#harry styles naked

[louisplumpyass]

THIS IS SO BAD FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH

#louis tomlinson #harry styles #WHY IS YOUR MAN NAKED ALL THE TIME STOP RUBBING ON HIM ONG #larry #louis and harry #larry stylinson #stylinson #harry and louis #larries #daddy louis #shirtless louis #one direction #one direction fandom

[watchmegetobsessed]

are you guys thinking the same thing as me?

#bc i think this is how he looks at you #all spread out on his bed naked #he is just about to fuck you into oblivion #but he takes a moment to admire you #before he completely destroys your pussy #so are you guys thinking the same thing? #harry styles

[im-goin-mad]

okay so this is super uncomfortable but does ANYONE remember what that extremely popular larry fanfic was where louis had bpd and was bullying harry and then they fell in love anyway and if you do can you please tell me what it's called lmao

#because i feel like I might have #bpd #and i can't stop thinking about that #like don't get me wrong #i do NOT ship #larry #larry stylinson #but that was like 2018 and yeaah #help this is so ominous #harry styles #louis tomlinson #one direction #fanfic #fanfiction #larry fanfiction #i sleep naked #(maybe?) #1d

[bumblingbabooshka]

Processing some things

Also the fact that he's crouching with his hands on his knees is so cute to me for some reason?? He does this in another episode too - the one where Chakotay finds a symbol on an unknown planet...it's just so adorable to me. He could just lean down but no. Also of course his fingers are spread again - GOTTA utilize the whole hand whenever you do ANYTHING (if you're Tuvok)

#anyway. he's so pretty I'm gonna bite my arm off spongebob style. #Tuvok in the Maquis: I'm gonna spy on these criminals but also?? I'm gonna try out a new eyeshadow look. #Tuvok calling Neelix 'sir'....one and only time v_v treasure it Neelix #Do these replicators make clothing? (yes.) Will they make me a uniform like yours~?? (No. They most CERTAINLY will NOT. <3) #<- also Neelix is naked and Tuvok brought him a towel in a way that was very theatric but also very 'lets dry you off' #like...not just handing it to him #I love Neelix's scrappier early seasons vibe <3<3 #I also like whenever he was like 'GOD these Starfleet people are a bunch of BABIES...eat the damn leola root. It's good for you~!' #I FROGOT KES WAS HELD CAPTIVE BY THE KAZON???? KES ARE YOU OK??? #Kes: I'm told I'm too curious...it's my worst quality~ <- and then the writers never let her out of sickbay #In my ideal world Kes & Neelix are like brother and sister (harkens back to Neelix's lost family and gives a slightly more sympathetic #reason for his overprotectiveness which would now not be romantic jealousy but still something he had to let go of for them to truly be #friends) and also Kes tried every work station aboard Voyager...every episode she's somewhere new but her MAIN job is still in sickbay #Kes is in a pseudo cult and she said nu uh I believe in a different pseudo cult and I love that for her #Kes: I don't want to be dependent on the caretaker!! (reasonable) Our people have magical mind's abilities that allow us- (ok Kes) #just bc she was right doesn't mean it's not a WILD thing to think HEhehehe #SNRKEHEHEHE HARRY STOP TOM CAN'T TAKE THIS #Tom: How can I let down the only friend I've got~? / Harry: Friend? What makes you think I'm your friend~? / Tom: -sobbing into his pillow- #Neelix saying 'Well...the fool needs company!' ok <3 I'm twirling my hair a little....got a bit of rizz... #literally an hour ago he was willing to leave them all for dead and now look at him #OUG hTom Paris the racism....ough the racism...not even the fantasy alien kind.......oaaau ugh oh it hurts the real world racism..... #TOM NO STOP TALKING!!! TO M NO THE RACISM - TOM PARIS !! TOOOOM!!!!! <- walter white screaming meme #(remembers its Harry's FIRST mission) a different kind of pain.... #Janeway and Tuvok holding hands: We're so fucking doomed. This is a terrible position and we have to do what's morally right but #by doing this we're going to be trapped here - maybe for the rest of our lives and not just us but the entire crew. But we have to #do this horrible thing BECAUSE we're good people. #<- not enough attention is paid (including by me bc I forgor) to the fact that Tuvok was with Janeway when she made that decision #and backed her up...just a sad little moment to themselves #OOF Tom...three for three on the racism....TOM #Neelix's sales pitch...yeeAAAH~!!

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

For the upcoming live-action Metal Gear Solid movie starring Oscar Isaac, I have this feeling that if the series somehow gets to Snake Eater, the original song will be used during the movie, but a cover by a popular artist will play during the credits.

But it has to be an artist who can do a decent cover of Snake Eater. Someone like Adele, Lady Gaga, or Harry Styles.

#metal gear solid #metal gear #snake eater #metal gear solid 3 #metal gear solid snake eater #naked snake #revolver ocelot #eva #the boss #big boss #konami #hideo kojima #oscar isaac #Adele #lady gaga #harry styles #mgs #mgs snake

[ionlycrylightning]

they grow up so fast

#alex turner #drugs #emo #scene queen #:3 uwu #rawr xd #colonoscopy #rectum #kidnapped teen found naked and sealed in garbage bag accused of making story up – sparking fury #maroon 5 #im harry styles

[releaseholiday]

.

#I just realized what the ‘he’s mocking his het image’ argument reminded me of aldksjdh #‘Harry Styles reacts to het rumors by creating more het rumors’😭😭 #posting a pic of him in bed with almost naked girls on his ig to promote this video…besties that’s not how you fight your het image #hl really need some new people in their teams

[singeratlarge]

MONDAY MATINEE MUSIC VIDEO “Love is All” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMTi2mFylYc Dreamy synth-pop song-crafting + sublime vocal and keyboard work. On a cosmic jukebox this ballad would play next to Naked Eyes, Gerry Rafferty, Harry Styles, and “Take My Breath Away” (Berlin). If this is your introduction to Chris Andrews, he’s a British singer-songwriter and recording artist whose songs have been covered by Roger Daltrey, David Essex, and Davy Jones (Monkees). Under the name Tim Andrews he was a champion of late 60s psychedelic pop and (later), as Kris Ryder, he released New Wave synthpop sides in the 80s. Chris was also part of the seminal freakbeat band Fleur de Lys. Meanwhile, check out what he’s doing now! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMTi2mFylYc

#chrisandrews #timeandrews #synthpop #nakedeyes #gerryrafferty #harrystyles #berlin #rogerdaltrey #davidessex #davyjones #monkees #krisryder #singersongwriter

#johnny j blair #singer songwriter #music #pop rock #monkees #davy jones #chris andrews #Tim Andrews #synthpop #Naked Eyes #Gerry Rafferty #Harry Styles #Berlin #Roger Daltrey #David Essex #Davy Jones #Monkees #Kris Ryder

[louisplumpyass]

FUCK YES FUCK YES FUCK YES I FUCKING WANT THIS MAN ON TOP OF ME ISTG

#BLESS YOU ALL FOR MAKING THIS HAPPEN #i deserved this #louis tomlinson #harry styles #we got your man naked harry how does it feeeeel??? #larry #louis and harry #larry stylinson #stylinson #harry and louis #larries #daddy louis #tank top louis #shirtless louis #one direction #one direction fandom

[gamermattsgf]

Dirty little monster // Chris and Matt

Warnings: threesome filth / lowkey toxic relationship plot?? / ownership kink / degradation Chris / praiser Matt / cunnilingus / doggy / wrist restraints / unprotected sex / blindfold kink / manhandling / missionary / exhibitionist kink / brief mention of somnophilia / Eiffel Tower position / blowjob / edging / jealousy + possession kink / female stimulation / spit kink / slapping / hair pulling

Summary: Chris and Matt know the deal. They’re supposed to share you, but sometimes that idea gets in the way of their individual feelings, especially in situations like these…

Author’s notes: finally the threesome you’ve all been waiting for. If this is not your cup of tea PLEASE just scroll!! You guys are probably sick of the amount of goddamn warnings that come my shit hahaha. Also, happy late birthday present for @sturnsmadl I hope u like ur gift baby.

