oneshots4u

[oneshots4u]

GUESS WHO FUCKIN WROTE SOMETHING AGAIN???????? Me xox

I’m super into gang/mob Harry rn so I wrote this as part of a little blurb series 🥺🥺🥺

STRIPPER Y/N and GANG LEADER HARRY (who owns the club obviously) have been dating for about 6 months. He loses his temper with her when tensions in the gang are mounting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You glanced at the clock as the last customers left the bar. 2.30am, an early finish. You opened the door to Harry’s office, smiling at the boys sitting in there.

“Harry, everyone’s gone,” your eyes landed on him. He was at the big leather chair behind a giant mahogany desk. The room was dim and smelled like whisky. He didn’t lift his eyes from his computer, forehead set in a deep frown.

“Okay, darling. Thank you for tonight,” he dismissed you as if you were just any of the other girls. He didn’t even sneak a glance at you standing in your lingerie. Did he forget you’d made plans tonight? Your smile faded slightly, but you just nodded and backed out of the room, sensing he was a little busy.

You changed out of your stage attire and makeup into your jeans, an oversized t shirt and converse, before going back out into the bar. It was completely empty now, even the bar staff had finished cleaning and counting up and had left. You glanced at the clock again: 3.10.

You knocked on the door of the office softly, before opening it and sticking your head in. Everyone was still sat there.

“Hello guys,” you smiled. They all nodded back. “Just to let you know, the bar staff have all left. We’re good to go whenever.” Harry always liked to be the last to leave, but often had to be told when this was as he was cooped up in his office for a lot of the night. This time, he gave you a fleeting glance, nodding curtly. You took this as your cue to leave. Why was he being so weird with you tonight?

You retreated back to the dressing room and sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone to kill some time. You didn’t even realise you’d fallen asleep until your eyes were opening again. Sunlight streamed through the frosted window of the large dressing room. The clock read 5.25am. You rubbed your eyes, exhaustion overwhelming. The level of tiredness you felt was enough to make you want to cry, and your aching muscles protested when you forced yourself up to go to the office once again.

You pushed open the door.

“Harry, is it time to head-“

“Oh would you just fuck off, y/n?!” Harry shouted across the room. All of the men froze. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. You blinked slowly, before simply turning and leaving the room, head hung.

“Mate, do you not think that was a bit harsh?” Niall asked. Harry rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his computer.

“Yeah, I’m not gunna lie Harry, that was a bit uncalled for,” Louis continued, leaning back in his chair to look through the open door to see if you were hovering outside. You weren’t. Harry still didn’t respond, but he softened. The door of the main entrance of the club opened and closed quietly.

“It’s been a really stressful week, guys,” Harry eventually tried to defend himself.

“A stressful week doesn’t mean you take it out on her though. She doesn’t know what’s going on. All she knows is you stay in this room all fucking day then leave her to get home alone when her shift finishes.” Liam was angry at him, and wasn’t trying to hide it.

You’d grown very close to his men since Harry had opened up to you about what he did and who they all were a couple months ago. They’d even have some meetings at Harry’s while you were there, and they didn’t mind you walking in in your pyjamas to make a tea or grab a snack. They DEFINITELY didn’t mind when you came over with something you’d baked that morning. This also meant they were more protective of you. To them, you were one of the gang now, even though Harry would never officially let you join. Whenever you were on the club floor selling drinks, dancing on stage, doing lap dances, one of them was always watching. You’d noticed that whenever someone was particularly disrespectful they’d be removed instantly. They protected you from the creeps in the bar, they stopped the bouncers from hitting on you, they even would watch you get into your car and leave if Harry wasn’t driving you, so if they had to protect you from their boss, they would.

“She can’t keep fucking bothering me!”

“Why not? Because you won’t talk to her about work so she doesn’t actually know you’re stressed out?” Harry was stumped with that one. “Mate, you need to use your brain. She’s got no idea why you just shouted at her. She’s got no idea about the threats or the cancelled shipments. All she knows is her boyfriend is acting like a dick. Go find her and apologise.” Liam borderline demanded. Harry glanced at his watch and had to do a double take. It was 5.30?! You’d finished work three hours ago and had stayed around for him, and he’d thrown it back in your face. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, he simply nodded and stood, picked up his jacket, and swept out of the club.

Driving home, he grew more and more frustrated. He realised all the things that he had done wrong, he couldn’t imagine how you felt. Of course, he didn’t want you involved in the gang in any sense, but you didn’t know a single thing they did, so how could you have known there had been threats on peoples’ lives this week? People had even been seen hanging around the club, checking it out, scaling it up. You couldn’t know, all you knew was your boyfriend had made your favourite food and you were gunna go back to his place after work for a cosy night. He prayed you’d gone to his house.

Throwing open the front door, Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief when his eyes landed on your handbag and shoes tossed to the side. You’d come home. He bounded up the stairs three at a time to come find you, but skid to a halt when he met you on the landing. You were holding a duffel bag. You’d been crying. Slowly, you placed the bag on the floor and looked up at him with a steely glare.

“Sweetheart,” Harry started toward you. “I’m so sor-“

“No!” You shouted, pushing him away from you harshly. His jaw dropped. “No, you don’t just give me a hug and apologise to me and assume everything will be okay!” Tears welled in your eyes and you wiped them away furiously. Harry was taken aback. “You can’t talk to me like that. You can’t treat me like that.” You sounded a lot more dejected now, resigned, tired. It was at this point Harry noticed the bags under your eyes. “You kept me up so late last night, and you knew I was working tonight.” He couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto his face when he thought of what you’d been up to the night before. In a fit of pure rage, you threw the makeup bag in your hand at him. He dodged it.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. It’s not funny. Carry on.”

“I just figured you needed some time away from me for a little bit. All of my stuff is here,” you explained, looking down at the bag you’d packed. “I can’t find my glasses, though, so if you see them can you-“ you were cut off by Harry snatching the bag from the floor and stalking back into his bedroom. “Harry!” You shrieked, following him. By the time you’d caught up, he had already taken out your toiletry bag and was unpacking it in the bathroom. His back was turned, but in the mirror you could see his expression. He looked angry, he looked hurt. Slowly, you came up behind him, placing a hand on his back. His fingers were trembling when he placed your toothbrush back beside his.

“Harry, talk to me,” you whispered, sensing something deeper was at play here.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, still turned away from you. “I didn’t- didn’t know what time it was. Shit’s been so bad lately. I really didn’t mean to lash out at you, darling.” You sighed. You wanted to forgive him, but he had lashed out so easily. Noticing your hesitation, he turned around to finally look at you. He looked pained. “Please don’t go,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I know I hurt you. You don’t have to forgive me, but please stay.” Honestly, you were shocked at you emotional he was. This man, this huge, tattooed, mysterious man with a gun strapped to his hip, was almost in tears over you.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll stay.” Harry’s shoulders relaxed at this.

“Can I touch you?” He asked quietly. You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your lips. Instantly, you were swept up in a bone-crushing hug, feeling Harry’s face buried into your neck. He inhaled deeply, sounding a little shaky. You reached up to scratch his scalp in the way he loved, and heard him mumble an “I love you.”

You froze.

So did he.

“What?” You asked. Harry pulled away to look at you, a small smile making his dimples show. “Harry, what did you just say?”

“I said “I love you”,” he replied casually, in full confidence. His arms moved to hang around your hips. You could physically feel your heart fill with joy.

“I love you too,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him. He kissed you back feverishly, passionately. This kiss held every emotion you’d both felt for the past hour, it was tender and understanding. It connected you. Without you even realising, tears had begun to spill from your eyes. Harry pulled away quickly, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong, darling?” You sniffled deeply.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you, and pushed you, and threw my makeup bag at you,” you whimpered. Harry giggled quietly.

