#hsficslam

Meanwhile, you are stuck in your home, trying to busy yourself with random things. You know you’re probably being dramatic but you always crave the weekends where it’s just the two of you. But on the bright side, you aren’t entirely alone since your kitten that you adopted, Ruby, is keeping you company.

Except she doesn’t do much more than just meow at you and exposes her tummy for some belly rubs.

You sigh as you put down the book you were reading, rubbing your temples. You look at the time and notice that it was nearly lunchtime. You frown as Harry has not yet texted back at you whether he’d be home for lunch. Not to mention, you usually don’t cook on the weekends and always order takeout with Harry. It’s become a tradition to say the least.

Ruby purrs at you, nudging her head on your thigh. “I know, baby. Daddy’s not home yet,” you tell her as you rub her head, making her purr loudly. She meows at you and you know it’s probably time to feed her. You carry her on your way to the kitchen to fill up her food and water bowl, maybe find something to snack on a bit while you still wait for your beautiful boyfriend to come home to you.

Within the next few minutes to an hour, you find yourself reading off a cookbook to make a simple and easy cheesecake. You are so engrossed with making the batter that you didn’t hear the front door opening and closing.

Harry walks in balancing a bag of Chinese food in his hands, grinning as Ruby runs up to him rubbing her head against his legs. He pets her and makes his way to the kitchen to see what you’re up to.

Harry somehow had a hunch that you would be annoyed because he had to leave so early that morning. So, in hopes to get on your good side and make up for it, he bought food from both of your favourite Chinese restaurants and even a bouquet of peonies as compensation.

He’s curious as he hears you mumbling under your breath. He knows that you’re not cooking because it's the weekend.

It’s your little tradition after all.

He stops by the doorway and sees the kitchen in somewhat of a mess from the ingredients used on the counters. Flour patches itself onto your face and arms as you put the baking pan into the oven. Your hair is a mess as it’s put up, some flyaways framing the shape of your face.

But even then, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Oh! You’re back!” He hears your chirp at him and you beam at the sight of your boyfriend finally back. “Hello, darlin’.” He sets the items he has on the dining table and walks up to you, planting a gentle kiss on your head.

You hum in response as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Missed you.” You mumble against the fabric of his shirt and feel his chest bouncing up and down as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry, my baby. Missed you too,” he says as he lays his head on yours. You look up at him. “You’re mean. Didn’t even text me for lunch.” You pout at him and he laughs at your seemingly annoyed face.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m serious! I was dying of hunger here and I didn’t know what time you were coming home!” You whine as he continues to laugh at you.

“I’m so sorry for that, lovie.” He strokes the side of your face and you unconsciously lean your face in his palm, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “But, as compensation, I got you some food.” He gestures to the bag on the dining table.

“Also, I got you some flowers,” he tells you sheepishly, giving the bouquet to you. He loves it when your face instantly lights up and he always makes a note himself to always do even the smallest things to see you beam.

You are almost like a glowing ball of light wherever you go. Always bright and happy, showing kindness and love, and he loves that so much about you.

“You’re so charming and cute,” you tell him, accepting the bouquet and smelling the scent of it. “Yeah? Anything for my girl,” he says cheekily.

You hum in reply as you throw your arms around his neck. “Hey,” you say. Harry raises an eyebrow in response. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He throws his head back in laughter at your question. “This isn’t funny, H! This is serious. You can’t just waltz in, late for lunch, with flowers and all, and not give a kiss.” You pout at him as you cross your arms. The whole picture makes you look like a little kid upset that they’re mother took away their favourite toy.

He shakes his head at you, thinking of how silly you are. His large hands grab the sides of your face and he pulls your face closer to his. “Yeah? My lovie wants a kissy?” He says as he teases you, lightly brushing his lips against yours.

You whimper in response. “Yes, please,” you tell him and he doesn’t waste a minute to press his lips on yours. You moan at the feeling of his soft, tasteful, pink lips, almost savouring the euphoric feeling his kisses give you.

He pulls away from you, grinning at your dazed expression. “Is that better?” He asks softly, and you nod as you clear your throat. “Great, thanks!” You sheepishly grin at him.

Harry chuckles at you and pecks your lips again. You giggle at the affection you get from him. “Should eat first while we wait for this cheesecake,” you tell him. You’re still staring at his pretty face as he does the same, admiring and adoring each other’s beauty.