“You’re a dirty little monster, a coked up little pop tart… can’t keep your head out your dreams” - Too Much Sauce, Harry Styles

‘Fuck… Matt…’ you pant, your head twisted to the side as you feed your bottom lip into your teeth. The harsh pressure you exert upon it almost makes it split, the stinging sensation helping to distract you from Matt’s face that pries open your inner thighs.

His own lips look dewy and puffed, his tired eyes sleepy but alluring as the pale bags underneath them exemplify his chalky blue rings. Just showered and shaved, the smell of his cologne is almost intoxicating when it feeds itself up into your nose and diffuses across your senses. It’s sharp and citrusy and fits his clean cut personality perfectly like a breath of fresh air.

His hair is still slightly wet, and strands trace damp streaks over your stretch marks when his tongue gifts open mouthed kisses to your clit.

He presses himself so close to your throbbing sensitivity that you can barely see his face and eyes because they’re covered with his scruffy brunette hair.

You can’t help but rut your hips onto his nose as your back arches, the whine peeping from your throat breathless and needy whilst he grinds himself into the mattress. He just can’t help himself as the bed shakes backwards and forwards. Every couple of seconds you have to readjust your thighs around his head and when you do the rough skin where his beard grows grazes against the plushness of your flesh.

‘You like that sweet girl?’

The voice you hear is not Matt’s, because he is too busy licking away at your velvety slickness. But Chris’. He sits with his back against the headboard, and your back propped up against his bare chest. You lie, nestled in between his two spread thighs that are clothed over with grey sweats and subtly squeeze against your thick hips after every time you arch your back from off of his stomach.

You yourself are fully naked, with your tits out and resting softly on your chest, until Chris’ larger hands slither up your ribcage and cup them gently, his thumbs rubbing over your stiffened nipples. The pleasure from both ends is almost too much, and a hot rush flurries over your cheeks when you allow yourself to throw your head back and lean it into the crook of his shoulder.

Chris smirks as he watches the top of Matt’s head moving from in between your silky thighs intently, mesmerised by the way he swirls his tongue and causes whimpers to claw their way up your throat. He gets off on watching Matt eat you out because it’s almost as if he’s watching a high definition sex tape of himself eating you out.

‘S’Matt treating you well baby…? Making you feel good huh?’.

He presses his lips to your temple gently before pinching your nipples and loving the way you squirm at the sensation. He then kisses the side of your head softly. ‘Y-yes’ you moan, your calves sliding up and over Matt’s shoulder blades to give him better access whilst your hands grapple to squeeze against Chris’ sweatpants. Matt grunts at Chris’ praise of his work whilst lathering his tongue over your spongy nerve messily.

‘Yeah? His mouth making you wanna come?’

Chris speaks for Matt so that Matt can keep working against your clit, his face rocking backwards and forwards over your cunt as his hands come to splay about the tops of your thighs. You can feel the way Matt’s cheeks apple when he smirks at what Chris says, because he knows it’s true, and he knows his tongue has the ability to make you unravel at his fingertips.

‘Please’ is all you can heave whilst craning your neck forwards once again to look at Matt.

‘That’s my good girl, so polite aren’t you?’

Chris coos once again from behind you. Suddenly Matt pulls his heavenly tongue away from his teasing so that he can spit a string of saliva all over your dripping folds. He leers upwards which makes your calves fall from his shoulders. Lazily, they plant themselves back down onto the mattress at his sides as his saliva seeps down you slit. He raises his eyebrows incredulously at Chris, before licking his lips and flicking his dilated pupils back to yours.

‘Our good girl’ he corrects bitingly, before leaning over from his position in between your spread legs to smooth his lips onto yours. He bites your bottom one gently and sighs into the kiss whilst pushing his tongue through the barrier of your teeth.

Whilst Matt kisses you, Chris finds it necessary to let one of his hands delicately trail down your navel, only to slide in between your folds and stroke your slimy clit, saturated in Matt’s saliva.

Chris practically cradles you to himself within his larger frame as you crumple back into him in pleasure.

You uncontrollably moan into Matt’s mouth at the rough pads of his long fingers moving in slow concentric circles whilst he manoeuvres his lips to the side of your neck, just so that he isn’t missing out on the action. ‘Love my fingers touching you like that, don’t you baby?’ He teases, lusting after the feeling of your hot clit easily skimming against his fingertips. He doesn’t just kiss your neck though, he bites and sucks it, each time pulling away to see how much darker he has the purple roses blooming on your flesh.

He likes it that he’s the one who’s now making you whine, not Matt, so grins deviously into your neck.

All of you know the agreement. Matt and Chris are supposed to share you, but sometimes each one of them can’t help but want you to themselves. And sometimes they do take you for themselves. Matt had you in the shower last week, and Chris had you in the coat cupboard the other day. But the catch is that they do it secretly - behind each other’s backs - not that you mind. It just means that you get more out of the deal than them. So you just don’t tell them.

The three of you know that this is a toxic relationship you share, and a toxic cycle at that… but you’re all addicts, and you can’t help but crawl back to each other after every single time you give into these frivolous sexual desires.

Chris is a selfish fuck, but Matt is an obsessive one. Both of them are possessive, and whenever you three are together it is a constant competition to see which one of them can make you cry harder, moan louder, cum quicker. They can’t help but be competitive when around you, because they want to feel like their cock pleases you more, stretches you out thicker and fills you up the most.

With that being said, as you moan softly into Matt’s face, he’s envious that your lips get lazy and languid with their kissing motions. I mean… you’re barely even trying to make out with him anymore, and it’s all Chris’ fault. So he fixes that by scooping his cupped hands underneath your armpits in the heat of his jealous moment.

He always has a couple of those when you three fuck together.

He detaches you from his mouth and lifts you high up enough to be thrown over Chris’ thigh and into the centre of the bed. This therefore also rips Chris away from you and he huffs in annoyance when Matt clambers over him to get to your body.

You lie in the centre of the bed in helplessness, your cheeks an embarrassed red and your thighs shyly clamped together in modesty because of the way Chris and Matt look at you. They devour you with their eyes… their pupils peeling apart each section of your skin and feasting on it. And you just know that when they’re done with using you, they’re going to be licking their sticky fingers clean of your honeyed mess.

‘Fuck, look at you, all wet and needy for us. You’re so pretty…’ Matt muses whilst admiring you before he’s bending his torso over and peeling his cropped blue shirt from off of his back. This reveals his smooth skin, and now he matches Chris in attire, until Chris sees that he’s evened the odds and decides to take off his sweats so that now he’s only in his underwear.

You blink and place your palm over your eyes in humiliation. ‘Stop’ you whine slightly at his praise, and it makes it even worse when Chris decides to join in too. ‘You greedy baby… wanting both of our cocks at the same time, you’re such a little cum slut aren’t you? Naughty girl. What’re we gonna do with her Matt?’.

Chris smirks as he looks over to a Matt that has to purse his own lips together to suppress his grin, his chest rising and falling as he debates on how they’re going to take you today.

There’s a moment of silence before Matt presumably has an idea.

‘Go get one of your bandanas Chris…’ he requests, nodding his head towards one of the shelves in the room that had Chris’ various bandanas draped over the top of it. You swallow nervously as Chris catches onto Matt’s idea. With a cheeky glint in his eyes he withdraws from the bed, ‘sure thing Matt…’.

Matt watches him for a second before turning his attention back to you as he fumbles with his Diesel belt buckle. You watch attentively as his spindly fingers wrap around the clanging metal, the leather expertly being pulled through the clasp. Then he’s opening it and slowly sliding it out from his belt loops. The agonising pace is to tease you, of course, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

‘I haven’t stopped thinking about using this on you since the last time it happened’ Matt reminisces, and it takes you back to that one time you three had been fooling around, and Chris and Matt had used their belts on you. One belt had been tied to a wrist and an ankle each. This had spread you open and allowed them to fuck you from behind, as they took turns to hitch your hips up and keep you still for them.

