#Famous!harry

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Love Bites: Part Two

A bookstore barista catches the attention of a vampire drawn to her scent, and everything changes when she invites him in.

Word Count: 7,906

Content warning: mentions of drinking blood and biting.

Part One

Morning sunlight filtered softly through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the bedroom walls. Y/n stirred beneath the sheets, her body slowly adjusting to consciousness. It took her a moment to shake off the heaviness of sleep—and the lingering rush of last night’s memory.

She let out a small yawn and headed for the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light before grabbing her toothbrush. The usual morning routine felt almost surreal today. As she brushed her teeth, her mind drifted back to Harry: his midnight-green eyes, the cool feel of his lips, the firm press of his fangs…

She spat out the toothpaste and reached for the faucet, then paused. In the mirror, two faint puncture marks stood out on her neck—tiny, but undeniably there. Her heart gave a little flutter of recognition. Slowly, almost reverently, she lifted her free hand and brushed her fingers over the marks.

A wave of warmth flooded her chest, dissolving into something that bordered on pure euphoria. It was like reliving the moment he bit her, only this time she felt no fear or shock—just a pulse of lingering pleasure that made her knees feel weak. Even standing there in the bright, ordinary light of day, she could feel him.

After a few heartbeats, she lowered her hand, forcing herself to finish rinsing her mouth. Her thoughts were a jumble of curiosity and a strange, heady excitement. She wanted to see him again. Or maybe needed to see him. At the same time, her reflection reminded her that this was hardly normal—waking up with vampire bites that invoked a delicious thrill instead of terror.

Gently toweling off her face, she took one more glance in the mirror. The marks wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who wasn’t looking for them… but she knew they were there. And she knew exactly who had put them there, too.

She ran her fingers through her hair, exhaling slowly. One step at a time, she reminded herself. That had been Harry’s promise—and her own. It was equal parts exhilarating and nerve-racking to feel so drawn to someone she barely knew. But as she moved back into her bedroom and began pulling on her clothes for the day, her mind was already drifting to the possibility of seeing him tonight.

Would he come by the café? Show up again on her walk home? Or would she find him waiting outside her building like some dark, romantic secret? The thrill surged again at the thought of it. Despite all the unknowns, she couldn’t help but smile. There was no going back to the life she had before Harry—whether she understood it or not, her world had changed.

She glanced at her phone on the bedside table, an itch of impatience tugging at her. There were so many unanswered questions. Yet, as she thought of him—of his cryptic little smiles and careful, tender concern—she felt certain about one thing: she wanted more.

Gathering her bag and keys, she headed out, locking the door behind her with a steady hand. The city beckoned, the promise of another routine day overshadowed by the electric hum in her bloodstream. The marks on her neck might have been small, but they were a reminder of their night together. 

Y/n bustled into the café, shrugging off her coat as she made her way behind the counter. The scent of fresh coffee beans and warm pastries instantly surrounded her, a comforting backdrop to the electric undercurrent of her own thoughts. She couldn’t keep the small smile off her face—even hours after waking up, she still felt that residual rush every time she remembered Harry’s bite.

“Someone’s in a suspiciously good mood,” Ellie teased, eyeing Y/n over a tray of blueberry scones. “Care to explain?”

Y/n’s cheeks heated despite her best efforts to remain cool. “Oh, you know,” she said, forcing an air of casualness, “just enjoying the simple things. Good sleep, coffee in the morning… that kind of stuff.”

Ellie gave her a look that said, “ I’m not buying it.” “And this has nothing to do with that ridiculously attractive guy who visited a while back?” She set down the tray and crossed her arms, a smirk already forming at the corners of her lips.

Y/n tried to stifle a laugh but ended up smiling even wider. “What are you talking about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. “Surely you don’t mean the one with the hair that absolutely doesn’t make me weak in the knees—or the accent that definitely doesn’t make my heart race?”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing a clean rag to wipe the countertop. “So you’re telling me you’re all sunshine and smiles for no reason at all?”

Y/n shrugged, lifting a coffee mug to hide her grin. “Maybe I just woke up on the right side of the bed today.”

Ellie let out a laugh, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Look, if there is something going on, you know I’m here for it, right? I need details.”

Y/n pretended to think it over, tapping a finger against her chin. “Well…” she began, fighting another blush, “maybe I am seeing him again. Maybe soon. But I’m not giving any details just yet.”

Ellie groaned in playful exasperation. “You’re killing me here!”

“Trust me,” Y/n quipped, sliding a to-go cup across the counter to a waiting customer, “you’re better off not knowing all the details.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, picking up on the mischievous gleam in Y/n’s eyes. “Fine,” she said, tossing the rag onto the counter. “But don’t be surprised if I keep an eye out for tall, dark, and mysterious. A girl needs to know what she’s up against.”

Y/n just laughed, feeling a renewed flush spread across her cheeks. Even if she couldn’t tell Ellie the whole truth, it felt good that someone was rooting for her. It was as if her happiness had become something tangible, woven into her every move. And no matter what complications might arise with Harry’s secret, Y/n couldn’t stop that buoyant feeling from spilling over into everything she did. She went about her day with a faint smile plastered on her face. 

When her shift was finished, Y/n stepped outside the bookshop, the sky a sullen gray as rain drizzled in cool sheets. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, adjusting her bag as she started her walk home. Her mind buzzed with all the questions she still hadn’t asked Harry—like how on earth he managed to track her by scent alone, or what his own home looked like. Was it as old-world and mysterious as he was? Or maybe minimalistic, a contrast to his ageless presence?

She’d only walked a block before the rumble of a sleek engine broke through the steady patter of rain. A black car glided to the curb, shadowy windows nearly imperceptible behind the droplets. Y/n slowed, her heart thumping in sudden alarm as the passenger window whirred down.

She was about to snap at whoever was inside—city instincts kicking in—until she realized it was Harry,leaning across the seat. His dark curls were damp but still artfully mussed, his green eyes flicking to hers with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Hop in,” he said, his voice calm through the drizzle, as though offering a simple courtesy.

