloween Morning (8.7k words) (ghost!harry)

a horror-filled Halloween one-shot. Harry is a ghost and you don't believe in ghostsbut you find out you were dead wrong.

Psoriasis Fluff (652 words)

reader ask: Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry (no smut)

Mixed Signals (9.5k words) (best friends to lovers)

bestfriends to lovers one shot - You and Harry have been best friends since you were children and now that you're both adults you can no longer deny the feelings that have been there all along

The Threesome (3.3k words) (Fratboy!Harry)

Harry's hot but he's nice and he's into you tonight

A Delicate Thing (7.6k words) (mafia boss!harry)

extra

Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night.

Tell Me You Hate Me (12.1k words) (male!reader | enemies to lovers)

Based on this request - You and Harry work together as bartenders and your relationship is hot and cold which infuriates you to no end. But you can't say you don't find him attractive, regardless of his cocky attitude.

The Italy Blurb (1.6k words) (boyfriend!harry)

reader prompt: some plotless smut featuring a little bit of jealous yn riding Harry's tiger & yacht sex.

Bad Morning (3.6k words) (professor!h x professor!yn)

You run late to an important meeting with your colleagues and Professor Styles decides to punish you.

Spiderman (4.2k words) (fratboy!harry | lhh!harry)

You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

The Ex (3.4k words) ex!harry

Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

Nympho (4.5k words) nympho!poly!harry

Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.

Harry bruises your cervix - blurb (450 words) husband!harry

A quick filthy, requested blurb. Nothing more and nothing less.

Next Door Neighbors (7.8k words) neighbor!harry

Part 2 (5k words)

You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

The Fleshlight Blurb (1.5k) subrry

Harry has to go on a business trip without Y/n so she gets him a special toy to use while he's away and she tells him to send her a video of him using it.

The Handyman (11k words)

When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.

Breeding Kink Blurb (587 words)

Requested - just straight up smut

Sex Tutor (10k words)

Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

#harry styles masterlist #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #firstpost #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #professor!harry #male!reader #mafia!harry #fratboy!harry #ghost!harry #nerd!harry #virgin!harry #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #best friend!harry #dark!harry #gurugirl

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Best Friend Haz and Reader are so cute!! Do they just stay friends or is there a relationship involved👀

Tastes So Sweet*

warnings: smut, oral f receiving(munchrry), lil bit of subrry, protected sex

pairing: best friend harry x reader

masterlist | harry styles masterlist

~

Closing his front door behind him, Harry follows YN into his home, the both of them taking their shoes off by the door before making their way further in. They don’t even make it 5 feet before they’re on each other, Harry pressing his lips to YN’s and her body to the wall adjacent the door. Pulling away, their chests are heaving as Harry looks down at her with so much adoration in his eyes before he speaks up.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Harry whispers against her lips, and she pulls away with a bashful smile before pressing her lips to his once more. This time, though, the kiss is much hungrier than the last, and Harry pulls her closer, running his hands down to her lower back, just beneath the hem of her shirt. Now, it’s him that pulls away from the heated kiss, a smug smile on his face as he looks down at her.

“Did that make you feel nice? Y’like when I compliment you?” he teases, gently taking her bottom lip between his teeth and earning him an annoyed whine from her. From the way she’s begun shifting on her feet he can tell that her thighs are pressed tightly together to provide herself with some relief to where she’s getting wet for him.

YN just playfully shoves his shoulder but he doesn’t budge, his tone becoming darker as his hands travel lower and lower. “I asked you a question, Petal. I need an answer or I’ll be taking care of myself tonight,” he warns, humming in satisfaction when she practically melts at his tone.

“Yes, it made me feel nice,” she murmurs, hooking her thumbs into his belt loops just to be gently pulled away seconds later.

“Well cmon then, I’ve got some more compliments,” he teases, and she chuckles at his lame joke as he begins to drag her down the hallway toward his bedroom. When they arrive he doesn’t even bother closing the door behind them before he’s helping her out of her clothes -stopping for a moment to admire how fucking pretty she looks in just a bra and panties- and ridding himself of his own.

He’s then helping her to the centre of the bed and on her back, climbing between her legs. He wraps his arms around her thighs for support. “How are you this gorgeous? A right angel, all for me,” he whispers, not wasting anymore time on words before he buries his face between her soft thighs. He immediately begins to lick and suck at her sodden folds, and the amount of pleasure so quickly scares YN just a bit, her hands flying to his hair and yanking, but not enough to hurt him.

“Just can’t get enough of you; taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against her, taking her swollen clit back into his mouth the moment he’s finished speaking. The both of them are drowning in pleasure, the sweetest sounds leaving her puffy lips. Each time she squirms above him he just pulls her even closer, burying his face so far into her that he can’t breathe.

He sucks and licks at her like a starved man, groaning against her, simply from her taste and the pleasure she’s receiving herself. She’s above him completely boneless as she lets him have his fill, and soon her legs are shaking around his head and her back arching as she nears the end. Words fail her as sobs of pure pleasure have begun to fall from her lips as she tries to warn him but can’t, her orgasm wracking her body almost unexpectedly.

She’s fallen silent as she rides it out against his face, the only sounds in the room being Harry’s groans and the filthy sounds of his tongue lapping up every bit of what she has to give him. He keeps his mouth on her until she’s completely limp save for the occasional aftershocks that make her legs twitch on either side of his head, and he’s sitting up with a shiny chin and a leaking cock.

His hands have now found her hips as he begins to gently run them all over her body, whispering sweet words to keep her grounded as she catches her breath. When she catches her breath, he sits back on his heels as she pulls herself into a sitting position, and he just watches closely as she moves closer to him before spitting into her palm and taking his aching cock into her hand.

She takes a moment to admire him, hard and weepy, just for her, and strokes him slowly a few times to test the waters before he begins to grow impatient.

“Please, let me have you,” he whimpers, bucking his hips into her fist with an impatient whine. He feels his stomach clench in pleasure when she simply runs her thumb over his weepy tip, his head falling back and tears building in his eyes from the teasing. “‘m gonna cum if you don’t stop, please,” he begs once again, choking on a moan when she bends down between his thick thighs and replaces her thumb with her tongue.

Running her tongue through the mess he’s made of himself, she hums in satisfaction when he tries to buck his hips toward her face but is stopped by her hands. She decides to indulge for a few more moments before she’s pulling off him with an audible pop, moving to the centre of the bed.

Harry can only watch her with a heaving chest as she spreads herself open for him, his cock twitching painfully from the teasing and anticipation. He could cry when she finally gives him permission, and he’s making quick work of grabbing the condom from behind him and sliding it on, a small whimper leaving his lips from the stimulation he’s provided himself.

He wastes no more time before climbing on top of her and lining himself up with her. He slides in as slowly as possible, and when he bottoms out his arms immediately shake before giving out and his head falls into the crevice between her face and shoulder, his body shuddering at the warmth and snugness of her. The weight on top of her has him nestled right against her g-spot, and when she lets out the sweetest moan he’s ever heard, it takes everything in him not to fill the condom right then, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself nearing his orgasm.

They just lie there connected in the most intimate way for a few moments until he can feel like he can move without blowing inside her, his hips rutting against hers as he begins to slowly fuck her. Their close proximity only aides in the progression of their orgasms, his pelvis brushing against her swollen clit, causing her to flutter around him from how sensitive she still is.

It only spurs him on, and he picks up the pace just a bit without changing the depth or angle in hopes it will get her there quicker. “Feel so good,” he murmurs against her neck, and beneath her sounds of pleasure he can hear the sound of their bodies connecting, he can feel her wetness against his pelvis as he brings the both of them closer.

“‘m gonna cum,” he hears her gasp right beside his ear, her arms wrapping around his upper back in an attempt to bring him closer to her.

“Please, please give it to me,” he whines against her. Moments later he feels her body go rigid and a long, drawn out moan leaves her lips as she finally cums around him, the feeling sending him over the edge as well. Harry feels his stomach clench and his balls draw up before all of his pent up release drains from his body, his warm cum flooding the condom. He can only sob against her damp skin and rut his hips against her as he works every last drop of cum from himself, pushing himself as deep as he can go as he twitches inside of her until he’s empty.

~

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles filth #harry related writings #smut #dbf harry styles #dbf harry #best friend h x reader #best friend harry #best friend h #bestie harry #bestierry #bestie h #bestie!h #best friend!harry #new fic

[jarofstyles]

Wildfire- Flame Finale

The final part 😭😭😭

I hope you enjoyed! I absolutely will do some blurbs if you guys want for them :) enjoy!

WC: 4k

Patreon

Flame Masterlist

——

“There y’are.”

Y/N squealed as she felt hands haul her backwards, melting into his broad chest as she was greeted with a smattering of kisses against her cheek. A squeaking noise left her lips as a tiny giggle erupted against her will, her messenger bag falling off of her shoulder, large hands settling against her soft stomach. The tip of his nose was cold but it gave her the shivers, nudging her warm skin. He must have been waiting outside the building for a bit for her class to end. He had said he would be waiting for her but she had been searching out his car- not his being.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Y/N huffed, trying to meld back into the grumpy version of her that had been left in bed earlier this morning. She committed to the bits she had, that was something she was dedicated to. “Rude. It’s freezing out here, are you crazy?”

The temperatures had started their unfortunate yearly drop a bit earlier this year, but Harry didn’t see much of a problem with it now that he had someone to snuggle with in the early mornings. When she hadn’t woken up yet and snored softly, wheezy noises came from her peaceful body and her body soaked in every bit of his ‘furnace like’ body heat she had complained about when the weather had been warmer. She would curl further into him these days, sticking her cold feet in between his legs and hiding herself under the covers and letting his head peek out to ‘watch for danger’ while she hid in his chest. He had never known how much the little things really did add up.

“Crazy for you, my love.” He cooed, meaning every word of it. He also knew it would get the little gag from her, pretending she hated his mushy, gushy words and how much of a complete and utter sap he was. He would pretend he believed the act. “C’mon, you love it.” he let her turn in his arms, his grin wide on his face. Y/N could see his flushed cheeks and pink nose from standing out in the cold instead of the warmth of his car to pick her up and she felt that little burst of fondness move through her tummy up to her chest. Leaning up, she graced him with a chaste peck to his lips. “I love you. Not your gross mushy stuff. And m’still annoyed with you.”

She wasn't. She was milking it and they both knew that, but as Harry usually did, he went along with her little faux tantrum.

“I had to leave for class this morning, dove.” His exhaled was soft, the warm breath against her lips making her nose crinkle before pulling back and folding her hand with his. “You’re the one who’s been telling me how important it is for me to go.”

“Since when did you listen to me?” She scoffed. “You could have blown it off and spent the morning with me. It was so cold. I was all alone when I woke up again.” Y/N pouted just a little bit and he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he tugged on their joined fingers to lead her towards his car. “Like the damn arctic. Your big, hairy, manly furnace body had taken all the heat. For what? For class you don’t even like?”

“Well, first of all, it’s quite literally your fault it’s freezing. You insist on the bloody fan being on all night long and leaving the window open a crack because you ‘fall asleep better cold and warmed by me’ so… you can’t blame me for that. However, the second thing? It’s not like I wanted to. I had to. I’ve been slacking off ever since you’ve moved in.” He joked, nudging her arm with his own. It was his own doing, really, and he knew it. He needed to be better about it but he often slacked off of classes because it was a lot more appealing to soak in the syrupy kisses and soft, dreamy whispers she could give him. Y/N freshly woken up - in the right way- was the softest he could get her without being the one to fuck it out of her.

They were quite a way into their relationship now, months and months under their belts when they’d finally decided to move into Harry’s place together. His was the choice because it had far more space and their landlord would allow pets. Something Y/N wanted desperately when they graduated and had more time to dedicate to one. His space had truly become theirs over the last few months. It had been littered with her things for ages now but he had never seen so many hair ties and bobby pins in his life. Never knew how many pairs of socks two people went through in a wash, never knew how much bathroom space she could take up. Thank god he had two bathrooms. She had effectively booted him from the master.

Harry didn't mind though. If it meant having her there, he was happy. He didn’t need personal space when it came to Y/N. She was his other half. His soul mate in every sort of way.

Living together officially had taught him a lot of little things about her. She had different shampoos and conditioners for different ‘phases’ of hair washes. She bought razors in bulk, the pink and blue ones, until Harry had convinced her to go for a more sustainable one with refillable cartridges. She had an addiction to the sugar scrubs of different scents or ‘flavors’ as she insisted they call them. She hated wet bath mats and always changed it because stepping on a wet mat ruined her night. She sometimes neglected to properly wash the toothpaste out of the sink when she was in a rush but she got upset about it once so he decided to clean it whenever he noticed. The little things mattered quite a bit to him, he was finding out more and more.

“Ugh.” Y/N grunted. “We’re almost done. You can take some participation points. Especially when I was planning on doing some dirty shit this morning and you ruined all my plans.” her pout was now morphing into a teeny smirk, knowing that would get him. Y/N had harped on the importance of going to class but now that they lived together, it felt a lot different. Waking up without harry felt astonishingly sad, as dramatic as that was. She liked to be a bit indulgent in her mornings now, rarely waking before him but hoping for the opportunity to see his floppy hair and the stubble that grew overnight to give him a bit of that rugged look. His sleepy eyes when he woke up and his big cat like stretch that he did once he was awake enough to feel the stiffness in his joints. Those things had her falling deeper in love with him.

She had been unsure how sex would be after they confessed their love, but if anything? It had gotten even better. Miles better. The full trust, the lack of secret feelings and fully letting them bloom and plant more seeds of love in every single time they joined that way, it had improved their connection. Sex with feelings was so much better than anything else they'd experienced. Plus, there was no fear in asking to try something out. Kinks, experiments, anything. Sex had a new meaning between the both of them.

Harry was quiet for a moment which she knew was him internally cursing.

“Well you didn’t tell me that.” He replied, a bit strained. “You just told me not to leave and you’d be cold in that sad, sweet little morning voice and broke my heart a little. I didn’t know you were planning on being a dirty little minx.”

“I’m always planning on being a dirty little minx, Harry. Keep up.”

Y/N still kept him on his toes. She kept him close, but popped him on the ass to keep things exciting. Harry ate every bit of it up. Every sassy remark, every eye roll, every sweet secret snuggle under the covers. He had fallen in love with her when she gave him the most shit, when she poked fun of him and smacked his ass when he walked past, when she would take the piss out of him for the matching mugs he bought at the shops but used hers every day. Y/N’s personality had many layers and he loved each and every one as she uncovered them to him. She wasn’t just his lover- she was his best friend.

“I’m trying, baby. I’m always gonna try.”

—--

“It was bad enough when you two were macking on each other when you were drunk. Seeing it sober is going to make me need to bleach my eyes.” Niall groaned, pressing the pint to his face as if to mask him from their chaste pecks.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the man, turning back to Harry and grabbing his cheeks in her hands before planting a real kiss on his mouth. It was out of spite, yes, but she would never say no to an opportunity to kiss Harry. The man took it in stride, placing his own bottle down and hooking a hand around the back of her neck with a pleased yet surprised hum as he leaned down to keep up with her. It was when tongue was visible and Harry let out a groan that Niall began to make his protess loud.

“Oi! Enough! Enough! Is this a softcore porno? Give it a rest!” He hissed, making the rest of the table chuckle.

“You kind of asked for it, Ni. They were being cute before and you had to make a snide comment. You know how Y/N is.” Sarah laughed, leaning into Mitch with a shake of the head.

Y/N pulled away from Harry with an audible pop, looking over to the man. “If you kept your mouth shut and let me say hello to my boyfriend in peace instead of groaning and moaning like a little bitch like you do every time, perhaps I wouldn’t have to do it.” She shrugged. Pulling her sweater sleeve over her thumb, she turned back to Harry and wiped a bit of lip gloss from the corners of his lips. As pretty as he looked with glossy lips, the shade she was wearing didn't suit his skintone today. His olive undertones had said thanks, but no thanks.

“I never would have thought that Y/N would turn into a mushy and soft girl for anyone. She hated men before Harry.” Adam admitted, which was honestly the thoughts of a lot of the group. Y/N hadn’t been a very warm and fuzzy person but with Harry, she allowed herself to be visibly sweet and vulnerable in a way that made them all genuinely happy for them. Harry had looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars even before they got together, the both of them oblivious to those feelings, but she had been the shocker.