“I deserved it, don’t be silly. Now, I believe I owe you dinner,”

“It’s 7am,”

“I cooked you dinner, so let’s have dinner for breakfast,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DOES ANYONE WANT A PART 2????? WHERE HE ~really~ MAKES UP FOR IT? 😏😏😏😏😏

[oneshots4u]

what is the “AND I GET THE FEELING THAT YOU’LL NEVER NEED ME AGAAAAAINNN” gonna look like in the video I am not mentally or physically prepared to see that part visually

[oneshots4u]

My little cousin knows how much I love Harry so she always sends me things she’s sees of him likemusic videos, new songs, etc. & today she sent me this

[oneshots4u]

Have 👏🏼 sex 👏🏼 with 👏🏼 me 👏🏼

+

[oneshots4u]

this is literally the prettiest thing i’ve ever heard in my life, harry sounds so soft and beautiful. wow

[oneshots4u]

The Art of NOT Being Subtle by Harry Styles

People always wonder how the hell I could know that Harry is a sexual kinky fuck, well this is a masterlist of proof: 

(*Disclaimer: This masterlist may be updated, feel free to add some more examples if I missed any 😉)

Keep reading

[oneshots4u]

The Crumpled Range Rover

SUMMARY - after Y/N’s car breaks down, she uses Harry’s, but some paps think it’s her famous boyfriend in the car and will do anything to find out where he’s going.

WARNINGS - we love angsty Harry 

“Harry?” you spoke timidly through the phone, nibbling your lip nervously.  Your boyfriend was so looking forward to having a lazy day in the house, and you hated to disrupt him.  In his living room, Harry’s brows furrowed as he sat up straight.

“What’s wrong?” his question came out more like a statement.

“My car broke down.  I’m at the garage, can you come get me?” he smiled slightly in relief.

“Of course.  I’m on my way, gorgeous.”

Walking through the door, you pecked his cheek again.  

“Thank you for rescuing me,” you giggled.  He smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist loosely, placing a soft kiss on your lips, then your forehead.  

“That’s okay, want me to drive you to work tomorrow?  You’ll have to take a cab home though, I have a meeting in the afternoon.”

“No, no,” you smiled.  He knew you never wanted any favours from him, which was why you still worked a minimum wage job and drove a twelve year old car.  He had offered to buy you a new one countless times, but you had always point-blank refused, not wanting him to throw his money around, no matter how much he had.  

“I’ll insure you on one of mine for the week until yours is fixed then, yeah?  So you can still drive yourself about?”  You sighed in defeat.  “Come on, even normal boyfriends would do that!” he laughed, tickling your sides.  You laughed and swatted his hands away.

“Fine, fine!” he stopped, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for another kiss.

The next day, you were all set up to drive Harry’s Range Rover, knowing you’d feel safer in a bigger car than a little sporty one.  Even so, a Range Rover is much, much larger than an old Mini, so you were still a little cautious.  In the morning, as you buttoned up your work shirt and picked up your apron, Harry lay in bed watching you, hair ruffled and messy, chest tattoos poking up from under the duvet.  

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” he asked you for the fourth time since the prior evening.

“I’ll be fine, babe, I’ve been driving for years!  Just in much smaller cars!” you smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and running your fingers through his unruly curls.  His green eyes searched yours for a second, as if trying to see if you were certain.

“Okay,” he whispered eventually, sitting up to see you off to work.  He kissed you through the window of the car, as he did every day.  “You look kinda sexy in a big car, you know?  Like one of those rich mums, or a sugar baby,” he laughed.

“Wow, thanks!  Even more of a reason to want my own car back,” you laughed back, leaning up again to plant a final kiss on his lips. 

“Drive safe, have fun at work, I’ll see you tonight!” he shouted after you as you pulled out of your garage.

Cruising to work, humming along to the radio, you felt okay!  Obviously you were more careful than usual, because not only was this car like a freaking monster truck compared to yours, it was a LOT more expensive, and the first big purchase Harry had made with the money from his album, and he loved it.  You couldn’t help but notice, however, that the same car had been following you all the way from Harry’s.  This wasn’t uncommon for you, paparazzi often followed Harry’s cars, but you had never been the one driving as it had happened.  You remembered a corner you could cut off, which usually managed to get some distance between the cars, but you’d have to swing in at the last minute so they couldn’t follow you.  As you grew closer, your knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, and you took a deep breath as you spun into the side street.  So far so good.  At the end of the road, you rejoined the main road to the city that the paps were still on.  Stopping at the junction, the whole road was clear.  You pulled out as the same car whipped around the corner at an unreal speed.  Neither of you could break on time.  You heard the crunch of the side of Harry’s favourite car, before you span a couple times, brakes screeching.  You hadn’t realised you had been screaming until the car finally stopped moving.  Your hands were still firmly planted on the steering wheel, but your eyes were squeezed tight shut, too scared to survey the damage to the car, or yourself.  

“Harry?” you whispered into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned you again.  Your lip wobbled and eyes shut again.

“Harry, I’m really sorry,” you started to cry.

“Love, what’s happened?  Where are you?” you couldn’t speak.  All you could do was sniffle deeply.  “Babe talk to me, I’m coming to find you.” you could hear fumbling on the other end of the line as he gathered some of his things and told the people in his office he had to leave urgently.  

“The car,” you whispered again, pulling your knees to your chest from the stretcher in the ambulance.  “I crashed your car, I’m so sorry,” you heard a gasp from him.

“What?!  Are you hurt?  What happened?”

“A little,” you wiped your eyes roughly, glancing down at your bruised body.  “I’m at the shortcut, there were paps and I was trying to lose them, and they hit me, and your car is ruined.” you borderline cried out, looking up at the completely wrecked side of the Range Rover.  “I’m so sorry, Harry!  I think they’re going to have to scrap it-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the car, Y/N.  Don’t worry, yeah?  I’ll be there in ten.”

The expression on Harry’s face when he arrived was a hurricane of emotion.  He looked angry, scared, and upset as he searched around for you, taking in the sight of both wrecked cars, ambulances, and police cars.  Eventually his eyes landed on you, sitting on a stretcher in an ambulance, wrapped in an aluminium blanket, bandages peppered down your body, tears streaming down your face.  He stood amongst the wreckage, frozen and completely overwhelmed.  You were right, the Range Rover was completely caved inwards, and the door was lying separately on the ground.  He let out a dry sob.  They had had to cut you out of the car?  He needed to be with you.  Now.

“Babe?!” he shouted, running through the carnage to be closer to you.  Your head whipped around, eyes landing straight on your wonderful boyfriend.  His arms wrapping around you felt like home.  You started crying into his chest, taking in loud gasps between sobbing fits. 

“Shhhhh, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, eyes flitting over the bloodied bandages on your arm.  “What’s all this, darling?  Why are you crying?  Does something hurt?” he stroked your hair gently, trying not to let you see the tears in his eyes.

“I was so scared,” you cried, breaking down into another batch of sobs.  

“Hey, hey, shhhh.  I’m here, yeah?  Everything is okay,” he told you, kneeling in front of you to wipe your tears.  

Almost too quiet to notice, a camera shutter sounded off in the distance.  

You felt Harry harden around you for a second, before letting go of you and spinning abruptly to the paps gathered by the scene.  “Oi!” he started.

“Harry, don’t,” you grabbed his arm and looked up at him pleadingly, but he was beyond stopping, yanking his arm from your grip.