Y/n hesitated, water already soaking the edges of her shoes. Normally, she’d never climb into a stranger’s car—rain or not. But Harry was not “normal,” and—truth be told—not much of a stranger anymore. Still, she couldn’t stop the wry grin that tugged at her lips.

“You know,” she called over the noise of the rain, “your car could’ve been anyone’s. I was about to tell you to fuck off.”

Harry laughed, the low sound almost lost in the hiss of tires on wet pavement. “I’ll try not to take it personally,” he said smoothly. “Now get in before you catch pneumonia.”

She hesitated just a moment more, scanning his features. There was concern in his gaze, mingled with that sense of quiet confidence she was quickly getting used to. With a sigh—part exasperation, part anticipation—she relented, stepping off the curb and opening the passenger door.

The interior was warm and smelled faintly of leather and something else, something uniquely Harry.She slid onto the seat, closing the door behind her. Outside, the rain drummed against the car’s exterior, but in here, it felt cocoon-like, almost intimate.

Harry pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the city’s damp evening traffic. Y/n pushed back her hood, shaking out droplets of rain from her hair. She snuck a quick glance at him, noting how his profile looked even sharper under the dim overhead light of the dashboard.

“Fancy ride,” she mused, tapping one finger lightly on the immaculate dashboard. “I was half expecting you to roll up in a horse-drawn carriage or something.”

He shot her a sideways smirk. “I save the carriage for special occasions.”

She chuckled, settling into the seat. “And what’s this then? A spur-of-the-moment kidnapping?”

“More like a rescue,” Harry said, slowing at a traffic light. The neon glow of signs outside washed momentarily over his features, enhancing the hint of a smile that played on his lips. “Figured you’d appreciate a ride home in this weather.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered at the casual way he spoke, like they’d done this a thousand times. She cleared her throat. “Well, thanks,” she said softly. “But I warn you: I still have about a million questions.”

He turned toward her, the light catching his eyes. “Ask me anything.”

She tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, wondering where to begin. “For starters… you tracked me by scent? That still blows my mind.”

Harry’s gaze flicked back to the road. “Our sense of smell is heightened,” he explained. “Most of us can track a scent for miles if it’s distinct enough. Yours was… very distinct.” His tone dipped slightly on those last words, as though remembering the allure she carried.

Y/n’s cheeks warmed. “I guess I’m flattered? A little creeped out, but mostly flattered.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver across her skin. “I don’t blame you. It’s not exactly normal. But I hope you’re getting used to the idea that I’m… not exactly normal.”

She bit her lip, unable to hold back a small smile. “Trust me, I’m getting there.”

Another question spilled to her tongue, but before she could ask it, the traffic light changed and Harry turned down a quieter street. She glanced at the passing rows of buildings, illuminated in fuzzy halos from the rain-slick streetlights.

“Are we… heading toward my place?” she asked, noticing they were slightly off her usual route.

Harry hesitated. “I thought—maybe—we could go somewhere else first,” he said, his voice careful. “If you’re up for it.”

A spark of curiosity flickered in her chest. “Where?”

“My place,” he replied simply, his hands steady on the wheel. “I realized you’ve never seen it, and… you said you had questions.”

Y/n’s pulse skipped. His place. She’d wondered what it might look like—had even pictured it in her head. Would it be old-world, filled with antiques? Or sleek and modern? The mere thought of stepping into his private space sent a thrill through her.

She glanced at him, her hand resting unconsciously on the small puncture marks hidden beneath her scarf. “I’d love that,” she murmured, voice colored by equal parts excitement and nerves.

Harry gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “Then it’s settled.”

The rain intensified outside, the roads glistening under the amber glow of streetlamps. Y/n sank back into the seat, stealing another look at Harry as he drove. Shadows played across the curve of his cheekbone, casting his features in a half-light that reminded her just how different he was—and how her world had shifted irreversibly since meeting him.

Yet she couldn’t deny the warmth growing in her chest, that tangible connection pulling her closer. She might not know what awaited her at his house—or how many more secrets she’d uncover—but as she watched the city pass by in a blur of silver and gold, she felt an undeniable rush of anticipation.

He was offering a piece of his world to her, and she was ready to step inside.

Y/n’s breath caught the moment his hand settled on her thigh. Even through her jeans, Harry’s touch felt unmistakably cool—like a whisper of winter air against her skin. She glanced down at his hand, noting the silver rings decorating his fingers, each one reflecting brief flashes of city lights through the window. Fine veins traced along the back of his hand, yet there was an otherworldly stillness to them, as though the blood beneath no longer pulsed with mortal life.

A strange mixture of comfort and curiosity bloomed in Y/n’s chest. She remembered the first time she’d become aware of his temperature—that night on her couch, when his lips had trailed across her jaw. Now that truth was plain to see in the pale, graceful lines of his hand.

She let her own fingers inch toward his, daring to rest them lightly against the back of his hand. “You’re so cold,” she said softly, the faint sound of the windshield wipers filling the silence between them.

Harry kept his gaze on the road, though his lips curved in a slight smile. “It’s… part of the package.” His voice had that gentle undertone that always seemed to let her know he was aware of how strange—how different—he must seem.

Y/n turned her eyes to the rain-blurred view outside, the streetlights bleeding into one another. “Does it ever bother you?” she asked, her voice barely above the rhythm of the wipers. “Being… this way?”

He exhaled, and she could sense the weight in that breath. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Especially when I’m reminded of how far I am from being… human.”

She glanced at him, catching the tension in the set of his jaw. Even as he guided the car through the slick streets with effortless grace, she could see something vulnerable flicker behind his eyes.

“You don’t feel inhuman to me,” she murmured, her fingertips brushing the back of his hand in a comforting gesture. “Strange, maybe. But not inhuman.”

