"God, I missed you," Harry's dropping his duffle bag at the threshold of their shared bedroom, and he's breathing in the familiar scent of the eucalyptus mint candle that she's always burning.
He loves the road– thrives on doing show after show, surprising his fans with a new Gucci suit every night. Harry is like a bursting flame of energy, but right now?
Right now, he was a boyfriend who missed the smell of home, and the feeling of her wrapped up in his arms as well as the sight of her underneath him.
"You're back!" She's on the bed, extremely oversized shirt and underwear the only thing on her body. The collar of the shirt has been cut, making more of her skin exposed due to the scooping nature of the cotton fabric.
"Why didn't you tell me– I would've come to pick you up," While Harry's toeing off his shoes, she's shutting her laptop, placing it on the nightstand, and making her way over to where he stood.
"Thought I'd make it a lil surprise, love," Harry says, hands resting on her hips, pulling her body closer to his.
"Still, you know–" Harry doesn't let her finish because he's kissing her. Head ducking down and just slotting his lips with hers, she lets out a small gasp in surprise but easily returns the affection while wrapping her arms around his neck.
Harry doesn't waste time in letting his hands wander down to her ass, giving it a small squeeze before reluctantly pulling away from the kiss. Her chest is rising and falling already, and he gives her a small, lopsided smile.
"Let's get to bed, yeah?" Five words. Five simple words, yet she knew what he truly meant by them.
Not trusting her voice, she's nodding, her hands moving to cup his face, connecting their lips in a bruising kiss. Harry's grip on her hips tightens as he deepens the kiss, walking the both of them towards the bed until she's falling backward and he's falling on top of her.
"Love the way you look my clothes, petal," Harry's voice is laced with a rasp and he's pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck. "Would look better if you were out of it though."
Moving to stand up, Harry's hands are pushing the hem of the shirt up, exposing the black underwear she was wearing. Though he loved the lace she would wear, there was something about plain, comfortable underwear that would cause something to stir inside of him. He loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to just be with him.
"Harry...please," [Y/N] whispers as he slowly pushes up the fabric, his fingers lightly grazing her skin that was becoming more exposed by the second.
"Hmm? What is it? Please, what?"
"Just fuck me, Harry."
She lets out a huff of frustration and that's when Harry lets one of his hands trail down to her thigh, gripping the supple flesh roughly and spreading her so he could further settle himself between her legs.
"I don't think I like your tone, pet. Wanna be nicer fo me?" Harry has the same lopsided smirk on his face, but his tone is telling her to not forget who has the upper hand in the situation. Harry's left hand is just below her breast, holding her so that his thumb is pressing against her warm skin.
She nods, muttering a small apology.
"You look so pretty, love. I don't even know where to begin," She feels her cheeks tingle a little bit, trying to break into a grin. Harry's looking at her, making her feel almost too hot underneath his gaze, but it doesn't matter because Harry's soon letting his hand, that was once on her thigh, slip under the waistband of her underwear– fingers running between her already wet folds.
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