He cheats with you

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Harry: "Hey love," Harry says with a smile, toeing his boots off to crawl across the bed you're lounging on in a random New York City hotel and you roll your eyes at the nickname. "And where does the song writer think you are this time?" You question, shifting your legs apart when he moves to crawl between them and he glares at you. "Can you not do that when I'm here with you?" He questions, leaning back on his knees and you shrug. "It was just a question... or is she that stupid to really believe that you're just out, wondering about the city?" You say harshly, arms crossing over your chest and Harry sighs while scrubbing his tired face with his large hand. "(Y/N) please don't do this, not when I made such an effort to come here to be with you," he asks softly, looking at you with exhausted eyes and you soften for a moment. "Look, it was hard enough to get away from her long enough to come here... I don't need you nagging me like she does every second of the day whether we're together or not," he explains, running his long fingers up your bare calf before tapping out a tune on your knee cap. "Alright, I'm sorry... I don't have the right to nag, I'm not the girlfriend. I'm sorry Haz," you tell him softly, sitting up to press your face against his chest and Harry wraps his long arms around you. "I didn't come here to fight with you, you know," he teases, pushing you back against the mattress before he starts removing his jacket and button down while you stare up at him. "Oh, why did you come here then?" You question with a teasing smile. You watch as he pulls his undershirt off and looks down to your sprawled out position beneath him, your bare legs spread out on either side of his thighs with your dress pooling around your hips and he grins. "For something much more enjoyable," he whispers against your thigh once he's shifted down the bed to pull your clothes off and toss them aside. "How enjoyable?" You question breathlessly, lifting up as he drags your lace panties down your thighs to toss them behind his back before he's shoving his jeans and boxers down his hips. "The kind where I come inside of you while you scream my name," he murmurs against your lips, kissing you for the first time since arriving half an hour ago. "Show me then," you whisper against his neck, legs shifting upwards as he slams into you. Your back arches upwards into his chest, bare breasts pressing against his inked chest as he shifts his angle to draw out your climaxes until he's ready to burst and take you with him. "Oh my god," you moan, eyes rolling backwards as you tilt your head back against the pillow beneath you while struggling to keep up with the fast past Harry's kept while he fucked you into the mattress. He groans at the prayer you sent up, knowing good and well how close to your orgasm you were and he shifts his thrusts again. "Harry, please," you beg against his neck, nails digging into shoulders as he continued his relentless pounding as one of his large hands covers your breast and pinches. "Please, please, please," you continue to beg loudly, clutching at him as everything inside of you tightens until you're in pain. That's when Harry shifts his hips upwards, slamming into your g-spot until you see stars behind your closed lids as you call out his name with your orgasm. Harry's panting in your ear as you squeeze your vaginal muscles around him, trying to coax him into his orgasm until his hips buck against yours. "Oh, shit... yes," he hisses against your jaw, releasing himself inside of you with his orgasm but he continues to pound you into the mattress and his pace only slows with his erratic breathing returning to normal. "Did I live up to my promise?" He asks, pushing strands of hair away from your face as he continues to thrust into you lazily and you smile. "And then some," you assure him, not the least bit apologetic that Harry's cheating with you and has been for some time.

Liam: "Could we have met anywhere more sketch than this?" You question upon Liam's arrival in the seedy hotel room in Paris. "Probably, if I had tried," he teases, ducking inside the room before someone notices him as you lock yourselves into the room. "Next time, can we at least meet somewhere I won't get scabies?" You question, leaning away from his kisses and he sighs. "Sure, whatever... are you going to kiss me or not?" Liam demands to know, settings his hands on his hips as you sit back against the bed with a shrug. "Where'd you tell Danielle you were going?" You question and Liam sighs in exhaustion. "I don't need this," he huffs, intent on leaving; or that's what he tells himself. "Sure you don't, is that why you've been coming to me for months?" You question, crossing a leg over the other and he scowls at you. "I don't need this, you badgering me; that's her job. And that's why I come to you, because you aren't her," he reminds you and you scoff, eyes rolling at his explanation. "Oh please, you come to me because you want to fuck me, because you want someone who isn't uptight and using you for your name," you remind him with a raised eyebrow, begging him to deny your words and he sighs. "Can we not talk about her while we're in this shitty hotel room? I came here to fuck you and I intend to do so," he says, pushing you back onto the mattress roughly but you push him away. "Is that why you brought me to Paris then? Come on Liam, stop lying to yourself," you say, trying to crawl away from him but he tosses you back onto the bed before he cracks his neck in annoyance. "Shut the fuck up, just... shut up" he demands, leaning back on his knees as you struggle against his hold. "Well come on then, fuck me like the whore I am to you," you challenge, sitting up to pull your dress off to reveal that you weren't wearing anything beneath it. "Come on Liam, if I'm your whore then treat me like it," you dare, gasping when he covers your mouth with his for a rough kiss. You stare at him, breathless and wanton, as he shrugs out of his clothes to reveal his painfully hard erection before he crawls over top of you. "Turn over, ass up," he demands, pushing at your hips until you do as he says as he settles behind you. "You want me to treat you like a whore, I can do that," he tells you, fingers gripping your hips tight enough to bruise before he slams into you from behind filling you to the hilt. He doesn't give you time to adjust, just pushes his hand between your shoulder blades until your arms give out and you collapse face first against the mattress as he pounds into you. He leans over you, lips trailing up your spine as he gathers your hair in his hand and yanks you upwards onto your hands. "Say it," he demands, pulling at your hair until you tilt your neck backwards so he can run his teeth along your neck. "No," you counter, groaning when he bit into your bottom lip before he shifted his hips upwards until your gasping and begging. "Say it," he demands again, pushing you down so your cheek rests against the mattress as he pounds into you until his balls tighten. "I'm yours," you remind him, looking up at him and his glare softens. His hand curls around your neck to lift you upwards until your back is against his chest as he continues to thrust harshly, lips trailing up your neck until he can kiss you. His other hand trails down your body before disappearing between your thighs and pushes down and your orgasm rips through you. "Liam" you gasp against his lips, vaginal muscles tightening around him with your orgasm and he groans as he spills inside of you. He collapses over top you, crushing your body to the dirty mattress until he rolls of you. "You know why I brought you to Paris and it isn't for sex" he assures you as you both redress, smiling when you lean forward to press a grateful kiss against his lips.

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