“Uh, don’t get it messed up. I still hate them. Not Harry, like every basic girl will say, but he knows and will be paying for his crimes. He knows.” she shrugged, lifting his arm and snuggling into his warmth. Her own drink was half finished but she preferred to cuddle up with him. He had a long three days of classes and work after so she hadn’t gotten much time with him. She wasn’t going to skimp on giving him a kiss because she knew Niall would groan and complain.

Harry was smart, simply nodding and raising the drink Y/N had ordered for him. He didn’t mind letting Y/N take the lead for this sort of thing. She didn’t need him defending their honor when she did it so easily and very, very well.

“I know when to keep my mouth shut, mate. You should give it a try.” He snickered at Niall who rolled his eyes.

“You are whipped. The mighty have fallen. You’re a househusband as it is, I can’t believe it. Like a little puppy, you follow her around. If it wasn’t cute, I’d be having an intervention.” Niall fake gagged again. His banter with Y/N about their relationship was a frequent thing at this point and they were all used to it, their heads pin-ponging back and forth as they spoke.

“I can not wait until you fall in love, Niall. I will take every single opportunity to remind you of these words right here.” Harry sighed dreamily. “I am going to tell your lover exactly what you said and they will probably take the piss right along with me. I hope you get t’fall in love like I have. It’s my wish for all my mates.”

“I will never be as sappy as you, H. Never. Mark my words right here and now. Y/N has some sort of spell over you and I applaud her for that, but no one is going to turn me into that pile of goo you turn into whenever she calls you ‘baby.” The man snickered but everyone else around them smirked knowingly. Niall put up a good front, but when it came down to it.. They would all see.

“Trust me, I am. It’s marked and set. I will come back to this conversation one day and you will eat those words.”

The night continued as usual, but Y/N felt more needy than usual. Her affection was more blatant, both to annoy Niall and make him slightly uncomfortable being one of the only single ones in the group now, but also having missed Harry quite a bit. Her cheek rested against the soft fabric of his jumper, his shoulder broad and a good thing to relax on. Her hand held his firmly as she stayed quiet, observing him interact with their friends. Seeing him simply exist as a human was so fascinating to her. Y/N wasn’t always a major talker and Harry didn’t mind. He kept his routine of checking in, making sure she was okay and pressing kisses to the crown of her head in between lulls of conversation. Even distracted, he was attentive to her emotions.

“Y’good?” he whispered against her hair. “I want to go home in a few minutes. The shift kicked my ass and I need some quiet. That's okay with you?” Harry would stay longer if she wanted but he could tell she wanted to go home. They’d been more and more busy lately so meeting up wasn’t as frequent as their friends would like, so both of them had said they needed to make more of an effort. It was easy for them both to spend all of their free time with each other and forget about other socializing. They were truly best friends, so time together at home was their first choice most of the time. Harry had always been more social than her though, so she put thought into that when they had first started dating for real and made sure to plan meetings with friends when she could. She didn’t want them to resent them together because they were now dating and attached at the hip.

It had worked quite well. Everyone had gotten busier though, so it was more understandable now. Y/N was selfish with Harry and he with her, though. They’d had enough socializing for a while now that they’d been in a bar for a hair too long. Y/N was itching to get home to their quiet and peaceful home they’d been curating together and spend time together alone. Navigating the time spent between school, work and friends hadn’t been easy, no, but it had 1000% worth it. Harry was worth every single effort she could make.

Harry's deep voice broke her out of her thoughts, his hand slipping out from behind her to hold her own, standing up to help her up. “Let’s get out of here and have some wine at home, hm?”

—-

“Isn’t it crazy?” Y/N asked softly as they curled up naked on the couch yet again. His fingers twirled damp strands of hair as he turned to look at her eyes, slightly hooded as they recovered from a lazy, dirty fuck. One of his absolute favorites. Freshly shower Y/N coming into the living room where he had been on his laptop, dropping her towel and standing there with an arched eyebrow. She was his for the taking, so naturally he snapped the top of the laptop closed and lifted his hips up to dispose of his sweats.

“What, my love?” He asked, still a bit groggy from the post orgasm haze. She had done that thing with her hips and he had cum quite hard. In fact, he was still inside of her, keeping all his cum snug and safe. They’d need to get up in a few moments, but he was relishing in keeping himself warm inside of her. That being said- he hadn’t full been paying attention to what she said.

“Just said that we were two idiots and we almost lost each other because we had communication issues. Well…” she paused. “I did. I got scared. For a bit I thought you were too good for me. Sometimes I still think that. But I was so scared of the possibility, so against being hopeful that I was dumb on purpose. Waiting to be hurt when I didn’t have t’be.” her cheek was stuck against his slightly sticky chest, fingers brushing through the thin dusting of chest hair between his pecs. He had started to leave it alone once she mentioned how sexy she found it.

“I do think it’s crazy. But I was the same way. At least we were idiots together, yeah?” His laugh vibrated against her cheek. “We had to confront it sometime. We’ve gotten loads better at talking since then, too. You n’me, a dream team. No more hiding stuff, unless it’s the times you go about and drink the last of the orange juice and try and gaslight me to say I did it.” He snorted, making Y/N groan.

“One time. That was one time, and I genuinely forgot because I was hammered.” Y/N defended. “We have gotten better though. I only threaten to break up with you twice a day, probably.” It was an ongoing joke that neither of them were bothered by. Y/N threatened him with it for sneezing one too many times in a row. They both knew they were never going to break up.

“Mhm… Can threaten it as much as you want, but we both know you’re gonna be my wife.” his finger gently brushed the bridge of her nose. “Soon m’gonna lock you down. Ring so heavy you’re cemented to the floor, all of that.” The discussion of marriage had already been had. Harry wanted to wait until they were settled in jobs, at least him, wanted to find a place they wanted to be. Probably close to his family since she had been welcomed into it so easily and was in cahoots with his sister. It was brutal, his two biggest protectors and bullies wrapped into one.

“So what is the point of this one?” Her hand raised in the air, the gold and blue gem sparkling against her skin.

“That’s just the promise, my love. The real ring for the real question will be much bigger.” He smiled, bringing the hand to his mouth and pressing a smooth kiss to her ring finger. The promise ring had been given just a month ago, promising her that he was devoted to her. To their future. They were finishing school and he wanted them to finish and for him to be able to make more to save up for the ring she deserved. The one on her hand hadn’t been cheap, no, but he had caught her looking on etsy at it multiple times before closing the browser. He had surprised her after a nice dinner and a drive down to the boardwalk to let her know just how devoted he was to her.

“I mean.. Don’t go too crazy, H. I need to be able to use my hands with it on every day.” Y/N warned. Harry loved to spoil the shit out of her. It always had made her a mix of giddy and uncomfortable. Happy to be thought of, that he cared that much and loved her enough to want to take care of her and get her things, but unable even still to fully let go of the slight guilt of him spending money on her. The one soothing factor was how happy he got to do it. To give her things and see her reaction, his wide smile when she gasped or thanked him over and over again. It seemed neither of them were truly ever disappointed, even when she teased him about the gifts.

“Sorry. I’m gonna go crazy. As big as I can go while being practical. I need a warning signal for all around that you’re mine, taken, and loved. People already try t’mug me off and flirt with you as it is. They’ve got t’get a clue.” he was partially kidding. “But really, you deserve it. Deserve an expensive, pretty ring. Gorgeous ring for my gorgeous girl. I’m plotting and scheming behind the scenes, my darling. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before closing her eyes. His fingers were gently tugging at her hair as he played with it, another few kisses pressed to her hand before he placed their joined palms back on his chest. “Dunno why you’re laughing, baby. I’ve told you many times that m’gonna spend my whole life making sure that flame in your heart keeps getting bigger and hotter. Want my fiery girl to feel loved and confident every damn day of her life. So its not a joke, it’s a promise. You’re going to get the nice ring and whatever sort of wedding you want one day. We’re gonna spend a few weeks traveling across Europe for our honeymoon because that’s what you want t’do, and you’re going to be the first thing I see when I wake up every morning. Sounds like the perfect trade off.”

Harry knew it was a privilege to love her. He had always felt lucky that she had decided he was cool and funny enough to be her friend and then had managed to become her best friend. Now he was her lover, her confidant, her one day husband. He hadn’t known how he managed to get this lucky but he would never take it for granted.

The phrase of if he wanted to, he would, often hung over her head because it was true. Harry and this relationship had proved that to her time and time again. He was never too tired, never annoyed to do things for her. He thought of things on his own, he surprised her, he respected her time and space. Y/N didn’t need to ask for much because they were usually on the same page.

“I love you.” She whispered, lifting her head up enough to kiss his jaw. “Love you more than anything. Even if you’re a sappy, cheesy little thing. I’m really lucky to be loved by a man like you, H.”

“There’s no one else I want to love, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #flame #flamerry #best friend!harry #best friend harry styles #best friendrry #best friend Harry #best friends to lovers #harry styles friends to lovers #Harry smut #Harry fluff #Harry angst #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles angst #Harry styles au #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfictions

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Harry Styles has been your bestfriend since you met him right before One Direction started their break and he started working on his solo career. Over the years the two have been there for each other through all the good and all the bad, he’s been there ready with a pint of ice cream and a hug whenever someone broke your heart just like you’ve been there cheering him on during all his accomplishments throughout his career. But somewhere along the way Harry’s feelings for you changed and now he has to navigate trying to figure out if telling you how he feels is worth the risk of losing you.

Story Type: Friends to lovers

Status: Ongoing

Tag List: Open

Instagrams: Coming Soon✨

Conversations: Here

Everything Else: Here

*This is a texting story but you’ll find everything in the correct order below*

Part 1: That’s Not True

Part 2: Gossip

Part 3: Irish Goodbye

#harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles fic #harry styles au #Harry styles social media au #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles imagine #Harry styles #solo Harry styles #my little lanky baby #one direction fanfiction #best friend!harry #boyfriend!harry #harry styles series

[allthelovehes]

A game of UNO*

Summary: Harry and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are made up by Harry himself.

Pairing: bestfriend!harry x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.

A/N:  It's been soooo long since I last properly wrote something. So I'm so excited to have a brand new one-shot for y'all. Please let me know what you think!! Enjoy! <3

Masterlist

Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Harry. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they like to drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.

Nearly every weekend they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Harry perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.  

“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Harry simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.

“Haven’' we seen tha' movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Harry is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Harry insisted she needed to see it.

“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Harry’s strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His musky scent immediately relaxing her. 

Halfway through the movie, Harry gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Harry is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the couch making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to your board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.

“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand. 

“I am done watching tha' movie, again. Wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there. 

“Ah! There i’ is.” Harry chuckles. He turns around holding her pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor. 

“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do wanna play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Harry, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.

“See, you go' tha' wrong love.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twis'.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Harry. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.

“How abou’ we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips. 

“What do you mean, Harry?” She whispers.

“I thin’ you know exactly wha’ I mean, dear.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s jus' the two of us, we shouldn’' make too many additions. How abou' every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the mos' recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.

“I don’t know, Harry.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Harry on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along. 

“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.

“Then we’ll stop bein’ friends.” Harry chuckles, lust covering his eyes.

“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, Harry.” 

“Wha' if afterwards, you don’' wan’ be friends and you want’ be more than tha’.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.

“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.

“Shu' up and play your firs' card.”

Harry flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 laying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Harry’s lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable. 

She takes a big chug from her glass. Harry slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly. 

“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you ou' of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Harry chuckle at her nerves. 

She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one. 

“Hold on, this ain’' fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Harry states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Harry refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today.

“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.

“I did no' force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands. 

“Fuck.” Harry laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together. 

Harry looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he takes out a yellow 5.

Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Harry and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.

Both of them play a couple of cards before Harry has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7. 

“Wouldn’' i' have been fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching. 

“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.

“Don’' be. It’s jus' me.” Harry reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moved in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit. 

Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Harry who still has his hand on her ankle. 

“Isn’' tha' fortunate?” Harry teases. 

“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table. 

Harry has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Harry too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 13 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.

He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.

“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!” 

“Nah, ah love. Haven’' you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Harry smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.

“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Harry already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kinda sad that Harry isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.

Harry takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display with his tattoos on there like a piece of art. Harry had always been hot. But he started working out with a personal trainer roughly two years ago and he got so muscular after that. 

“Wha' are you doing?” Harry asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso. 

“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Harry to groan. He wagged a disapproving finger. “What?” She asks him.

“Should’ve jus' taken off your shirt.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile. 

“Hmnf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Harry notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.

“Y’ have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, don'' you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.

Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Harry’s face that’s even wider than her own. 

His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.

She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Cute undies.” Harry coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum. 

She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.

The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Harry’s face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming. 

The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!

“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Harry on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.

Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Harry notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.

“You really are the pretties' thing I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed. 

After Y/N plays her second to last card, Harry is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties. 

“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Harry chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round. 

She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table. 

“Since I won las' round, you may star' this round." 

She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks. 

“Oh shi’.” Harry says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, love. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.

“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Harry gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.

He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.

She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.

Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost. 

Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Harry draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him. 

He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5. 

She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Harry looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.

“Oh my god, Harry. What are the odds.” She chuckles. 

“Wha’d you mean?” 

She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years. 

“Well, shi’. Y’ win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Harry’s cock started hardening beneath him. 

She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.

Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes. 

Harry sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now theres no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.

“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere. 

“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Harry’s side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member. 

“Eyes up ‘ere, love.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits. 

“Sorry.” She whispers before Harry holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other. 

After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.

“Harry? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands. 

“Hmn, I don’ know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is tha’ I want you. So, fucking, bad.”

Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago. 

Y/N lets go of Harry’s hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from Harry’s lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his tummy, avoiding contact with his aching cock. 

Their lips finally connect. Thirteen long years are coming together in this sweet and lustfull kiss. Harry’s right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for. 

His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth. 

She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.

Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Harry meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’. 

Harry’s hand roam down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her thoat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.

Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Harry’s hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.

“How abou' we take this to the bedroom, love?” He whispers.

Taglist: @justmystyles Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

#Harry Styles #Harry #Styles #Smut #Fanfic #One shot #Strip #poker #strip poker #uno #strip uno #imagine #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry #bestfriend!harry #tension

[freedomfireflies]

Love Me*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Teach Me*

You and your best friend Harry have a few things to figure out.

So, why not figure them out while you're riding his face?

Word Count: 8.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!*

“Watermelon.”

Instantly, you go deathly still, muscles straining as the word echoes around the walls of your mind. Repeating itself over, and over, and over.

You attempt to sit up, but he doesn’t let you. He keeps his arms around you like a vice, caging you against his chest as his heart races beneath your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, a certain ringing in your ears that won’t quiet. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Somehow, his touch constricts even tighter, snaking around your ribcage as if to suffice as his reply.

“Harry?” you ask a bit louder, and you feel him stiffen at the sudden volume. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He’s quiet. Far too quiet as his chin meets the crown of your head. 

“Harry,” you stress for a third time. “What happened? What is it? If you’re gonna use your safe word, you have to tell me—”

“Nothing,” he breathes, fingers digging into the skin on your side. Bracing himself from the truth. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Never mind?” you nearly gasp as he finally lets go, allowing you to scramble upright. “Harry…you can’t say that and then never mind—”

“I didn’t mean to say it,” he mumbles, meeting your eye for only a moment before his lashes flutter and he looks off into the bedroom. “I just…I forgot. It’s nothing. Everything’s fine, okay? Just forget it.”

He pushes himself up as you climb off the bed, but your attention never leaves him. Studying his expression closely to find the real answer. 

“Harry…” you venture cautiously, and again, you catch the way he hesitates. “If I did something—”

“No.” His answer is instantaneous, head shaking once before he looks up. “No. I told you, it’s fine. Really—”

“It can’t be fine if you said it—”

“Well, I didn’t mean to—”

“How can you not have meant to? What were you trying to say? Nothing else really sounds like watermelon—”

“Just…forget it, okay?” he sighs as he stands up and reaches for his boxers. “What’s the opposite of watermelon? I’ll say that.”

“Harry,” you huff for the hundredth time. “You…look, if there’s something we need to talk about—”

“There’s not.” The conviction in his voice is final as he proceeds to slip his shirt back on. 

You’re slow to do the same, shimmying back into your clothes while also trying to maintain his focus. “We agreed that this only worked if we talked to each other. If we trusted each other—”

“This has nothing to do with trust, Bee,” he insists as he glances over at you. “I told you, it’s fine—”

“It’s not fine.” You nearly want to whine at his stubbornness. You’ve known him long enough to understand his little tricks. His tells. The way he avoids confrontation.