“It’s people like you that caused this!  Look at this!” he gestured to the wreckage around him, seeing red.  “YOU ALMOST KILLED MY GIRLFRIEND!” he shook with rage, storming closer to the small crowd.  “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE!  WE AREN’T A FUCKING SHOW.  WE AREN’T ENTERTAINERS!  YOU’RE LITERALLY ENDANGERING OUR LIVES, AND STILL STANDING HERE PLASTERING PHOTOS OF US ON THE INTERNET LIKE IT’S NOTHING!” he glared at them, taking deep breaths, tears in his eyes, before turning back around to see you.  He scooped you up in his arms, sat down on the stretcher, and cradled you softly.  Brushing your hair off your face, he looked at you guilt ridden.  “They thought you were me, and they followed you,”

“That’s not necessarily true, Haz,” you mumbled, holding his hand.  You both knew, however, this was more than likely the truth, and they had tried to follow Harry somewhere, not expecting to hit his waitress girlfriend.  If anything, they were probably relieved that they hadn’t hit Harry and it had just been you.  You were disposable, replaceable.  You weren’t a global treasure, nor were you talented, or famous, or cared for by many people.  Even if this did make the news, it would be forgotten about in a week.  If Harry had been hit there would have been total outrage, revolts from fans, news coverage for weeks until the paps were behind bars.  You looked up at him and cupped his cheek with your hand.  “Can you take me home?” 

You tried so hard to hide how hurt you actually were, but even walking set your aching muscles on fire.  You thought Harry wouldn’t notice, but his eyes barely left you for the rest of the day.  He took his meetings over the phone, refusing to even leave the room you were in.  He even cooked you your favourite food and you ate under a blanket in front of the TV.  

“Harry, you don’t have to do this,” you had started, taking the plate from him when he had brought it over.

“Yes, I do.  Honestly, Y/N, so many things that happened today made me feel so sick.  Seeing all the cars wrecked, hearing you crying on the phone, seeing those people taking photos of us, the sight of you in that ambulance…” he paused and you glanced up at him.  He was staring into his bowl of food, tears brimming.  “You just looked so… so broken.  You keep saying you’re lucky to only have bruises but I see you wincing every time you move.  You could have died, babe, and it literally all would have been because of my job.” you stayed quiet.  Not only was he probably right, he wouldn’t have allowed you to argue any differently.  He reached over and squeezed your hand softly.  “I love you,” he whispered.  You smiled softly, tears now dancing in your eyes.

“I love you too,” he smiled back at you.  After dinner, he carried you upstairs, lying down on the cool sheets with you.  You snuggled into him as closely as you could, as his fingers traced up and down your arm.  Suddenly, you had a small revelation.

“Shit,” you whispered.  Harry leant back slightly.

“What?  Am I hurting you?”  His eyes searched your body quickly.  You shook your head, running your hands through your hair.  

“I didn’t call work,” you started.  Harry looked confused.  “I didn’t tell them what happened.  To them I just didn’t turn up, they don’t know.  I was on a final warning anyway after the last time I missed work.”  Harry smirked slightly, remembering the day you spent in bed nursing a colossal hangover after a party.  “I’m so fired.”  You looked up at the ceiling, brows furrowed, quickly trying to work out how you were going to afford to survive while you recovered.  Harry stroked your hair softly.  

“I’ll call tomorrow and explain, yeah?  But honestly some time off will be good!  You’re going to have whiplash from hell, darling, and you’re gunna be in pain for a while, I’m sorry to say.”  You nodded in defeat.  Harry leant down to kiss your forehead softly, then stood up.

“Where are you going?”  You looked up at your stretching boyfriend, glancing at the tattoos that peeked out from under his t shirt.

“I’m making us tea, and I have to make a few calls, yeah?”  You nodded sheepishly, remembering the meeting Harry had to abandon to come get you.  

Harry returned to your bedroom ten minutes later, with tea in your favourite mug and his phone jammed between his shoulder and ear.  

“Okay, thank you.  Also, redirect all my emails for the next week please?  Thank you, thanks, bye.”  

“Why are you getting your emails redirected?”  You sat up, taking the tea from his ringed fingers.  He smiled slightly.

“I just called in and said I was taking two weeks off work, and I don’t want emails for some of that time,” you looked up at him, an expression of confusion etched across your face. “We’re suing the tabloid that those paps work for and making sure they change their training so more dangerous things stop happening.  I also left your work a voicemail saying you needed at least two weeks to recover from a car accident.  We’re going away this weekend.”  Your eyes widened.

“But, Harry, the album-”

“Fuck the album.  If anything positive has come of this, it’s put a lot into perspective.  I need some time with my girl, okay?”  You softened slightly, seeing his slightly flushed cheeks, messy hair, unbuttoned work shirt, and eyes filled with love and still carrying the ghosts of fear and concern.  You smiled, opening your arms for him to come back to bed.

“Okay,” 

[oneshots4u]

Have sex with me 😍

[Outtake] Harry Styles for Rolling Stone. Photographed by Ryan McGinley.

[oneshots4u]

MASTERLIST

Aiming to update at least once a week!  Requests always open, drop me a DM and let’s have a chat!

So far my masterlist is kinda short but I have so many pieces in my backlog you have no idea what’s about to hit you

Harry Styles

A Few Days Off

SUMMARY: Y/N is with Harry on his world tour, and suddenly everything is a bit too much for her

WARNINGS: anxiety attack

Listening Party

Summary: Y/N goes to Harry’s studio to listen to his finished album, where things go a little pear-shaped at the worst possible moment

Warnings - sexy times lie ahead, other than that there’s not much to warn about!

When the Party’s Over

SUMMARY - Y/N and Harry are at a party, when she gets some unwanted attention from a stranger.  Fluffy, angsty, and fluffy again!

WARNINGS - a bit of violence, suggested attacking, not much other than that!

My Brave Girl

Summary: Y/N is a singer performing at a festival in America.  She is suddenly hit with a pang of anxiety during her performance and her boyfriend Harry has to come help her.

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks

FP Jones (from my old blog!)

Reveal

Summary - Y/N is Archie Andrews’ sister, and is friends with the whole squad, but they’re about to find out that she has a secret relationship with one of their friend’s parents

Warnings - age gap (reader of legal age), anxiety, panic attacks, implied sexual relations

Serpents Never Let Eachother Go

Summary - Y/N is a young serpent, and her boyfriend FP Jones has a one night “engagement” with Alice Cooper. She does not deal with finding out about it well.

Warnings - age gap (legal reader), violence, mentions of blood, mentions of sex

Torturous Love

Summary - FP gets made leader of the Serpents unexpectedly, and the opposing gang need someone to pass on a message for them

Warnings - extreme, quite graphic violence!

[oneshots4u]

A few days off

YA GAL IS BACK

SUMMARY: Y/N is with Harry on his world tour, and suddenly everything is a bit too much for her

WARNINGS: anxiety attack

FLUFFY, WHOLESOME, PROTECTIVE HARRY

Disclaimer: this was inspired by another one shot but I can’t for the life of my find it again to credit it! As soon as I find it I’ll tag the original writer 💖

During his world tour, you hadn’t missed a single second of one of Harry’s shows. Your heart swelled every time you watched him do what he did best, and you wanted to be there every step of the way. A month in, however, you started to feel the excitement falter. It became harder to wake up and look forward to a day of busy people running past you and shouting down walkie talkies, or Harry’s frowning face when the tech would be faulty. If anything, the excitement died down and unmasked how truly uncomfortable you were, and how madly overwhelmed the experience was making you. You knew yourself though, you knew you just had to adjust to the travelling life and then you’d be fine! So, you pushed this feeling aside, and walked under Harry’s arm to every rehearsal, and every show. This was, until a show somewhere in Australia. You’d never been this far from home and were very aware of it. During soundchecks and phone calls, you tried to ask Harry when his next “few nights off” were, but he was either whisked away or laughed, asking why you needed time off at all. You frowned then, obviously you could see how harry felt you didn’t need to rest: you weren’t working, you weren’t up all night, you just watched your boyfriend sing amongst hundreds of extremely stressed people. So you pushed the unease down even deeper. As you did every night, before Harry ran on stage in another beautiful suit, he kissed you passionately backstage. He’d then look straight at you in your usual spot to one side, away from the chaos. So that night, you kissed him back, held his face in your hands, and bid him good look. Watching him out there brought you so much joy, you felt ready for a moment of release from the tension rattling around your body, but when the lights went out and the crowd roared, the sheer volume of it all felt like a punch in the stomach. You stepped backwards a little, almost being able to feel the impact. It only got worse when Harry finally stepped outside. Your brain felt like it was going to explode. Seeing your hesitation when glancing your way, Harry stood still, looking at you with intent before someone in his crew caught his silent signal: “Y/N. Now.”