“Mmhmm,” he responds, not really paying attention as he looks at your lips again. “Another kissy? Please, love?” Harry asks politely.

You roll your eyes and giggle at his adorable behaviour. “One more kissy,” you mumble.

He hums in reply as you lean up to kiss him again. He takes an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, making you gasp and moan at the feeling. He pulls you closer to him, his hands dangerously resting right on the curve of your bum. You giggle into the kiss which makes him smile. He continues to plant small kisses from your lips down to your jaw and neck.

You laugh out at the slightly ticklish feeling and pull him away. “C’mon, you cheeky man. I’m hungry,” you tell him as you pull him by his hand. Harry beams at you, giving you a few bum pats as you both walk to the dining table.

Your back was pushed against Harry’s chest, his very hard dick pressing into your back as Harry instructs you to spread your legs, “bend your knees up and spread them for me” he whispers in your ear as your head lulls back to rest on his shoulder. Harry’s right hand makes its way down your body, to the ache of where you need him most. His left hand firmly gripping and touching your breasts, you're fixated on the image reflecting back in the mirror in front of you. Watching as Harry’s thumb slowly circles your clit, hips bucking forward to the motion. Your own arms move up towards Harry’s face, his green eyes finding yours as you connect through open mouth kisses.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” Harry says as his ring clad fingers begin moving up your slit before dipping his middle, swiftly followed by his third, your muscles tighten up your body taking him in but still wanting more the missing feeling not being the same. You think about what you want, how you want to watch Harry watch you as you come undone. You grab Harry’s wrists and move his hands out of you, your mouth opening for his fingers, Harry watches in awe as you swirl your tongue around the metal of his rings to the very tips of nails.

“I want to,” you turn your head up to look him in the eyes, “ride you like this,” you say adjusting your position to line your center with the tip of his dick and slowly fill him inside you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry whispers as he watches himself disappear inside you. You anchor your body with your forearms, moving your hips up and down Harry’s length as you find your rhythm adjusting to the familiar feeling. You watch in the mirror as Harry bites into his lower lips eyes watching the way your two bodies connect. You move through the motions, your moans grow louder in the room.

“Harry, I need more” you confess, turning your head to the left and looking back at him, the adrenaline present as he slowly pulls out of you and quickly pushes himself back in. His large hands find a firm grip on your waist as he quickens his thrusts. The juxtaposition of Harry’s thrusts to the movements of your hips has the fire in your stomach growing and just as you can feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm, Harry’s movements stop.

“Harry,” you say annoyed at the change and before you had the chance to continue your sentence he grabs you at the waist and flips you over, “Oh” you say shyly as you’re almost immediately met with the sheen of sweat present on his chest and the intensity of his eyes. He always had this look when he was losing himself while having sex, a sense of determination washing over him like he would do anything to get you off.

“Wanna see you, can’t finish without seeing your pretty face,” he says causing a shy smile to appear on your face turning to face away from him, “hey you can’t get all embarrassed on me now when a minute ago you were saying, what was it?” He asks you and waits for a response knowing that he isn’t going to get one. You shake your head rolling your eyes at him and he continues, “Oh yes, Harry I need more,” he says and like that he pushes every inch of himself inside you.

And when Harry says the next six words, the fire that was in your stomach is reignited again, “S’like you were made for me,” Harry whispers in your ear.

You reach into his curls and rake your hands through them, Harry moaning in response to the feeling, “Does that feel good?” You ask knowing the answer but wanting to do whatever in your power to get him closer to his release.

“Of course it feels good, always feel good when I’m with you,” Harry says losing himself in the rhythm of your hips connecting, his mouth missing your lips before moving onto to kiss up your jawline and down your neck.

“I’m close Harry, fuck,” you say as he moves his hand down your body to find your clit but you beat him to it, “want them around my neck,” you confess. The two of you have crossed that territory before but it was still something new and you knew you wanted it tonight.

Harry wraps his right hand around your neck. The cool feeling of his rings mixed with the heat of your bodies as they worked to bring the both of over the edge. The feeling of his hands around your neck, your core filled with his length and your own hands working on your clit.

“Fuck, you’re right there baby,” Harry encourages you through each thrust. The fire igniting as you close your eyes and allow your body to jolt forward, taking in the feeling of the orgasm from the tips of your toes to your inner core, as each wave hits your body.