The way he avoids how he really feels.

“It is,” he says again, now brushing past you toward the door. “Okay? So…please. Just forget it.”

“I can’t forget it,” you argue as you follow him to the kitchen. “It’s a safe word for a reason. It means that you can say it and feel safe. That you can tell me what’s wrong, and what you’re thinking—”

“I don’t—” he begins before his eyes squeeze together and his jaw clamps shut. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Okay? I just…I wanna drop it. So let’s drop it.”

You watch as he braces himself against the kitchen sink, hands gripping onto the tub as he leans back and aims his glare at the floor.

And it hurts. It hurts to go from happily content in his arms to anxiously dejected a few feet away.

It hurts to know that there’s clearly something wrong that he refuses to share. Hurts to know you can’t help. Even after everything.

You taught him how to touch you.

But not how to talk to you.

You straighten up. “Fine,” you agree. “Fine, we’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

The small space falls quiet as you do your best to ignore the ever-present ringing in your ears.

Dropping it doesn’t fix it.

But you don’t know what else to do.

“I think…I think I’m gonna go,” you whisper, already taking a step back.

His head lifts, lips parting as he watches you move away from him. “Oh…okay.”

Despite it all, you wish he’d ask you to stay.

After retrieving your things from his room, you head for the door to his apartment, your heart dragging behind you on the floor.

He doesn’t move from his spot. He doesn’t chase after you or try to explain. He watches you walk away from him as if he always expected you to.

You pause to glance over your shoulder and find him. To offer him one last chance. “Harry?”

“…yeah?”

You take a deep breath. “Do you regret it now?”

You half expected his answer to come as quickly as the others.

But this one doesn’t.

This one seems to catch in his throat as his expression falls. “…I don’t know.”

And that tells you everything.

You don’t hear from Harry for three days.

He doesn’t text you. You don’t text him.

He doesn’t call you. You don’t call him.

You’re not trying to be petty. You’re not even trying to punish him, you’re just…

Confused.

You and Harry don’t fight. Not once in the fifteen years that you’ve known each other.

Sometimes you’ll get into spats. Or heated arguments. But you don’t ice each other out. You don’t resort to games and the silent treatment.

If that’s even what this is.

You knew opening this door in your friendship would make it impossible to close.

And now, it’s letting in a draft.

And after everything you felt with him, after everything you realized…

Having him so far away, so distant…makes you feel empty.

Incomplete.

As if there’s a missing piece to your puzzle.

You allow yourself to wonder if he’s simply learned all that he’s needed to learn from you. If he’s ready to be a good partner for Tina, and ready to resume just a platonic, non-sexual friendship with you.

Which you’d be more than okay with.

Really.

You would.

You’d have to be.

Because you don’t want to know what happens…if you wouldn’t.

So, you shove all thoughts of Harry and his lessons away. You reject each memory of his hands, and his lips, and his body, and his cock.

And you continue on with your life. You revert back to the way it was before, when it was just you and your vibrator.

But nothing is ever that simple, and you should have anticipated that even before there was a frantic knock on your door.

Confused, you toss your throw blanket aside and stand from the couch.

And when you swing the door open, you find Harry. Standing in your hallway. Slightly out of breath and wearing a curious expression on his face.

Kind of like the day he asked to eat you out.

The rush of deja vu almost overwhelms you as you blink at him. “…uh, hi?”

“Hi.” His greeting is as rushed as his gasp for air, as if he ran all the way up the five flights of stairs. 

“What…are you doing here?” you ask hesitantly, letting your eyes trail down his body, cautiously looking for an explanation.

There’s a pause as he seems to study you back before he straightens up and takes a step forward.

“I’m finishing the list,” he exhales before seizing your face between his hands and kissing you.

You don’t have time to grasp onto the concept of his lips as he walks you backward toward the wall, kicking the door shut on his way in.

And he takes. Exactly the way he had before. He takes and he savors, and he owns. He says everything with this one kiss. Everything you know he can never say aloud.

Everything.

You don’t fight him on it. You probably should. Should probably stop him and ask him what he’s doing. Ask him what happened, what changed.

But maybe you don’t wanna know what’s changed. Maybe you’re just grateful it did.

So, you kiss him back. You kiss him, and you whisper his name, and you let your hands scratch down the back of his neck.

And you revel in the way he groans. In the way he drags his teeth down your throat to freshen up the already fading marks from the time before.

Then, his fingers trail down your arm to latch onto your wrist. And he tugs. Tugs you away from the wall he had pressed against so he can drag you toward your room.

“What are you doing?” you murmur as you scramble after him, an excited shiver traveling down your spine.

“You’re gonna sit on my face,” he declares, practically slinging you toward the bed. “Gonna sit on my fucking face and let me taste you.”

Your ass meets the mattress as he towers above. And despite how enthralled the idea has you…you pause. “Harry…I don’t know if that’s—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he interrupts, leaning down to press his palms to the bed, caging you between his arms. “I don’t wanna talk, I don’t want to overthink…I just want you to sit on my face.”

Your lashes flutter. “Harry—”

“No,” he repeats. He offers a single shake of his head. “No. You said this is about trust, right?”

“Right, but—”

“So trust me,” he whispers, dipping closer until the tip of his nose brushes against yours. “Trust me when I say it’s fine. Trust me…when I say the only thing I want…is to have you ride my tongue.”

And right now as you stare at him, and feel him, and inhale him…you have no other choice but to trust him, too.

“Okay,” you breath, already desperate to have him touch you. Hold you. Remind you why it felt so right in the first place.

“Okay?” he checks, the corner of his mouth curling up in a pleased smile.

You nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

And he’s overcome with exhilaration as he grabs onto the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his.

It’s only been two minutes—tops. But you’d missed his kisses. Missed having his lips on yours. Missed the way he completely owned you. 

Missed the way he made you his.

He guides you onto your back, laying you against the mattress comfortably while allowing him the room to crawl on top of you.

And his frantic touches follow you all the way down, his nimble fingers dancing up your shirt until they can find your bare chest.

You gasp into his bottom lip as he takes you into his palm, effortlessly and expertly caressing you until you’re arching into his touch. 

He groans when he feels you. Takes pleasure in having you. Getting to hold you the way he is now. Explore you.

His knee makes a home against your cunt, pressing into you subtly, as if to jumpstart the process. And you squirm against it, lungs aching for air as you tangle your hands in his curls.

And for a moment, you both simply enjoy. Enjoy this rather innocent connection. This innocent sensation of your bodies finding a rhythm together. This harmonious link between your body and his.

Then, he scoops his arm beneath your hips and rolls you both over.

Your knees meet the bed, one on each side of his waist as you brace yourself against his chest.

He grins lazily but he’s far too focused on the task at hand. So, he curls his fingers around your sleep shorts and begins to pull them down. 

There’s a bit of awkward shifting and rearranging that follows as you help him toss them aside.

But once they’re off, his palms wrap around the backs of your thighs, and he brings you closer.

You’ve ridden a face before. Have quite enjoyed it, in fact.

But Harry…Harry isn’t just someone. Harry is…Harry.

And riding Harry’s face is a lot different than riding his thigh.

But he doesn’t give you a moment to think about that. And you’re almost positive he knows you are.

Because he shoots you this look of warning before tugging you closer to him, forcing your knees to scuffle a bit closer until you’re exactly where he wants you.

You take hold of the headboard to brace yourself, already tingling from where his fingertips are pressing into your skin.

And you can feel him breathing against you. Soft, chaste kisses being trailed along your inner thigh as he travels his way up. 

He might be new at this, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. At least when it comes to you, and you could almost smile at his attention to detail.

“Relax for me, Bee,” he instructs, nose bumping your clit as your breath hitches. “Come on, it’s all right. Just relax and let me taste you.”

You try to do as instructed, allowing yourself to sink down a bit closer. 

But the moment he drags his tongue through your arousal, you suck in a sharp breath and straighten up.

“Bee,” he growls, hands already pulling you back down. A bit harder than he had before.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, lids growing heavy as the lust-induced haze begins to wash over you. “M’sorry, just don’t…don’t wanna hurt you—”

“And what did I fucking say about that?” he nearly snaps. “Hurt me. Fucking suffocate me, if you have to. Sit on my goddamn face until I can’t breathe.”

“Harry,” you whisper, eyes screwing shut as he repeats his previous action. “I don’t…I can’t—”

The sharp smack to your ass makes your head drop back. It’s loud, and it’s firm, and it stings more than his previous spanking.

But it’s fucking amazing.

“I’m not gonna tell you again,” he warns. “You’re gonna ride my fucking tongue until I’ve had enough. Is that understood?”

You feel yourself clench around nothing from the dominant tone of voice. Nails already scratching down the wood of your headboard as you try to find the strength to speak.

There’s another zealous slap to your skin, his palm painting your body red with salacious intentions. “Answer me, baby girl.”

“Yes,” you whine. “Yes, I understand.”

“That’s my girl,” he hums, lips ghosting your cunt as he speaks. “You do what I say. Go where I tell you to go. Let me put you exactly where I fucking want you.”

And to prove this point, he tugs on your hips until your pussy meets his mouth.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

It’s fucking magic the way he treats you. The way he tastes you. The way he covers his tongue in your need for him. 

He sucks and he swallows, and he pulls you so far down onto him that you’re surprised you don’t disappear into him.

But it’s…

Everything.

The only concept you truly understand in this moment. Him and his mouth and this endless desire to take. To have.

And you let him. Let him have you. Let him roll you over his tongue as he laps at you like he’s an animal.

“Harry,” you breathe for a second time, legs shaking from beside his head. “Fuck…please—”

Another spank lands firmly against your outer thigh. You can’t tell if this is to please you or to punish you, but either way…you enjoy it.

You swallow another curse as you surrender to his instructions, allowing yourself to be guided even further down.

“That’s it,” he says before nipping at your clit with his teeth. “Knew you liked it. Knew you needed me to take care of you, didn’t you?”

Your whimper comes from deep in the back of your throat as you let one hand travel down to his hair.

And when you scratch at his scalp with bliss, he smiles.

“Oh, you did,” he answers for you. “Needed someone to make it better. Needed someone to do it right.”

And those stories you used to tell him about Eric come rushing back as you’re reminded of all the ways he’d never been able to get you off.

And the way Harry has done nothing but get you off since the moment you started.

 “Don’t you?” he pushes, clearly wanting to hear your confirmation, and you’re not surprised he has a praise kink. “Fucking needed me—”

“Yes,” you tell him. “Yes, always needed you—”

Another slap. “That’s right. Know you do. Know you need someone to make you feel so fucking good. Make you come the way you deserve. Make you see fucking stars—”

You cry out something resembling his name as his fingers begin to scrape down your legs. Forcing you impossibly closer. Forcing you to give him everything.

And he’s relentless. You truly cannot fathom anything besides the feel of his lips on your pussy or the way he holds you over his face or even the way he speaks to you. The low vibrations dancing right up the back of your spine.

Your mind is blank. Filled with nothing but images and feelings and ideas. Of the pleasure barreling toward you at an alarming rate. At the way he’s been working on you for only a few minutes but already you’re at the mercy of his objective. 

“Please, please, please.” The word drips from your mouth like falling rain. Over, and over, and over. You can’t do anything else but beg. Beg him to keep going, beg him to go harder, beg him to never stop.

“So fucking good,” he murmurs, tongue driving inside before curling. Beckoning your release closer. “Aren’t you, baby girl? So fucking good for me—”

You nod, lip between your teeth as you chew. 

“Make me so happy,” he says, nails clawing at the base of your spine. “Don’t you? Make Daddy so proud—”

“Shit—” Your forehead finds the headboard as you tug on his curls. It’s almost too much. Yet somehow not enough. “Harry—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, guiding you up as your chest just about caves in. “No. Try again.”

“Har—”

“Try again.”

Your eyes roll, half from the pleasure but mostly from the pain of his annoyance before you oblige. “Daddy…please.”

He doesn’t answer with words, instead forcing you back down to continue his ministrations. 

He knows you’re close. You know he knows. And his desire to get you there is power in itself. 

Because even after everything, even after fighting, even after years of friendship and dad jokes…he wants to take care of you.

Wants to give you exactly what you deserve.

So…he does.

The sound of his name on your tongue is dissolute and depraved. Needy and pathetic and filled with the kind of yearning you yourself don’t even understand.

But you welcome the relief with open arms. Welcome the way he holds onto you as he swallows the rush that follows.

And he fucking groans. In a similarly desperate way that nearly doubles the length of your orgasm. 

He’s never sounded so content. So satisfied and pleased. And you do feel good. Feel so good to have made him so proud. To have been the reason for this eager agreeance. 

But then…he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop, even after you’ve attempted to squirm up and away from his continued attempts. Even after you’ve whined, “Harry,” and scratched a little harder on his scalp.

He keeps going.

“Har,” you sigh, already too sensitive to form a cohesive thought. “Har…s’okay…I came—”

“I know,” he says simply, palms pressing into your side to keep you exactly where you are. “And you’re gonna come again.”

“Harry,” you gasp, almost as if shocked by the very idea. “Har, I…s’too—”

“What?” His tongue flattens against your cunt before dragging up toward your clit. “Overstimulation was on your list, right?”

Your lashes flutter rapidly as you rest one hand back on the headboard. “I’m…yes…yeah—"

“Then you’re gonna come for me again,” he informs you. “And again. And again, until I’ve decided you’re done.”

And you want to argue. Wanted to tell him that you’re exhausted but you can already feel the next one on its way.

Because he’s speaking to you in that familiarly aggressive way that makes your heart pound. That makes your skin erupt into goosebumps and your brain turn to mush.

God, his voice. His voice alone could do damage. Could tip you over the edge a hundred times. He could be whispering the fucking alphabet and you’d be putty in his hands.

And maybe it shouldn’t be so easy to turn you so submissive, but you’ll happily do as he asks as long as he keeps asking you in that voice.

As long as he keeps telling you that your pleasure is his. That you…are his.

Nobody else exists outside of this room. Not Eric. Not Tina. Not any future lovers or partners.

Not even any consequences.

Right now, in this room…it’s just you.

The second one doesn’t hit as hard as the first, but it still knocks you off-kilter, forcing you to shake within his hold.

But he keeps you steady. In more ways than one. He makes sure you don’t have the room or space to crawl off him, or even think about takingyour pussy away from his greedy search.

“Harry,” you mewl, pulling so hard on his curls that it has to hurt. “Please…please—”

You aren’t sure if you’re asking him to stop or let you come again, but either way, he pursues the third one. 

And this time…he adds his hand.

After repositioning you just so, he easily slips two fingers inside, meeting your g-spot almost instantly. 

You nearly go blind from how good it feels, how hard it hits you. From how happy you are to find relief in his arms.

The third is kinder to you. Shorter but much more intense. Like a burst of pure adrenaline and euphoria. 

It almost hurts when you finally begin to unwind, and his movements start to slow. He must be able to tell you don’t have too much left to offer and you appreciate the way he eases out of you with great care.

He helps shuffle you back until you can collapse onto the bed beside him. But he doesn’t let you go too far, one arm wrapping around your shoulders to help cement you into his side.

Your leg tangles between the two of his while your face buries into his neck. You’re spent. Physically and emotionally. But he allows you a moment to rest, fingers stroking your skin gently to help bring you back to him.

“You okay?” he murmurs, turning his head so his lips can meet your forehead. “S’it too much?”

“No,” you breathe, eyes falling closed as you inhale the comforting scent of his cologne. “No, it was good. A little confusing…but good.”

And you know he knows what you mean.

But still, he chooses not to respond. Chooses not to offer any sort of insight into what happened that day in his room.

Instead, his arm pulls you closer. “Well…did we cover everything? Is there anything left to check off?”

Your head rolls back so you can see him, the idea already taking root in your mind. “I can think of one more thing…if you’re up for it.”

His eyebrow raises.

You smile. “Pegging.”

He leans back, eyes growing wide. “Really?”

“Yeah. But…only if you were actually serious about that,” you correct as you begin to sit up. “Most guys are a little hesitant about it, and I guess I get why. So…if you don’t think that’s something you’d really be—”

“I’d be honored if you’d fuck me.”

You blink. “Really?”

“Really.” His hand comes up to brush a fallen hair behind your ear, touch lingering on your cheek as he studies you. “I know you’d do it right.”