‘Can I do it again baby, will you let me tie you up? Please… it’ll be so pretty I promise’ he begs whilst the floorboards creak under Chris’ footsteps. His black bandana is slung in his right hand lazily as he makes his way back to the bed, just in time for you to give in and nod with agreement.

‘Whatever you want Matt.’ You mumble submissively with a little seductive smile. It drives him fucking feral to the point of insanity when you do that, he had only had his lips on you just minutes ago but now he wanted to do it all over again.

His mouth waters for your sweetness, your pre-come, the wetness leaking from your folds that he creates with his tongue.

You squirm about to position yourself on your knees, before leaning up and arching your back. You bury your face into the pillows at the top of the bed and give Matt an eye-full of your pulsating core whilst you lift your wrists to rest them together on your tailbone.

Matt’s cock is so fucking hard and so fucking sore, he’s definitely saturated under all of his layers, just as he’s sure Chris is too, because he also gawks at you and licks his lips when Matt shuffles up to your behind. From there, he loops his belt around your flimsy wrists. You hiss slightly when he knots it tightly, his biceps flexing and his nose scrunching. Simultaneously, Chris decides to shuffle up towards your head.

‘Look up for me a sec baby’ he demands you softly by patting your hair, and you do as your told, only to immediately have your vision obscured when Chris forces the bandana over your face and onto your eyes. You twist your head helplessly and whine a little when Matt forces your hips downwards into the mattress.

Your stomach roughly hits the mattress at his manhandling and your legs give out underneath you.

‘Turn around for us honey’. It’s Chris speaking again, you recognise the tone of his voice so you try to look in the general direction of it but to no avail. You wriggle around with great difficulty what with having your wrists restrained behind your back, and as you do, you also hear the small sound of Matt’s zipper scratching against the seam of his jeans. He’s taking them off.

‘W-what are you gonna do to me?’ You mumble nervously, now sitting on your ass with your legs crossed awkwardly so that you aren’t completely spread out and on display in front of them. Something about having a blindfold on and having your sense of sight completely eliminated made you jittery, especially when you couldn’t tell who’s cold hand was playfully skimming up your bare thigh.

‘We’re gonna play a little game, aren’t we Chris?’ Matt speaks, his voice nearest to you ear, so you assume that he’s the one who has just trailed his hand up your skin.

‘What kind of game?’ You swallow nervously, trying your best to look up at Matt, but you no longer feel his warm presence beside you and so you furrow your eyebrows underneath the bandana.

‘Simple. You try and guess who it is that’s touching you. You guess correctly you can have your orgasm, you don’t… we’re allowed to edge you’ Matt explains, before clarifying with an ‘s’that fair princess, hm?’.

The princess name has you blushing. You love it when Matt calls you princess.

After fucking them a couple of times, you realised each one had different tastes. Chris seemed to like degradations, and using methods of ownership to get you to your high, he liked things rough and fast and even sometimes couldn’t help his wandering hands that frequently reached out to playfully slap your thighs or face whilst he buried himself inside of you.

Matt was vastly different, he took the very definition of the word ‘praise’ and ran with it. He was all about the idea of feminine pleasure, and preferred to help you reach your high with words of affirmation and sugary sweet pet names. He liked things slow, sensual, intimate… and sometimes even lazy. Sloppiness and saliva was key whether it be him waking you up in the morning with his mouth on you or him fuck you in the simply position of missionary. He always wanted eye-contact.

Chris fucking lusted dominating you, it didn’t matter how, he just chased that possession of control. Matt wanted to establish connections and soak in physical touches. Which is why you liked having both of them, because it introduced an interesting dynamic to your experimentations. You liked having two people with completely different kinks because in the end they would always come together and use them both on you simultaneously.

The proposition seems easy enough to you, considering the fact that you know both of their bodies like the back of your hand, so you agree, simply just desperate for an orgasm now seeing as Matt had pulled away from your core right before he could give you one earlier.

What you don’t know however, is that Matt and Chris had anticipated this. And so had mutually agreed before this rendezvous that they would completely switch up their tactics to mirror the other one’s sexual habits.

You lie there statically on the bed patiently waiting for someone to viciously attack you with their onslaught of tongues, and soon someone does.

Matt makes eye contact with Chris and nods his head towards you, signalling that he wants to go first. Chris grins and decides to lie down on the other side of the bed whilst Matt crawls up to your awaiting body. He twists his head to look over at the two of you and bites his lip when Matt roughly wrestles you back around and onto your knees. Your breath hitches a little because you’re not expecting it and you almost fall back over trying to balance.

Matt roughly flattens his palm in between your shoulder blades and forces your front downwards so your tits and left cheek are pressed into the duvet cover. Matt uses his knee to kick out your thighs and spread them for him whilst he smooths his hands against your hips. Just as Chris would usually do.

Whilst this is going on, Chris throbs and watches with drool almost falling from his mouth. Matt takes his underwear off and very quickly is able to slide himself into your plushness. The cry you expel is muffled with the soft fabric of the sheets on the bed as his cock stretches you out unexpectedly. Everything feels wet and hot as his prick throbs inside of you before he starts to rock his hips roughly.

Chris can’t help but bury his own hand beneath his underwear to stroke himself whilst he admires the way you get fucked in his favourite position. He loves the way that your hips always swivel and the way your back always arches, even when it’s not him who’s fucking you, it just looks so hypnotic, and he loves watching it happen.

Matt smirks down at you, panting as his hips snap up to hit against your ass rhythmically. Your moans are still quietened but they do a great job at getting both Matt and Chris worked up.

And as much as he hates to admit it, Matt likes this oppertunity to be rough with you in front of Chris, because he knows how jealous Chris gets when he sees him fucking you how he normally likes to fuck you.

Matt then suddenly reaches one of his hands forward to greedily take a fistful of your hair and yank on it, lifting your head up a little and allowing you to now groan into the air. Chris has to roll his eyes back into his head and close them at this, just to suppress the moans he wants to shout, because if he gave in to his temptations it would ruin the game. And he doesn’t want to miss out on his turn to do a better job than Matt.

You feel flurries of pleasure rippling past your thighs after every time Matt’s cock returns and hits the right spot. With your hair pulled back, your voice strains at the awkward angle your neck is tilted at, but you blurt out a laboured ‘C-Chris, it’s Chris isn’t it?’ when your build up starts to get more intense. Matt and Chris stop what they’re doing to grin maliciously at each other, they knew you’d fall for this idea of theirs.

Matt turns back to you, before slowing his thrusts with a ‘guess again sweetheart’ cockily singsonging from his mouth. He’s smug with it as he pulls his cock out of you completely before slapping your ass in playfulness whilst your shoulders deflate.

‘What…?’ You breathe in delirious confusion, so sure that it was Chris because he usually liked to fuck you that way. Guess you were mistaken. But now you’re pouty because that’s the second time you’ve been denied an orgasm. You huff in annoyance whilst Chris giggles. ‘God, are we gonna have to gag you as well? S’that the only thing that’ll keep you quiet? Wonder what the neighbours think…?’.

You bury your head back into the mattress in embarrassment, not being able to help your sensuous sounds. Your cheeks turn pink at Chris’ insult. ‘I’m sorry… I can’t help how good you make me feel’ you mumble, trying to retaliate his harsh words with flattery. Chris likes to have his ego stroked, it comes hand in hand with his ownership kink, he likes to hear how good he makes you feel, so you manipulate that to your advantage to soften his exterior. Chris and Matt make eye contact with each other, knowing what kind of game you’re trying to play with them, so Matt gestures for Chris to have his turn.

You again, sit and wait for someone else to pounce, now in a more conflicted mood than before, knowing that both Chris and Matt are going to make this a lot harder than you first anticipated.

It’s not long before Chris can’t contain himself anymore and he’s practically sprawling over to you with a yearning to finally have your cunt to himself.