You take deep inhales and exhales trying to catch your body up in order to form a coherent thought but when the fullness of Harry disappears. And he is now stroking himself while watching you come undone,

“S’fuckin incredible,” Harry grunts as he leans back and watches you in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Could watch you all day,” you confess as you take in the sight above you, the glistening of Harry’s tattoos, the hairs sticking onto his body, the way he is working himself to his orgasm while looking at you. The smirk on his face ever presents as he releases himself right below your belly button.

“I could do that all day,” Harry says earning a laugh from you as you move to grab one of the discarded items of clothing from the other side of the bed.

“I’m sure you could with your little teenage boy brain.”

“The sex is nice but I was thinking more so just watching you, being with you, it’s all I ever want to do,” Harry says lovingly as he leans in to connect your lips with his before letting go and looking you straight in the eyes, “S’all I want and I mean it.”

That’s how your movie night in bed ended, with the credits rolling and two long, slender, ringless fingers pumping into you at the most tormenting pace.

“Hm?” he prompted again. You knew he was smug without seeing him, the ghost of a smirk playing against the side of your throat as your hips rolled with his hand, begging for more. “That’s it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, clenching down on his digits.

His teeth scraped across your jaw, lips finding yours with a groan. You were soaked, you could feel it with every pump of his hand. And when he pulled back just in time to watch your face as he pulled your wetness up to your swollen clit, your mouth fell open around a moan.

He did it again and again, whine after whine slipping up your throat as he alternated between dipping his fingers into you and circling your clit. Back and forth, back and forth, until you could barely take it, so wet and swollen, ready to come at any moment.

“That’s it,” he groaned. His voice was so fucking deep, arousal laced through every octave. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

His glistening fingers repeatedly flicked over your clit, hyper focused on the most sensitive spot, knowing it was your undoing.  And that never got old - the way he wanted you to come, so he made you come, knowing exactly how to pull your orgasm from you.

Which he did, tremors shooting across your skin as you came, moaning his name and gripping his hair.

“Fuck, good girl.”  He kissed you roughly, slowing his movements on your clit before slipping his fingers inside you once more.

You hummed a moan against his lips, his tongue meeting yours briefly before he was kissing down your chin and throat, lips grazing your collarbones and chest hotly, the scruff on his face a welcomed contrast to his now soft touch.

“Wanna watch you do that again,” he conceded as he kissed down your body slowly, taking his time to suck and lick one of your pebbled nipples, and then the other. “And again.” Lips pressed against your sternum, sucking kisses to your waist, breathy moans against your hips; every move he made keeping the fire simmering low in your belly. “And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”  

Your skin was burning from both his mouth and his words, your core fluttering around his fingers. Warm breath met your sensitive clit first, then the softest touch of his lips as he kissed you.

“H,” you breathed, gripping his hair between your fingers tighter as he made himself comfortable on his stomach.

He turned to press a kiss to the skin of your inner thigh, his free hand squeezing your hip tightly. “Think I’m addicted to making you come.”

You couldn’t stop your head from tilting back and the soft “fuck” that escaped your lips when his tongue met your clit, warm and full.

He wasn’t the only addicted one.

***

You blinked and turned around to glance at Charlotte who was looking at you with a smug smile. She raised her eyebrows knowingly and nodded her head in the direction you had just been glaring.

“I told you this was gonna happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you told her, taking a deep breath, before forcing a strangled laugh from your chest. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Charlotte hummed and tapped her chin, pretending to be deep in thought before continuing. “Maybe because you two have been sleeping together for a couple of weeks now and you won’t admit it’s more than a ‘friends with benefits’ type of thing.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she was wrong, but Charlotte stopped you by putting her hand up and adding; “And now you’ve been glaring at poor Rosie for the last ten minutes for doing his hair - which, you know, is her job.”  

“I have not.”

“Sure,” she chuckled mockingly and pressed her lips together to stop herself from grinning. “If you say so.”

Instead of replying you turned around to look at Harry again. He sat across the room from you, getting ready for the last and final show of his tour, with Rosie standing in front of him. Your eyes went to her hands as she ran her fingers through his brown hair and twirled his locks around her fingers to give him a little more definition.

And you had no reason to be jealous - but maybe you were? Just a little bit. Just the tiniest little bit jealous.

Because you now knew just how soft his hair was and that morning you had been the one to soothingly run your hands through it as he rested his head on your chest, cuddling up to you and holding you close.

