#inside s2

—

you'd been killing it so far during your time on inside. you and george had both been a bit worried that people might accuse you of having unfair advantages, being closer friends with the sidemen than the rest of the contestants, but fortunately (and unfortunately), those fuckers did anything but play favorites with you. it had been a rough few days.

grateful wasn't the word when you found out you were going in with a friend, and with george being a similarly awkward, quiet person in new social settings, the two of you clung to each other a fair bit at the start. he was also the only one who knew you were dating harry, and it helped to have at least one person aware of the extra layer of torture you were experiencing, seeing your boyfriend almost every day and having to pretend you weren't enduring a whole challenge separate from the games all on your own: ignoring him.

you didn't expect it to be so difficult — not wanting to jump harry's bones every time he caught you staring and gave you a smug wink, or every time you caught him staring and he went adorably red, face spreading into a cheeky lopsided grin. hypocrite, you mouthed at him while no one was looking, sticking your tongue out between your teeth.

of course, he and the boys intentionally made shit difficult.

they purposefully made sure you were placed near him during group shots, but just far enough apart to make you wish you were closer.

if each member of the sidemen was getting a contestant ready for a challenge, harry'd make a beeline for you every time — attentively tucking your hair behind your ear, slowly buckling your helmet under your chin, tightening the strap gently, his eyes locked on yours. it would take everything for you not to tackle him to the floor.

he'd whisper stupid little jokes to you through the PA system when you were alone in a room, just in time for someone to catch you smiling to yourself like a weirdo when they entered a moment later.

on day four, he snatched you by the arm after the challenge, sneakily pulling you away into a dark corner and grabbing your face with both hands, planting a hard, hot kiss on your lips. it only lasted a few seconds, and he let go entirely too fast, turning around and walking away, leaving you floating where you'd once stood.

the inside of your lip had been chewed raw throughout the week.

george played both sides, really. he'd be understanding and sympathetic most of the time, but he'd be remiss not to snicker along with the other sidemen at harry's relentless efforts to drive you crazy when opportunity struck. you could hardly blame him. you'd laugh at yourself too.

but you weren't going to let your boyfriend and your friends interfere with your very competitive edge. you had come to win, and you were fully on track to do so. you'd spent about as little money as george, and you'd already made a pact with him to split the winnings if you were the two who made it to the final.

however, everyone was due a trip to the temptation room... and you had yet to be called down. you were certain it would have something to do with harry, but since your relationship wasn't public, you had no idea what would meet you behind that door. and it was day six of seven, so you were destined to find out tonight.

"whatever it is, I think you should take it honestly," cinna chimes in as you and the remaining contestants lounge on the couch. "we still have way more money left than I expected, lowkey. and I know a lot of that is because of you."

george and jason nod in agreement. "yeah mate, you've been impressively stingy," george follows. "I truly did not think you'd survive in here."

you roll your eyes at your friend's backhanded compliment. "gee, thanks bro." you all laugh, but they successfully convince you that you do in fact deserve to give in to temptation, within reason, if it's something you really want. (you and george glanced at each other, knowing damn well it absolutely would be.)

right on cue, the bell chimes, and the sultry robot voice summons you to the mysterious room down the hall.

you look at george again, and he gives you a knowing wink and a single nod. you jokingly salute him like a soldier leaving for war as you head off, the others cheering you on. you stop in the bathroom on your way, and it suddenly occurs to you that you look like a bit of a gremlin, having only taken cold body showers all week as you'd refused to pay for hot showers (and refused to take a cold one nearly long enough to wash your hair). yikes. thank god he already loves me.

nervous energy flows through your body as you reach the temptation room. you take a deep breath as you push the door open, surprised to find the space dimly lit and... empty?

candles light your path to an envelope with your name on it. tearing it open, you read aloud:

your temptation, should you choose to accept it, is hidden in plain sight for £50,000, take a hot shower and be alone with your boyfriend for the night whether this part stays in is up to you, going public can be pretty scary but if you simply can't resist, just say "send me sweet producer harry"

you giggle at the cheesy rhyme, ruminating over the proposal. you suppose that even if you reveal your relationship on camera, the show won't be out for several months and you'd have some time to mentally prepare before the secret actually went public, so you decide to bite the bullet. you hide your blushing cheeks with the card, turning to the camera and looking down the lens. “send me sweet producer harry, please,” you say shyly, almost whispering.