“Y/N, you okay?” One of the head technicians asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked at harry pleadingly, waiting for him to move, and perform to the thousands of adoring fans rather than watching you.

“It’s too loud,” you replied timidly.

“Can I get some muffs?!” He shouted over his shoulder. You flinched at his booming voice before taking the big yellow earphones from him. The muffled, quieter screaming calmed you down a little. You sighed then, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Harry nodded then, seemingly satisfied with your level of comfort. As the concert ran on, the lights seemed to be getting brighter, dazzling you with every rotation. You frowned and looked at the ground, trying to focus on something dark. The lights were too much though and all of the space around you flashed white. Unable to endure the heightened experience any longer, you shook your head, turning on your heels and rushing away, back to Harry’s dressing room. In the interval, you managed to hear the music stopping, and expected harry would just hang around chatting to his crew until he had to go back on. However, less than thirty seconds from the last line of the final song, the door of the dressing room burst open, and a sweaty, suited, extremely concerned Harry strode in. As soon as his eyes landed on you on the couch, he softened while his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Darling,” he started, kneeling on the floor beside you and cupping your clammy hand in his warm one, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, giving the weakest smile. He raised an eyebrow at you. He didn’t even have to vocalise that he didn’t believe you. After all, you were lying on the small couch in the room, your body entirely tensed, one of Harry’s hoodies hanging off your body, your jaw clenched. He moved a hand to stroke your hair and your closed your eyes, screwing them shut before feeling your bottom lip begin to wobble. This just made you feel so much worse. The anger you felt at yourself for not being able to hold it together began to push you over the edge.

“Sweetheart, shhhhhh,” he whispered, pulling your smaller frame even closer towards him and sitting you up. You pushed your face into his shoulder. “Darling you need to tell me what’s wrong.” His voice, although full of love, was assertive. With that, you let go of the tension you held in your muscles, allowing your body to tremble aggressively. Your legs shook and your hands reached up to hold onto the back of his shirt. You felt him gasp when this started, as one of his hands stroked your bouncing thigh while the other arm wrapped around your waist.

“I think I’m having an anxiety attack,” you whispered, trying to concentrate on the feeling of the expensive material between your fingers. Harry nodded.

“It’s okay baby-“

“Harry it’s time to go!” Some woman shouted from the door of the changing room. You clung onto him harder, needing the tiny amount of comfort he was able to give you here.

“I need a minute!” He shouted back, hands over your ears. He moved back then, face level with yours. “What can I do babe? What’s caused all this?” The crowd was chanting Harry’s name now.

“It’s too loud,” you whimpered, feeling the pressure of thousands of people wanting Harry back for another fifteen minutes. “It’s too loud and I don’t feel safe,” you managed, before breaking down in tears.

“Oh darling, it’s okay! Everything is okay! You’ve got security around you all the time, yeah? And I’m always looking back for you. I was worried when you weren’t there anymor-“

“HARRY YOU NEED TO GO!” A voice boomed.

“I NEED A MINUTE!” He shouted back, rolling his eyes.

“Harry, just go,” you muttered weakly, flopping backwards against the back of the couch with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. He shook his head, eyes full of pain from seeing you this way.

“Do you want to stay here until I’m finished? Or do you want to go back to the hotel with Rob?” You picked at the hem of his hoodie.

“I can’t have Rob, babe, he’s your security guard.”

“Rob will do what he has to do to make me feel safe and happy, and you being more calm will make me safe and happy. Do you want to stay here for a little bit or are you gunna go back and wait at the hotel? I won’t be far behind you.” He stroked your thigh as the crowd began roaring again.

“HARRY-“ Jeff was now outside the door.

“JUST A MOMENT. PLEASE.” He looked back at you, waiting for a decision. Your thoughts felt like they were a hurricane, going so fast and completely out of control. “Baby, pleas-“

“I’ll go back,” you whispered, shocked by your own response. Harry leant forward and kissed your forehead strongly. “My brave girl,” he whispered, before going to the door of the dressing room. You heard a gasp and a “finally,” from Jeff before Harry announced: “before I go on, Rob is taking Y/N back to the hotel.”

“Harry you’re not negotiating with me. Get on stage. Now.” Jeff sounded so angry, and it was your fault. You pulled your knees up to your chest and started shaking again, tears welling up.

“Rob?! ROB.” Harry shouted over his angry team. “You’re taking Y/N back to the hotel now.”

“Harry, I have to stay with you,”

“I don’t give a fuck. Y/N needs to go back. Take her back. She only feels safe with you.” The crowd was erupting once again as there was a moment of quiet in the group outside the door.

“Okay,” you heard a resigned Rob say.

“Thank you,” Harry breathed, turning back and entering the dressing room again. He gave you a squeeze and kissed you again. “You go with Rob, darling, and I’ll be back before you know it, yeah? Shhh now, it’s okay,” he rubbed your legs, feeling the shaking. “Baby I really have to go, and so do you, yeah? Come on,” he mumbled softly, pulling you to your feet. You wobbled slightly. With an arm protectively slung around your shoulders, Harry brought you to the door. Before Jeff could start shouting again, his eyes landed on your figure. You looked weak and pale. Your usually excited and happy eyes were now puffy and stared at the ground. You moved your hair to be in front of your face with shaky hands. Jeff nodded at harry, before beckoning Rob back over. Harry turned to you, hands on your shoulders.

“You have to be brave now, okay? As soon as you’re in the car you’ll be safe, and then when you’re in the room you are the safest. The hotel security will be at the door and rob will come back for me. I’ll be there within an hour.” You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again. “I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too. Good luck,” you whispered back, before Harry was whisked away again. You stood alone for a minute, before hearing Harry get back on the stage and the crowd scream. Rob had stuck around to see his safe arrival, then made a beeline for you.

“Ready?” He asked. You nodded before following him through winding corridors and cavernous rooms. “The car is at a different entrance, less people there.” He explained. You felt a little relief at that. When the back door opened and the cool night air hit you, you sighed softly. But then someone spotted you.

“Oh my God! Is that Y/N?!” Then a much smaller eruption started. But it was enough to scare you. You knew you couldn’t be there any longer. You froze up, completely panic stricken. Rob’s arm came towards you and grabbed your wrist softly, making you move quickly to the car. You jumped in and flopped back against the cool leather. Feeling the car pull away was blissful for a moment, before the guilt took over. This was about Harry, not you. You’d made all these fans wait so long for the final songs, and people had seen you leave early. You frowned and leaned against the door, wondering how something as simple as watching your boyfriend work could have gone so wrong. Pulling up to the hotel, the crowd of people was a different story. Fans and paparazzi alike stood and craned their necks to glimpse the superstar. Rob got out of the car before opening your door and wrapping a big arm around your shoulders. Cameras flashed in your face and shouts of your name circled you. Pushing through and shouting, Rob manoeuvred you toward the doors of the hotel. You couldn’t feel your legs, but you kept moving, keeping your eyes down and Harry’s hood up. The cold, quiet, marble lobby was a welcome rush of calm. The storm outside was still happening, with cameras flashing through the windows. Numbly, you followed Rob into the elevator and down the corridor to your suite.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Rob, giving a (probably inappropriate) hug before stepping into the room. You heard him tell another member of security what was going on, before they switched places so Rob could return to the arena. You stood in the doorway, kicking off your shoes, then entered. The living area had been cleaned, the room service dishes from earlier had vanished and the pillows had been plumped again. Turn down service had been completed in the bedroom, finished with a bottle of wine in a bucket and some snacks on a silver plate. In the kitchen area, a tray was set out with a selection of teas, coffees and mugs, and a new, night time room service menu sat there. You glanced over the options before rolling your eyes. You didn’t want swordfish or truffle mac and cheese. If anything, you just wanted normal food. You needed some normality. You made yourself a cup of tea and padded back into the bedroom. Clicking the TV on, you shimmied out of your jeans and pulled your bra off from under your t shirt. You lay down in the bed then, amongst twenty plush pillows and a thick, crisp, duvet. You had only finished half of your tea before hearing the door click open, and hearing Harry wander in. You looked at the door to see him holding the menu.