Still, you really shouldn’t be jealous, because Rosie was only doing her job as his hairstylist and there was absolutely no reason for you to be jealous. None. Nada. Zero.

But then there was also that interviewer who, in your opinion, sat way too close to him and touched his arm a little too often. Laughing and flirting with him like no one else was around. It left a sour taste in your mouth, although you would never admit that outloud. Especially not to Charlotte.

It was only supposed to be a bit of fun. It was never supposed to get to this point. You were only supposed to be the tour photographer. Harry had liked the pictures you had taken of him during one of his Jingle Bell Ball performances a while back. And when his regular photographer wasn’t able to join him on the North American part of his tour, due to a conflict in her schedule, his team reached out and asked if you were available.

You were.

So a couple weeks later you were on a plane, traveling across the Atlantic, and ended up befriending one of the world's biggest pop stars.

How you ended up naked in his bed after the show in Chicago was still something you were trying to figure out.

It kind of just... happened.

One of the crew members had turned 40 and Harry had arranged a big birthday party for him after the show. You weren’t supposed to be working but you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling out your camera, the moment was there and you wanted to capture everyone's good spirits. Harry came up to you, a plate of cake in one hand and a drink in the other, forcing you to take it from him and telling you to put the camera away and have some fun.

One drink turned into another, and another turned into a third, and the third turned into a shot of tequila. It was all just downhill from there.

As the night went on you found yourself being drawn closer to Harry and when his fingers danced across the skin on your thigh you knew there was no going back. An hour later you stumbled into his hotel room, and his hands and lips were all over you as you ripped his shirt from his body before the door was even fully closed behind you.

The next morning you woke up with a raging headache and a belly full of regret because it was terribly unprofessional of you to sleep with the artist you were supposed to be working for. You were sure you were going to be told to pack your bags and go back home.

Of course that didn’t happen and Harry was nothing but sweet. He ordered both of you breakfast and let you sleep off your hangover in his bed while he got himself ready for the day.

Then it kind of just became a thing, because life on the road could be a little lonely and your pink vibrator wasn’t always enough.

It didn't bring you the same warmth Harry did.

And he didn’t seem to mind sharing a bed with you either, even if he sometimes complained about your cold toes rubbing against his legs.

So, really, who were you to say no?

But perhaps you should’ve because now the tour was coming to an end and you had no idea where the two of you stood and the uncertainty of it all was making you jealous of his hairstylist touching him - not ideal.

Which was why you decided to remove yourself from the situation and went to get your camera ready instead. You found yourself a quiet spot in a small corner next to the stage and tried to ignore the immature thoughts about Harry and Rosie running through your mind.

You shouldn't be jealous. It was stupid. Besides you and Harry weren’t anything exclusive. Sure, he made your heart beat twice as fast and made you feel things you had only ever read about in novels before, but you hadn’t told him any of that yet.

And you weren’t really sure how to tell him any of that. 

Should you even tell him?

Telling him would make it real and what if he didn’t feel the same... that would certainly be the end of whatever was going on between the two of you. 

But it was possible that the end of the tour also represented the end of the two of you, so, maybe you didn’t even have anything to lose by telling him?

You groaned to yourself and ran a hand over your face in frustration, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to drown out your thoughts with the sound from all the screaming fans in the already full-packed arena. The anticipation was high and usually it made your whole body itch with excitement as well, there was just so much love and adoration going around for one person. It was impossible to not be part of it, but tonight it only made your belly twist with anxiety.

You were going to miss it. The loud crowds. The anticipation. The joy radiating off of everyone in the arenas. The ringing in your ears as you got into bed hours later. The sparkle in Harry’s eyes as he looked through the pictures you’d taken and saw the happy faces of his fans.

You were going to miss him. Harry.

It was one of the reasons you hadn’t asked him how he felt about the two of you. If he turned around and said that your late night rendezvous was only a bit of fun while you were on the road... Well, it was something you weren’t ready to hear just yet.

Fuck.

It was also at that exact moment that Harry decided to show up, only a couple minutes before he was due to go out on stage.

“There you are,” he called out when he spotted you, your green trousers and matching striped blazer making you stand out from your little hideout in the dark corner. You watched as he said something to Jeff before making his way over to you. “Been lookin’ for ya for bloody ages - thought I’d have to go on stage without a goodluck from my little ladybug.”