“already here, love.” you jump at the sound of harry’s voice behind you, as he appears from around a hidden corner at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall.

part of you was worried he’d be all dressed up or something for the sake of your extravagant £50,000 temptation, despite how grim you looked in your current state. but no, here he was, in pajama pants and a childish hoodie, hair a perfect mess and a classic cheeky harry smile to match. you can’t contain the grin on your face as you rush over to him.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for the kiss you’d been dreaming about for days. his eyes glowed as you pulled apart, his hands on your waist. “hi baby,” you hum happily, nuzzling against his cheek. you feel his dimples deepen against you. “hey, pretty girl,” he replies in a low voice, kissing you on the temple. “you sure you want to do this?" he asks, pulling back. "like, tell people? we can cut it, seriously. the boys said we don’t have to. it was a dumb idea really I just thought mayb—“

“babe. stop. yes. I’m — I’m ready to. let’s do it.”

“you’re sure? b-because it’s only october and this isn’t out til march so netflix said we had til january to make any final major edits so you can change your mind unt—“

you press your lips against harry’s again, urging him to stop stressing — to believe that you want everyone to know. “I’m sure, harry. I’m... I'm sick of being in the same room and pretending I don’t want to be next to you all the time.”

a small smile tugs at his lips as a light dust of pink fades across his nose and cheeks.

“oh, and also, I’m sick of hearing all the boys talk about how nice your arse is every five minutes when I can’t chime in with my expertise,” you tease, squeezing his bum as you nip at his jaw. he fidgets all giggly before pulling your hands away. “alright alright, behave yourself, darling. cameras are still on.”

"alright alright,” you concede, stepping back. “fine. I do believe I’ve just been granted a hot shower I am dying to take anyway.” he looks at you, eyes narrowing, like he knows that wasn't a complete thought. you lean in to whisper in his ear, “don’t suppose I get to enjoy my boyfriend’s company for that part of the evening too, do I?”

harry’s eyebrows raise. there it is. without looking away from you, he turns his head to the side slightly towards the crew. “CUT.”

the rest of the production team quickly exits, leaving you and harry to your own devices. the temptation room had its own full bathroom, and you’d sleep on the fucking floor if it meant sleeping next to harry, so you were perfectly content staying in here for the next 10-12 hours.

—

“ugh I missed you so much,” you mutter against harry’s lips between increasingly desperate kisses. he smirks against you in response. “you’ve seen me almost every day in here, silly.”

“wasn’t the saaaaame, missed getting to actually be with you… missed touching you,” you specify, running your hands up his chest.

“I know, love. me too, I’m here,” he promises as his soft lips trail down your jaw and neck, setting all your nerves alight with need. your clothes have gradually started peeling away — your hoodies both on the floor, shoes long discarded, shirts on their way out.

you enter the hot shower together, and you feel all your muscles relax instantly. “oh fuck,” you sigh, letting your head fall back against the warm water as you take a deep breath, inhaling the steam filling the space. you’d been more tense than you realized. harry’s hands glide up your torso, over your breasts, trailing his fingers along your collarbones and back down your arms, before pulling you in close against him. “feel good, baby?”

“mmm,” you nod contentedly. “missed hot water.” he brushes his fingers through your hair, getting it fully soaked through and gently untangling your curls. you drop your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he massages your scalp. a soft sigh falls from your lips as his strong digits unravel you, sending tingles down your spine.

you zone out for what you think is no longer than a few seconds, in complete bliss at the sensation, feeling like you might be dreaming.

harry’s hands then leave your scalp and slide down your back, rubbing soft circles into your skin. “you alright, sweetheart?”

you snap out of it, lifting your head and feeling mildly embarrassed. you’d definitely nodded off for a moment. “oh my god, sorry, guess I was more tired than I thought,” you laugh awkwardly. “that felt so nice I guess I just like, passed out. sorry baby, um, let me wash my hair.”

“I-I already did, love,” harry admits, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed himself, for some reason.

only then do you notice the bubbles running off into the drain at your feet. “you.. you washed my hair for me?”

“wow, you really were asleep," he chuckles softly. "um, yeah… you just seemed so like, spaced out and calm and peaceful I.. um, I didn’t have the heart to stop playing with your hair so after a minute or two I thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone, y'know. I hope that’s okay…”

maybe it was exhaustion, delusion from being in a prison cell with no windows for a week, finally reuniting with harry, who knows, but you thought you might actually cry. your heart ached with pure unadulterated stupid love and you felt like you could burst at the seams all because he washed your hair for you.

harry looks concerned, maybe seeing the tears forming in your eyes, but his fear is swiftly interrupted by your lips smashing against his with a newfound sense of urgency.

his arms tighten around your waist as your fingers get lost in his spiky wet hair. your tongue twists around his hungrily, and he drops a hand to grab your arse and pull you closer to him. you tug at his roots and dig your nails into his back, like you’ll die if you don’t crawl into his skin and make camp there.

lifting you by your thighs and crossing to the other side of the shower, harry places you down onto the small tiled bench, your back instinctively arching against the cold surface and into him. his lips and tongue travel along your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin needily, taking care to only mark you where your clothes will cover the evidence. your breath quickens as his hot mouth fans over your nipples, the contrast of his rough, calloused hands against your soft skin making your eyes flutter.