He makes sure you have your back fully pressed to the mattress with your cuffed wrists wedged uncomfortably between your back and the sheets. He moves in between your spread thighs, squeezing his hands down the backs of them whilst he opens you up before painting the tip of his red cock right over your throbbing clit.

Your head throws itself back when Chris feeds himself into you, going slowly to make sure you can adjust before he starts to rock his hips, his cock wetly slipping in and out of your already used hole. His figure soon looms over so that his face can nuzzle into your tits, spitting on your nipples and then passing his tongue over them, strings of saliva connecting his lips to your flushed skin. The constant rocking motion is almost too much for you, and you nearly cum by accident, but you hold back.

Instead of cumming though, you yelp instead because suddenly Chris takes one of your nipples into his mouth, only to bite at it harshly. Tears spring into your eyes, too focused on the pleasure and the pain to figure out who the fuck this could be. It could be Chris… but it also could be Matt going again… trying to trick you.

Chris pulls away, only to tip his chin up and look past your head at a Matt that sits and watches the two of you with his lips set into a dissatisfied line, seething with jealousy even though Chris and him had agreed to work together.

He can’t stand sharing you sometimes, and it’s just agony to watch Chris touch something that should be his.

Chris looks directly at him with a challenging gaze once again, a panting smirk on his stupid fucking face after every time he grinds himself forward and elicits a strangle breath from you. ‘Fuck, it hurts…’ you whine breathlessly, your sensitivity so overwhelming after being stretched out by two different cocks. But Chris decides to smooth his hand over your mouth and utter a possessive ‘shh… baby, I know… I know’ gently into your ear as he uses his other hand to stroke gentle circles over your hipbone.

Chris couldn’t help it. He let his voice slip, and that gave you exactly what you needed to guess correctly this time. And thankfully you guess right with a panting ‘Chris! It’s Chris!!’ right up onto the seal of his sweaty hand.

You don’t think you would have been able to suffer through another round of this torture so you are relieved when Chris slips his bandana from off of your head. He grins down at you at throws the forgotten fabric to the floor.

‘Hi sweet girl…’ he coos down to you, still moving his hips up and loving the way your little face screws up cutely in pleasured suspense after every thrust.

He smiles down at you but the moment is rudely interrupted by a Matt that grunts ‘alright that’s enough’ as he moves up to the both of you. He doesn’t want to give Chris the satisfaction of being the only one who’s able to get you off, or the delight of being the one who’s able to cum all over you. ‘I want her gut, you had it last time, s’only fair’ he barks at Chris, and gives his shoulder a brotherly shove to which Chris begrudgingly complies with a roll to his eyes and a subdued sigh.

Even though you love having both of them at the same time, you’ll admit it gets a little irritating when they constantly quarrel over who gets to finish where, especially when you’ve been edged about three times now this time.

‘Guys… p-please can you just let me cum? I don’t fucking care how you do it, just- please!’ You whine like a petulant child, knowing that if they see you’re desperate for them, they’ll listen to you.

‘Fuck, sorry baby. We’re sorry, sweetheart’ Matt immediately dotes upon you by profusely apologising, before coming up to you and spreading his hands over you hips so that he can flip your body over and onto your knees for the last time. ‘Shh, shh, c’mere baby’ he continues as he once again comes up behind you and stuffs you full of his cock. You moan, this time in aggravated pain at how long your aching walls have had to wait whilst Matt uses his quick fingers to finally untie your wrists, his belt loosening ever so slightly before it slides off completely and you can put your arms back onto the mattress.

This allows you to lean up onto your hands whilst Matt starts moving. You come face to face with Chris’ cock and look up between your eyelashes to see the way he smirks down at you hungrily.

‘Go on then pretty, I know how much you like giving me head…’.

You roll your eyes with a glare before succumbing and sliding his perfect thickness right past your teeth, already accustomed to his size because of how much he loves to have you suck him off.

Whilst you work yourself against Chris’ thick skin, you struggle not to choke on him as he starts to teasingly thrust into your face. This pushes himself further down your tight throat. Chris shivers and arches his back, Matt slipping his finger down to your clit so that he can rub it as he finishes you off.

‘Can- can I cum down your throat?’ Chris utters through a groan, asking for your permission to finish.

You nod sweetly and let him, which he does. His cum seeps out stickily from his head and making its way into your mouth almost on command. You suck him a little more to get rid of everything he has before he slaps your cheek a little at his overstimulation. ‘F-fuck- that’s enough baby!’. He carefully slides himself out and watches Matt help you to your own high.

Your neck crooks as you throw your jaw back when Matt continually ruts his hips into you throughout your intensive orgasm.

After you become spent and just as sensitive as Chris, you whine for him to stop, so he pulls out and strokes himself until he too finishes all over your ass, his sticky cum sliding down your hot skin.

All three of you collapse onto the bed in a panting sweaty mess. You lie there and look at Chris who smirks back at you, before casually reaching for his phone and putting in his passcode like nothing had even happened before hand.

Matt reaches out his hand to affectionately trace circles over your back before he’s shuffling around behind you. The bed creaks as he gets up. He leans over you to kiss in between your shoulders blades before mumbling ‘I’ll go get a cloth’ to both you and Chris.

As he walks away, Chris glances down at you, deciding to thread his fingers through your hair and stroke it absentmindedly whilst he clears his throat and quickly shoots a random text to one of his friends.

Both of you melt into the mattress in relaxation, Chris’ fingers scratching your scalp just enough to lull you to sleep after your exhausting escapade with the both of them.

You know you guys should probably stop this. But you can’t. It’s just so addictive… so much so that you think it’s fair enough to title all of you a dirty little monster for enjoying such a filthy fucking thing…

Author’s notes p.2: I’m writing whole ass novels, fuck me bro. Technically the song I used is an unreleased Harry Styles song so only the real ones know how it goes teehee. But anyways, this was literally like- Skye Teller but the 18+ version lol. I lowkey felt so much pressure writing this bc so many people have been fangirling about it, so hopefully (with a little bit of luck) I didn’t disappoint you lovely readers who I love so much for giving my silly little stories attention :). As always, request / ask whatever u want thirsty hoes!!! Until next time 🎀

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luverboychris @luv4kozume @strniohoeee @sturniolosreads @thesturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @strawberrysturniolo @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @chrizznmetswife @i-heart-mattsturniolo @lovergirl4387 @sophie21153-blog

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #threes0me #sub matt sturniolo #mommy k!nk #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

[vivwritesfics]

I'm Having Your Baby

It's None Of Your Business

It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.

(I actually don't like Harry Styles)

Warnings: smut, mention of abortion

The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.

He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.

He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.

She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.

He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.

Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.

But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.

The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.

But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.

But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.

Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.

She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.

It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.

The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.

"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.

Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"

But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.

It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.

It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.

Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.

She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.

"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.

Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.

I remember

That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?

Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.

Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.

He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.

It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?

After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.

I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me

No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.

Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?

Are you keeping it?

Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it

That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.

I want nothing to do with it

She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.

Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.

It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.

Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.

She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.

But it remained unchanged.

"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.

But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."

"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #carlos sainz x you #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

[sleepyhollands]

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

copyright © sleepyhollands. all rights reserved. || my masterlist.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.” 

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon. 

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n. 

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof. 

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. 

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet. 

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion. 

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company. 

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly. 

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out. 

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient. 

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.” 

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again. 

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again. 

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions. 

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips. 

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory. 

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him. 

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad. 

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind. 

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.” 

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break. 

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with. 

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite. 

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern. 

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed. 

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after. 

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy. 

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work. 

they could make this work. 

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes. 

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?” 

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke. 

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this. 

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but. 

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something. 

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed. 

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her. 

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this. 

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips. 

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n. 

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him. 

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds. 

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body. 

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge. 

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while. 

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other. 

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once. 

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later. 

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.  

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest. 

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time. 

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away. 

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior. 

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?” 

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve. 

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit. 

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest. 