You tried your best to ignore the way your whole body tingled from his little nickname for you; a nickname that started after he noticed the small little ladybug ring you always wore on your right index finger. You had had it since you were twelve and you just couldn’t get rid of it. Ever since you first saw it in the small thrift shop in your hometown it had been your good luck charm.

And once Harry asked about it and learned that you wore it every single day for good luck, he decided it was also the reason why the North American tour had been going so well and didn’t go on stage before you had wished him a good show.

“Well, here I am.”

Harry frowned and stopped in his tracks. You couldn’t look at him, the high waisted trousers and sparkling suit jacket he was wearing made your already racing heart beat even faster.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just getting ready,”  you muttered and nodded down to the camera in your hands. You didn’t mean to sound so bitter but the words fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. “Are you all set for the last show then? Maybe you should go find Rosie again to make sure the hair is good.”

You regretted it as soon as you said it, your cheeks turning hot as the last phrase slipped from your tongue.

That was stupid.

His eyes burned through your skin and you knew there was no way he was going to let your snide little remark go. Stupid stupid stupid.

For a moment you contemplated just making a run for it so you could hide in the lively crowd for the whole show and then simply just disappear into the night, so you wouldn’t ever have to look Harry Styles in the eyes ever again.

But something stopped you.

A low, almost inaudible, chuckle fell from the man in front of you and you glanced up at him just as his lips curled into a small smirk, his dimple appearing on his cheek, and you felt your face grow even hotter. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Harry held his hands up innocently.

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” he said, still smirking, and let his tongue poke out to lick his pink lips.

“Yes, you are! I don’t like that-” you started and waved your finger at him, “Whatever it is you're doing with your face.”

“Are you jealous?” Harry asked, ignoring your frustrated little stomp, and took a step closer to you.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, taking a shaky breath and a step backwards away from him, making both of you disappear in the shadows of the dark corner where you had previously been hiding as he followed and continued to come closer.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“It’s fine if you are.”

“You really need to stop or I’ll only snap pictures of you from your worst angles tonight.”

Not that he really had any bad angles but that was beside the point. It was absolutely infuriating how he could see right through you so easily.

Harry laughed and took one final step forward, trapping you between his body and the wall. His familiar perfume washed over you and you wanted to bathe in it forever. He always smelled so damn good, and for a moment you forgot about your childish behavior from a couple seconds ago and let yourself get lost in the green of his eyes

“You know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?” Harry told you and reached out to push a strand of your hair away from your face. His fingers gently brushed across the apple of your cheek, making your heart flutter and head fuzzy. He was no longer smirking at you but his lips were still turned upwards. Instead of the smug smirk he was now looking down at you with a soft smile - the same smile you had gotten so used to seeing first thing in the morning, and you were sure you wouldn’t mind if you got to see it every morning for the rest of your life.

“Do I?” you breathed out nervously. 

“Well, when we’re back in London I'm gonna make sure to finally take you on a proper date and-”

“What?”

You didn’t mean to cut him off. It just took you completely off guard and the words fell from your lips before you could think twice about it. “You want to take me out on a date in London?”

That caught him a little off guard.

“Oh,” Harry faltered a little and scratched the back of his neck. For the first time there was a hint of nervousness across his otherwise confident features. “I kind of just assumed we would, eh, we don’t have to- I mean if you, um- if you don’t- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to continue things back home.”

And you probably really should’ve said something then, but you were at a loss for words. It was the first time either of you had ever mentioned something about seeing each other after the tour was done. You finally had an answer to the question that had swirled around in your head for days and had created the uncertainty and jealousy in the first place. Just like that.

You had spent all day trying to decide whether you should tell him your feelings for him had changed and admit you wanted to see him more, and there he was -- already planning for your first official date.

You really needed to say something.

But someone else beat you to it.

“H!” It was Jeff. “You’ve got less than a minute until you have to get on stage, c’mon!”

Harry turned around and gave his friend a thumbs up, to let him know he had heard him, before he looked down at you again.

“Alright, duty calls I guess,” he said and gave you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Again, I’m sorry.”

And you knew you had to say something because you couldn’t let him do his final show thinking you didn’t actually want to continue seeing him. Especially when it was the opposite of what you wanted.

“Wait,” you burst out and reached for his hand to stop him from leaving. “I do. I do want to see you.”