You grin. “I’m flattered you have so much confidence in me.”

“I do,” he agrees softly, thumb sweeping across your jaw. “Of course I do. You should know that.”

But you don’t know that. Not after what he said last time.

And the reminder of your previous argument makes you hesitate. “You need to really think about what you’re agreeing to, Har. Because if you don’t like it, and you want to stop…I need to know that you’ll tell me. I need to know that you trust me enough to tell me what you need.”

His brows pull together, lips quickly falling into a frown as his hand drops to his chest. “You know I trust you—”

“Do I?”

His tongue comes out to run over his bottom lip. “I promise. I trust you. I want to do this. I want to try it. With you.”

“Har—”

“If I don’t like it, I’ll say something. I promise,” he continues. “But I won’t know if I like it or not until I try. And you should always try everything at least once, right?”

You huff. “Yeah, but—”

“Come on…don’t you wanna fuck me?” he teases, gingerly nudging you with his elbow. “I’ll be such a good boy, I swear.”

And you groan at the playful way he speaks, already feeling much better about the proposition. “God. See? This is why I think you’re annoying.”

“You love me,” he declares as you stand from the bed.

And for some reason, your stomach tightens. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You gonna sit there all day or are you gonna strip?”

Instantly, he perks up, watching you closely as you rummage through your nightstand. “What, I have to take my clothes off by myself? You’re not gonna help me?”

“Nope.” You glance over and nod your chin at him. “Go on. Be a good boy.”

This time, he rolls his eyes as he laughs and begins to undo his pants.

As he begins to undress, you begin to gather what you’ll need. You locate the bottle of lube and the dildo, heart in your throat as you allow yourself to imagine what’s about to happen.

You don’t know if he’ll truly like it or not. You want him to. Want to give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. As much pleasure as he deserves. 

But…guys are weird about this. And this kind of intimacy goes far behind missionary.

You know what you’re doing. This isn’t your first time exploring the pleasures of a strap-on with a guy. You know you’ll be able to take care of him for as long as he lets you. 

You just…don’t want it to change anything else. You don’t want him to retreat into himself the way he did last time.

You don’t want to lose him.

You can’t.

Once you’re ready, you return to the bed just as he’s peeling his shirt off his chest and tossing it toward the floor.

And you let yourself admire him. Let yourself drink in each tattoo, each scar, each dip of his muscles. 

He is beautiful.

You notice the way he smiles at your admiration before looking down at the items in your lap. “Where, uh…where do you want me?”

You glance over the mattress. “Hands and knees should be good. Just…anywhere you feel comfortable.”

He nods once, swallowing thickly as he steps forward and begins to crawl back onto the bed.

The room is eerily quiet as you both move into position. You hadn’t expected things to feel so…heavy. But you suppose they are. Suppose neither one of you anticipated your adventure leading you here.

But…you don’t exactly mind.

He stills when he’s gotten into position, head dropping as he stares at your duvet and waits for your next instruction.

You clear your throat and reach out to smooth your palm down his spine. He jolts when he feels you but relaxes quickly, exhaling an anxious sigh.

“You okay?” you call softly, continuing the gentle caress to loosen him up. 

He nods again. “Yeah. Promise. Just…nervous? I guess?”

“I know,” you whisper, settling onto your knees as you dip down to press a kiss to his bare hip. “You still trust me?”

And you can feel the way his entire body goes rigid from your mouth on his skin, his chin meeting his chest. “Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Fucking promise, Bee. Just…”

“Just what?” Your fingers dance toward his ass, ghosting over the curve as you move your kisses toward the middle. “Tell me.”

You’re happy to put him under the same duress he put you earlier, and the way his fists curl around the blanket beneath him makes you smile.

“Bee,” he attempts to warn, but you aren’t having it.

You simply trail your lips down the back of his thigh, and hum, “Come on, Daddy…wanna take care of you. But I can’t until you tell me what you want.”

You can see just how badly he wants to comply, his cock swollen and red. You know that’s mostly thanks to him eating you out and you feel your cheeks warm at the knowledge that it did that to him.

That you did that to him.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you coo, reaching around to slide your palm down the tip as he hisses and lurches forward. “Poor Daddy…bet it’d feel so good to come, wouldn’t it?”

“Bee…please,” he respires. “Please, just…god, please touch me. M’gonna lose my fucking mind.”

You smile again as you straighten back up and reach for the lube. “See? Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

Your head shakes. “Mhm. Okay…I’m gonna start with a finger. But I need you to really be—”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you repeat, equally as soft before you squeeze the liquid into your hand. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He does, the muscles in his arms tensing as the tip of the bottle meets his ass. And when he feels the gel begin to drip down, he reels.

“That’s just the lube, Har,” you tell him, biting back a laugh.

“I know, but it’s cold,” he grumbles as you finish and toss the item aside. 

You give him another moment to unwind before you bring your pointer finger closer…and gingerly slide inside.

You’re more than careful, listening closely for his reaction. It sounds like…relief, but you can’t be sure.

“Har?” you call again, other hand smoothing along his hip to give it a squeeze. 

“M’fine,” he mumbles, once again fisting your duvet. “Promise. Go.”

“Are you—”

“Go,” he stresses before sucking in a quiet breath. “Please, baby. Go. Keep going.”

So, you do. You ease in a bit further until you’re about halfway in, pausing to let him adjust.

He seems to be doing pretty well, despite the way his stomach quivers and his cock twitches. 

And after pumping him once or twice with great care, you push in to the knuckle.

He likes this, a particular groan emitting from his throat as he subtly shifts back into your hand. “Shit, Bee.”

“How’s it feel?”

He takes a moment to think. To find the right words. “Good. Full…I guess.”

“Yeah, and that’s only my finger.”

You hear him make a noise that resembles a laugh before he groans again. “God…please don’t stop. Please…I promise, I’m fine. I just…I…”

“Need more, don’t you?” you answer for him, working the lube in and out as he nods quickly. 

“Yes. Yes…more.”

And who are you to say no?

You pump him a few more times before bringing a second finger into play. Again, you go slow. Making sure to gauge each sound and movement he makes so as to not hurt him. Or catch him off guard. 

But he’s growing desperate. Mindlessly following your thrusts as he grows accustomed to the feeling. As he becomes familiar with the pleasure it brings him.

His jaw drops, hand coming up to his cock to stroke it lazily, needing some sort of friction.

But you reach around and slap it away, tsking as you warn, “Not yet. Not until I’m ready—”

“Bee,” he whines, and the desperate waver in his voice almost guts you.

“Shh. Just one more minute, okay?”

“Please…"

“I know. M’almost ready. Promise.”

He does his best to comply, nodding weakly as he lets his hand drop back down to the bed.

And you feel bad for him, you do. But seeing him so unhinged just about ruins you, and you can feel the way your cunt aches. The way it practically yearns for him, dripping all down your thighs as you continue to work your fingers into him.

And once you’re sure he’s ready…you reach for the dildo.

You’re more than generous with the lube, making sure to keep the experience pleasurable and easy.

And the dildo itself isn’t all that intimidating. Not nearly as big as he is. Average, at best. Perfect for a beginner.

The lack of stimulation makes him restless, and your heart clenches for him as you secure the strap-on around your hips and finally bring the tip back to his glistening hole.

The faint brush of it makes him whimper, and the sound of this confident man coming undone by your hand is what changes everything.

Everything.

It’s music. A goddamn symphony, and you chase the sound by slowly easing the dildo in.

An easy enough task, exactly like you’d hoped.

But he loses it.

The moan is deep and vulgar, echoing off the walls of your bedroom as you squeeze your legs together and press your fingers further into his hip.

“Good,” you hum, dipping down to kiss the base of his spine. “So good, Har. Promise. You okay?”

“Fucking shit,” is his reply. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You smile. “Give me your hand.”

He sluggishly reaches back for you, fingers intertwining with yours when you find him. And it makes your stomach flip but it’s not what you had in mind.

You bring your hands over to his cock, guiding him along the swollen shaft as he instantly ruts into your palm.

“Bee,” he gasps, squeezing both your knuckles and his tip. “Please—”

“I know,” you say again, continuing to work the dildo into him. Slowly at first before you find a steadier rhythm. “I know, doing so good—”

“Shit—”

“That’s it. Just like that. Like when I play with you, don’t you?”

He nods as you both begin to pump him, now matching the pace you've set with your thrusts and the dildo. "Yes...yes. Please don't stop—"

"Won't. Promise," you whisper, kissing down his hip. 

His squirming increases, the one arm holding him up now shaking as he does his best to remain upright. 

But it feels too good. You can see the pleasure written all over the side of his face, and it does fucking wonders for you.

You've never felt more proud to be responsible for his pleasure. To be responsible for making him fall apart the way he is. For showing him exactly what he deserves.

And he takes it. Takes it so fucking well, clutching onto you as you continue to work him closer. 

And he feels so good. So good in your hand. So heavy, and needy, and ready for the release you've promised him.

You want to give him that release more than anything. Want to show him how good it can be. Want to show him the fucking stars.

He yells when he finds it. Your name and about a string of curses, all falling from his tongue one after the other.

He covers your hand, and your bed, and his stomach. And when he collapses, he takes you with him, pulling you down until your chest meets his back.

You imagine this can't be all that comfortable for him, especially with the dildo now halfway out, but he doesn't complain.

He continues to hold onto your wrist as he works to catch his breath.

And you don't fight it.

A minute or two passes before you gently ease the object out, unclip it from your body, and toss it aside.

He hisses at the loss of contact before settling once more, fingers still cemented to your hand.

You know you’ll need to clean up, but he doesn’t seem to have any future plans to do so.

It makes you smile, your cheek pressing into the space between his shoulder blades. His skin hot and slightly sweaty. 

For some reason…it feels good.

“Bee?” he calls quietly, as if not to disrupt the tender moment.

You hum.

“Thank you.”

You let your eyes flutter shut. “Hey, what are friends for?”

A beat.

He tenses. “Yeah…”

Then, the silence returns.

But this time, it’s different.

This time…it’s heavy.

And when he lets go of your hand, you realize it’s not just in your head. 

Things happen quickly. You barely get the chance to roll off of him before he’s sitting up and climbing off the bed. You don’t even have time to ask what changed as he begins reaching for his clothes to re-dress, your heart instantly dropping to your stomach.

“Har…?” you stammer as you awkwardly reach for your underwear. And this rush of deja vu is much more unpleasant than the last. “What…what’s—”

“I gotta go,” he mumbles under his breath, his back to you as he slips his hoodie on. “I forgot. I’ve got…something I’ve gotta do.”

“Oh…” Your chest deflates as you watch him step into his shoes. “What…um, what do you have to do?”

Once he straightens back up, he stills, and you wish you could see his face. “S’not important.”

With that, he heads for your living room, leaving you behind.

And you watch him go, a dumb founded look on your face as he makes his way for the front door.

A hundred and one things instantly run through your mind, from explanations to unpleasant realizations.

But the moment you watch him disappear into the hallway without so much as a glance back, you realize none of it fucking matters.

Just him.

You chase after him, scrambling toward the lobby in hot pursuit as he pushes through the double doors and disappears into the parking lot.

And you’re right behind, slipping out as well as he strides away from you, when you’re suddenly forced to a screeching halt the moment you’re met with a downpour of rain.

The sky is dark, the only smattering of light coming from the few street lamps placed along the sidewalk.

You hadn’t realized it was so late, or so rainy, but you don’t let it stop you.

Instead, you plant your feet onto the steps of the building, and shout, “Watermelon!”

It echoes across the parking lot until you see him freeze, his drenched back still to you.

Then…he turns.

Only about halfway, the hood on his head allowing just enough light to catch the side of his face.

But it’s enough.

“Watermelon,” you repeat as you take a step closer, water trickling down your hair, your body, your clothes. But you don’t care. “I call watermelon.”

He frowns. “The hell are you doing? Go back inside—”

“No.” Your teeth grit, fingers squeezing into fists by your side as a rumble of thunder rolls across the sky. “No. I want you to talk to me.”

His hands disappear into his pockets as he tosses a glare your way. “I told you, I don’t wanna talk—”

“Tough shit.” You take another step. “’Cause I do. And you owe me that.”

The frown deepens. “Bee…don’t.”

 “No, you don’t.” Another step. “After everything we’ve been through…you really think you can’t talk to me? You really think I’m not trustworthy enough to hear what’s going on?”

He scoffs and glances away. “God, you never fucking listen. I told you, it’s not—”

“No, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me anything,” you remind him, volume raising ever-so-slightly as you continue closer. “Something is wrong, Harry. I know you. And I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me—”

“I don’t want you to fix it,” he seethes. “I want you to drop it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t do that. We work it out.”

“We can’t work this out.”

You hesitate as the first clue slips free. “So there is something to work out?”

He sighs, eyes falling shut. “Bee…please go back inside—”

“No.” Yet another step. “No. What is it? What happened? What did I do—”

“Nothing,” he nearly growls, whirling around to face you as if to really nail in his point. “I fucking told you. Nothing—”

“Then what?”

“Bee—”

“What? Is this about Tina—"

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Seriously, did she say something—"

“Bee—”

“Is she mad about this—”

“Can you just—”

“What? Do you feel guilty—”

“No, I just—”

“If you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say something—”

“I didn’t—that’s not—”

“Then what, Har? What happened? Why won’t you fucking—”

“I can’t do this.”

You stop.

He stops.

But nothing else stops. Not the rain. Not the lightning. Not the thunder. Not the racing in your chest as your heart beats against your ribcage like a goddamn drum.

I can’t do this.

You don’t think you heard him right. “…what?”

He scrapes his teeth together. “I can’t…I don’t wanna be friends with you. I don’t wanna be just friends with you, I don’t…fuck.”

He looks down at the wet cement as your lashes flutter and you work overtime to figure out what he’s saying.

“I—for fuck’s sake,” he hisses, almost more to himself before his eyes snap back to yours. “Look, I know that all of this was just…you helping me out. Okay? I know that. I know it meant nothing.”

A crack of lightning strikes the sky and somehow, it’s still not as intimidating as what he’s about to stay.

“But then…it did mean something,” he continues, a bit softer. “It meant everything.”

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what he wants you to say.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he grumbles, frowning once more. “I know, okay? I know. And that’s not…we agreed that it would just be…this. Just this. Nothing else. ’Cause we don’t do anything else. We don’t do…whatever, okay? I know.”

He looks back out into the dark city, leaving you to stare blankly at the side of his face. 

“But it’s you,” he says, hands nestling further into the hoodie. “It’s you, and it’s always been you. Fucking always, Bee. Ever since we were kids. And I didn’t…I didn’t know why. Didn’t even know what it was, but it’s never felt like this with anyone else. Only you.”

Only you.

“And I don’t wanna…fuck, I don’t wanna lose you,” he just about sighs. “I can’t fucking lose you, Bee. But it just…I don’t think I can do this and not fall in love with you.”

You suck in sharp breath, and he looks back.

“Because I will,” he whispers, despite the rain. But you hear it, clear as day. “I will fall in love with you, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you won’t have me.”

He stops now. Allowing the words to sink in. Allowing the truth to make a home in your mind.

And you work to understand. Work to find a response…but the only thing you manage is:

“What about Tina?”

After all, this started with her. It’s only fair that she play her part now.

His expression twists. You don’t know which way. “I like Tina. She’s nice. And she’d probably be really good for me.”

A pause.

“But she’s not you,” he finishes, and for some reason…you’re filled with relief. “It doesn’t feel like this with her. I don’t think it ever will.”

“You don’t mean that,” you blurt out, head shaking quickly. “No, it was just the sex. It’s throwing you off, it...it screws everything up and makes people think they feel one way…when they don’t.”

“Bee…” he begins, almost as if tired, but you barrel on.

“No, you said it yourself. Remember? Endorphins and shit?” You brush some wet hair from your face. “You just…it’s not me. It’s just the sex.”

“No.” He sounds so sure. So confident in his decision. “No, it’s not. It’s you. Always you, Bee—”

“Har—”

“You don’t have to like it. But that’s how it is—”

“Harry…you just…you don’t—”

“But I do.”

“Harry.” You want to stomp your foot. “You can’t…you don’t mean it. You’re confused.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not. I mean…I am, but not about why. Not about this—not about you.”

A pause settles between you as more thunder echoes across the dark sky.

And you look at him. Really look at him. Look for the truth, or the deception, or for anything that will help you make sense of all this.

“You said watermelon,” you remind him, blinking the droplets of rain from your eyes. “Why did you say watermelon?”