“Wanna get food?” He smiled, wiggling it towards you. You giggled quietly.

“I don’t want any fancy food, I just want normal food.” Harry made his way to the phone. “What are you doing?” He just smiled.

“Hi, I was just wondering if we were able to get food that’s not on the menu here? We just want some pizzas. What’s my room number? 1210.” He smirked slightly, hearing the person on the other end of the line gasp. They knew this was not only the best suite in the hotel, but that they had a very important guest staying there. “Thank you. Can we get a Hawaiian and just a margarita? Thank you so much.” He smiled, hanging up the phone.

“You shouldn’t do that!” You scolded him, slapping his arm gently. “But thank you,” you smiled shyly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, stroking your hair out of your face. You just shrugged.

“Kinda numb at this point. Leaving was definitely the right thing to do but I feel so guilty now.” He frowned, stroking the back of his fingers down your face and neck to settle on tracing patterns on your arm.

“Don’t feel guilty about this, okay? It’s not your fault and nothing you could have done would have changed the outcome of this. I have a few days off this weekend and we can do whatever you like. I’m sorry I didn’t realise earlier, darling.” You shook your head then.

“It’s not your fault either, though. I knew I felt uneasy but I just ignored it. I know I shouldn’t do that but I know I’ll be fine in a couple days.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry I missed a lot of the show.” You whispered, looking down at the mattress and fiddling with the bottom of Harry’s shirt.

“I’d prefer you missed shows and felt safe than dragged yourself out here and hated it.” He responded quickly, moving your face up to look at him. “I love you so much, and you’re always physically safe at my shows. Mentally you might not be, but that’s up to you to tell me or to take whatever steps you have to to prevent this happening, yeah? I don’t mind for one second if you miss fifty shows! If you’re happy, then I’m happy, okay?” He looked deep into your eyes.

“Okay,” you whispered back, letting him kiss you passionately.

[oneshots4u]

My jaw dropped

Harry Styles on the cover of the Rolling Stone September 2019 issue

[oneshots4u]

I’ve had a super fun idea for a fic!

It’s totally different to everything I have written and isn’t even similar to the stuff I normally read, but the idea came to me and I’m going to run with it! Some really fluffy, protective, wholesome Harry coming very soon!

[oneshots4u]

THREE HUNDRED NOTES??? W H A T

Listening Party

HARRY STYLES ONE SHOT

FLUFF, SMUT, THEN FLUFFY AGAIN

Summary: Y/N goes to Harry’s studio to listen to his finished album, where things go a little pear-shaped at the worst possible moment

Warnings - sexy times lie ahead, other than that there’s not much to warn about!

~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” a lady behind the desk at Harry’s studio smiled at you.

“How are you?” You smiled back.

“We’re all good here! He’s waiting for you in his studio, can I get you anything?”

“No thank you, I’ll go through and see him,” you grinned, starting down the corridor to the recording booth.

Knocking on the door timidly, your stomach bubbled with excitement. You didn’t know exactly why Harry had called you this afternoon, telling you to come to the studio this evening, but he sounded excited. You’d dressed simply, in a little button down dress, knowing Harry had left this morning in a white t shirt and jeans. It would only be you two in the studio at this time.

“Come in!” His voice rang out from inside. You opened the door and stuck your head into the room.

“Are you taking visitors, Mr Styles?” You asked in your best impression of his assistant. You saw him smile even though he was facing away, and he spun around in his chair.

“Only one, today,” he opened his arms, and you ran to him, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“Why did you want to see me?” You took his hands in yours, standing in front of him.

“It’s finished,” he stated simply.

“The album?!”

“The album is finished!” He shouted, standing, wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around.

“Oh I’m so proud of you, gorgeous!” You laughed, kissing him again, harder this time. He set you back down gently, then pulled you into his lap in the plush office chair.

“Do you want to be the first to hear it?” You looked at him excitedly.

“Are you sure?” He just laughed at your response, leaned forward to the control panel, and pressed play. “Meet Me in the Hallway” came first, and you swayed to it gently, until the sound of Harry’s beautiful voice ringing through your ears, paired with his long arms around your waist and breath dancing on your shoulder became too much. You shifted in his lap, leant down and kissed him with all the passion you could muster. You could feel him smiling through the kiss, obviously taking this as a sign that you already loved the album and you were only half way through the first song. His arms squeezed around you tighter, pulling your body flush to his, as your arms snaked around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair and heard him take in a long breath, finally able to relax after months of endless work. When the song ended, he pulled away, leant forward again, and pressed “shuffle”. The opening chords of “woman” played out into the small room. You giggled, unable to hold in any more of the happiness you felt. Your boyfriend was finally able to relax and enjoy his work, and you were finally able to enjoy him. As if he had read your mind, he stood up, grabbing your arse as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He smirked and kissed you again, biting your lip as he pulled away. Slowly, he lowered you onto the small couch in the room and climbed on top of you between your legs. You’ve never felt more passion or need in your life. He lowered his head and kissed your neck softly, instantly finding the spot you loved most. You gasped and craned your head back, tugging at his curls softly. His hands caressed your body as he nibbled your skin, making you release a tiny moan. You bit your lip and blushed.

“Let it out, baby, everyone will be gone by now,” his voice was low and soft, he glanced up at you to see your eyes roll back in pure joy at the sound of his voice. He laughed breathily as he started unbuttoning your dress.

“I feel like I should be doing all the work, it’s you we’re celebrating right now,”

“Shhhh,” he whispered, gently pulling your dress down. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and I haven’t been able to give myself to you. Let me do what I’ve been desperate to do.” You blushed even deeper as you nibbled the end of your thumb shyly, a huge smile spread across your face. He smirked as he looked down at your boobs, you knew he loved it when you went braless. “Fuck,” he mumbled. You looked up at him confused. He sat back, taking you all in. Your flushed face, dress lying on the floor, nipples hard and arms fidgety, covering yourself the best they could. He smiled as he grabbed both of your hands. “Let me see you,” he mumbled, as he scanned your whole body. You saw his eyes widen as they landed on the obvious wet patch in your underwear, and your legs crossed instinctively from the attention. He smirked and pulled them open, licking his lips. You lifted your hips as he pulled your underwear down, dropping them on the floor beside you, and climbed back up to kiss your neck again. He sucked your sweet spot, earning a few whimpers and hair tugs. It wasn’t until his fingertips met your clit that you realised just how much you needed this. How long had it even been since your last orgasm? You threw your head back and gasped at first contact, and felt him smirk against you. His fingers worked away at you perfectly, moving in tiny, fast circles. Your back arched and your legs grew numb, as you moaned his name and a plethora of curses. He reached a finger down and gasped softly. “You are so fucking wet,” he bit his lip.

“That’s because you’re so good,” you panted back, your voice coming out in more of a whine.

You felt his legs shift between yours, before his head poked at your entrance. He looked up at you, silently asking if you were ready. You responded by lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He pushed inside of you slowly, watching your face carefully as your eyes squeezed shut, registering the pain you felt, before you slowly relaxed, adjusting to him once more.

