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summary: in which; after years of ongoing, a relationship is bound to have ground rules. They are an aspect of your relationship with Harry, and you have adhered to them without fault. However, there comes one day following a special night when you simply must disobey Harry's one instruction: never touch yourself.
trigger warnings: sexual content, mature themes.
word count: 16.3k
includes: mention of alcohol, flashback, newly-wed/husband Harry, female masturbation, teasing, oral (male receiving), vaginal penetration, cock riding, mention of withholding orgasms, mention of cock warming, written in the second person.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
As the sun rose beyond the horizon, a golden sanctuary of light was created. It obliterated the profound blues that had once permeated the sky and exchanged them for a radiant gold, mother nature's way of welcoming a new day.
Vibrant reds faded into softer oranges, painting the sky in an ombre-esque vision. Fluffy clouds mingled with the colours, diluted whites signifying their condensated fill. Their shapes vary, some appearing to illustrate jumpers on a carousel whilst others looked more like the small ducklings swimming in rivers—albeit they consistently floated in Earth's orbit. None strayed from their path or broke from the loop they had been lacquered in, much preferring their current fate to the one they would meet had they vacated their world.
Such a fact could be compared to Harry's infatuation with you. Ever since the day he first laid his eyes on you, he had become your satellite, orbiting around your centre and basking in the knowledge that nothing was as close to you as he was. He would dutifully accomplish any task you asked of him without complaint nor wish to be anywhere else, swearing by the notion that the day he met you was the day his life truly began.
The two of you had met beneath the normals of pure coincidence, having ended up in the same place at the same time without any means of a construct. It was an uninfected destiny.
One of your closest friends at the time, Serena, had been hosting a party to commemorate the end of the last semester of your third year in university. Despite your belatedness when arriving at the celebration, you had shown up. Your busy class schedule had just come to an end and the coursework you had been attempting to complete in the time of culmination halted immediately once the professor of your last class of the semester uttered a fatigued good day and goodbye.
It was a moment you had been coveting since the beginning of the school year and you couldn't have been more delighted to tuck away your school bag and feel the academic-esque weight lift from your shoulders. You had speculated that it would elicit instantaneous satisfaction, rushing to complete items from your "Summer of Fun" to-do list.