Another sigh as he glances back down at his sneakers. “’Cause…I knew. I knew I was starting to…need you. More than I should. And it fucking…it fucking scared me. It scared me how fucking…real it felt.”

Truthfully, you’re a little surprised that the man who has never once before admitted defeat would now confess his fear to you.

 But it makes your head spin.

“And I just…it was a lot,” he continues. “Seeing you. Seeing what I’d done. I mean…the marks. On your neck. I did that. I’ve never done that to someone before. But then I did. And I liked it. I liked getting to be that way with you, and it fucking terrified me. Because what if I hurt you? Actually hurt you somewhere down the line? I’d never fucking forgive myself.”

Your lips press into a quivering line. “…why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” he huffs, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters because you don’t feel that way, and we’re finished with the list anyhow.”

You instantly follow after him, bridging the gap he made. “Don’t. It always matters with us, Har. Always. I mean…do you really think I haven’t wondered the same thing? Do you think it’s been fucking easy to do this with you and then just go back to watching Schitt’s Creek? It’s killed me. Fucking ruined me from the inside out to watch you walk away from me.”

His teeth grit once again, as if steeling himself from the truth.

“You mean everything to me, you goddamn twat,” you just about shout. “Sex or no sex, it doesn’t change that. I agreed to do this with you because I knew it was us. I knew we would be okay. Because we had to be okay. I can’t lose you either, Har. So stop trying to make me—”

“Then, what do you want me to do, huh?” he bellows. “Just wait around for you to believe me?”

“I…I do believe you, I just…I—”

“You just don’t feel the same way—”

“No, I didn’t say that—”

“Then what—”

“I…I—”

“What? I have to tell you, but you don’t have to tell me—”

“That’s not…that’s—”

“What do you want, Bee? What do you want me to do, what do you expect me to—”

“I love you.”

He stops.

Suddenly, and all at once, his eyes going wide.

But you don’t stop. “I love you,” you repeat loudly. “And I’m fucking terrified, too. Because I don’t want it to be just about sex. I don’t want it to be just the endorphins and shit. I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

The silence seems to span an eternity as the rain continues to beat down around you.

Then…he surges forward.

He grabs hold of your wet cheeks with his drenched hands and yanks you closer.

And he kisses you.

He kisses you until you’re more him than you. He kisses you until you no longer have the strength to stand or the power to fight him.

He kisses you until it makes sense.

After a moment, he pauses to allow you a minute to breathe. But he doesn’t go very far. He presses his forehead to yours and he keeps you.

And it’s fucking…everything.

“What if we’re not?” he whispers. “What if we’re not real? What if we aren’t…us?”

You shake your head. "We'll always be us."

He exhales a gentle laugh before brushing his thumbs across your skin. "What if it changes everything?"

You wish you could assure him that it won't. Or even that it will, but in the best way.

But you can’t.

So, instead, you squeeze your fingers around his wrists and smile. 

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Thank you so much to everyone for reading, following along, and offering me so much support on this series 😭 I will never be able to thank you enough for all the kind comments and wonderful feedback, but please know I appreciate you all endlessly 🥹💞💞💞💞

Also, I suppose I did kind of lie. This will probably be the last part of the “main” series but I’ve actually got a few more ideas for extra blurbs and parts about other kinks and situations they might get into. So, if you’d like to follow along, I would be so honored to have you back!

And if you’d rather leave their story here, that is absolutely okay, too! Thank you so much for being here!

Now…I’m gonna go cry HAHAHA ♥️

Next Part:

~ Find Me* (A Teach Me Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Feel Me* (Pt. 4)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags: (I have no idea if you all wanted to be tagged in each additional part, and if not, please let me know and I am so sorry for dragging you here! And if you did...then welcome back!!)

@onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @indierockgirrl @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @straightontilmornin @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @tiaamberxx @chubby-cheek-calum

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles concept #concept #smut #harry styles angst #angst #best friend!harry #harry styles best friend #harry and bee

[ifancyharry]

Too late

Please let me know if you liked this, i love feedback!!

Word count: 6.8k

What is it: childhood friends to strangers to lovers; YN is getting married and she and Harry haven't spoken in five years. Harry hopes it's not too late, because he's been in love with her since he was 10. angst

TW: mentions of marijuana

When Harry received the invite he was coming back from his usual morning run. It had started as a rather nice kind of morning, really; the weather was warm and the sun kissed his tights with every jog he took, turning his skin a nice golden color, but not enough to make him sweat to the point of grossness. 

Days like that were rare in London, especially in May, so Harry, while he was running, thought about five nice things he could do outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather. Of course, he obviously hadn’t taken in prospective the possibility of getting home to an invitation to his best friend’s wedding, so instead of sun bathing, eating his favorite meal on the porch and whatever other three things he’d come up with, he closed the door behind him, shut all the blinds, and sat on his bathroom floor for hours. And not what felt like hours. He really sat there until his bum had taken the shape of the floor’s tiles. 

He has to admit, albeit without little shame, he tried to throw up a couple of times. He most definitely knows how dramatic that sounds, but call it poetic license or a really bad taste in romantic movies, it felt appropriate at the time. Because he really did feel like throwing up. 

When he started feeling too pathetic to excuse his behavior, he jogged downstairs once again, and he picked up the invite in between his fingers. If he’s being honest, he really hoped the letter wouldn’t be there anymore. He’d rather have imagined it. A nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from, or perhaps a sick joke? YN wasn’t like that. She could never joke about such things. 

Harry was definitely the more unserious out of the two, and even he wouldn’t dare to pull such a prank on her. So he knew the invite was real. 

After a brief moment where he seriously contemplated going MIA and pull another ‘kissy’ post and disappear until the upcoming year, he took out his phone from his hoodie’s pocket and opened the calendar app. 

As he came closer to the date, he was praying to god he’d be busy. Call him coward all you want. He was really hoping YN chose the date of the Met (it’s not like he was planning on going, but he’d definitely reconsider if it meant missing her wedding) or the date he’d set for an album release. She hadn’t. She actually chose a nice, free Sunday at the end of the month. And Harry felt like lying on the bathroom floor all over again. 

If Harry was any other person in the world, he would have felt guilty. Because you’re supposed to be happy if your best friend’s getting married. Except, Harry isn’t like other people. Because Harry’s been in love with YN since he was a child; since the very first moment she moved next door and Harry wasn’t even old enough to know what love was all about. He’s certainly aged now, and with it you’d think the love he felt for her could have subdued, or fade, but it never did. It stayed with him until the very day he received the invite. 

Harry eyes briefly the piece of paper in his hands, ‘You’re invited to YN and Graham’s wedding’ and bla bla bla, written in that one font Harry despises (he truly doesn’t, he wasn’t even aware that font existed before this morning), and he feels the sudden urge to pick up a lighter and burn it. That’s how much he despises that font. That’s how much he loves YN. Because seeing her name close to another who isn’t his, makes him want to never get out of bed ever again — he contemplated doing that already, and, frankly, he probably will, at least until he isn’t required to do something like a show or whatever else Jeff schedules for him. 

The thing is that the invite wouldn’t have had this effect on him if YN and Harry were still friends. Because despite Harry still calling YN his best friend, he doesn’t know if she considers him even a friend anymore, and he made it that way. It’s his fault. Harry, who’s someone who never takes accountability for anything, knows it’s his fault. And everyone around them knows, but sometimes Mitch, who maybe cares about him to the point of hiding the truth from him for his sake, tells him it wasn’t his fault entirely; he says: you followed your heart, so you made the right choice — which coming from Mitch means a lot. But Harry, despite appreciating the effort, knows it’s not true. Because he did follow his heart, but he lost her. So really, he would have preferred a life in pain beside her. Because now he’s still in pain but without her. So who won? 

-

YN never thinks about Harry. She doesn’t think about him when she’s shopping at Primark and sees a fruit theme stuffy she knows he’d like, she doesn’t think about him when she gets in the car and her bluetooth connects to his playlist on her Spotify automatically (she told Graham many times it wasn’t her fault, it was kind of a default thing her car did), she’s not thinking about him now, in front of her closet, debating whether she should wear a dress he bought her for her wedding rehearsal dinner.

YN sometimes likes to pretend she never knew Harry. She likes to pretend she never moved next door to him when she was only ten, she likes to pretend he never auditioned on xfactor, she likes to pretend she loves Graham as much as she loves Harry. 

Other times, YN likes to pretend there’s a universe in which Harry’s the one she’s marrying. In this universe, she imagines never meeting Graham, she imagines Harry never leaving and shattering her heart, she imagines the cat they’d adopt, the house they’d buy, how they’d raise their children; in this universe she sees herself always happy. 

She knows she’s not being fair to Graham, so she lets herself linger in this universe only for a couple of minutes and especially on hard days when she feels overwhelmed, it doesn’t make it more morally right, she’s aware of that, but what else could she really do? 

When YN sent Harry that invite, she certainly didn’t think he’d come. It’s not like she appositely called Jeff and asked — begged — him to free his schedule the day of her wedding. She asked Glenn instead because she’s friendlier with her. 

A part of YN still wonders why she did it, from time to time. Maybe, if she was a bad person, she could’ve done it because she wanted Harry to see her happy and in love. But she’s not like that. She could never imagine hurting him in that way. 

So, she always comes to the conclusion that maybe she sent the invite because she just misses him. It’s not like she has to have another reason. Missing him is enough. 

She knows no one is truly aware of the affection she feels for Harry. What she feels for him isn’t nowhere near what she feels for Graham. In the past, she used to be so scared of feeling such things for another, because with those feelings came the realization that she also had something to lose. And she truly felt like she couldn’t do it without him. 

But then, he left her. And she did do it without him. She met Graham, graduated college, and got engaged. And at one point, she felt like she’d give up everything to have Harry beside her again. So, can you blame her if she remembered his address by heart? Can you blame her if she invited him? 

-

Harry feels like a pretentious asshole. 

He hates his car; he hates the flashy yellow color of his Ferrari, the sound it makes when he revs the engine and all heads turn to look at him. All but one, because YN’s the only one that recognizes him by the sound of his car. Even five years later.

When he gets out of the car, he feels like everyone’s looking at him, and he doesn’t dare shift his gaze to see if she’s looking at him too. He feels like they all know what he did that night, that he broke her heart. He feels exposed before them.

He’s glad YN invited Jeff and Glenn too, and he waits for them to get out of their car too before approaching the crowd.

“So nice!” Glenn exclaims once she’s out of the car, shutting the passenger’s door loudly behind her. 

Harry looks around and has to admit, it really is nice. A nice old cottage in the English countryside, with a big well-kept garden full of flowers he knows it’s where the wedding will take place (because YN loves flowers). It’s nice. He’d be a liar if he said otherwise, but it’s not YN. Because YN, or at least the version he knew of her, wanted to get married in the winter — on Christmas Eve —, in a small chalet with only her close family and friends, where the snow would never stop falling and they’d be forced to stay in with the fireplace popping and wool, chunky blankets to keep everyone warm. 

“YN!” He hears Glenn once again, and he shifts his attention to her. 

She’s standing on the porch, wrapped in a long black coat definitely too warm for the weather, and despite being far from where he’s standing, he can see her clearly. She hasn’t changed. It’s still her. 

Harry doesn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe a more grown up version of her, definitely boring and that kind of resembled her mother a bit. He wasn’t expecting her. The YN he once knew still there, perhaps more beautiful than ever. 

He feels his heart skip a beat, and with her walking slowly towards them, waving politely at a couple of guests that stop to greet her on the way, he feels warm. A kind of warm that resembles the one he felt as a kid when he was sick and his mum would take care of him. He feels something that reminds him of a certain familiarity, like he had been floating all this time and he’s finally back on the ground. He feels parts of himself coming back with every step she takes forward.

“Hello” he hears her giggle, and he feels the sound resonate in his chest, spreading all over his body up until the very end of his fingers. 

“Hi!” Glenn squeals, shrugging her shoulders and stretching her arms forward, closing YN in a hug between her arms.

“I’m so happy you came” she says, her voice muffled by Glenn’s shoulder, and Harry isn’t sure if she means him too. 

She hasn’t exactly looked at him, but Harry isn’t upset about that. He knows her. He knows how she is. She never makes eye contact when she’s uncomfortable. And Harry feels a certain smugness come with it. He’d rather make her uncomfortable than uninterested, because with her uncomfortableness comes the realization that maybe, maybe — deep down, under her skin and rooted in her heart — she did miss him too. And maybe it’s not like Mitch says. Maybe it was his fault and he should’ve fought for her. 

However, Harry realizes things always late; because she’s getting married to someone else now. 

YN briefly hugs Jeff too, and after that, she smiles awkwardly at Harry and waves at him with her hand, “Hey” she says, her hand dropping by her side. 

“Hey” he replies, and he watches as she hugs the coat closer to her body as a sudden gust of wind embraces them, ruffing her hair. Harry can make out the faint scent of her shampoo, and as it fills his nostrils, his mind is swarmed with memories of hot summer nights where they would talk in bed for hours after swimming in his stepdad’s pool all day, minds free of whatever worry a 15 year old could have, sweaty bodies sticky together, tanned skin against skin, Harry not being able to make out where he’d end and she’d begin. 

“This place is so nice!” Glenn interrupts, and YN is grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what she would’ve done if Glenn hadn’t talked. She fears she would’ve leaned in to hug Harry if she’d stared a second more into his green eyes. 

In the five years they spent apart, YN always wondered if there would come a time when she’d no longer remember the exact shade of green of his eyes and the way they used to twinkle when he’d talk about something he was passionate about. 

Now, YN doesn’t know what things Harry’s passionate about, but his eyes are the same color she remembered. Despite the stubble on his chin, and the cheeky grin he used to give her turning in a more mature one, his eyes stayed the same. 

“I know, right! Graham picked it, he used to come here on vacation with his family when he was a child” YN smiles happily at Glenn, and turns her body to look around herself.

Harry frowns at her words. Of course Graham picked it. She never would’ve if it was up to her, he knew that. And somehow, call him an asshole all you want, he feels a certain smugness coming with the awareness that he knows YN more than her own fiancee does. 

“It’s nice” he agrees, and he smirks at her when she snaps her head in his direction, probably not expecting him to talk, “but I prefer winter weddings, you know? With the snow and everything…” 

YN’s happy smile turns in a frown when she hears the words come out of his mouth. She isn’t entirely sure about Harry’s motives. She doesn’t know if he remembers that she wanted to get married in winter or if he’s just expressing a preference. She doesn’t know this Harry anymore.

“It’s beautiful, YN” Jeff chimes in, and YN shifts her glance towards him and smiles at him too.

“Let’s go, then! I want to introduce you to Graham” she exclaims, and turns around, grabbing Glenn by the arm and intertwining it with hers.

“C’mon” Jeff says, patting Harry on the shoulder as an encouragement.

Harry nods and starts to walk beside him, his hands tucked in his pockets as another gust of wind flies over them. 

He watches YN walk in front of him, too occupied to talk with Glenn to close her coat against the wind, and he’s sure he can make out the floral design of the Gucci dress he bought her on his vacation to Italy many years ago. How happy she looked when she opened it, and Harry remembers he thought about how much he wanted to buy her every pretty dress in the world if it meant seeing her so happy.

He kisses his mouth at the memory of every dress he saw in those five years and that he thought about buying. Now, knowing she still wears his gifts, he wishes he did. He wishes he bought everything that reminded him of her. 

Harry knows it’s just a dress, and he shouldn’t get this flustered over such a simple thing as that! But with it comes the realization that maybe, in her deepest subconscious, she wore it for him. And Harry’s content with that. Because maybe then that means that those five years apart didn’t mean anything. Maybe then she missed him as much as he missed her. And Harry feels warm at the mere thought. Maybe he hasn’t lost her entirely.

-

Harry met Graham, and everything went somehow fine. 

It’s not like she was imagining Harry fighting Graham over her — no, that’s just a thought that pops in her mind every once in a while when she catches herself fantasizing over what her life with Harry could be like.

It’s weird to YN how there’s someone in her life that Harry didn’t know until she introduced him. And not just someone; her future husband. It sets a weird kind of awareness, because until now she was almost pretending Harry was in an island unknown to mankind, without his phone and that’s why he wasn’t calling. 

Now, seeing him shake her fiancee’s hand, smiling politely at him, she realizes Harry wasn’t stranded on an island without technology; the missing phone calls were a choice. So she should be happy she’s no longer involved with such a person. 