Harry’s grip tightened just a fraction on the steering wheel, and his other hand pressed a bit more firmly on her thigh, as though silently grateful for her words. “That helps,” he said at last, the corners of his mouth curving into a shadow of a smile. “More than you know.”

She let her gaze rest on his profile, her heartbeat steady and certain despite the endless questions swirling in her mind. In that moment, the cold of his touch didn’t feel like a warning—it felt like an invitation into a world different from her own, yet somehow already tied to her in ways she couldn’t explain.

Y/n wanted to ask more, to know the story behind every ring on his finger and the centuries that might lie behind his careful eyes. But with the rain drumming on the windows and Harry’s hand anchoring her to this moment, she decided not to push. One step at a time, she reminded herself. There would be time for questions and answers—long nights and whispered truths.

She slid her hand fully over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. In response, Harry’s thumb traced a slow, reassuring circle over her leg. Outside, the lights of the city blurred and glowed, carving out a small, shared universe within the car’s warm interior.

And as the road bent, carrying them closer to wherever Harry called home, Y/n felt her heart lift. The questions she had could wait—because right now, she was happy just existing in this slice of time, his cool touch grounding them both in the present.

Harry parked the sleek black car in a small underground garage beneath an unassuming brick building. The rain still drummed on the streets overhead, but once inside, all Y/n could hear was the soft echo of her own footsteps. A freight elevator—a curious relic of the city’s past—took them to the top floor. Its cage-like doors rattled open, revealing a hallway lit by old-fashioned wall sconces.

Harry guided her down the hall until they stopped in front of a solid wooden door. Without a word, he unlocked it and pushed it open, stepping aside so she could enter first.

The moment Y/n stepped in, she felt enveloped by a warmth that was undeniably Harry. The room carried his scent—faintly musky, with a whisper of something sweet and unplaceable. She inhaled deeply, a slow sense of comfort washing over her as she took in her surroundings.

Despite the modern furnishings—plush sofa, sleek coffee table, recessed lighting—there were unmistakable touches of antiquity everywhere. A grand, intricately carved mirror hung on one wall, its edges worn in a way that spoke of centuries of use. A weathered trunk with brass fittings served as an end table, stacked with thick, leather-bound books that looked like they’d been passed down through generations. The combination was oddly harmonious: a collision of old-world charm and modern minimalism that felt just right for someone like Harry.

Y/n wandered in a few steps, lightly trailing her fingers over the back of the sofa. “This place is…” She let the sentence hang, searching for the right word.

“Different?” Harry supplied, stepping in behind her and sliding off his coat.

She turned to face him, smiling softly. “I was going to say perfect. But that works, too.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. He seemed relieved by her reaction, as though he’d worried what she might think. “I move around a lot,” Harry admitted, glancing around at the curated mix of old and new. “So, the things I keep…I keep for a reason.”

Y/n’s eyes danced across the artifacts on display. A tarnished candelabra adorned a small table near the window, its silver twisted into delicate shapes. A tall bookshelf showcased rows of volumes both ancient and contemporary, the spines scrawled in languages she didn’t recognize.

She approached the fireplace—modern, but set within a mantle that appeared to be carved from dark marble. It wasn’t lit, but the faint smell of woodsmoke lingered, hinting that Harry sometimes used it. A painting above the mantle drew her attention: a serene, old-world landscape, likely older than any museum piece she’d seen in person.

“This is incredible,” she murmured, turning to look at him. “All of it. It’s so…you.”

Harry shrugged, hands sliding into his pockets as he studied her. “I like contrast,” he said quietly. “Keeping one foot in the past, one in the present.”

She crossed the room and took his hand. His fingers were still cold, but the closeness of the apartment, and his presence, made it feel more comforting than jarring. “Thank you,” she said, her voice gentle. “For bringing me here.”

His gaze flicked down to where their fingers intertwined, then back up to meet her eyes. “I wanted you to see…” he paused, searching for the right words, “this part of me.”

Y/n squeezed his hand, a faint smile on her lips. “Well, I’m here,” she said, releasing a breath that felt like it carried away every last hesitation. “And I want to see everything you’re willing to share.”

Harry’s lips curved in a thoughtful, half-smile. “Then stay as long as you like.”

She glanced around again, letting her senses absorb the warmth, the blend of history and modern comfort, and the intangible presence that was uniquely Harry. A shiver of anticipation threaded through her—because for all the questions still on her mind, she knew with certainty she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Y/n settled onto the plush couch, leaning into the gentle warmth that permeated the apartment. Harry rose briefly and returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses—though he’d already mentioned he rarely drank anything besides blood these days. Still, he poured a small measure of wine into a glass for her, the soft clink of glass against wood echoing in the cozy space.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, accepting the glass. She took a cautious sip, letting the mellow, fruity taste linger on her tongue. Meanwhile, Harry set the bottle aside and eased onto the couch beside her, leaving his own glass untouched on the coffee table.

He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair back from her face in a gesture so tender it made her heart flutter. “You’re perfect,” he murmured under his breath, almost as if he didn’t mean for her to hear it.

Her cheeks warmed, and she lowered her gaze, shy beneath his unyielding attention. “I’m really not,” she replied, taking another sip to hide her sudden rush of nerves. “But… thank you.”

Harry’s lips curved into the faintest smile, though something in his eyes told her he found the statement too simple to convey how he truly felt. A beat of quiet followed—one of those moments that felt charged with unspoken confessions.

Finally, Y/n drew in a breath and turned fully toward him. “Ever since that night you drank from me—” She paused, conscious of how odd and intimate the words sounded, “—I’ve felt… alive in a way I never have before. It’s almost ironic.”

Harry’s eyebrow lifted. “Ironic how?”

She exhaled, struggling to describe the sensation that had been following her around since that night. “It’s like some part of me woke up. And I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s about… you, or what you did, or both. But everything is sharper. Colors seem brighter, food tastes better, I have more energy—even when I’m tired, it’s like my mind is in overdrive.”