“You good?” He breathed, looking down your body. You nodded eagerly as he started moving, long and slow thrusts filling you. You moaned and dragged your nails down his arms, head lolling back. Watching you writhe in pleasure was incredible to him. Harry slowly sped up, and before long your bodies were working together, moans of each others’ names, sweat and saliva mingling together as you kissed once more. He leant over you, pounding into you faster and harder than ever before, and smirked at you as he watched your eyes roll back. Harry’s album was still blasting through the room, harmonising perfectly with the noises he was making in your ear. His lyrics flowed through your body: “She’s such a good girl, she feels so good,” filled your ears at the perfect moment, as both of you raced towards your climax. Your breath became shallow and your moans much more desperate.

“I’m gunna cum,” you whispered, as all the muscles in your body tensed. Harry grabbed your hips, holding you still as he pounded you faster again. You squealed, teetering on the edge of euphoria.

“Fuck, cum for me, Townes,” he mumbled. All movement ceased. You looked at eachother with wide eyes. “Shit,” was all he could say. ‘Carolina’ was still ringing out in the room, both of your racing heart beats the only other sound. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.

“Wh... what did you just call me?” You whispered. Both of you were still frozen in position, enveloped in shock. “Could you get out of me, please?” You mumbled, finally looking away. He quickly pulled out of you and scrambled to his feet, grabbing your dress and pulling it over you. He then pulled on his underwear and turned the music off. You sat up and looked at the floor, not really knowing how to feel.

“Babe?” He whispered, standing over you. You frowned a little bit. “Gorgeous, talk to me,” he knelt down and used his finger to lift your chin. “I’m so sorry,” he moved your hair out of your face. Your thoughts whirled around your head at lightning speed: why would he call you his ex girlfriend’s name? Why were you struggling to feel any particular emotion? This was Harry’s day, and you were celebrating him, you couldn’t be upset with him, could you? Was it a compliment that you reminded him of her? She’s beautiful! Or was he thinking of her the whole time? Has she heard this song? Did he fuck her to this song? Why did he fuck you to a song about his ex?!

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, managing a half smile. It didn’t reach your eyes. He looked at you unsurely. You reached up to his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. It was still flushed pink and hot. “It’s fine,” you said, before standing up. “Shall we go home? What do you want for dinner?” You picked up your bag and started towards the door. He looked at you, observing, before standing and following you out.

“I ordered some pizzas,” Harry stated, walking back into the living room after taking a cold shower (he had to shake himself out of ~the mood~). He was only wearing his jeans from earlier. Water droplets glistened on his chest and dropped from his hair. He looked effortlessly sexy. You chastised yourself for looking at him that way, remembering the reason you hadn’t finished earlier. You smiled up at him from the couch as he lifted your legs and sat down, lying them back over him. He looked at you sceptically. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you again. You sighed.

“Why are you determined that I’m not?”

“You always wear your emotions like a fucking bright yellow hat. Everyone can see them. They’re never hidden.”

“I’m not hiding anything, I’m just not sure how to feel,” you looked at him, defeated. He looked puzzled. “This is your day, yeah? Your time to relax. You’ve finally finished working,”

“But if you’re upset with me I want you to tell me,” he mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“I know babe, and I will if I eventually feel that, but right now I just need to process, I think,” you faltered toward the end of your excuse. You were telling the truth, but it’s hard to sound so certain of yourself when you’re in a completely foreign situation. “I love the album, or what I heard of it,” you smiled, sitting up. He smiled weakly. “I think ‘woman’ is my favourite so far,” your fingertips brushed through his hair. “I’d like to hear the rest of it, obviously whenever you want to. You’ve probably listened to it a million times by now,” he chuckled and pulled you up into his lap, kissing your cheek.

“I really have. I’ll have a little break from it then listen to it all with you, I promise,” you pecked his lips gently, feeling his damp hair brush your forehead. You knew you couldn’t help him with his work when he was stressed, but he still wanted you involved through the whole process. You’d probably heard the whole album already, in a strange, disjointed manner, from being asked if a chord progression sounded right, to Harry constantly whistling melody lines in the shower. For him to want to share his debut album with you first was a huge privilege, and you never took it for granted.

That night, you lay in bed together, stealing small kisses, stroking eachother’s hair, backs, arms, wherever you could manage to touch.

“You know,” Harry whispered. “I never got to finish you off earlier,” he smirked. You smiled sheepishly. “And I saw the way you looked at me when I got out the shower. If you wanted, I could help you with whatever it is you might want but won’t ask for?” He made deep eye contact with you, as if he was staring into your soul. As shitty as your end was a few hours earlier, you were definitely still feeling a ~certain way~ about Harry. You nodded a little and he smiled, pushing you onto your back. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, knowing that was probably unlikely. For the second time today, you lifted your hips as Harry tugged your underwear down. Softly, his tongue touched your clit, becoming reacquainted. You wriggled beneath him, managing to find a more comfortable position. One of his hands stroked your hip softly as he began working away at your clit, earning soft whimpers and moans from you. Your hands tangled into his hair as two of his long fingers pushed inside of you. He sucked you up between his teeth when he felt you start to squirm, listening to the change in your breathing, the sound of your voice. He could feel the muscles around his fingers tensing up.

“Let go baby, it’s okay,” he mumbled against you, before diving back in. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned his name, legs shaking and fireworks going off behind your closed eyelids. You let out a long sigh, relaxing back on the bed. Carefully, he removed his fingers and licked them clean. You looked up at him expectantly, but instead of lying beside you ready for his turn, he stood up. You frowned.

“Do you want water?” He asked you softly. You nodded.

“Wait, where are you going? Do you not want head?” You asked. He laughed at the bluntness of the question.

“No baby, I owed you that one,” he smiled, leaving the room. You fell back, panting gently.

As Harry lay with his back to you, snoring, you tossed and turned. Why couldn’t you sleep? You checked the time again: 3.47am. You rolled your eyes and sat up, looking down at your sleeping boyfriend. How many girls had seen this exact sight? How many girls had slept in your side of the bed? You couldn’t bare to think of it, and you never usually would, but you couldn’t help it at all. You wanted to wake Harry, to talk about the whole Townes situation, but he had been so sleepy after working so hard at the studio for over twelve hours. Finally, you decided to go downstairs and make a drink.

Digging through the cupboards, you tried to find your favourite tea in the dimly lit kitchen. Never mind, you could use something else. The kettle was bubbling away as you opened the cupboard full of your mugs. Where was your favourite one? You searched all the way through but your favourite pink speckled one was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, this was what broke you. You fell to your knees on the cold kitchen tiles, crying as quietly as you could, trying desperately to take deep breaths and calm down.

“Babe?!” You heard Harry coming down the stairs. Fuck. Before you even had a chance to move, he was in the kitchen doorway, looking at you. “Baby what’s wrong?” He crouched behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. Your body shook with concealed sobs.

“I can’t find my mug,” you whispered. You felt his breath as he giggled. “I can’t find my mug or my favourite tea, and my boyfriend fucked me to a song about his ex girlfriend then called me her name while he was inside of me and it hurt a lot,” You rambled quickly, finally letting an emotion take over. You slumped over further, sobbing uncontrollably. Harry stood and left the kitchen, leaving you alone on the tiles. You cried harder, hugging yourself and leaning against the cupboard door. He returned a minute later with a blanket, and wrapped it around your bare arms, before pulling you into his chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be upset but I am,” you nuzzled further into him, wanting to just disappear from this moment, wanting this day to never have happened and to try again tomorrow.

“Don’t apologise babe, it’s my fault, yeah? I’m kind of relieved actually, I didn’t like not knowing how you were feeling.” He mumbled, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. “I’m sorry I fucked you to that song, it just came on and we were so in the moment. I was so busy worrying you wouldn’t like it because of who it was about that I said her name. I promise I wasn’t thinking of her like that.” You sniffled and crawled into his lap. He smiled slightly at having a rare glimpse of you at a more vulnerable place. His fingers stroked your arm softly. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you babe,” you sniffled again.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Just don’t do it again,” he shook his head.