Why isn’t she happy, though? Why does she catches herself wishing she could go up to his room, lay on his bed and talk to him? 

She really wishes she could tell him she’s scared of marrying Graham. She knows he could tell him that and he wouldn’t judge her like everyone else would. She knows he’d have the answer. He’d say something like “get your stuff, I’ll start the car” and they’d laugh and run away to the nearest McDonald’s drive through to stuff their mouth with a big mc or some chicken nuggets, and Harry would purposely stain her wedding dress with barbecue sauce, and she’d laugh. As I said before, whenever she catches herself fantasizing about an alternative universe with Harry, she’s alway happy.

So, then, why didn’t she call? Why did she let five years pass? Five years without hearing his voice. Seeing his eyes. 

She doesn’t know why. 

At first she was mad, because Harry made love to her and then he left. So she was really really mad. Then, after the anger had subdued, she got scared. Scared he didn’t want her anymore. Scared their friendship wouldn’t be like before — now, she thinks it doesn’t matter if their friendship had changed. She wanted Harry around, no matter what.

She’s aware sometimes nostalgia makes you remember things that were never there. But she feels like it was different with Harry; it’s why she’s walking towards his room now, heart in her throat, and hands twitching at her sides.

She wishes it could be easier. She wishes she could be different. She has a fiancee. Why is she going to Harry’s room? Why did she invite him in the first place!

The cottage has six rooms upstairs, and she remembers exactly in which room she put Harry. He’s the only one without a plus one, so his room is smaller than the others. She hopes he liked it, but she knows he didn’t. It’s too fancy, for him. He doesn’t like flashy things, which is kind of ironic for someone who owns six cars, but who is she to judge when she helped him pick the very one he came here with? 

When she stops in front of his door, she feels ashamed, and she’s scared someone may catch her, even if she’s not doing anything wrong, just greeting an old friend. But Harry wasn’t always a friend. There was one night in which they were more than friends, and she feels herself fluster at the thought of being alone with him in a bedroom.

She releases a big breath and closes her hand in a fist, knocking it against the door. 

When he doesn’t answer she tries again, “Harry, it’s YN”, she clarifies. 

Nothing.

She stands before the door for a couple of minutes, but then realizes he’s not going to answer. He doesn’t want to see her. 

It’s fine. She’s fine. 

She understands, it’s been five years. She can’t pretend nothing has changed between them. She feels stupid when she turns around to head back to her room and a single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away before anyone can see. She refuses to cry. She cried enough when he left. 

This gave her the answer she needed. She’s marrying Graham, and if before she wished Harry’d persuade her in not marrying him, she knows he doesn’t care now. 

-

Harry’s sitting on the his bedroom’s floor, freshly showered, his hair still a little damp from the water, waiting near the outlet on the wall for his phone to charge. He’s playing with the chord of his phone’s charger as he listens to his mother rumble on the other side of the line. 

He’s not paying much attention to what she’s saying, his mind is definitely more focused on this morning’s encounter he had with YN’s fiancee. Harry tried to be on his best behavior, because despite hating Graham, he loves YN and he wants to be respectful of her choices. Harry has always been someone that never fought for what he wanted. He kind of always went with other’s decisions. He doesn’t know why he’s like this. Sometimes he thinks it’s just easier to let others decide for you, other times he’s aware it’s a matter of accountability: he doesn’t want to be responsible for his own choices, because then if something goes wrong, he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. 

“How’s YN? I’ve seen her Instagram and she looks even more beautiful” he hears his mum say, and his eyes widen at her words.

“Mmmh, yes, she’s beautiful” Harry agrees, chewing at the skin of his thumb. 

“Do you think she’ll have a baby soon?” Anne asks, and Harry almost wants to throw his phone against the wall at the mere thought of the love of his life having a baby with someone else.

“I don’t know, mum… I don’t think so” he shakes his head, but his words aren’t that much convincing to him. He doesn’t know if YN wants to have a baby with Graham. She had expressed her desire to have a big family when they were still friends and when she thought the timing was right, but was it now? Was it with Graham? He honestly doesn’t know.

“You know, I always thought she had a little bit of a crush on you” Anne giggles, almost childishly.

“She’s getting married” Harry says, and his tone suddenly turned stern. He doesn’t want to be rude, especially to his mum, but thoughts of what could’ve been have been hunting him especially hard since he saw her, and he doesn’t want to come to terms with the fact that maybe something could’ve happened between them if he had been a little more brave.

“She isn’t married now” his mum says, and he rolls his lips in his mouth. 

Weird enough, he knows what his mother means: she’s giving him an ultimatum, a sweet reminder that there’s still time. She’s not married yet. But what could Harry do? He really wishes someone could tell him. He wants his mum to say, Harry, tell her you love her before it’s too late. And he swears he’d do it. He’d do it right now. But coming up with that decision on his own? He’s not that much impulsive. 

“Mum” he says, “I have to go now. It’s time for dinner”.

“Okay, my love.” She replies.

“We’ll talk tomorrow” he nods, and ends the call, throwing his phone in his lap.

He shuts his eyes tightly and his head drops between his knees, his hands reaching up to clutch his hair at the roots. 

He feels pathetic. He feels like screaming in a pillow. He picks up his phone again and taps at the scree to check the time: 7.37 pm. At this time tomorrow the love of his life will be married to someone that’s not him.

-

Harry is late. Everyone has already eaten their appetizer and he still hasn’t shown up. Yn knows she probably shouldn’t care, especially after he didn’t answer the door after she knocked on it three times feeling like a naive teenager with a school crush. But still. She wonders what he’s doing. It’s not like she blames him, this dinner is pretty boring, and coming from the bride says a lot! But Graham especially requested no music and no dancing while eating, so the room is kind of quiet, albeit for a soft giggle or whispered words every once in a while. 

She’s biting in her pasta when Harry walks in, and suddenly she feels breathless. He’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that warms her insides and reminds her of the color yellow, the sun shining when they visited Rome together, the tan he used to get at his stepdad’s pool when she’d spend hours looking at his lips while he sunbathed and she wondered if they tasted like chlorine. Beautiful. 

He walks slowly towards where he spots Jeff and Glenn, and YN looks at him shamelessly; he’s wearing cream tailored pants that hug his tights perfectly, paired with a silky blue blouse tucked at the front of the pants. She swallows the mouthful of pasta. When they were friends he definitely didn’t dress like that, he was more into skinny jeans and flowery button down shirts. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like him like this. But, must I dare say, she’d like Harry even if he was wearing a trash bag.

He throws her an awkward smile before sitting down, and she shifts her eyes down on her plate, suddenly aware of being caught staring. 

As dinner goes on, she never raises her eyes from her plate, not even when she feels a familiar pair of green eyes burning her skin.

-

YN pushes her palm against the wooden door and takes in a big breath once the fresh spring air hits her warm face. She takes a step outside and the door closes behind her with a thump. She cringes at the sound and hopes it didn’t wake anyone up.

It’s almost one in the morning and she couldn’t sleep. She doesn’t know wether it’s pre-wedding anxiety or the thought of another universe soon to be lost forever, but she felt a heavy weight on her chest that made it hard to breathe.

She looks at the garden before her and decides she wants to take a walk in the rose garden. She’s always loved flowers, and she thinks seeing some beauty could help her clear her mind.

She makes her way down the cobbled path, illuminated by some lamps paved across the way, but when she reaches the start of the rose garden, she has to blink a few times to accustom her eyes to the darkness. 

The garden is the only thing she likes about her wedding location, and she’s thankful Graham agreed to get married there. He decided everything else, so at least he left that part up to her.

When she turns the corner of the hedge that divided the rose garden from the location of the wedding, she’s surprised to see a dark figure sitting in one of the reception’s chair.

She walks closer and she’s able to make out a familiar pair of broad shoulders bent over. Harry’s sitting on a chair from the first row, his head hanging low between his shrugged shoulders, his legs are slightly opened and his forearm is resting on one of his tights, the bright fire red of what she knows is a joint illuminating the side of his face. 

She’d recognize Harry even in darkness, but she still feels her heart fall to her chest when she realizes he’s right in front of her, sitting probably where he’d be tomorrow.

She debates whether she should go sit next to him or go back to her room and pretend she never saw him. It’s almost like she can’t control her own legs when they start to walk towards him.

With the movement, Harry turns his head around and his eyes widen at the sight; YN’s walking towards him, but what’s most shocking to him is that she’s making her way down the aisle. He suddenly gets up on his feet when he sees her, and when she stops right in front of him, she gives him a mischievous smile.

She’s breath taking. If this is what Graham will see tomorrow, he doesn’t know how he’ll manage not to faint.

“Walked like a true bride!” He says jokingly, and she giggles at his words, slapping his chest lightly. Harry feels the skin burn under her touch.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and she shakes her head.

“Can I?” She says, gesturing to the lit joint he’s holding between his fingers. He’d almost forgotten what he was doing before she appeared.

“Mhmh” he nods, stretching his arm. 

She doesn’t take the joint from his fingers though, she just opens her mouth and waits for him to place it between her lips, and Harry swears he can feel himself faint, his head dizzy with all the love he feels for her.

He holds the joint between her lips and she takes a long drag from it, tilting her head towards his fingers, closing her eyes after she inhales. She opens her mouth again and opens her eyes as she exhales the smoke from her mouth, Harry watching closely her every movement, his eyes dark and glazed over.

He watches as she turns around and sits on one of the white chairs, the one next to where he was sitting before, and she tugs one leg to her chest as she hugs it closer to her chest.

Harry stays standing before her for a while, looking at the faint image of the cottage behind her and absentmindedly smoking his joint. When he feels her eyes on him, he looks down at her. It’s been years since they’ve been this close, and suddenly he’s 15 years old again, his hands twitching at his sides from how much he wants to stretch them out and just touch her.

“Graham is nice” he says, and immediately after he cursers himself in his mind for ruining the moment when he sees her gaze harden.

“Yeah, he is…” she whispers. 

Harry tilts the joint towards her to ask her if she wants another hit, but she shakes her head no and he drops his hand at his side, nodding his head.

“I really like the place, by the way. I was only teasing this morning” he shrugs, smiling at her. 

“You were?” She asks, and when he nods she says, “so you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” And he doesn’t have to say anything more, because they both know what he means.

“Graham picked everything” she releases a shaky breath at that, and Harry takes another drag from his joint and raises both his eyebrows to signal her to continue as he exhales the smoke from his mouth.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t want this” she shakes her head, shifting her gaze from his eyes to an indefinite point behind him.

Harry wonders whether she means the cottage or the wedding. Perhaps she even means their fight. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t dare ask, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that maybe she’s offering him an opening to a conversation he isn’t sure he wants to have.

 “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful anyway.” He smiles and throws the joint’s butt on the grass.

“Yeah” she nods firmly, and he’s aware of the tension lingering between them.

“I better go,” she says, getting up from the chair and tugging at the sleeves of her sweater to cover her hands “big day tomorrow”.

She smiles awkwardly at him when she walks past him, and Harry notices the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

He shifts his gaze in front of him, staring out in the darkness. He’s about to lose her all over again, the bitter night five years prior vivid in his memory, hitting him like a bullet. He thought the pain from leaving her that night had left, and he wonders how much time it will take for it to stop hurting. Maybe it never will.

He’s sure he doesn’t want to live his life with the memory of her back planted in his brain, leaving him once again. He doesn’t want to think back to her and remember her like this. Leaving.

So, when she’s about mid way through the aisle, he calls her name.

He doesn’t have a speech in his mind, and when she turns around with her brows furrowed and her shoulders sagged he doesn’t really know what to say, how to tell her.

“What, Harry?” It’s the first time he hears her say his name in five years, and he’s upset she sounds so defeated. He wishes he could make this easier for her, but he doesn’t know how.

His chest floats as he takes a big breath. 

“Whatever” she says, shaking her head, but Harry notices she doesn’t turn around.

“Don’t marry him” it’s the only thing he manages to say, and he isn’t even looking at her, he’s still looking out in front of him, and she wishes he could look at her to see if he’s joking or not.

She scoffs, because despite the words coming out of his mouth made her insides warm , she isn’t sure if he’s being serious. “You’re so… so immature! You enrage me!”

“No, no!” He hurries, waving his palms in front of him. “Hear me out, then you can — you can leave. if you want you can leave.” He nods, trying to convince himself, but he really doesn’t want her to leave.

“Don’t marry him. You know he’s not right for you! He… he’s controlling, he doesn’t know you! You shouldn’t marry someone like that.” He’s standing in front of her now, and he grabs her hands in his.

“Is that the only reason you don’t want me to marry him?” She whispers, looking up in his eyes.

“No… i-“ he sighs. 

“You can’t even say it, Harry.” She frowns, trying to free her hands from his grip, but he only tightens it, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I can say it.” He nods, “i don’t want you to marry him because I want it to be me. I— I have loved you since I could remember.”

She shuts her eyes tightly at his words, “you don’t mean that”.

Harry frees her hands and reaches for her face, caressing her warm cheeks with his thumbs.

“I do. I do.” He nods, “look at me, angel — please look at me” 

YN opens her eyes and Harry can feel his heart clench at the sight of her beautiful eyes filled with tears. 

“You had me, Harry. All those years ago, you had me. But you let me go! You have no idea how… how hard it was”

This time, Harry closes his eyes and then reopens them, despite being aware, the thought of making her suffer is hard to face. 

“I thought… I didn’t…—“ he shakes his head, his hands still keeping the firm grip on her face, “my life was hard, YN. It was crazy. I thought… you weren’t ready. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“You did anyway. I hated you for what you did to me. I hated you for leaving.” She frowns, tears spilling from her eyes, but Harry wipes quickly at them with his thumb before they can roll down her cheeks. He leans down to place a delicate kiss between her eyes.

“I never once left you. In my heart it has always been you.”

He can feel her start to soften, but the she says “It’s too late now.”, and she shakes her head, her hands reaching up to remove Harry’s from her face. He complies, not wanting to force her. “I’m getting married, tomorrow.” 

“Angel, please” he whispers, but she’s already turned around, and Harry’s left alone in the middle of the aisle.

Suddenly he feels nauseous, and he brings a hand to his chest to calm his restless heart. As I said before, Harry realizes things always too late.

-

The next morning, Harry wakes up on his bed with the sound of an alarm he forgot he’d set. As he rubs the sleep off his eyes, he can’t wait to get the hell out of this place as soon as he can, and when he reaches for his phone and checks the time, he remembers why he set the alarm so early in the morning: this way he can avoid everyone from the ceremony on his way out. 

He can’t bare the thought of sitting through the wedding. He’ll send YN some fancy gift that she’ll enjoy with her husband and then he’ll disappear from her life once again. 

He knows it’s better this way.

He did it one time before. He knows already how long it will take to mourn their lost friendship and get back on track. The sooner he goes home and sleeps his feelings off, the sooner he’ll feel better.

He hurriedly throws his clothes in his suitcase, without caring if they get wrinkly or ruined. He grabs his phone and its charger and doesn’t even bother to check the bathroom twice to see if he left something behind. He doesn’t care, he’s eager to get far away and never face the heartbreak he’s leaving with.

As soon as he opens the door, though, the bag in his hand falls from his grip to the ground as he takes in the image in front of him. 

YN’s against the other side of the wall, her head hung low between her shoulders. 

“YN?” He asks, and she looks at him with her big, glossy eyes, and Harry feels like staying. He feels like grabbing her hand and tugging her inside, kissing her until he’s finally able to show her how much he loves her.

“I’m not… I—“ she shakes her head, her voice trembling as she gets her back off the wall and takes a step towards him, “i called the wedding off.”

It’s the only thing she says, but Harry feels butterflies fly in his stomach. His heart clenches in his chest, and he has to bring a hand to his chest like he did the night before to make sure he’s not having a heart attack.

“It’s not too late.” She whispers, “if you still want me, it’s not too late.”

Harry reaches up to her and tugs her closer to him by her arm. 

“I’ll never not want you”.

YN steps in the room and closes the door behind her, and Harry gently takes her face in his hands and tilts her head up. He looks from one eye to the other attentively before placing his lips against hers, and he almost contemplates not closing his eyes in fear she’d no longer be there when he reopens them, but YN moves her hands from his neck, to his shoulders, and he feels her grabbing his shirt between her fingers and holding him closer, her fingers digging in his skin. She’s real. She’s here, and he’s kissing her. It’s been five years since he’s last tasted her, and this time he’s kissing her without guilt. Because it’s not too late. Life just started.