Harry’s dimple made another appearance and there was so much more you wanted to say to him. You wanted to tell him how thankful you were to have met him. How happy he made you. How safe you felt in his company. How you could always be yourself around him. How he actually had no right to complain about your cold feet because his own were even colder.

But Jeff beat you again.

“Harry!” He shouted. “Get your ass over here!”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this right now,” Harry chuckled and pulled you a little closer, his hand still in yours.

“Probably not,” you mumbled and watched as Harry ran his fingers over your dainty little ladybug ring, before lifting your hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. His warm lips lingered for a couple seconds on your skin and you could have melted into a puddle right there and then.

“Wish me luck then,” he smiled, his lips still brushing against the skin on top of your hand.  

“You don’t need it.”

“Shhh, don’t ruin it now,” he shushed and shook his head lightly. “S’the last show. I need my ladybug luck.”

“If you need your ladybug luck,” you began quietly and pulled your hand away from his. Harry pouted and reached for your hand to have the little ladybug on your ring between you again, but you were quicker and put your arm around his waist. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

A grin broke out across his face and he didn’t waste any time before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss that filled your belly with butterflies. Warmth consumed your whole body as you leaned into the kiss and Harry smiled against your lips. You really could’ve stayed in that moment forever.

“Harry!”

Jeff called his name again.

Harry let out an excessive sigh as he broke your kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. His breath warm on your face and as he pressed his lips to yours again in a short peck you realised you were still smiling as well. 

Then he was off to do his final show. 

And despite the thousands of ear piercing screams that filled the arena as he entered the stage the sweet little “Good luck” you shouted after him was the loudest one. 

.

He hums a yes, turning back to face you.

“I think you’re very special, Harry. You’re so special, and everyone loves you and I don’t know, I-I’m scared that you’ll break my heart or something. This...this thing between us, it’s good right? I jus- I just want to be enough for you,” you huff out, pulling the sheets over your head in embarrassment.

Harry smirks and chuckles at your hasty confession. “You’re more than enough, love. Too much actually if I’m honest”

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!“ you whine at him. “That’s not very treat people with kindness of you”

He giggles that adorably boyish giggle, but looking at him anyone can see he is a man. A very important man who had admirers all over the world, but somehow you lucked out and he became your only admirer. You’re the one he looked for when he was on stage. The one he called at 2 A.M when he woke up in a completely different time zone, but wanted to say good morning regardless. The one who he always found an excuse to touch when you were out with your friends. The one who’s bed he rolled around in to leave his smell in it before he left.

“I’m jokinggg,” he quips. He wrestles you from out under the sheets. You elbow him in his side for his joking in your time of humiliating self-doubt.

“Well, how ‘bout this,” he takes your hands in his, pulling them up to his mouth and smothering small kisses to your palm. “Right now, in this moment, I promise to you that I will do everything in my power to not break your heart and you promise to do everything in yours not to break mine? Capisce?”

Harry has nothing but sincerity in his eyes waiting for your response. You wonder how you got so lucky to get this magnificent, magnetic man to be yours, in whatever capacity that happened to be.

“Capase,” you laugh out. You kiss him quickly, before moving to get up. Two very strong, very tattooed arms wrap around your waist, stopping you from your task.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he questions, pulling you back into his arms. Spooning you, resuming his attack on your neck like the pest he is.

You burst out into laughter, trying and failing to escape his grasp, ‘I need to go load the dishwasher!” Laughing harder as he begins tickling your side, showing no mercy.

“Oh no, ya don’t. Can’t leave me all alone in this bed, naked and….naked,” he whispers into your ear, moving his hands down further underneath the covers. And well, you suppose he’s right.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, there in front of your dishwasher; unloading an already clean load of dishes, stood Harry.

You admired him for a minute. All 6 feet, broad shoulders and robust chest, of him that is. He pulls out a dish towel from your kitchen drawer, and you can’t help but notice how familiar and comfortable he is in your kitchen. You clear your throat to make yourself known.

“Wait a minute..” you begin walking towards him, as he turns around from buffing the forks off with the dish towel. “Let me get this straight? You’re handsome, funny, a millionaire, make the most amazing vegan omelettes ever, can give me four orgasms during only foreplay, AND you do dishes?”

“Correct,” he answers back smirking, moving to the island to finish chopping some fresh strawberries on the cutting board. “Problem?”

“Nah, no problem. Just can’t believe someone hasn’t wifed you up yet” you quip, while stealing one of the strawberries and trying to avoid his light smack on your hand.