“I would never.”

[oneshots4u]

prompts

compilation of prompts by me, and many others to hopefully inspire you♡

cute/fluff:

“I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

“you make me feel alive. for the first time ever, i feel like i can breathe”

“i fucking love you” “hang up, and tell me this when you’re sober”

“i really want to kiss you right now” “do it then”

“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

“i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met”

“Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought I should move it so I could see you better.”

angsty/sad:

“i dont know how to exist in a world without you”

“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”

“did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

“no. the moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.” 

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

“i swear, if you say another word, i’ll leave.”

“that ship has sailed. i’ve had my one great love already”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!”

“if i asked you to stay, would you?” 

“i don’t know who you are anymore”

“of course i still love you. but i hate myself for it.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

“i can’t have this argument with you again” “but-” “no. i’m done”

filth:

“Seeing you between my legs is so hot.”

“I may or may not have left some….marks.”

“I think we were a little too loud last night.”

“Really? You wanna have sex….here? Now?”

“the noises you make are incredible”

“You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour - time to show me what, exactly, was on your mind.”

“we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!”

“she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

“bite your lip once more, i dare you”

“what you gonna do about it, stud”

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

“god i love your hands” “lets put them to good use then”

“i know you can be louder than that.”

“come on. i want the neighbours to hear you scream”

“do you like that? like being in control?”

funny/miscellaneous:

“Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right from your lungs.”

“Did you just slap my ass?” / “Actually, I firmly grasped it.” / “Did you just quote Spongebob?”

“I’m not a damsel in distress. i’m a damsel doing damage.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if i came with instructions.”

“where have you been all my life?” “hiding from you”

“shut up with all that soulmate shit”

“I’d punch you, but that’d ruin that pretty little face of yours.”

“sorry, is that supposed to impress me?”

“Maybe you should leave the cooking to me.”

“so it’s a date?” “nope. not a date” 

“it’s because i’m so attractive isn’t it?” “i say this. and i cannot stress this enough. i find you completely repulsive.” 

“alright daddy long legs, next joke please”

credits to some of the accounts whose prompt lists inspired this one: @connorshero, @starman-thorsus-canos-jock, @glitterquadricorn, @calumsendgame, @alloveroliver, @justforshitsandcackles, @whcczes, @hellsdemonictrinity, @poeticparker, @dresupi

[oneshots4u]

i still have a lot of feelings about this… he’s like a warm butter croissant as well as a newly bloomed forget-me-not

[oneshots4u]

Listening Party

HARRY STYLES ONE SHOT

FLUFF, SMUT, THEN FLUFFY AGAIN

Summary: Y/N goes to Harry’s studio to listen to his finished album, where things go a little pear-shaped at the worst possible moment

Warnings - sexy times lie ahead, other than that there’s not much to warn about!

~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” a lady behind the desk at Harry’s studio smiled at you.

“How are you?” You smiled back.

“We’re all good here! He’s waiting for you in his studio, can I get you anything?”

“No thank you, I’ll go through and see him,” you grinned, starting down the corridor to the recording booth.

Knocking on the door timidly, your stomach bubbled with excitement. You didn’t know exactly why Harry had called you this afternoon, telling you to come to the studio this evening, but he sounded excited. You’d dressed simply, in a little button down dress, knowing Harry had left this morning in a white t shirt and jeans. It would only be you two in the studio at this time.

“Come in!” His voice rang out from inside. You opened the door and stuck your head into the room.

“Are you taking visitors, Mr Styles?” You asked in your best impression of his assistant. You saw him smile even though he was facing away, and he spun around in his chair.

“Only one, today,” he opened his arms, and you ran to him, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“Why did you want to see me?” You took his hands in yours, standing in front of him.

“It’s finished,” he stated simply.

“The album?!”

“The album is finished!” He shouted, standing, wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around.

“Oh I’m so proud of you, gorgeous!” You laughed, kissing him again, harder this time. He set you back down gently, then pulled you into his lap in the plush office chair.

“Do you want to be the first to hear it?” You looked at him excitedly.

“Are you sure?” He just laughed at your response, leaned forward to the control panel, and pressed play. “Meet Me in the Hallway” came first, and you swayed to it gently, until the sound of Harry’s beautiful voice ringing through your ears, paired with his long arms around your waist and breath dancing on your shoulder became too much. You shifted in his lap, leant down and kissed him with all the passion you could muster. You could feel him smiling through the kiss, obviously taking this as a sign that you already loved the album and you were only half way through the first song. His arms squeezed around you tighter, pulling your body flush to his, as your arms snaked around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair and heard him take in a long breath, finally able to relax after months of endless work. When the song ended, he pulled away, leant forward again, and pressed “shuffle”. The opening chords of “woman” played out into the small room. You giggled, unable to hold in any more of the happiness you felt. Your boyfriend was finally able to relax and enjoy his work, and you were finally able to enjoy him. As if he had read your mind, he stood up, grabbing your arse as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He smirked and kissed you again, biting your lip as he pulled away. Slowly, he lowered you onto the small couch in the room and climbed on top of you between your legs. You’ve never felt more passion or need in your life. He lowered his head and kissed your neck softly, instantly finding the spot you loved most. You gasped and craned your head back, tugging at his curls softly. His hands caressed your body as he nibbled your skin, making you release a tiny moan. You bit your lip and blushed.

“Let it out, baby, everyone will be gone by now,” his voice was low and soft, he glanced up at you to see your eyes roll back in pure joy at the sound of his voice. He laughed breathily as he started unbuttoning your dress.

“I feel like I should be doing all the work, it’s you we’re celebrating right now,”

“Shhhh,” he whispered, gently pulling your dress down. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and I haven’t been able to give myself to you. Let me do what I’ve been desperate to do.” You blushed even deeper as you nibbled the end of your thumb shyly, a huge smile spread across your face. He smirked as he looked down at your boobs, you knew he loved it when you went braless. “Fuck,” he mumbled. You looked up at him confused. He sat back, taking you all in. Your flushed face, dress lying on the floor, nipples hard and arms fidgety, covering yourself the best they could. He smiled as he grabbed both of your hands. “Let me see you,” he mumbled, as he scanned your whole body. You saw his eyes widen as they landed on the obvious wet patch in your underwear, and your legs crossed instinctively from the attention. He smirked and pulled them open, licking his lips. You lifted your hips as he pulled your underwear down, dropping them on the floor beside you, and climbed back up to kiss your neck again. He sucked your sweet spot, earning a few whimpers and hair tugs. It wasn’t until his fingertips met your clit that you realised just how much you needed this. How long had it even been since your last orgasm? You threw your head back and gasped at first contact, and felt him smirk against you. His fingers worked away at you perfectly, moving in tiny, fast circles. Your back arched and your legs grew numb, as you moaned his name and a plethora of curses. He reached a finger down and gasped softly. “You are so fucking wet,” he bit his lip.

“That’s because you’re so good,” you panted back, your voice coming out in more of a whine.

You felt his legs shift between yours, before his head poked at your entrance. He looked up at you, silently asking if you were ready. You responded by lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He pushed inside of you slowly, watching your face carefully as your eyes squeezed shut, registering the pain you felt, before you slowly relaxed, adjusting to him once more.

“You good?” He breathed, looking down your body. You nodded eagerly as he started moving, long and slow thrusts filling you. You moaned and dragged your nails down his arms, head lolling back. Watching you writhe in pleasure was incredible to him. Harry slowly sped up, and before long your bodies were working together, moans of each others’ names, sweat and saliva mingling together as you kissed once more. He leant over you, pounding into you faster and harder than ever before, and smirked at you as he watched your eyes roll back. Harry’s album was still blasting through the room, harmonising perfectly with the noises he was making in your ear. His lyrics flowed through your body: “She’s such a good girl, she feels so good,” filled your ears at the perfect moment, as both of you raced towards your climax. Your breath became shallow and your moans much more desperate.