He listened carefully, leaning in slightly. “Does it frighten you?”

She took a moment to consider that. “No,” she admitted. “Not exactly. If anything, it’s… exhilarating. But there’s something else, too. A sense of needing—wanting—to be near you. I can’t tell if it’s emotional, or if it’s because of whatever happened with the bite. Or both.”

Harry shifted closer, until there was just a whisper of space between them. “When we feed,” he said softly, “we exchange more than just blood. There’s… an energy to it. A bond that can form. It doesn’t always happen—but when it does, it’s intense. You feel a rush of vitality, and I…” He hesitated, searching her eyes. “I feel everything you feel.”

She swallowed, heart thudding. “So you know this… longing I’ve been feeling?”

He nodded, gaze skimming her features. “I do. And it’s not one-sided.”

Her breath caught, every nerve in her body suddenly aware of the nearness of him—of his faint, familiar scent, of the cool touch of his hand resting on the cushion between them. Setting her wineglass on the table, she turned so that her knees brushed his.

“You said you don’t usually bite people… that it’s rare,” she said, her voice hushed. “Why me?”

Harry reached for her hand, running his thumb softly over her knuckles. “From the first moment I smelled your scent, I knew there was something… unique about you. But it wasn’t just that.” He lifted his gaze, the intensity in his eyes making her chest tighten. “Getting to know you—talking with you—made it impossible to stay away. I couldn’t ignore the pull.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling an inexplicable surge of relief and excitement at the same time. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes traced her face as if memorizing every detail. “So am I.”

In the quiet that followed, the only sounds were the soft hum of the city beyond the windows and the faint ticking of an antique clock somewhere behind them. Y/n’s heart pounded, equal parts curiosity and desire swirling in her. She carefully shifted, turning more fully to him, and he let his hand drift to her knee, cool fingers just pressing through the fabric of her jeans.

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Y/n felt once again that rush of life—of every cell in her body awakening. She had a million more questions swirling in her mind, but as she watched his expression soften, she decided the answers could wait. Right now, she just wanted to bask in the warmth of being here, in his world, in his arms.

“I want to stay,” she whispered.

He leaned in, just enough that she could see the subtle shape of his fangs behind those parted lips. “Then stay,” he murmured, as though it was the simplest request in the world.

Y/n’s next breath felt shaky with anticipation as she reached out and lightly brushed the hair from his eyes. She couldn’t help but smile, heart fluttering in her chest. Leaning closer, she closed the small distance between them—letting the moment swallow them both whole.

They continued kissing, breaths mingling in the low-lit bedroom as Harry carefully lifted her into his arms. Y/n let out a soft laugh, both surprised and exhilarated by his effortless strength. Her fingers threaded through his curls as he carried her down the hallway and into a warmly lit room that felt at once cozy and steeped in untold history.

He set her gently on the edge of a wide bed layered with plush blankets. The scent of him—like aged wood and something faintly sweet—seemed even stronger here, and it sent a pleasant shiver through her. Harry sat beside her, one hand resting on her hip, his lips never straying far from hers. In between slow, languid kisses, he eased them both down until they were lying side by side, the world outside fading to insignificance.

Y/n’s hands slid up the planes of his chest, coming to rest over his shoulders. There was a coolness beneath the warmth of his skin, and something about that contrast, that blend of what he had been and what he was now, made her heart pound.

They lingered like that for a while—just quiet touches and shared breaths—until her mind, always swirling with questions, finally nudged her to speak. She drew back slightly, searching his gaze.

“I want to know everything,” she murmured, brushing a thumb over his jaw. “About you… about your life before… all this.”

Harry’s expression softened, though there was a flicker of caution in his eyes. His hand drifted up to tangle gently in her hair, as if grounding himself with her presence. “That’s a long story,” he said quietly.

Y/n’s lips curved in a small smile. “I’ve got time.”

He took a breath, an unnecessary habit for him, but it seemed to help him gather his thoughts. “I was born in the late 1800s,” he began. “England. A small town, really no big cities around, no tall buildings, no electric lights. My family worked the land. We weren’t rich, but we managed.”

She inched closer, wrapping one arm around his waist. “And you? What was life like for you back then?”

A wistful look crossed his features. “It was… simpler, I suppose. Harder in some ways—less medicine, less comfort but simpler, too. Days began when the sun rose and ended when the candles burned out. My main concerns were harvests and family, making sure we had enough food for the winter.” He paused, letting out a soft laugh tinged with nostalgia. “Never imagined I’d see a century turn, let alone two.”

Y/n’s fingertips moved idly across his arm, feeling the lean muscle beneath. “How old were you when it changed? When… you changed?”

He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching distant memories. “I was barely in my twenties. Not much older than you are now. I was visiting London for the first time—wide-eyed, excited to see the world beyond my village. I didn’t know… what was waiting for me in the city’s shadows.”

She swallowed, torn between fascination and an ache of sympathy. “What happened?”

His gaze flicked back to hers, and his hand resumed its gentle stroke through her hair. “I was attacked. It wasn’t romantic or… even intentional, I think. Just a creature someone like me, but feral who lost control. Left me for dead in an alleyway.” A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “But I wasn’t exactly dead, was I?”

Y/n’s fingers tightened on his arm. “That sounds terrifying.”

Harry’s eyes darkened briefly, as if recalling the horror. “At first, it was. Waking up in a state of hunger I couldn’t comprehend… instincts tearing at me.” He paused, then shook his head with a sad, small smile. “I was alone for a long time, trying to figure out how to live… or not live… with what I’d become.”

Her heart twisted at his words, and she shifted closer, pressing the warmth of her body against his cool side. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, voice laced with genuine compassion. “No one should have to go through that alone.”

He studied her for a long moment, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It was a different world then,” he said softly. “But I managed. Eventually, I found others like me who helped me learn control, taught me how to exist alongside humans without hurting them. Still… it leaves a mark on you.”

