“Move” - One Shot
This is my ultimate fantasy. I have a lot of fantasies about ocean related things with Harry, or anyone - but this, by far, is my ultimate fantasy. Enjoy ;)
Rating: M (Smut, Daddy)
The evening was hot and muggy, the hair that you had spent hours on earlier today when Harry announced that he wanted to go on a date that evening starting to stick to your now sweaty neck, regret filling your mind about how long it took, and how it will probably go up in some sort of hair tie pretty soon. Trying to find relief you tilted your head backwards and let the strands dangle to the middle of your back, swaying your head back and forth gently to let any type of air in the thick humidity hit the back of your neck. Your eyes slid closed for a minute when air hit your neck, shivers running up your spine. For a minute you thought it was pure luck, like the heavens were listening, but a split-second later you realized you knew where this stream of air was coming from. Your eyes opened halfway and you looked to your right, to the source of the air, and they landed on a set of perfect raspberry red lips, wet from the drink he was sipping on in a shape of an O.
“You don’t happen to have a hair tie, do you?” you groaned and bit your lip, glancing at the top of his head that was still adoring his Dunkirk hair, the shaved bits were now growing back into his beautiful curls. They were not long enough for him to pile any sort of tiny bun on his head, but you still had hope. For a month or two after he chopped it off for charity and it was buzzed for the movie, there was still a hair tie lingering in his pocket or on his wrist out of pure instinct and familiarity. It took him another two months to figure out that he wouldn’t need one, finally ditching them. You thought that maybe if he was growing it back, the hair ties would come back.
He glanced at his wrist, brows pulled together as his arm twisted around and he pouted out, shoving his hand in one pocket, then the other one. He looked at you with sorrow in his face, grabbing at your locks and wrapping them in a circle between his index and thumb finger. Leaning in he blew another stream of air on your neck, the pressure of the wind getting closer until you felt his lips on your skin.