YN parts her lips slightly and Harry sucks her bottoms lip in his mouth, eager to taste her more. 

His tongue licks over her lips and when she whimpers against his lips, he sneaks his  tongue inside her mouth and caresses hers with his. He explores her mouth like his life depends on it, and he feels like he wants to drink her. He wants to get drunk on her taste and never recover.

YN moves her hands from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, tugging on it, and Harry parts from her mouth breathlessly. He feels dizzy and he’s not entirely sure it’s from the lack of air.

“No” he says, taking her hands in his and squeezing them in his grasp.

YN pouts at him and he tilts his head to kiss it away from her lips with a brief peck: “i want you. I really do. But not here”.

She widens her eyes at his words and realizes she was almost about to have sex with Harry when her ex fiancee and his family could hear them. She giggles loudly at the thought, and Harry, despite not knowing why she’s laughing, lets out a chuckle, shaking his head and looking at her with a bewildered look in his eyes.

“Let’s leave then.” She says when she calms down.

“Okay.” He nods, picking up his bag from the floor, “get your stuff. I’ll start the car.”

YN bites down on her bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

“What?” He says once he realizes she still hasn’t moved from her place.

She shakes her head, “nothing” she says, “i’m glad I wasn’t too late.”

“You could never be too late” he smiles, and he hopes she knows he’d wait for her all his life if it meant having her beside him. 

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #harry styles #harry syles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry #friends to lovers

[eveningepiphany]

far from sober | H.S

my masterlist

part II

summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol

a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x

———

Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.

You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.

Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.

You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.

So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.

Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.

It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.

“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.

“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.

Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.

But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.

His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”

Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.

“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.

“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.

“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.

“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.

“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”

He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”

Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.

This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.

He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.

“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.

Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”

Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.

Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.

You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.

“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.

He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.

“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”

“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.

“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.

You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.

Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.

You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.

Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.

“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.

“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.

“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.

You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”

“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”

You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.

You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”

His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.

However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.

He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.

“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.

“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.

He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.

You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.

The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.

“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.

“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”

He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.

“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”

The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.

“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”

He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“

He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”

You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.

“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”

“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.

And so touchy.

“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.

He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.

The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.

You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes

They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.

Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”

You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”

He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.

“So I can take your shoes off.”

You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”

“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.

He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.

Christ. This is harder than he thought.

“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.

You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.

It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.

There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.

“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.

You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.

“Have you always looked so… like… this?”

He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”

“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.

“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.

“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.

He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.

He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.

He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.

And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.

You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.

He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.

He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.

A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”

He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.

Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.

You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.

The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.

His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.

You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.

A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.

He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.

“Do you want to… take this off before…?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.

You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.

Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.

Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.

He’s so nervy and cute around you.

“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.

It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.

It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…

You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.

He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.

“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.

“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.

He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”

This hits you hard.

And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.

She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.

As noted earlier, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.

Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.

He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.

But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”

“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.

He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.

He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.

He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.

And he just hugs you.

Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.

“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.

———

PART II, found here

a/n pt2:

back again guys, hello!

this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.

that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.

but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x

all my love, <3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #best friend!harry #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #best friends brother #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #drunk! y/n

[cupidsdolll]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3

- - - -

Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.

He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.

“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.

“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.

He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.

“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.

“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.

Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.

Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.

But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.

“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.

- - - -

When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.

He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.

He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.

- - - -

Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.

The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.

Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.

She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps

in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.

She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.

Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.

She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.

They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.

Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.

She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.

- - - -

Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.

She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.

“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.

“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.

“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.

“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.

“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.

She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.

“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.

“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.

She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.

“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.

“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.

She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.

“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.

“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.

“Anything but that.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry #harrystyles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #best friend!harry #my writing

[hsdiaries]

glitter on the floor;

6.5K words

best friend!harry x best friend fmc, phh, running out of time, love confession, little itty bitty dom, little itty bitty sub, oral fmc recieving, p in v, praising, teasing.

"Can you believe after today, there is just five months until graduation, Goldie? Five months left before we never have to fight for parking in Jefferson or cross our fingers we didn't get Ferguson as our thesis mentor?" Harry chuckled over the phone, a smile instantly playing on my pink lips. That's what it did. His laugh. Turned on all the stars with his crescent moon smile.

"You mean five months until you leave me to fend for myself? Glad you're so enthusiastic about it, H." I pout, finishing up the charcuterie spread I had been working on for the past couple hours.

"D, you know I'm dreading that above anything else. Who else is going to judge people with me over an afternoon coffee? No one understands afternoon coffees like you."

I pushed off the kitchen counter, turning to walk over to the dining room table, sitting down, "I guess."

Everyday that felt like a personal countdown to adventure for Harry felt like a countdown to loneliness for me. It wasn't that I didn't have friends, I had plenty; taking in the giant city rental we would be using to countdown the new year only proved it. Still, they weren't Harry. They weren't my best friend. They weren't my everyday life line.

They weren't the man I had been deeply, painfully in love with for four years now.

"Look, tonight, we will get beyond drunk. We will eat our grapes under the table, we will jump in the giant indoor pool at midnight and wash away the stress of senior year. I need you to forget that I'm going anywhere come the new year. Let's just have the best time, okay?" He said over the phone, I inhaled, holding my breath, slowly letting out as Leigh and Olive walked in the door, waving around bags of alcohol.

"Okay, I gotta go, thing one and thing two just got here, gotta finish setting up." I said and he laughed.

"Five bucks on Leigh knocking out before midnight." He said at the same time I whispered it to him, each of us cracking up.

"Is that dimples? Tell him to leave you alone, it's girl time before he gets here and you ignore us the rest of the night." Olive said, my eyes rolling.

"Bye Harry, the girls are testy." I giggled a bit before he said bye again, and we hung up. I looked down at my phone, biting my lip as Leigh walked over, placing bottles of vodka on the table.

"Tell him." She said, her weight falling to her left hip. I furrowed my eyebrows as I glanced up at her, my eyes drifting to Olive then back to Leigh.

"Tell him what exactly?" I said, my chest tight as I filled with confusion.

"That you're in love with him and always have been and you want seven kids with him and a big house wi—..."

"—Woah! I do not love him!" I cut off Olive who slammed the fridge door shut, giving me a face of unamusement.

"Goldie, baby....everyone knows. I mean everyone. Even the north wing cleaning lady our freshman year knew," Olive said, walking over, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck, "He's leaving, D. For three years...as of now. What if he stays? What if he me—.."

"— stop, stop I get it. Okay. I get it. You think I don't think about it? But what if I tell him and he doesn't feel the same. Then we spend the last five months together with him being awkward as fuck. No thank you." I said, gently pushing Olive off of me and getting up. I walked over to the charcuterie spread, picking up leftover cheese and meat packages, moving to throw them away.

"Can you all handle the decorations? Imma go rest a bit before we have to get ready." I smiled small, both of them nodding as I moved out of the kitchen and into the giant living room to the master suite I knew I would even be sharing with Harry tonight.

I closed the door and locked it, moving to the bed and letting myself fall on it face first, screaming into the mattress hoping it was muffled enough no one would bother me.

Harry's POV

"You're bringing Taylor? Harry, you can't be serious. You realize you are going to shatter D into a million pieces right?" Zayn said, as I held up two different shirts in front of me.

"What are you even talking about? Goldie, if anything will make her feel welcomed, join us on a drunken night." I turned over my shoulder at him, raising both my eyebrows.

"You're so daft, Styles. Honestly. We all know Goldie loves you. And you love her, you damn idiot. Did you not hear her disappointment on the phone? Tonight for her is about you two, and you're bringing a girl?" Zayn said, suddenly my throat was tightening. I cleared it, turning away from him and furrowing my eyebrows as I looked in the mirror.

"She doesn't love me like that, Zayn. It's not like that with her. Even if it was, I'm not risking it," I closed my eyes, shaking my head that I was even letting him get to me.

"You... and her actually, are both idiots. You're both in love with each other and are going to leave here filled with stupid regret and I'm over trying to get you to see it," He said, shrugging and walking out of my room. I rolled my lip into my mouth, biting it before throwing my shirts on the bed.

"Fucks sake," I called out, throwing my head back. When my head rolled back straight, my eyes landed on the photo on my desk. Goldie and I at her sorority formal last year before she dropped. I swallowed, wondering if maybe Zayn was right.

—

I entered the sorority house watching as other couples met, taking photos and admiring each other's outfits. I rolled my eyes thankful Blondie was over this life. It wasn't her, didn't suit her. She was too kind. Too caring to ever fit in with the people she called her supposed sisters.

"So you do own a suit?" I heard a voice say from above me, my eyes moving to the stairs as Blondie made her way down them. I felt my jaw drop slightly, pressing my lips together as I swallowed. Sitting on her body was a sparkly black dress, one long sleeve, one bare shoulder. Her long blonde hair draped down her body. She was beautiful, breathtaking really. My best friend, the only girl that could get me in a stupid suit at a stupid sorority formal.

The fact Goldie was her name fit her better than I think her parents ever imagined. She was golden.

Making the rest of her way over to me, I grabbed her hand, spinning her around in a small circle. She giggled as I pulled her towards me, "You, are the prettiest girl ever to be in Sigma Kappa, shame they are losing their only true asset." I whispered as the back of her hand hit my chest.

"H, shut. No one knows yet and I would like to enjoy this last formal as my money went towards it." She glared at me a bit and all I could do was poke her nose as her demeanor softened.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's enjoy the night, at least the food is good." I shrugged, pulling out my phone and turning on the camera, "Alright, let's be like everyone else and show off how cute we are." I snapped photos of us, being as silly as possible before we started loading into giant charter buses taking us to the unknown location.

Once we arrived, we ate and drank with everyone else; keeping up appearances and interacting with the few girls that were actually nice to my Goldie. By the time the dancing started, I was in my own world with her, nothing else really mattered other than making sure my best friend was having the time of her life.

At one point, the drinks were starting to create an overall haze on the night. Goldie's body felt heavy against mine, her hips rolling so that her ass pushed against me, my prick fighting the blood flow she was beckoning with her movements. Her scent seemed to be the only thing my sense could pick up, cherry vanilla dreams as my nose found itself trailing her neck.

Her breath was rigid as my hands explored her waistline, fingers digging into the fleshy feel of her hips through her dress. The way her hips rolled, placed my dick perfectly between her ass, hard as ever and I couldn't find it in my drunken haze to care. She was my best friend, but she was also insanely perfect. Sexy beyond what my imagination could have ever hoped for. I wasn't blind and I wasn't an idiot. I also suddenly was ignoring any bit of logic that normally stopped me from crossing a line with her. My lips grazed her skin softly, her hips slowing slightly in their movement as I did. My lips puckered softly against her skin as the music began to slow, pulling us both out of the haze. My eyes skimmed the room, as couples began turning to face each other, wrapping up in each other as they moved to the slow music.

Goldie pulled away, slowly turning to face me, her face almost unsure as to what her next move should be. I swallowed, my hand reaching for her waist, pulling her against me, my hard cock pressing against her though making my cheeks redden in embarrassment. Her giggle made a chuckle escape my own, her hands relaxing around my neck.

"You seem to have invited a third member to this dance, H." She teased, her chocolate brown eyes searching my green.

"I think he was called over by you D, you seemed to be drawing him out in your direction," I raised an eyebrow with a tilt of my head and she shrugged innocently.

"No idea what you could possibly be referring to."

We moved to the soft flow of the music, silence surrounding us as her forehead pressing into my chin, her soft breath hitting against my neck. My fingers traced a soft up and down pattern along her back, playing with the ends of her hair whenever I came in contact with them. Her fingers massed the nape of my neck gently, tugging softly at the curls that rested there.

I could have stayed there, in her cherry vanilla heaven, layered in golden dust of magic; but the music picked up. Everyone cheered as they broke out into dance, jumping to the EDM music that slowly picked up until the beat dropped. She pulled away from me, her eyes searching mine again before looking down and over her shoulder.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom, grab me some water?" She said and I nodded, watching a look of confusion flash quickly across her before she nodded, turning and walking away. I watched her walk away, I watched her and my feet had sudden aches to follow her. To grab her and tell her I knew what she felt right then and there. That I had felt that confusion everyday since freshman year. To tell her I also felt confused on what lines I could and wanted to blur with her.

But I didn't. I turned to the bar to grab us each a water.

Blondie's POV

I looked myself over in the mirror, fisting and unfisting my hands to fight the sweaty palms that kept happening. All afternoon into the early evening my mind had been racing with Olive and Leigh's statements all circling into my current decision.

I was going to tell Harry how I felt. I was going to finally hand him my heart on a damn gold platter for his taking.

If he even wanted it.

I sighed, pulling up my black strapless dress, small pieces of silver sequins drawing eyes to my supple chest, a beautiful jeweled necklace sitting around my neck. I looked nice, I knew I did, and I couldn't wait for Harry's eyes to take me in, because they always told me how beautiful I looked. Even if the words never left his mouth.

Turning to exit the room, I opened the door to chatter and music coming from down the hall, people slowly starting to fill up the giant house. I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face, hiding the nerves that were slowly eating away at me. My eyes scanned the room until I found Leigh and Olive, my feet caring me quickly in their direction. They both looked at me wide-eyed, Olive clapping at my arrival, taking my hand and spinning me.

"Very well done, very well done," she said, making me roll my eyes as I took in my best friends dressed in glitter and sequins to the tens.

"And look at you both! I'm blinded!" I exclaimed as Leigh handed me a shot.

"All I'm saying is, if we don't get laid tonight, I've lost hope in all men," we all laughed, Olive picking up a shot which we all quickly cheersed and threw down our throats.

Vodka, yuck.

I scrunched up my nose, shaking my face as I looked over the room. Still no Harry, and I would lie if I said it wasn't driving me insane. I brought my attention back to Leigh and Olive as they carried on with their usual back and forth. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but half of what they said escaped me as quickly as the words left their lips.

Eventually we moved our way into the party, greeting, mingling and dancing whenever a good song on the playlist came on. I was three shots in when the door finally opened, Zayn and Niall walking in and my heart flew up in my throat knowing Harry would soon follow behind. My lips parted, my mouth drying from the breath he took away from me. He was wearing a tweed jacket black pants , with a white low cut tank tucked in underneath. The cross pendant I gave him for his first birthday we spent together sitting perfectly on his hair peppered chest.

I couldn't seem to catch my breath, but it was no longer at the mere sight of him. It was at the way I watched his hand wrap around the slim waist of a tall blonde. It was the way she smirked at him, eyes traveling down as she placed her slim fingers on the cross pendant that I felt belonged to me.

"Baby!" I was snapped out of the slow motion vortex I entered as Leigh squealed, running over and clinging on to Zayn, kissing as Niall pretended to gag next to them. He spotted Olive, blushing almost instantly, their greeting much more quiet as he kissed her cheek, holding her gently.

I swallowed, looking around desperately for a way to avoid what I knew was coming next, but Harry's arms wrapping around my waist and picking me up in an embrace ruined any plan of running.

"Blondie Michaels, that is way too much cleavage for a lady," he said, placing me down and kissing my forehead. I smiled, licking my lips and shrugging.

"Call me the town whore, I'll embrace it," I shrugged, my eyes flicking quickly to the woman behind him then back to his perfect lilypad eyes.

"Never that, you look beautiful, D. I um, I wanna introduce you to someone," he turned to the blonde, calling her over as I swallowed, "Goldie, this is Taylor, Taylor this is my best friend Goldie, or D for short."

I held out my hand, which was met with clear distaste and weak hold, "Pleasure." She spoke, pressing her lips into a tight forced smile.

My hand fell back down to my side, my entire night shifting into a direction I hadn't spent the past few hours mapping out in my head. I needed another drink, or three. My eyes quickly moved to find Leigh's already on mind, and without further explanation she was moving over to me and linking our arms.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Michaels owes me another shot," we smiled, pulling away from the situation and I was thankful when she directed me towards my bedroom instead of the bar. Footsteps followed, Zayn soon joining my other side and wrapping his arm around both of us.

"I told him not to bring her," Zayn said as we entered the room, my lip caught between the tight grip of my teeth.

"Is he fucking dumb? Or on something. He has to be on something," Leigh said towards Zayn as I paced back and forth in front of the vanity.