Y/n laid her head against his shoulder, comforted by his arm curling around her. “Have you ever wanted to be human again?”

Harry stared at the faint lines on the ceiling, silent for a moment. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “Especially when I see people living ordinary lives—growing old, having children, passing on their stories. That’s something I’ll never experience.” His gaze flicked to hers, and the weight of his centuries pressed in his eyes. “But then I think about how much I’ve seen and done, how many places I’ve been, and I realize… there’s beauty in this existence too.”

She leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw, then settled back against him. “Thank you for telling me,” she said, voice sincere. “I know it can’t be easy to relive all of that.”

Harry’s embrace tightened, and he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “You make it a bit easier,” he murmured. “Easier than it’s ever been, most people aren’t as understanding.”

They let a comfortable silence stretch between them, a quiet acceptance passing in glances and soft touches. His story was a glimpse of the countless tales locked behind his eyes—stories she yearned to uncover. And although those revelations carried their share of darkness, Y/n felt no fear. Instead, she felt an inexplicable pull, deepening her bond with this man who was so much more than human.

Eventually, she shifted, meeting his gaze once more. “If you don’t mind,” she said gently, “I’d like to hear more. Someday… everything you’re ready to share.”

A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “Someday,” he echoed, fingers trailing down her arm. “For now, let’s just… stay here. In this moment.”

Y/n propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze roaming over Harry’s face. He was stretched out beside her, the lines of his expression shadowed by centuries of caution and uncertainty. The longer she looked at him, the more her heart ached to close the distance that still lingered between them—those unspoken fears that came with loving someone not quite human.

She reached for his hand, weaving her fingers through his. “I know it won’t be easy,” she began, her voice hushed. “That it’s dangerous. That… you move around a lot. You’re not like other guys I’ve known—”

He let out a low, almost humorless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly,” he murmured, lifting their joined hands and pressing his cool lips to her knuckles. “I’ve never exactly fit into the ‘boy next door’ category.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “That’s fine by me,” she said, inching closer. “I’m not looking for normal. I’m looking for… you.”

Harry’s expression turned solemn, and he threaded a hand gently through her hair. “You say that now, but if you knew half the dangers—” He broke off, his jaw tightening as though wrestling with words he didn’t want to voice. “There are things about my life that you might not be ready for. Having to uproot everything at a moment’s notice, hiding what I am, never really settling down because… eventually, people notice if you never age.”

Y/n’s chest twisted at the pain lacing his voice. She moved even closer, close enough that the faint warmth of her breath fell against his cheek. “I’m willing to deal with that,” she said softly. “All of it. Because I’ve never felt this connected to anyone before, Harry. I don’t even know how to explain it—you pull me in. I can’t imagine just walking away.”

He studied her, his gaze drifting from her eyes to the shape of her lips, down to the small marks on her neck where he had once bitten her. With the faintest exhale, he closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to regret this,” he said at last, voice tight with emotion. “My life… it can be dark. Lonely. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her hand slid up to cup his cheek. “You keep saying that,” she whispered, “It’d hurt more to walk away from you now.”

Harry’s lids lifted, revealing the turmoil in his green eyes. Hesitation warred with yearning; centuries of caution battling a desire he couldn’t quite deny. “You’d have to give up so much,” he said, almost pleading with her to see the weight of her choice. “Routine, stability, your friends, your family—everything you’re used to. I’m not sure when or where I’ll have to go next. You’ll have to stay unchanged to live life. I can’t take that away from you completely.”

Y/n pressed her forehead to his, heart hammering with both fear and exhilaration. “I’m not saying it won’t be scary,” she admitted. “But it’s scarier thinking about my life without you in it, you’re what I’ve been looking for.”

A shuddering breath escaped him. His arms slid around her, drawing her closer until her head rested against his chest. He said nothing for a moment, simply letting their breathing synchronize. She could feel the cool edge of his body against her warmer one—tangible proof of the gulf between them, and yet how perfectly they fit.

“You’ll regret it if I don’t at least try,” she added gently.

He closed his eyes again, his fingers splaying across her back. “Maybe,” he murmured. “But I don’t want you to lose yourself in all this.”

Y/n swallowed, considering his words. “The only thing I’m afraid of losing,” she whispered, “is you.”

Silence wrapped around them like a fragile promise. Outside, the city hummed with its usual nighttime pulse, but here, in the glow of a single bedside lamp, it felt like they inhabited a small, separate universe. Finally, Harry kissed the crown of her head, the gesture carrying centuries of guarded emotion slowly breaking open.

“All right,” he said, voice ragged with vulnerability. “We’ll figure it out—together. Like I said one step at a time.”

Y/n exhaled in relief, her grip on his shirt relaxing now that she had his answer. She tilted her face up, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her lips, quiet but brimming with all the words he didn’t know how to say yet.

In that unspoken understanding, they both knew the path ahead would be full of risks and sacrifices—but also the kind of profound connection most people never got to taste. So they clung to each other, heartbeats out of sync but souls inexplicably twined. 

When Y/n stirred the next morning, she first noticed the unfamiliar softness of the sheets beneath her cheek. A slow smile curled her lips as the events of the previous night settled over her like a warm blanket: Harry’s stories, the gentle brush of his lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand. She drew in a breath, catching that faint, comforting scent she’d come to associate with him—woodsmoke and something sweet, a blend as mysterious as the man himself.

She pushed the covers aside and sat up, brushing hair away from her face. Through a thin slice of the drawn curtains, she could see a pale light creeping in. Morning already, she thought. Time felt like it had slipped away the moment she’d laid down in Harry’s arms.

A subtle clink of dishes from beyond the bedroom drew her attention. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, padding barefoot along the hall to find Harry waiting in the open kitchen. The space was just as eclectic as the rest of his apartment: modern appliances set against old-world touches—like a vintage spice rack and a wrought-iron pot hanger that looked centuries old.