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her. 

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.” 

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale. 

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him. 

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

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[gurugirl]

Liar | bfd!harry

Summary: Harry's wife suspects something is going on but she doesn't know what. Harry can't stay away from you and you don't want him to.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, lying, cheating, age gap, angst

bfd!harry masterlist

Harry’s phone kept lighting up from its spot on your bedroom floor. It slid out of his pocket in his haste to take his pants off and get you into your bed. You hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on before you were spread out and naked under him.

You also hadn’t even made your bed that day. Normally you at least pulled the blankets up and placed the pillows at the headboard but it felt like such a daunting task before your date with Evan that you just didn’t bother.

But you didn’t want to think about Evan when you were with Harry after he’d just admitted he loved you.

Harry fingered you slowly as he kept his mouth over yours, “Just wanna keep kissing you. Never want to stop,” he whispered his words into your mouth as he thrusted his thick fingers into you.

And he didn’t stop kissing you. Not when you came on his fingers. Not when he wiped your arousal onto your leg as he positioned himself between your soft thighs. Not when he pushed his dick inside of you. Not when he brought you and himself to orgasm slowly.

His lips were soft but urgent. You came so hard when he glued his hips to yours and rocked into you, never letting his cock slip out too far.

And when he pulled you onto his chest after he landed on his back, he rubbed your spine and kissed your shoulder and your neck, “Never gonna be so careless with you again. Promise you.”

You always loved basking in the afterglow with Harry but this time was different. He had told you he loved you. You both felt it with each movement and each breath. Harry’s hands held your thighs as he pushed in and in and in and it was all love and emotion. He was showing you what he could with his body and you were happy to receive it.

You both fell asleep with smiles on your faces and you woke up hot and sticky on top of him. He was holding you tight. You attempted to move yourself off of him but he only tightened his grip. You heard him grunt, “Stay.”

And that turned into you slipping down onto his hard cock once again, whispering I love yous to one another as your chest stayed pressed to his. The soft rocking of your hips over his with his hands on your ass guiding you over him slowly. The springs in your mattress squeaked gently as his phone illuminated. But it didn’t stop you. It didn’t stop him.

You both kept at it. Until you’d come to your end again. You gasped his name and he groaned, spilling himself into you as deep as he could, lifting his hips and slicking in until it was impossible to reach further into you.

Even on the comedown, his phone lit up.

You both knew it was Mrs. Styles wondering where her husband was. It was nearly 2 am by then. He’d left his house hours ago and hadn’t returned.

“You should text her back so she’s not worried, Harry. At least,” you spoke quietly as you ran your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp. He was still inside of you.

He sighed and grumbled something before lifting you off of him, “I know. I’m just not sure what I’m gonna tell her. I meant to go back home hours ago. It’s late. This is not something I’ve ever done before.”

Obviously. You wanted to say but refrained as you watched Harry get off the bed and bend down to pick up his cell phone. Multiple missed calls and texts.

He sat down on the bed and smoothed his hand up your thigh, “I should probably go. I’ll figure something out to tell her. I’m sorry, pup.”

You sat up and leaned yourself into him, kissing his chest and feeling his come dribble down your thigh as you moved, “It’s okay. I understand.”

.           .           .

Harry was in trouble. He knew it when he woke up in your apartment and realized how late it was. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep but having you in his arms, post orgasm was like a drug that put him under. And throwing caution to the wind he stupidly fucked you again, wasting nearly 25 minutes more, instead of leaving.

He also knew he was in trouble when he pulled into his driveway and saw the lights on coming from his study.

He didn’t have anything in his study that would give him away. Some receipts maybe, but nothing major. And he’d hidden the receipts for anything he bought you very well. He hoped.

The moment the door was closed and the deadbolt latched his wife came quickly out of his study to confront him.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried! Do you not have your phone on you?!”

Harry rubbed his face and realized he could still smell you on his hand. He’d cleaned up but, in his rush, he clearly hadn’t gotten all the traces of you off.

“I just had a bad week, at work, and I needed some air and went to the park near the lake and… I fell asleep in the car. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

And the look on Mrs. Styles’ face told him she didn’t believe him. He was definitely in trouble.

Why would she believe him? It was a terrible lie. Harry really didn’t know what he could tell her. He felt of all the excuses he could come up with (during the 20-minute drive home), the one he decided to go with, while quite outlandish and not particularly believable, was the most believable of them all.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning before you leave for your workout. I’ve put some pillows and blankets on the couch in your study. You can sleep in there tonight.” She turned before pausing and looking over her shoulder at her husband, “I’m glad you’re okay, though.”

Harry felt awful. He hated making his wife worry or having her upset with him. But he deserved her anger.

He’d just been so out of his mind wondering what you were doing on your date he couldn’t see or think straight. He left the house in a rush. He told his wife he was running out and would be back soon. And he intended on returning after a couple of hours at the most. But he’d left around 8 pm and had been gone for over six hours.

And even as guilty and bad as he felt, he slept rather soundly on his couch in his study. Perhaps it was that you’d forgiven him. Or the two orgasms. Both probably.

When he woke up to his phone alarm he smelled coffee already. He knew he was going to need to give her a better explanation. But what could he say? What things could he tell her that would quell her questions? Mrs. Styles was smart. She was no pushover. He couldn’t just act as if whatever happened was no big deal. Not responding to her in all those hours? That was a big red flag.

“How’d you sleep?” His wife was sat at their small dine-in kitchen table sipping her coffee. She was already dressed and ready for the day.

“Pretty good. Was tired. How about you?” He poured himself a mug of coffee and joined her at the table.

“Like shit.” She looked down at her mug and sighed, “You lied to me last night,” She looked back into his eyes. “And that makes me wonder how many other times you’ve lied and I’ve just not noticed it.”

His stomach felt sour. She knew he lied. Of course, his excuse was shit.

Nodding his head he stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say. Of course, if she knew what he’d really been up to their conversation would be going in a very different direction.

“Say something. Tell me what you were doing, Harry.  I deserve to know the truth.”

Inhaling a deep sigh he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been… I don’t know. Maybe I’m going through a mid-life crisis or something. I’m anxious and depressed and it feels like there’s no way out of how I feel–“

His sentence was cut off by her palm coming down sharply on the table and causing his mug to rattle, splashing the hot liquid over the lip of the cup, “Cut the shit! So what? We’re all anxious and depressed Harry!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips as she walked toward the sink and her shoulders dropped before gripping the counter’s edge, “Why didn’t you at least reach out to me? Were you with someone?”

Harry felt he was being choked of air. Was he with someone? Why yes, he was. Someone that he loves in a way he shouldn’t. Someone that he was having sex with while his wife’s calls and texts were being ignored. He felt like he was losing it.

“No. I just needed to be by myself. And I’m sorry I did it that way. I didn’t…” he inhaled to catch his breath, “think. I didn’t think. I wasn’t thinking about you or how you must have felt. I’m sorry. That was selfish.” At least the last part of his excuse wasn’t a lie.

Mrs. Styles turned back to look at her husband as she crossed her arms over her pretty silk shirt, “I know you didn’t think. And I know that I never crossed your mind last night, whatever it is you were doing, you certainly didn’t consider me at all.”

He looked at his wife and blinked his eyes as she stayed cool and steady. She hadn’t been crying. Or at least it didn’t appear that way.

“And I know you’re lying. I can’t explain how I know… I just… I’ve been with you for such a long time that I just know, Harry. And,” she pushed herself from the counter and walked across the kitchen to the hutch where she picked up her keys, “I found a sex toy in a box in your study last night. Care to tell me what that’s for?”

He forgot about that. The toy he bought for you. Forgot that he’d brought it back with him. He’d put it out of his mind, “It was for us. I… we haven’t used a toy in a long time and thought it would be fun–“

Her laugh cut him, “Of course, you’d say that. And how would I know if you were being honest at this point? Just return it. I’ve no intention of letting you use that on me. Not after all this.”