he drops to his knees in front of you under the water, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs, slowly nearing your core as it starts to weep for him. you can't look away — those long, pretty lashes resting over the biggest, bluest eyes you'd ever seen. not the kind you drown in, but rather the kind you get fucking waterboarded by. his soft plush lips, perfectly built for the most devastating grins, for sweet talking his way out of anything, for tearing you apart.

harry licks a thick stripe up your core, a deep groan spilling from you and your head falling back as he pulls your thighs apart, burying his face in between. his lips wrap around your swollen clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, and your hands claw at his shoulders, pulling his hair, whining frantically as you melt under him.

one hand reaches up to tease your chest, massaging and caressing, as the other moves in to join his mouth. a long, thick finger fills your wet heat, and you moan out in pleasure, harry stimulating you in every way he physically can. he pumps his finger in and out of you slowly, pushing deep with each thrust, as he laps at you, kissing and licking through your slick folds, sucking on your aching bud, throbbing as he drives you to a quick orgasm.

he pushes a second finger into your tight pussy, and the stretch has you panting heavily, feeling yourself nearing the edge of the cliff. you tug on the roots of harry's blond locks, muttering obscenities, pleading with him to push you over. "ff-fuck, harry, ohh-ffughh... there... don't stop baby mmfff..."

your eyes shoot open, rolling back as your peak hits you hard and fast. broken moans tumble out of you as harry slows his movements, but doesn't stop. his fingers leave you, but his tongue carries on softly, sending waves of aftershock through you as you come down from your high.

your chest heaves as you fight to catch your breath, looking down at him. he meets your gaze — eyes blown wide, face flushed red, lips wet and swollen and curled into a cheeky smile.

sitting up straight, you put your hands on either side of his face and lean in, his eyes falling closed as you kiss and lick him clean, saving his lips for last.

you pull him up to the bench, swiftly taking his spot on the floor, sinking to your knees in front of him. you wrap your hand around the base of his painfully hard cock without hesitation, without any teasing. he sighs quietly, stroking your face gently before dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you duck your head to take it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, as your fingers slowly start sliding up and down his shaft. he can’t tear his eyes away from you as you sensually suck on his digits, pressing his thumb pad into your outstretched tongue.

once his cock is in your throat, both of harry's hands get lost in your tendrils. he tugs at your roots firmly, your eyes rolling into your head as you drool around him. “ugh fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, the suction around the head making him inhale sharply. you hum at his praise, sending vibrations up his spine.

you take your sweet time with him, trailing the tip of your tongue along every vein, kissing and sucking along his length, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him in all the way. he moans as you bury him in the back of your throat, swallowing around him and gagging slightly, and every filthy sound from him spurs you on. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

bobbing your head up and down, you feel harry’s cock twitch against your tongue. he groans and tenses, and you know he’s getting close. you sit up fully on your knees for leverage and take in as much of him as you can, your eyes stinging with tears as he pulls your hair, panting rapidly as his orgasm builds. “mmmffuck, m’so close baby.”

you swallow around him again, your tongue painting the underside of his shaft as you gag on the tip, a gentle hand cupping his balls and squeezing with the lightest pressure.

harry’s hands fall from your hair and grasp the bench at either side of him as he snaps, his movements stuttering and breath shaky as hot cum pours down your throat. a slightly whinier moan escapes him, and you hum around his cock, the gorgeous sound making your chest go tight. he releases a little whimper as you swallow around him again, sucking him dry. you pull away, looking up at him, wishing you could take a picture of the view.

—

“nice night?” george inquires with a raised brow as you practically skip back into the living room the next morning, on cloud nine after your time with harry.

“a lovely night, yes,” you grin, not feeling particularly obligated to elaborate. you plop onto the sofa in your fresh shorts and t-shirt, feeling brand new with clean hair and refreshed skin after your long, hot shower with your long, hot boyfriend.

suddenly, george bursts out laughing. you look at him confused.

“oh, really? that’s good. perhaps a bit of a bold move to wear shorts when your knees are covered in bruises though, mate.”

your eyes widen as you look down at your knees and see that george is correct. you do in fact have bruises all over your knees. some even vaguely resemble the shower tiles that put them there.

you go totally red and sprint out of the room to put joggers on. not before taking another peek and smiling to yourself about them.

—

later in the day, you’re summoned to the challenge arena, and harry gives you a quick, inconspicuous “hibabyiloveyou” hand squeeze when you walk past him.

as you take your seat next to george, he abruptly starts cackling once again. you look at him like he’s insane, but he just points at harry’s exposed legs, which you’ve now noticed are also covered in bruises. “oh my god, you’re matching!” george chortles with hysterical tears in his eyes. “that’s so cute, you little fuckin’ freaks.”