“Morning,” she said, voice still husky with sleep.

Harry turned at the sound of her voice, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. His curls fell loose over his forehead, and he wore a simple black sweater that set off the striking color of his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied softly. “I, um… stepped out for a bit.” He gestured to a small paper bag and a to-go cup on the counter. “I don’t really—well, you know. But I wanted to make sure you had something to eat.”

Heat rushed to Y/n’s cheeks at the thoughtful gesture. “You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, moving closer.

“Maybe not,” Harry conceded, “but you were sleeping so peacefully, and I wanted you to have breakfast.”

She peeked into the bag, finding a warm croissant and a small container of fruit. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since the night before. Sliding onto a stool by the kitchen island, she offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Harry leaned his elbows on the opposite side of the counter, watching her with quiet fascination as she took a bite of the croissant. Flaky layers melted in her mouth, and she let out a blissful hum.

“Good?” he asked with a crooked grin.

“Delicious,” she confirmed, taking a sip from the to-go cup—coffee, just how she liked it. “You remembered,” she added, a bit surprised he knew her coffee order so well.

“I’m observant,” Harry teased, then shrugged. “Plus, you always write it down for your customers at the café. I picked up a few details.”

She rolled her eyes in playful exasperation. “Stalker.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, but the affectionate warmth in his gaze spoke volumes. He let her enjoy her breakfast in comfortable silence, occasionally handing her napkins or topping off her coffee from a French press he’d warmed on the stove. She couldn’t stop smiling at how domestic it felt—a far cry from the chaotic, surreal realization that he was a vampire who’d once drunk her blood.

When she finished, Harry straightened, gesturing down the hall. “If you’d like, the bathroom’s yours. Fresh towels are on the shelf. I figured you might appreciate a shower.”

“That sounds perfect,” she admitted, sliding off the stool. She paused, glancing down at her wrinkled clothes from yesterday. “I don’t suppose you have anything else I could wear?”

Harry’s gaze flicked across her face before he nodded, lips quirking. “I’ll find you something.”

A few minutes later, Y/n was standing under the warm spray of the shower, water cascading over her shoulders. She let out a contented sigh, savoring the simplicity of this moment. Her life felt turned upside down in the most extraordinary way—yet here she was, in his apartment, feeling oddly safe. Even the scent of his shampoo, musky and faintly spicy, was a comfort.

She stepped out, wrapping herself in a thick towel, and found a neatly folded shirt and her jeans waiting on a small wooden bench. She recognized her own jeans, but the oversized shirt was definitely Harry’s—soft cotton worn in all the right places, with sleeves that hung past her elbows. Slipping it on, she inhaled discreetly, catching his lingering scent in the fabric.

I could get used to this.

When she emerged, hair still damp, she found Harry back in the kitchen, rinsing dishes. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his gaze lingering on the way the shirt dwarfed her frame. A smile ghosted across his lips, equal parts affection and attraction.

“Looks better on you,” he offered, gesturing to the shirt.

Y/n felt a thrill race up her spine. “It’s comfortable,” she admitted, giving the hem a playful tug. “Thanks.”

He turned off the water and set aside a mug, then reached for a kitchen towel. “I forgot to ask, did you sleep okay?” he asked softly.

The unexpected concern warmed her chest. “I slept better than I have in a while.” she said, not bothering to hide the sincerity in her tone. “I always hated sleeping alone.”

Harry’s eyebrows flicked upward, and a gentle expression settled over his face. “I’m glad,” he murmured, crossing the space to her. His hand lifted as though to tuck her damp hair behind her ear, a gesture she was starting to recognize as one of his quiet intimacies. “I wasn’t sure if it’d feel too strange to wake up here.”

She looked up at him, her heart giving a little flutter. “Honestly? I’m still processing everything,” she admitted, “but I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world outside was all rain-soaked streets and city noise, but in this apartment, everything felt warm and still. Harry’s hand lingered near her cheek, fingertips grazing the collar of his shirt where it rested against her collarbone.

“Stay as long as you want,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “If you need to head to work, I can drive you. Or you can… hang out here until you’re ready to go.”

She weighed the options, a small smile touching her lips. “I do have work later,” she acknowledged, “but not for a few hours. If you don’t mind the company…”

He shook his head, his own smile soft and quick. “I don’t,” he murmured. “In fact, I’d prefer it.”

Y/n felt that familiar tug of connection—the same magnetic pull that had defined their relationship from the start. Without overthinking it, she stepped closer, lifting herself just enough to brush her lips against his. He was cool against her warm skin, and the contrast sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

Breaking the kiss, she rested her forehead against his, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to work or if it’s even going to work,” she whispered, “but I know I want to at least try.”

Harry’s arms slid around her waist, keeping her close. “So do I,” he promised quietly.

With that, they settled into the soft hush of the kitchen. The rush of the morning, the shower’s warmth still clinging to her, the taste of coffee lingering on her tongue—and his steady presence at her side. It was anything but ordinary, yet it felt wonderfully, undeniably real.

Harry slipped an arm around Y/n’s waist, drawing her close in a slow, gentle movement. The warmth of her body pressed against his cool chest made a pleasant shiver run through her. He bent his head until his nose was near the curve of her neck, and she felt him inhale—long and deep, as though savoring every note of her scent.

“You smell… so sweet,” he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. “Almost… too good.”

She swallowed, heart thudding in her chest. “Should I be worried?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching his face. “About your self-control?”

Harry let a low chuckle escape him, though there was an edge of tension in his expression. “My self-control is… typically very strong. But I have to admit,” his gaze flicked to her throat, then back up to meet her eyes, “you make it difficult.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered in equal parts excitement and caution. It was easy to forget the danger underlying his nature when he was being so tender and thoughtful. But moments like this—when she could practically feel his hunger just under the surface—were a stark reminder of what he truly was.

She brushed a hand over his cheek, feeling his cool skin under her warm fingers. “I don’t want you to lose it,” she said softly, a hint of concern threading her voice. “But… I’m not scared.”