"No, just a bloody idiot. But to be fair, they both are," Zayn said, I stopped walking instantly, my head snapping in his direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Zayn. I would never bring a date...not on an night like tonight." I said sternly, my breath making chest inflate, unsure how to breathe it out properly without crying. I felt the warmth of my eyes, tears slowly spilling as I reached up to wipe them away.

"Hey, hey, D, I'm sorry...I know you ain't...I'm just saying, you bo—.."

"— I was going to tell him tonight." I breathed out quietly, a soft sob coming from me. I inhaled sharply through my nose, tossing my head back to try and stop the path my tears wanted to fall on.

"You what?" Leigh exclaimed, quickly in front of me, gripping my arms, "Babe, look at me."

I swallowed my cry, looking down at Leigh's eyes and shrugging, "Obviously this is deeply one sided and for the best. I feel less of an idiot now than I would have as I handed him over my heart and he let it drop." I moved from her grip, clearing my throat, "Let's go. We only have a couple hours until the New Year, I'm not wasting it on tears."

I pushed past them, hearing their calls for my name, but all I saw was red. Red anger, red hurt, red disappointment. I was a menace the rest of the night, drinking more than I planned, avoiding Harry at all costs. Our interactions were short, yet his eyes seemed to linger on me the more I ignored him. They were burning my skin with their gaze and I thrived in it. I knew it was driving it insane and I was happy that it was.

He glared softly at me everytime I ignored Taylor, acting like she was invisible. Serving shots got everyone but forgetting hers. Asking her to take group photos but always forgetting to switch so she could be included. I was becoming the person I hated being around. I was becoming a replica of my ex sorority sister as they froze me out of the chapter.

But I was hurting, my heart slowly falling and shattering into pieces along the floor of this part; it was stepped on and demolished further as time went by.

"D," I heard his voice behind me as I made myself another vodka cran.

"Hmm?" I barely muttered out, taking a long sip of my drink, turning in his direction. We weren't alone for long, Taylor coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

His brows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, he was angry, I could tell by the way his lips pursed, "Nothing."

"Great," I pressed my lips into a smile, brushing past them, my shoulder hitting against Taylor as I did. I downed my drink, searching the room for a distraction. Any distraction. Leigh was grinding on Zayn, his lips preoccupied with her neck, Niall and Olive finally managing to figure out they liked each other enough to sit on the back couch and make out. My eyes scanned the room landing on Louis.

My ex hook up Louis that Harry hated more than anything in the world.

My feet were dragging me in his direction before common sense could hit, before I could think of a reason why I should stop.

"Hey fucker," I smirked, throwing my hair over my left shoulder, his eyes meeting mine for a time that couldn't even be measured in comparison to how they lingered on my chest.

"Michaels, ain't this a fuckin' surprise," he smirked, bringing his bourbon to his lips.

"I'm full of them sometimes," I winked, feeling like an utter idiot as I went through the motions of what I was doing.

"I see you let the puppy if it's leash for the night. Heard Taylor's been wanting to sink her claws in for a while, can't believe she managed to get him away from you," he smirked, licking his lips, waiting on my reaction.

"Realized I hate beggars," I said nonchalantly, a chuckle slipping his lips. He moved towards me, his hand slipping around to the small of my back, pulling me tight against him. He breathed into my neck, making me swallow.

"That's cause you like to do the begging, sweets, I 'avent forgotte'," he kissed my neck, flush traveling over my face. I peeked my eyes up at him, feeling a heat grow between us, my face inching up so our lips could meet when I heard a voice so angry it rattled me from the inside.

"Goldie. Outside, now!" I heard Harry's voice boom, quickly turning to face him.

"Excuse me?" I said, my face I could feel, red hot from anger of him ordering me around after what he did.

"Woof," Louis called out behind me, earning a deep inhale from me.

Harry let out a frustrated growl, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him toward the back, I quickly broke free from his grip, pushing past him and leading the way, refusing to be handled in the manner he thought was acceptable. I didn't realize how fast I was moving until he called out for me.

"Slow the fuck down! Goldie fucking stop!"

"What he fuck do you want from me, Harry? What do you want?" I said my voice raising, every bit of composure I had managed to fake slowly starting to leave me.

"I want to know what the fuck your problem is with me tonight? Why you're being such a fucking....such a —..."

"— what? Bitch? Say it, Harry. Say it like you have any balls left." I yelled back.

"Yes, D, you're being a fucking bitch to me and to Taylor. She hasn't done fucking done anything to you. For fucks sake, all I did was walk through the door ready to spend my last New Year's Eve with my best friend for a while...."

I scoffed, pulling at my hair, "Oh you're so,...and how did you plan on doing that? One hand around my waist and the other around hers? Dancing sandwiched between two blondes, oh I bet you like that idea. Now what happened at midnight in your little fantasy? Huh? You kissed her and then got some second hand high from me? Huh? God I feel like such a fucking idiot! A damn idiot!" I cried, slowly losing my mind, losing my ability to remember that I wasn't supposed to break in front of him. I couldn't fight the tears anymore.

"Hey, hey, hey...." His voice softened so quickly, his hands gripping on my arms to stabilize me, "D, baby D, come on, talk to me, please I'm going insane here."

I shook my head, trying to break from him stumbling back, his arms quickly wrapping around my waist holding me up, "Goldie, please."

"I...I was going to...I...." I cried, my gaze meeting his, through fuzzy tear filled eyes I swallowed, "You. You're the problem. You are your beautiful chestnut curls and lily pad eyes. God, I love you, you damn idiot. Why did you walk in here with her? Why her and not me? Wh—..." I was interrupted by his lips finding mine, finding a rhythm that was so messy, so needy for the next beat.

He broke away from me, pressing his forehead into mine, heavy breaths coming from both of us, "You are an idiot," he chuckled, "but so am I; because I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. And I'm sorry. I couldn't face what tonight meant. I couldn't face my true feelings, so I invited Taylor. I felt like if I directed what I wished tonight was to her instead of you, it would hurt less when I left. It would hurt less to never have called you mine."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head, "No, I've always been yours. And you've always been mine. I...I can't have you leave without knowing that," I took in his soft expression, the tears now forming in his eyes and my lips quickly met his again. Hands gripping at skin that felt so right. That seemed to mold into each other so perfectly.

"Come here," he whispered against my lips, hand linking with mine as he led me down to the boathouse near the lake. He moved quickly, pushing open the door and leading me inside. I watched as he jumped into the small sailing boat, holding his hand out to me as I climbed in behind him. He laid us down on the tarp that protected the boat, his fingers tangling into my hair.

Our kisses were now opened mouth, tongue finding each other in a tangled mess, skimming along the roofs of each. My hands slipped under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, he shimmed out of it as I untucked his tank, I wanted him in every way, and after four years I wasn't wasting any time.

"Help me, Harry. Please," I begged in a whiny voice. Louis was right, I loved begging, but only because I knew the result. He groaned, into my mouth, breaking the kiss to quickly undo his pants, my fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt and slipping it off of him. His fingers moved to my dress once his pants were off, reaching around to unzip me, fingers tugging my dress down, lips soon meeting my chest, hands pushing my tits together so that he could get his mouthful of both.

I moaned in pleasure, my head knocking back, mind lost in the idea that this was finally happening. Every dirty dream and fantasy I had of him was coming to life.

"I've dreamed about this, D. I've dreamed about what cherry vanilla tasted like, and god baby it tastes like a damn dream," he bit into my skin, making me arch into him, our skin creating a delicious friction.

"You haven't even had your mouthful yet, H," I whispered, my eyes locking with his as my hand squeezed between us, my fingers moving down my body, lifting my dress and moving into the band of my thong. I was greeted by a pool of arousal that started just for him, bringing it back up, gently pushing it into his mouth, "This is how it actually tastes."

My whispers were met with his eyes rolling back as his lips closed around my fingers, licking and sucking them clean. I pulled them out as his lips popped on release.

"Bloody fucking hell, Goldie Michaels, I'm about to fucking bust," he breathed, making a chuckle escape me. He smirked, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, as his hands pushed my dress up, releasing my lip to push my dress over my head. His eyes traveled down my body, his pupils seemed to dilate as he went, a hunger behind them soon finding their way back to mine.

"You know what I think about often? I thought about it just today actually. Your formal, that dance floor," he inhaled sharply, his hand pressing down on my hip, dragging his fingers back into my ass, kneading at it, "The way your hips pushed into me, the way I could have slipped that dress up to your waist, fit right in," he swallowed, his voice a low grumble almost. His hand pulled back, smacking my ass before kneading the pain away.

My heart raced in my chest, remembering that night, the way it was ruined just as his lips pressed into my neck, just as he was doing now. He sucked on my skin in between each kiss, up to my jawline. I whined as he ran his nose softly along it, "I would have let you. Welcomed it."

I pushed my hips forward, pressing him slightly flat, lowering onto his bare, hard cock. I adjusted myself so I could press my cunt down along his shaft, grinding it up and down his length. He reached down, moving my thong to the side, letting my wet cunt fully meet him.

"Were you as ready for me as you are now? So sweet, and wet without me even doing much?" He whispered into my ear, his thumb pressing down on my clit, making my hips jolt forward, his other hand gripping at my hip, helping me continue my movements on him.

"Mmm, mhm. Harry, I think my cunt's always been ready for you. I think it was made for you," I licked my lips, glancing down at him, then to the mess I was making, "Look at how much it cries for you, begs you to fill me up. Fill me up Harry, please."

"I have other things I need to tend to first, Goldie," He smirked, flipping us over so I was on my back, his body shifting between my legs. He placed a hand on either side of my hips, fingers looping around the band of my underwear, yanking them off me and throwing them to the side. He placed my left leg on his shoulder, kissing a path down my calf, down to under my knee and back around to my inner thigh, letting it bend over his shoulder. His nose trailed a path up to my belly button and back down, ending his journey with a soft kiss on my clit. Chills crept over my stomach as he continued to tease me, hitting it softly with his nose, moving it from side to side along it.

I heard myself whine, my legs squirming as he moved to tighten his grip on my hips, keeping me in place. He was making me feel frustrated, more than I already was feeling, "Harry, please..."

"Please what, baby D, you never had a problem with words. Why now?" He said against my cunt, his warm breath making my thigh clench.

"I need your face between my legs, please." I begged, completely whiny, completely about to lose my mind.

"It's already between your legs, you have to be more specific. I'm an idiot, remember?" He cooed, his fingers digging further into my hips, his nose dragging a bit of arousal up my stomach.

"Tell me how good cherry vanilla tastes, H. Remind yourself how good it tastes," I moaned out, shoving his face back against my cunt. I could feel the smile on his lips as he began lapping at my wet center. His tongue pushing flat against my middle, curling in a manner that shouldn't be allowed by any human being. He sucked on my swollen clit, creating a fountain of curse words from me as he did.

"Fu-uck, Harry, god..." I moaned, my fingers tangling into his hair, pulling at the roots causing him to groan against me.

Harry's POV

I was in fucking heaven, I felt like i was literally in the act of physically fucking heaven. She tasted so sweet on my tongue, her juices covering my chin as they dripped down her cunt that desperately wanted me. I pulled back, licking my lips as I looked up at her, her face a lovely shade of red that I had never seen on her cheeks. I took my hand, slowly moving a finger inside of her, feeling her walls pulse against them, my prick hard at the idea of her cunt squeezing itself around it in the same manner. I curled my finger forward, my digits searching for her soft center, her soft pleasure point that I knew I found by her delicious mewls. She was so whiny and needy and I couldn't get enough.

Biting at her inner thighs as I slipped in another digit, curling them more and more as I pulled them in and out of her, "Imagine taking my cock with that cunt, you take my fingers so well, I can't imagine you wrapped around me, fuck, D."

I slipped another finger in, three fingers fucking her as she palmed at her own breast, twisting her nipples and adding to her own pleasure. I knew she wasn't shy, I knew how sexual my best friend could be, but it had never been for me.

"Harry...I am so close...please don–dont, fuck yes...," she cried out, her legs starting to tremble, my lips quickly adding suction to her clit, helping her get where she wanted quicker. Her hand hit the side of the boat, gripping at the tarp as she came, her juices spilling out for me, giving me my last meal of the year. I pulled my fingers out of her, licking at her opening, pushing my tongue in and lapping up everything she gave. Her legs lazily relaxed around me, I pushed up her body, kissing along the scars from past incidents that told her own story. That made her my Goldie.

"Open, baby D, lemme show you how good you taste," I said, pressing my fingers to her lower lip as she opened her mouth; my three fingers slipped in, pushing down on her tongue, a soft gag coming from her before, my lips kissing along her jaw, "Mmm, fucking good girl."

I dragged my fingers out of her mouth, down her neck, choking her softly, "Tell me what you want now, it's all about you tonight, only you."

"Fuck me," she gasped.

"Mmm, I don't know if you really want it..." I teased, my hand moving to my cock, slowly fucking my fist as I watched her squirm under my hold.

"Fuck your love into me, Harry Styles. Fuck me so good I can't stop confessing my love to you. Please. Please, for your good girl," she said, so sweetly and whiny it was so dirty. I positioned both her legs on my shoulders, lining myself up and slipping inside her, bottoming out, her nails digging into my bare back, dragging down as I held my position, not moving, not giving her anything other than the feeling of being completely filled by me. Her head knocked back, a gasp escaped her that never seemed to return.

She pulled my face down to hers as it tossed forward, whimpering against our kiss, her chest heavy with her breath as I slowly pulled out, pushing all the way in again, "God you take me so...fucking...good," I gasped with each thrust, she was squeezing me so well. I placed my hands on either side of her, using them as leverage to lift higher, her legs wrapping around me letting me know I was hitting her G spot. Knowing I wasn't missing it, not even once.

She broke the kiss, clinging onto me and kissing my neck, biting at my skin, moaning into it as I found my face, her walls fluttering around me. She was milking me for everything I was worthy and I didn't know how I hadn't seen her bright light sooner. How I didn't realize how my Goldie was just that, mine.

I pushed up and away from her, locking eyes with her pretty brown eyes, smiling as I took in her beauty, her sweetness, the sly smile appearing on her face. I slowed my strokes, carefully moving her legs off my shoulders, I wanted to be close to her, I wanted to press into her. I lowered my body, placing my arms on either side of her head.

"I love you, my Goldie girl. My baby D. You feel that, feel how much I love you?" I said with each thrust, my left arm moving down over her shoulder, down to her breast, cupping it, kneading it, twisting at her perfectly perked up nipple.

She moaned, nodding softly, her hands traveling over my body, "I do, H. God, i love you." She leaned forward, pulling my cross pendant into her mouth, wrapping it around her tongue, before releasing it, "She touched that. But it's mine, just like you, mine."

She moaned out as her hips swiveled up into me, our thrusts meeting each other blissfully. Her walls fluttered around me, letting me know how close she was.

"I am, all yours baby, fuck, all yours," I groaned, kissing her messily, my tongue rubbing along the roof of her mouth.

"Claim me, Harry. Fill me full of you. God I wanna feel you dripping out of me, H," she whined, my hips bucking quicker. I felt the tingle build in my lower spine, my legs beginning to lose their stability, a groan building in my chest.

"Yeah, full of me, D? Is that what you would think about? Me feeling you full?" I said, my eyes hard on hers, her head nodding quickly.

"Please, H, god I need it, please," she begged. She was so damn sexy when she begged, "Ha-Harry imma, oh go-od..."

I kissed her again, thrusting as I felt her walls tighten around me, her sweet arousal covering me completely, dripping down both of us, "Fuck baby, yes.." I moaned, bottoming out as I filled her up, shooting ropes of my mess inside of her.

She whined at the feeling, whimpering and taking hold of my ass, pushing me further in her. I chuckled, pressing a kiss into her forehead, "Are you trying to seal the deal baby? Trying to keep me around?"

"Mmm, daddy Styles has a ring to it," she giggled, shuddering softly. I chuckled, catching my breath and kissing her forehead again, then her nose.

"Come with me?" I whispered.

"I already did," she giggled and I laughed, pressing a kiss into her lips. I pulled out slowly, kissing my way down her body, licking at her nipples, down her stomach. I reached her cunt, lapping up the delicious mixture of her and I, cleaning along her thighs.

"No, Goldie," I kissed her cunt, moving back up to her mouth, kissing her, letting her taste us together, "Come with me to London. I can't be without you. Not anymore."

"H..." she started and I kissed her again, deeply, meaning every bit of it.

"Just think about it."

"Okay."

#harry styles #fanfic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x original character #phh #best friend!harry #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry smut #prince hair harry #harry ff