“Hey… I know that you don’t belie–“

“You’re right. I don’t believe you. Not right now. I’m leaving to go stay with my sister for a while. I think if you really feel like you need space, I’ll happily give it to you because I don’t want to be around you when you’re acting like this.” She paused and looked over her husband with his messy bedhead and shook her head, hating how handsome he was, “Just…” she flailed her arms, “get this out of your system. Whatever it is. And if I find out you’re cheating on me,” she laughed darkly, not a hint of humor, “God, I can’t even think about that right now.”

Harry nodded and stood from his chair but did not move from his spot at the table. He wanted to hug her and hold her and tell her everything. The whole truth. Ask for her to be lenient on him. Beg for her to go easy. Explain that he didn’t mean to fall in love with someone else. Tell her he’d give her anything she wanted. But to just give him grace.

But he did none of that. Like the coward he was starting to realize he was, he stood there and watched as his wife plucked up her suitcase and her purse and walked out the front door.

.           .           .

Your shift was grueling. It was Sunday brunch. The restaurant was packed. Reservations were always made well in advance. No one could just walk in and get a seat. But the nice thing about that was that you knew pretty much what to expect when you arrived and looked at the schedule and saw your tables and how many you’d be serving. Some even had pre-ordered certain things to make it even easier. Though the breakfast and brunch hours were the hardest.

When your new table came in at 1:00 pm you stopped in your tracks as you realized who was at the table. And instead of putting on a fake smile and calming yourself down you turned and walked back into the kitchen. You needed to take a moment to really collect yourself.

Mrs. Styles was there at your table, with three other women. She was dressed in a lovely lavender silk shirt with black twill pants. After what had happened just the night before, well, technically that very morning, you were sure Mrs. Styles wouldn’t be in a great mood. Her husband had avoided her for hours and hadn’t told her where he was. And as her husband was coming inside of you, giving you your third orgasm of the night, she was blowing up his phone that was lying on your bedroom floor.

When you’d gathered yourself as much as was possible you stepped out into the dining room and feigned surprise, “Hi! Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Styles,” you greeted warmly. There was no way she’d ever assume you had anything to do with Harry’s being gone for hours the night before. You tried to keep that at the forefront of your mind as you smiled at the small group at the table.

“Y/n! I forgot you worked here! Wow, what a surprise!” Mrs. Styles turned to look at the other women at the table, “Ladies this is Fae’s best friend. Such a sweet and smart girl. Looks like we got the best waitress here. I guess my day’s already looking better,” she laughed, and the other women smiled and laughed with her.

Her comment was like a surgical slice into your heart. You swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. I’m so lucky to be serving you today. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

After their orders were placed, a round of bottomless mimosas for each, you’d calmed from your initial surprise of seeing her. Everything seemed rather normal. Perhaps she wasn’t worried about Harry being home so late. You wondered what lie he told her. What kind of excuse he had.

But after Mrs. Styles ordered her fourth mimosa you realized things weren’t normal at all. The champagne had her spilling some details within your earshot. She was just loud enough that you could hear bits and pieces of what she was telling the other women she was with.

“And he didn’t even try and correct me when I mentioned cheating. Just stood there with his mouth wide open,” one of the women had her hand on Mrs. Styles’ shoulder, rubbing gently.

Through the breakfast you heard comments from the other women, words of advice, bits of encouragement, “Maybe he is just going through a mid-life crisis like he said. Marvin went through a phase last year. Would spend hours in the garage away from the family…”

You stood at the table and smiled as the woman finished her anecdotal story until eyes were on you, “Anything else ladies? More mimosas? Pan de chocolate?”

They’d been there for close to three hours by the time they finally decided to get the check. Mrs. Styles was a tiny bit tipsy as they left the restaurant and you learned that she was staying with her sister, one of the women who was with her at the table.

Now you were dying to know what had happened between her and Harry. She was clearly not doing well knowing that Harry had been gone all night. Understandably.

When your shift was over you got into your car and checked your messages. Normally you had a text from Mr. Styles. At least a good morning text but there was nothing.

Hi. How did everything go last night? Just got off work.

You drove to your apartment with your head in the clouds, made-up images of Harry and his wife fighting about him being gone all night. Harry being devasted when she left him to stay with her sister. Harry begging her to come back.

By the time you pulled your emergency break up in your car and shut your engine off your mood was lower than it had been all day. You hoped Harry was okay but you hated the circumstances of everything. And the night before was great. You were absolutely thrilled to have him with you but again, the burden of the guilt was tearing at your seams. At his.

After a shower you saw a missed text notification and your heart lifted. Throwing your hair up into a towel and picking your phone up with a big smile you opened the text and realized it was from the wrong man.

Would you be up for a picnic in the park? There’s a festival downtown and I was thinking it would be fun to check out.

Sighing you opened the text you’d sent to Harry to see that he’d read it but hadn’t responded. Your heart sunk back into the place it had been right before you’d gotten out of the shower.

I’m exhausted. Was a long day at work. Can I have a raincheck?

You knew you needed to tell Evan that you were seeing someone else. That it wasn’t going to work, but part of you didn’t know if maybe you should leave that door open a bit. Because what if Harry realized after all that he couldn’t be with you anymore? What if Mrs. Styles leaving had him coming to his senses? Despite him telling you he loved you, which you knew he meant, it still might not be enough for him to continue seeing you.

You tried to busy yourself. For an entire hour after realizing that Harry had seen your text but had not responded, you picked up a few things, tossed out the old and dying flowers, combined fresh flowers with ones that had not died from older bouquets… everything reminded you of him.

The sudden knocking on your door had you startled. It was nearly 6:30 pm and you couldn’t be sure it was him, but your heart leaped with hope as you quickly padded across your floor to the front door.

The moment you saw his face through the peephole you opened your door in haste and it felt like one of those cheesy Lifetime movie scenes where the man has come to claim his woman in some desperate bid to win her affections back.

He had his leather overnight bag in hand and he pushed you into your apartment, one arm pulling you into his chest, with his foot closing the door behind him. His mouth was on yours before you even heard the thud of his bag drop onto the floor and then both of his arms were wrapped around your middle.

Your world was spinning and your heart crashed under your rib cage as you moved your mouth with his. Soft and urgent. Not unlike the kiss from the night before when he had you coming so hard you saw stars.

You felt ridiculous as you started to tremble in his arms. Definitely felt as if you were enacting a cheesy romance scene from a B movie.

“My sweet girl. God…” Harry finally parted from the kiss, his big hands splayed across your low back as you both stood in front of your door, “I think I only feel okay when I’m with you. I tried… I don’t know. Everything is so fucked up.”

You cupped his face and bent yourself away so you could look at his eyes, “I know. It really is.”

You got two glasses of water and both stood in your kitchen as Harry told you what had happened with his wife. The night before and then that morning.

“And I thought… maybe this was a wake-up call for me. But,” he shook his head and looked at you softly, “I can’t be away from you. I can’t do it. You’re not just some pretty girl that I enjoy being around. I’m genuinely in love with you. I know I said it last night but having her leave this morning and thinking about it all day and trying to take time to be alone I realize I don’t want this, with you, to ever be over.”

You knew how he felt. Even though you weren’t married you were part of this mess and your own heart went back and forth with rational and irrational thoughts. In the end, it always came back to you loving this man, as stupid as it was.

“She was at the restaurant for lunch today. With her sister and two friends.” You finally decided to tell him. You pulled his hand into yours and looked up at him, both of you were leaning on your counter.

Harry’s expression was surprised as you continued, “Overheard her say a few things. I didn’t know what had happened but she was upset a little. That much was clear. And knowing what I know… well I figured out what was going on. Obviously…” you watched Harry take in the information.

He nodded, “She found the toy I bought you too,” he shook his head, “That was stupid of me. Told her a lie about it and she told me to get rid of it.”

You moved your hand up his forearm and as strange as the moment was with the things being discussed, everything felt so much better with him there.