Harry’s eyes reflected a swirl of emotions—desire, conflict, gratitude. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, and she could sense how carefully he controlled his breath.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, voice low. “It’s the one thing I refuse to do.”

Y/n’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “I believe you.”

For a moment, they stayed like that: foreheads touching, arms wrapped around each other, letting the city’s distant hum fade into a quiet hush. Despite the tension humming just beneath his cool exterior, she felt safe in his arms.

He slowly pulled back, eyes flicking between her lips and her throat. “One day,” he murmured, almost in a self-deprecating tease, “I might have to invest in a good scent blocker—or work on my restraint even more.”

Y/n’s laugh was breathy as she stroked a thumb gently across the side of his neck. “Or, I could just keep a stash of blood bags around to distract you.”

Harry blinked, then let out a real, easy laugh—a genuine sound that lit up his eyes. “I suppose that’d be one way to go.”

She grinned. “See? Problem solved.”

His laugh subsided into a lingering smile, and he shook his head in mild wonder. “You don’t even flinch talking about that. About what I am.”

Y/n pressed her lips together, feeling the honesty in her chest. “It’s part of you, and I… want all of you.”

Harry’s grip tightened slightly around her waist, and in that moment, she glimpsed a flash of that quiet hunger in his eyes. Not just for her blood, but for her presence—no longer wanting to be alone. She moved in first, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips.

When they parted, she rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the city beyond.

Harry, despite the centuries he’d lived, looked at her like she was entirely new—worth every ounce of restraint. 

She felt certain of one thing: she wasn’t afraid.

[jezebelblues]

la vie en rose | h.s

summary: lovey sunday morning in bed that ends with him buried inside her.

cw: smut18+ - penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, smidge of daddy kink, fluff, fem!reader, unedited. tried to be grammatically correct by using upper case if that makes u go wild

word count: approx 2.2k

| ladies forgive me this is like my 2nd time writing smut! building the skill brick by brick fr. mwah :*

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

masterlist

The morning light slipped through the curtains in soft streams, casting a gentle warmth over the room. The air was still, the kind of quiet that only existed in muted peace with a lover, when the world outside felt distant and time seemed to stretch endlessly. Harry lay on his back, his arm lazily draped around YN’s waist, nestled comfortably into his side like a bear seeking habitat for hibernation. His skin was warm and solid against her, a tingling heat that could have her melt in him.

She stirred first, not fully awake but aware of the weight of his arm holding her. The familiar scent of him - something faintly earthy and sweet - wrapped around her like a second blanket, and for a long moment, she didn’t want to move. His curls smelt like his lavender bergamot shampoo, locks disheveled from letting his hair dry in his sleep. The simplicity of waking up next to him was entrancing, before the world rushed in with all its noise.

He shifted beside her, his nose nuzzling into the crook of her neck, curls tickling her skin. He mumbled something incoherent, half-awake, and then murmured, “Morning, love.” His voice was low and raspy from sleep, the sound of it sending a current through her.

Her eyes fluttered open, but just barely. She didn’t need to see him to know the expression on his face - the soft, lazy smile that always greeted her in the mornings, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, even when he was half asleep. His fingers trailed absentmindedly along her side, tracing little patterns that sent shivers up her spine. The scent of home and freshly washed sheets stuck to her skin like melted sugar, and Harry swore she was hypnotizing.

“Could stay like this all day.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, then her cheek, his lips lingering just enough to make her want more. There was something about the way he held her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, and she could feel that tenderness in every touch, every kiss. His fingers grazed her arm, barely there, as if he was savoring every inch of her skin.

She smiled sleepily, her voice still thick with the dreams that lingered faintly in the back of her head. “You say that every morning.”

“Mean it every time.” Harry hums, his tone playful but full of affection. He shifted slightly, pulling her closer, as if he needed to feel her heart beat against his. There was a raw intimacy in the way he held her, not just the physical closeness, but the quiet comfort of knowing that this was where he belonged.

For a while, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other, neither of them willing to break the spell of the morning. Outside, the world moved on without them, but in here, time seemed to pause. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breath, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the soft fabric of his t-shirt. She felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm, a sound more comforting than any lullaby.

His gaze lingered on her face, his eyes tracing every detail, like he was memorizing the way she looked in the morning light. Her features were soft from sleep, cheeks flush and eyes a bit puffy. In that moment he wished he had the talent to paint, encapsulating her beauty in delicate watercolors. “Y’look so pretty when you sleep,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like an angel.”

She opened one eye, catching the adoring smile on his face, that lopsided grin he always gave her when he was in one of his affectionate moods. “You’re such a sap, Styles.” YN teased, though her voice held no real bite.

His smile widened, the dimples in his cheeks deepening as he laughed softly. “Maybe. But you love it.”

She tried to roll her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. There was something about him, the way he could make her feel completely at ease, completely loved, that always got to her. She parted her lips to speak, but in one fluid motion, Harry rolled her onto him, making her squeal in surprise. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against him as he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. His fingers traced along the curve of her waist from underneath his shirt that hung loosely around her frame, his eyes softening. They basked in the sounds of their breathing, the girl rising and falling atop him from every breath he took. He trailed his hand upward, combing his fingers through her hair. "She wasn't doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning against the balcony railing, holding the universe together." He smiled gently, his voice airy and dipped in honey.

Her giggle was breathy and melodic as her fingers reached for his cheek, pinching it ever so slightly with a delicate shake. The two had a thing for randomly quoting literature, and she couldn’t believe he beat her to it this Sunday morning. An excerpt that made her cheeks tinge a shade of pink, the love he felt toward her dripping from the borrowed words. “Shut up.” She smiled, poking his nose.

His expression didn’t change as he adjusted his large hands back under her shirt, brushing up her back, the pad of his index right along her spine. His heart fluttered with the sight upon him, every inch of her skin the tips of his fingers touched belonging to him. His movement slowed to a halt at the top of her waist, gently guiding her down to let his lips meet hers.