He laughs while plating his and yours omelettes on a plate with the strawberries and buttered toast. “Maybe I just haven’t found the right husband material,” he jokes back.

With a quick wink, you simply replied, “Keep this up and I might not let you leave for tour mister”

You look up at him, shyly, wondering how he might take that sentiment. If it bothered him, it certainly didn’t show on his face. He just smiles at you, and lowers to give you a quick peck, tasting of strawberries and something all his own. “Maybe that’s my master plan,” he whispers against your lips, before going in for another kiss. Deeper this time, his intentions clear in how he grips your thighs and squeezes your hip.

He lifts you up onto the counter, omelettes pushed aside and forgotten, moving to kiss your neck and the top of your breasts. “Harry..” you sigh out, pulling his hair to get him to stop and focus on you for a second.

He looks at you with those evergreen eyes and lips flushed from how hard he kissed you before and it just comes out. You don’t mean to say it, in fact, you never thought of yourself as the girl who says it first. But there in that moment, you couldn’t deny what you felt. “I love you,” soft and faint, but you said it.

He stares at you for what feels like hours, but could only have been about 40 seconds. And then he says it back, as hushed as you did; raspy, deep and confident. “I love you too”

You pull him back into your mouth, noses knocking against each other from the force of your kiss. He swipes his pink tongue against your bottom lip, asking for your permission. You grant it undoubtedly.

Harry breaks the kiss, pecking against your jaw, your neck, your sternum…

“Here, let me show you how much,” he purrs into you stomach, kissing his way down your thighs, inches away from where you want him to be. Before he dives in, you hear him mutter

From the pucker of his lips against your hand as he lifted it to his mouth while waiting for the light to turn green; to the way his hand hadn’t left your thigh through the entire evening of dinner and drinks.

He had become quite the master at cutting his food with only the edge of his fork. Casting glances your way as you engaged in conversation with others around the dining table. Willing you to turn your energy to him, to spoil him and only have eyes for him.

Cause his glances had been woven with unbridled lust, that he thought had gone unnoticed by you. Yet, your request just ten minutes prior told him otherwise.

But still he’d declined. Politely.

This breathy chuckle had left his throat around his words, because while his mouth was respectful the thoughts clouding his mind were anything but.

He remembered your blush, only visible to him thanks to his interior car light. The way you had brushed your hair behind your ear and barely muttered your soft, “oh.”

How had you gotten it so wrong?

His touch had been tactile. His eyes, unyielding.

The kiss the two of you had shared in the dark car park before he finally drove you away into the inky night - one that left your lips searing in one second and lifting innocently in the next - as you hit the next set of traffic lights and your thumbs brushed away the rouge staining you left upon him.

All the signs had been there in him wanting to. In you matching him and longing for it too.

Just two consensual adults.

With his head lolled to the side now, he eyed your front door. The downstairs light was still on, faintly giving him a blurred image of you moving around between your kitchen and your living room, letting him know you hadn’t made a move to go to bed just yet.

Keys snatched from the ignition, Harry let the drivers door fling open onto the street. A groan omitted from his throat as he dragged himself out of the car and slammed the door shut.

Dress shoes hit the pavement mockingly beneath his feet, because he had prided himself on being a man of his word.

Had.

The night was cold, blowing into his hands to warm them. Harry tugged on the lapels of his suit jacket to sort himself out.

The light in the hallway showed him to you from inside the warmth of your home. The rapt of his knuckles against your glass caused you to pause your hand before it could pour his nightcap offering.

Through the mottled glass he was nothing more than an abstract shape. An abstract shape that caused a nervous sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Bare feet met the black and white tiles of your hallway from your kitchen, shiver shooting through you from how cold they were. You tried to ignore the shake to your hand as it raised to the handle, lingering longer than you wanted to, not needing to second guess yourself but wanting him to wait that little bit longer.

His back faced you as you opened the door, his head turning to look at you from over his left shoulder as he heard the giving way of your door latch. These owlish eyes and innocent face were peering around the front door as you leaned against the wood and watched him lazily set his eyes on you.

“‘S cold in m’ car.”

And part of you knew you shouldn’t give in. But how could you resist the croak of his tone at the way the cold had gone straight to his chest.