Harry turned his body to face you and the quick movement of his hands grasping your waist and lifting you up to sit on your counter had you gasping. He placed his hips between your thighs with his hands at your waist and his mouth covering yours.

You held onto his shoulders tightly as he pushed your t-shirt up, letting his fingers slide underneath and upward. You hadn’t put a bra on because you hadn’t planned on leaving your apartment. You smiled into his mouth when you felt his lips turn upward when his palms smoothed up your back with nothing in their way.

He drew his hands toward the underside of your breast, his thumbs pressing into the flesh and upward to your nipples. His tongue pressed against yours as he softly, delicately brushed over your pebbled buds.

You moaned and lowered your hands to the waistband of his pants and plucked at his button. His pants always tightened significantly when he had an erection, the material unable to quite contain him comfortably.

The wet kiss grew frantic when he felt your hands at his waist, opening his pants up and he pulled back from the kiss to look into your eyes.

“Can I? Want to make you feel good…” your words were breathy. You wanted to see him smile. Wanted to wipe away the kind of day he’d had just like you knew he’d do for you when you were done.

You’d gotten used to his girth in your mouth, the way he reached down into your tonsils and your throat and made you gag. You’d learned to tolerate the feeling and how to pump his base with one hand as you sucked the rest of him.

And clearly, Harry wanted exactly that because he was dragging you from the counter, and the moment your feet hit the floor you dropped to your knees and shoved him back against the formica, pulling his pants down to his ankles.

You moaned when you peeled his underwear down and grasped him in your palm. Wide and heavy. You loved that he was uncut. Used the skin over his shaft to pump him before you spit onto his tip and looked up at him with as much love as you could with what you were about to do, licking all over his frenulum and down the side of his cock.

Harry put both of his palms onto the countertop behind him as he watched you in silence. Watched you drag your tongue along his foreskin and down to his base. Watched you glide your hand over his dick and wrap your hand around him as you laved over his tip. Watched you open your mouth with your tongue out and slide his cock into your mouth.

“Fuck, pup. You’re so good to me aren’t you?” He sucked in a sharp breath as you sucked his crown and continued pumping him. He learned early on that you were eager when it came to giving head.

And you were eager because of the way he gave you head. Had he not been so good and so excited to eat you out you wouldn’t have put in as much effort as you did. But you matched his energy and gave back to him dirty blow jobs that rivaled the kind of depraved things he did to your pussy with his mouth.

And when you got yourself into a good rhythm with drool pooling at the edges of your mouth and dripping down your chin you grabbed one of his hands and brought it to the back of your head, encouraging him to push on you, adding pressure to his hand as you looked up at him.

“Fuck, baby. Like this?” He pushed you down over him, making you take him deeper and you immediately gagged. He was already near your tonsils by that point and the little bit of push he gave you had his swollen, achy head pressing past them and into your throat.

You moaned and blinked your eyes as you grasped onto his thigh. You still used your other hand, sometimes stroking at the base, sometimes gently rolling his balls in your palm.

The gurgles and coughs coming from you shouldn’t have been as sexy as they were but Harry knew that a little gagging didn’t make you shy away from taking him deeper. He bit his lip as he watched you.

He kept his hand at the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down his shaft, sometimes giving you a break while you took in a breath through your nose and stroked his hard cock in your fist.

But then, after you’d gotten air in your lungs and you recovered after choking on him for a few solid seconds you went down on him further. Peeking your eyes up at him you forced yourself to go down over him as far as you could reach before you shut your eyes and felt a steady stream of your saliva drip down to your knees. You wretched and gurgled and listened to your lover moan praises to you.

“Oh my god… fuck me, baby. Holy fuck! You’re so fucking good to me. I need you, honey…” his words and his cock were making you dizzy. You wanted his come. Wanted to give him relief (whether he deserved it or not).

You felt him throb in your mouth, his dick poking deep as you swallowed over his tip and tasted the saltiness of his precome. He coughed out a groan and pushed you off by your shoulders with a gasp. He was red in the face, his lips were swollen and especially pink, chest rising and falling, cock twitching before your face as you leaned in to put him back inside your mouth.

“Oh, hold on pup! Wait…” he rushed out his words. You held on to his muscled thighs and looked up at him from your spot on the floor at your knees. You would have protested but you were too busy inhaling oxygen into your lungs and catching your breath.

Harry put his hands under your armpits to lift you upward before he bent down to remove his shoes and pants and underwear. He held you upright as he looked back at you with slobber all over your chin and neck, “Let’s get into your bed. Wanna finish inside of you, okay?”

And you knew “inside of you” meant in your cunt.

You were already slick and pulsing, your clit throbbing for him by the time he pulled your shorts off and spit down over your pussy. He waited for a minute before doing anything as he watched you squirm under him, “Please… what are you doing?” You asked him, impatiently.

Harry grinned at you and lifted your shirt up above your tits before dipping down to suck on each one. Thoroughly wetting them and pulling at your nipples.

When he sat back onto his haunches he sighed as he dragged his hands down your torso, thumbing over your soft skin and taking you all in, “Needed a minute, baby. Want to fuck you like you deserve.”

And fuck you like you deserve he did. Well, maybe you didn’t deserve it, but he certainly knew how to fuck you.

The slow plunge into your pussy had you writhing and keening under him. He focused on your face as he thrusted himself into you with long, languid strokes. Deep and full of love. He put his entire body into each thrust, his knees mushed into the bed, the front of his thighs pressed into the back of yours, his forearms flat onto the mattress on either side of your shoulders, hovering over you as he watched your face twist up in pleasure.

“I need you, Y/n. Fucking love you, baby,” he grunted as his hips ground deep into you, rocking against yours before gliding back to mid-shaft and plunging into you deeply, fitting his balls against your bum, causing your moans to get louder and whinier.

“I need you, Harry,” you moaned in response. The eye contact and the fullness of him consumed you whole. You’d allow him to overpower you in any way. All of your senses were controlled by him at that moment. The connection between your bodies felt unreal. You were both inhaling sharply at the intensity of the situation.

Your cheap bed creaked gently in time with each roll of his hips and the slick pat of your bodies joining each time he buried himself into you was met with his moans and your gasps.

You scratched your nails down his back when your vision began to blur and your blood rushed to your core. His pelvis dragged against your clit, over and over again as he stuffed himself inside of you, pressing you into the bed, your walls squeezing and taking him in like you were made for him. Like he was made to fit in you.

“Want my come, pup?” Harry’s words were tight as he clenched his teeth. He loved the way your nails felt on his back and he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences of that later on, but for now, it felt like heaven and you were his and he only belonged to you.

“Give me your come. Want it to soak all of my insides…” you moaned in response

“Yeah? Want me to fill up your cunt, baby? Get you all full of my cock and my come?” He grunted.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whimpered and began to spasm. His words had you wishing you weren’t on birth control. Wishing you could get knocked up and have him for your own. Fuck everything else.

“Fuck, pup,” Harry choked his words when he felt you spasming around him, “Coming on my cock, baby? Yeah? Sounds like it feels really good,” he was delirious. He hardly knew what he was saying as your high-pitched whine turned into guttural moans. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around his cock until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore as he tried working you through, but your cunt was begging to be filled and fed. Begging to have his come.

He rutted into you sharply and groaned as he put his lips over yours and let your walls milk him dry, squeezing his shaft and drawing his come deep into your insides. Into your guts.

The earth began to right itself when you felt him shaking and knew he was finally coming. Finally getting the relief you’d wanted to gift him. His hot breath against your neck and his moans as he drained into you had you smiling and wrapping your legs around him tight, pulling him in deeper as you felt the tail end of your orgasm floating away into space. It felt so good to have him with you. To have him inside of you. To hear him tell you he wanted you, needed you, loved you.

Harry was always amazing at aftercare. He always took care of you, softly whispered to you, and held you. The sweet pillow talk and hushed voices as you held one another and kissed felt like what love really should. The sex was outstanding. It always was, but it was the moments after that sealed everything into place for you. Glued your resolve tight and reminded you of who you were with. Reminded you that Harry was yours and you were his and nothing else mattered. No matter what happened outside of the lazy comedown and the tender touches you received after a mind-blowing orgasm, everything always came back to this.