“I’m gunna cum,” you whispered, as all the muscles in your body tensed. Harry grabbed your hips, holding you still as he pounded you faster again. You squealed, teetering on the edge of euphoria.

“Fuck, cum for me, Townes,” he mumbled. All movement ceased. You looked at eachother with wide eyes. “Shit,” was all he could say. ‘Carolina’ was still ringing out in the room, both of your racing heart beats the only other sound. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.

“Wh... what did you just call me?” You whispered. Both of you were still frozen in position, enveloped in shock. “Could you get out of me, please?” You mumbled, finally looking away. He quickly pulled out of you and scrambled to his feet, grabbing your dress and pulling it over you. He then pulled on his underwear and turned the music off. You sat up and looked at the floor, not really knowing how to feel.

“Babe?” He whispered, standing over you. You frowned a little bit. “Gorgeous, talk to me,” he knelt down and used his finger to lift your chin. “I’m so sorry,” he moved your hair out of your face. Your thoughts whirled around your head at lightning speed: why would he call you his ex girlfriend’s name? Why were you struggling to feel any particular emotion? This was Harry’s day, and you were celebrating him, you couldn’t be upset with him, could you? Was it a compliment that you reminded him of her? She’s beautiful! Or was he thinking of her the whole time? Has she heard this song? Did he fuck her to this song? Why did he fuck you to a song about his ex?!

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, managing a half smile. It didn’t reach your eyes. He looked at you unsurely. You reached up to his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. It was still flushed pink and hot. “It’s fine,” you said, before standing up. “Shall we go home? What do you want for dinner?” You picked up your bag and started towards the door. He looked at you, observing, before standing and following you out.

“I ordered some pizzas,” Harry stated, walking back into the living room after taking a cold shower (he had to shake himself out of ~the mood~). He was only wearing his jeans from earlier. Water droplets glistened on his chest and dropped from his hair. He looked effortlessly sexy. You chastised yourself for looking at him that way, remembering the reason you hadn’t finished earlier. You smiled up at him from the couch as he lifted your legs and sat down, lying them back over him. He looked at you sceptically. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you again. You sighed.

“Why are you determined that I’m not?”

“You always wear your emotions like a fucking bright yellow hat. Everyone can see them. They’re never hidden.”

“I’m not hiding anything, I’m just not sure how to feel,” you looked at him, defeated. He looked puzzled. “This is your day, yeah? Your time to relax. You’ve finally finished working,”

“But if you’re upset with me I want you to tell me,” he mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“I know babe, and I will if I eventually feel that, but right now I just need to process, I think,” you faltered toward the end of your excuse. You were telling the truth, but it’s hard to sound so certain of yourself when you’re in a completely foreign situation. “I love the album, or what I heard of it,” you smiled, sitting up. He smiled weakly. “I think ‘woman’ is my favourite so far,” your fingertips brushed through his hair. “I’d like to hear the rest of it, obviously whenever you want to. You’ve probably listened to it a million times by now,” he chuckled and pulled you up into his lap, kissing your cheek.

“I really have. I’ll have a little break from it then listen to it all with you, I promise,” you pecked his lips gently, feeling his damp hair brush your forehead. You knew you couldn’t help him with his work when he was stressed, but he still wanted you involved through the whole process. You’d probably heard the whole album already, in a strange, disjointed manner, from being asked if a chord progression sounded right, to Harry constantly whistling melody lines in the shower. For him to want to share his debut album with you first was a huge privilege, and you never took it for granted.

That night, you lay in bed together, stealing small kisses, stroking eachother’s hair, backs, arms, wherever you could manage to touch.

“You know,” Harry whispered. “I never got to finish you off earlier,” he smirked. You smiled sheepishly. “And I saw the way you looked at me when I got out the shower. If you wanted, I could help you with whatever it is you might want but won’t ask for?” He made deep eye contact with you, as if he was staring into your soul. As shitty as your end was a few hours earlier, you were definitely still feeling a ~certain way~ about Harry. You nodded a little and he smiled, pushing you onto your back. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, knowing that was probably unlikely. For the second time today, you lifted your hips as Harry tugged your underwear down. Softly, his tongue touched your clit, becoming reacquainted. You wriggled beneath him, managing to find a more comfortable position. One of his hands stroked your hip softly as he began working away at your clit, earning soft whimpers and moans from you. Your hands tangled into his hair as two of his long fingers pushed inside of you. He sucked you up between his teeth when he felt you start to squirm, listening to the change in your breathing, the sound of your voice. He could feel the muscles around his fingers tensing up.

“Let go baby, it’s okay,” he mumbled against you, before diving back in. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned his name, legs shaking and fireworks going off behind your closed eyelids. You let out a long sigh, relaxing back on the bed. Carefully, he removed his fingers and licked them clean. You looked up at him expectantly, but instead of lying beside you ready for his turn, he stood up. You frowned.

“Do you want water?” He asked you softly. You nodded.

“Wait, where are you going? Do you not want head?” You asked. He laughed at the bluntness of the question.

“No baby, I owed you that one,” he smiled, leaving the room. You fell back, panting gently.

As Harry lay with his back to you, snoring, you tossed and turned. Why couldn’t you sleep? You checked the time again: 3.47am. You rolled your eyes and sat up, looking down at your sleeping boyfriend. How many girls had seen this exact sight? How many girls had slept in your side of the bed? You couldn’t bare to think of it, and you never usually would, but you couldn’t help it at all. You wanted to wake Harry, to talk about the whole Townes situation, but he had been so sleepy after working so hard at the studio for over twelve hours. Finally, you decided to go downstairs and make a drink.

Digging through the cupboards, you tried to find your favourite tea in the dimly lit kitchen. Never mind, you could use something else. The kettle was bubbling away as you opened the cupboard full of your mugs. Where was your favourite one? You searched all the way through but your favourite pink speckled one was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, this was what broke you. You fell to your knees on the cold kitchen tiles, crying as quietly as you could, trying desperately to take deep breaths and calm down.

“Babe?!” You heard Harry coming down the stairs. Fuck. Before you even had a chance to move, he was in the kitchen doorway, looking at you. “Baby what’s wrong?” He crouched behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. Your body shook with concealed sobs.

“I can’t find my mug,” you whispered. You felt his breath as he giggled. “I can’t find my mug or my favourite tea, and my boyfriend fucked me to a song about his ex girlfriend then called me her name while he was inside of me and it hurt a lot,” You rambled quickly, finally letting an emotion take over. You slumped over further, sobbing uncontrollably. Harry stood and left the kitchen, leaving you alone on the tiles. You cried harder, hugging yourself and leaning against the cupboard door. He returned a minute later with a blanket, and wrapped it around your bare arms, before pulling you into his chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be upset but I am,” you nuzzled further into him, wanting to just disappear from this moment, wanting this day to never have happened and to try again tomorrow.

“Don’t apologise babe, it’s my fault, yeah? I’m kind of relieved actually, I didn’t like not knowing how you were feeling.” He mumbled, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. “I’m sorry I fucked you to that song, it just came on and we were so in the moment. I was so busy worrying you wouldn’t like it because of who it was about that I said her name. I promise I wasn’t thinking of her like that.” You sniffled and crawled into his lap. He smiled slightly at having a rare glimpse of you at a more vulnerable place. His fingers stroked your arm softly. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you babe,” you sniffled again.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Just don’t do it again,” he shook his head.

“I would never.”

[oneshots4u]

I WANT TO WRITE AGAIN SO BADLY

Someone help me out with some ideas, I’m missing my man and all in my feels 😩😩