Hand reaching out, palm facing up he almost tripped up your doorstep as he placed his larger hand in your much smaller one. Embarrassed grin slid onto his lips as he looked at you with sheepish eyes knowing his clumsiness hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The clink of his keys as they were thrown into the ceramic pot next to your door - like usual - had you releasing a familiarly contented sigh. His eyes caught yours in the mirror that sat above the hall side table, and you confidently held his gaze.

“‘M parked on a double yellow,” he let you know.

“Well then, better make it quick.”

He propelled himself forward, hands rushing as he fumbled to get you in a decent hold. His hand slid across your jaw and underneath your hair as he cupped at the back of your neck.

You clung to the lapels of his jacket, as your hooded eyes peered up at him. His mouth hovered over yours, green eyes speaking words and seeking approvals that his lips couldn’t bring themselves to utter.

The warmth of your breath mixed with his, as his chest felt tight when he leaned forward and brushed his lips over yours. One, two, three times he enticed, his tongue finding yours as you entwined your arms around the back of his neck to anchor yourself to him.

And as you pulled him down to you with a strong tug, the extra weight had the door beneath you pushing shut, the noise of the catch abrupt against both your ears as you remained fixated on each other.

The sound ignited an urgency between you both that had yet to be felt. His hands were back to grabbing, fingers digging as they slid down the back of your night robe.

Harry’s movements were rushed as he hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his narrow hips so easily. He pressed his pelvis against you as he leaned his chest back.

The gap allowed your hands to ruck up his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers before making quick work of the fastening at the front. The zip gave way to your movements, easily, as the sound caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Your forehead fell against his jawline with a low gasp when you came to realise he was completely naked underneath the expensive outer garment that covered his lower half.

“Mm,” he hummed, nudging his nose at your temple when you found yourself bold enough to brush your hand from around the back of the trouser waistband to the front.

His moan was honeyed, his breath shaky as you didn’t waste time in teasing him. He was pulsing and hot, and had been since you mentioned the idea of him coming inside.

He sighed when your hands ran inside the fabric of his trousers, pushing them down and over his bum and enjoying the tight cut and the way they sat against his stronger and muscular thighs.

As the cold of the hallway enveloped his hard cock, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He was smooth, and firm. Hard enough, but likely to get harder if you played with him a bit and guided him and his leaking tip into you.

“Wha’ you gonna do wi’me?” He soothed, his voice rumbling in his chest. “‘S a funny nightcap this, darlin’. Eh?”

His hand tilted your head back, brushing hair off your forehead and frowning at the soft bump of your head against the wooden door.

“Careful.”

It was whispered and held weight. Too much for a quick fumble as he stood proud between the two of you, wet and ready.

Your chest heaved as you pushed your hips into his and the movement created a space between your hips and the door. Not enough that it didn’t mean you wouldn’t be causing it to rattle and shake some time soon, but enough so it allowed him the opportunity to slide his hands to cup your buttocks.

Harry’s eyes dropped now, as he looked between the both of you and felt the way he glided against your glistening wet warmth. You moaned in unison with him as his tip bumped your clit.

“Take me,” he urged, wantonly. “Put me in.”

His lulls of encouragement had you sliding a hand between your bodies, both sets of eyes watching as your hand gently guided him to your entrance.

Tip now brushing your wetness with purpose, he bit away his fulfilled and triumphant smile as he watched the quirk of your lips when you let your head fall back once more.

Snug.

Satisfied.

Sexy.

You held him in you as he felt you around him. Drawing him closer with a silkiness that he happily surrendered to.

His body shook as he held you, legs holding strong and arms determined to do so too. His chuckle was deep and tapered off into a pleasurable groan as he bottomed out and held you against the door with mainly his hips.

“Took me deep,” his voice choked in disbelief, breathing heavily as his mouth pressed to your cheek. The two of you were still as you enjoyed the sensation that you had created.

He swore this was the deepest you have ever taken him. His balls heavily pressed against you. And he smiled at the thought, but he dare not move, regardless of the press of the heels of your feet to his bare bum.

Yet when he did, he only gave your little nudges first. Grinds that don’t give you the desired audible sound of him shagging you. That was until he did. His rhythm building with each thrust until he snapped forward with enough drive that you were keening breathily at him to ‘do it again.’

And the doors began to rattle, the dull thud created by you both causing you to breathily laugh around the kiss you were sharing.

“I can’t stay away from you,” he admitted, mouthing at the corner of your lips and your smile.’“Don’t know why I’m trying to.”