“I really get you all tonight and tomorrow?” You brushed his hair through your fingers as you both lay on your sides facing one another, your thigh draped over his hip, after the intensive cleanup process. Harry had one arm underneath you and his other hand was at your hip.

He grinned, “Yeah. But I look at it more like I get to have you all night and tomorrow. I’m getting a far better deal than you are.”

You laughed and gently tugged at his hair, “Oh please. I’m so lucky you’d even stay.”

Harry blinked his eyes and the grin fell from his face, “Don’t think like that, baby. You’re so much better than I am. In every way. Way out of my league. I don’t deserve your love. You’re precious to me. I’m the lucky one here. Don’t ever forget how this really is, Y/n.”

You settled your head back into your pillow as you kept your eyes on his, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that… like…” he looked toward your bedroom door and then shifted his gaze back to you, “I feel like I should be begging you and kissing the ground you walk on. Like any bit of attention you shower me with is a blessing and I’m surviving only on your love and affection that you somehow allow me to have.”

You smiled and brought your hands down to his face, the overgrown hairs tickling your palms, “You’re crazy. That’s not how this is at all.”

Harry took your hand and pulled your wrist to his mouth, giving you soft kisses to the skin, and shook his head into the pillow, “That is how this is. Whether you see it or not. I’m lucky you even give me the time of day. I’m like a peasant in comparison to your high royal position,” he smiled as you laughed, “I’m serious. I’m not good enough to even be in your presence and yet you let me in over and over again.”

“Stop. I don’t feel like that…”

Harry’s words were mushed into your wrist, “I know you don’t and that’s crazy to me. But that’s how it is, pup. You hold all the power here. Anyone on the outside will say the same. I’m a lowlife and you’re golden rays shining down on me.”

You sighed and shook your head as he pulled you in closer so your tits were pressed into his warm, sturdy chest, “I’m so lucky. I love you much.”

“I’m lucky too. Lucky you’re here with me now. Wish it was always like this.”

Harry kissed your forehead and smoothed his hand over your hair, “Me too, Y/n.”

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[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

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[chaoticloving]

cock blocked

harry styles x reader

summary: harry gets cocked blocked by a couple of cuties

warnings: shower sex (f oral, m masturbation)

Harry loved mornings like this.

He loved the sound of the fan on high speed, as insisted on by Y/n, he loved the sound of the city of London in the streets below, but most importantly, he loved the feeling of his body wrapped around Y/n--and, of course, the other way around.

Harry had picked Y/n up from the airport late last night. Harry might've chugged a couple cups of coffee to stay awake and get himself on the time zone Y/n was currently in. It worked to get him through the drive to Heathrow and back, not to mention the "i've miss you so much sex" that they were both desperate; but it was fair to say that Harry was beat by midnight and needed a good lie in.

The couple was in Y/n's flat, but they weren't alone. Marmalade, or Marney, is the precious black Scottish Terrier with little legs that like to scamper around and cause havoc for Harry. Then theres Sugar, a white Persian cat thats a true cutie. She sleeps the whole day but always makes time to 'talk' to Y/n or Harry by meowing and responding to whatever the couple say.

Y/n only has one rule: no pets on the bed.

She doesn't even allow for outside clothes on her bed--which Harry got an earful of when he once tried to take a nap while wearing clothes he wore on his walk over, but now thinking about it, she might of been trying to just get him naked.

Continuing on, the pets know never to to jump on the bed or really ever go into Y/n's room, they only go in when Harry is staying over. And without a doubt, either Marney or Sugar (sometimes together) would always tickle Harry's foot that finds it's way out from under the covers. They are Y/n's little devils that Harry just loves so much.

"Mhm, babe, scoot over." Y/n mumbles, slightly breaking from Harry's grasp to spread out more.

Harry grumbles from not being able to spoon and hold her as easily as before, but come up with the great idea of star-fishing right on top of her. Y/n groans when his weight is put on top of her.

"Don't know why you're complain'." Harry mumbles. "You got more room now."

"So thoughtful." She said, sarcasm coming though her groggy voice. She patted his bare back, hand coming up though his hair to continue on with her sleep.

Harry had the same plan. That was, until he heard scratches coming from the closer door.

Harry silently groaned as he removed his face from Y/n's neck and looked at the door in which pro red the couple from the little monsters.

"Your kids are up."

"Practically your kids too." She mumbles, pushing Harry off of her body to get up.

"No! Don't get up!" Harry whined. "Need at least another hour of beauty sleep."

"Think you need a bit more than an hour." She joked.

"You're so mean. Why am I still with you?" Harry smiles, flipping over to look at her as she comes back to the bed.

"Because I am amazing." She answers simply, sitting on his lap and leaning her head just above his. "And I'm really hot."

Harry smiles boyishly, a cheeky smile creeping over his face along with a slight blush. "Don't forget sexy." His hands come up to rest on her waist, fingers dancing along the bare skin. "And beautiful."

He kissed her, sitting up so he could add his tongue and to do a bit more than laying there and looking pretty.

Y/n rolled her hips, causing Harry to let out a moan. "Fuck, only you could do this to me, love."

Y/n wickedly smiled against his cheek, continuing her assault on his neck with her lips.

The first time Y/n heard whimpering, she thought it was Harry just being extra needy this morning, but when it was accompanied by scratching at the door, Y/n knew it was her other baby's that needed some--much less intimate--love.

She kissed Harry on the lips, sitting up with his lips and groin chasing her. She went to the door and was met with her pets at the door.

"I did not just get cocked blocked by a fuckin' dog and cat." Harry said in disbelief. Y/n giggles but leaves Harry's line of sight to presumably feed the cock blockers.

Harry sighs and gets up, he's uncomfortable in his boxers as his halfy is causing it to be a little tight around the groin--it never fails to boost his confidence, though.

He walks to the connecting bathroom, turning on the shower and brushing his teeth so he could get rid of the morning breath. He soon strips and enters the shower, letting the warm water sooth his skin.

He hears the bedroom door shut and the footsteps of his love. Y/n takes off her (Harry's really) shirt and jumps into the shower with Harry.

"The baby's just wanted their breakfast." She mumbled apologetically, kissing his lips. "Want me to make it up to you?"

"Maybe later." Harry mutters, trailing kisses down her neck then breast without any signs of stopping. "Right now I want my own breakfast."

“Mhm. Not so sure on that line.” Y/n mumbled, hand slowly going into Harry’s hair as he crouched down.

“Want me to try again?”

“Nope.” She pushed Harry’s head right into her cunt, Harry more than welcomed the action though.

Harry kissed the sides of her thighs next to her pussy, before sucking gently on her clit. Y/n’s hold on his hair grew tighter, both of them moaning in unison.

Harry’s hand started to move from her hips; his left arm went to her ass, grabbing it and pushing her forward to get her pussy closer to his mouth. His right hand trialed down to his hard cock, practically throbbing from the small bit of sensation from the water droplets. He gripped it tight, just like Y/n would do if she was hand job, and then slowly stroked down and up, just to edge himself.

Y/n was starting to ride Harry’s face, pushing her hips slightly forward and back to make use of Harry’s tung, while she started ti breath heavy and moan. Harry, ever the pleaser, paralleled her movement with his tung to help her hit that pleasure she was seeking. Harry, not to mention, also matched that movement with his right hand on his dick.

“I love you H.” She moaned, eyes pressed together as she was about to reach her climax.

Harry just nodded, getting close too, before cumming on the shower floor as Y/n came on his face.

Harry trialed kissed down her thigh, then slowly stood up. Y/n kissed him as he was to his normal height, letting her hands go over his toned stomach.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” She mumbled, referring to Harry’s masturbation.

“You helped me more then ever lovie.” He promised. “Now lemme do your hair and wash you down, just stand and look pretty for me, yeah?”

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