The kiss was slow, lingering, a quiet promise in the way his lips moved against hers. His hands continued their exploration over the familiar land as he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her. When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his breath cool on her skin.

His lips grazed her neck, the softest of kisses, but enough to send a shiver through her body. He mingled there, his exhales ticking her skin, goosebumps cascading down her body, as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear - making her sigh softly. The weight of her body straddling his felt comforting, grounding, but there was something electric in the way his hands moved, slow and teasing.

Her own fingers responded instinctively, running her fingers along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tautness of the muscles under her touch. She could sense his heartbeat quickening, matching the growing pulse she felt in her core. She let her hand roam across his torso, her fingertips tracing the lines of his chest and abdomen, delighting in the way he shivered slightly under her touch.

Harry's breath hitched as her fingers brushed lower, and he let out a soft groan, pulling her down beside him. He gripped her waist, her leg tightly looping around his as their lips met again.

Everything about the moment felt slow, deliberate - like they had all the time in the world, yet neither of them wanted to wait any longer. His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, over the sensitive skin just below her ear again. His voice, soft and hoarse, whispered against her, "Turn around.” The sheets rustled with her compliance, the arm that lied beneath her head bending as he placed a light hand around her throat.

YN’s breath hitched, a heat pooling her inner thighs and drenching her sunshine yellow panties. His lips brushed against the crook of her neck, bunching the hem of her shirt up a bit as he pulled her underwear down to her knees. His sigh was heavy, the length of his cock slapping against the small of her back as he freed himself. He mumbled something under his breath, lips skimming along the space where her shoulder and neck met, his hand finding itself between her legs, pulling her thigh upward and hooking the bend of his elbow around her knee. He shifts his hips to line himself with her cunt, YN reaching down to keep him in place. A groan tumbles from his lips as he pushes past her wet folds, filling her completely. She gasps at the feeling of his cock stretching her, Harry tugging the hand on her neck roughly to force her between his head and shoulders, tightening his grip ever so slightly while he keeps his thrusts at a tauntingly slow pace. “Such a good girl.” He murmured absentmindedly, too lost in the pleasure of her walls enveloping him completely.

Her eyes fluttered shut, soft moans emitting from her as he moves his hips quicker. Her arousal doused his cock, wetting her inner thighs - allowing for the noise of wet skin slapping against one another to reverberate off the white walls of their bedroom. She turns her head, peppering sloppy kisses along his jaw as she reaches her arm back to tangle her fingers in his curls.

All their noises combined made a symphony of pleasure, the coil in YN’s core tightening with every push of his hips. Harry’s breath came and went in short gasps, a gleam of sweat slicking his skin. The grip that held her leg up slipped inward and past where he pounded into her, fingers stretching up to the spot where the head of his cock bulged the space beneath her bellybutton from inside, a moan escaping him at the feeling of it. “Daddy-“ She whimpered, tightening around his length while his chin dipped slightly, teeth sinking into the fleshier part of her shoulder. Her head pulled back further into him, his bite light enough to not break her skin, but harsh enough to leave an indent.

He removes his touch from her belly, slapping the bottom of her thigh harshly before holding it up again. She was unable to form anything coherent, her face becoming a shade of red from how much air she lost from her moans. He hummed, low and airy, “Y’pussy is so tight for daddy.”

He selfishly pushed deeper into her, not wanting any void of space left inside of her. He could feel her walls flutter around him, her back barely arching from his chest behind her. He lightened the grip on her throat, holding onto her chin as he forced her to look at him, her lips pouted from his grasp. “Baby-“ He groaned, eyes burrowing into hers. “Fuck- y’gonna come, hm?” He tried to coo through his grunts, his girl’s eyebrows in a furrow from the knot in her belly. She nodded into his hand, eyes wide in desperation. He pulled her chin upward a bit more, his nose brushing against her top lip as he gazed at her through his eyelashes. “Look at me, bunny, don’t move.”

She whimpered, her bum and thighs a flush of pink from the force of his thrusts. YN kept her eyes open, even if they fell half-lidded - knowing Harry would stop if she didn’t listen.

Her legs threatened to close from the pleasure, but Harry forced them to open wider - intentionally teetering her breaking point with a lazy smile spread across his lips. His eyes never left hers, watching every twist and scrunch of ecstasy dance upon her features. Her moans and whimpers were messy, his curls between her fingers tight as she jerked his head back. YN forced her eyes wide, lips parted and unable to close as her release built intensely. His smile turned into a smirk, gazing down at her pretty face through a half-lidded gaze. His cock twitched as she tightened around him once more, her orgasm evident in her expression as she came greedily over his length. He rode out her high, forehead falling against hers while guttural groans made his chest vibrate. His thrusts were sloppy and quick, a small whimper falling from his lips as he shot white ribbons of come inside her.

A beat of heavy synchronized heartbeats and rapid breaths befall them, Harry gently pulling her leg down to finally rest - his length slipping out, nestled between her thighs. She lets out a light sigh as the brunette draped his arm over the curve of her waist, pulling her closer as he presses delicate kisses against her temple.

YN hummed, eyes fluttering to a close as the rhythm of her boyfriend’s chest rising and falling abutting against her - lulled her to the brink of slumber. “For nothing, not the sun, not the rain-” She paused, voice raspy from her previous moans and the sleep that loomed over her. If she didn’t love this book so much, she would’ve forgotten the excerpt entirely. “not even the brightest star in the darkest sky, could begin to compare to the wonder of you.”

Harry was rested into the crook of her neck, and she could feel the way his lips spread into a smile. His thumbs rubbed circles along her hip bone, his breathing slowing. He let out an airy giggle before he parted his rosy lips, "I shoot hot bolts into you. I make your ovaries incandescent."

They both rippled with easy laughter, feeling his belly flutter against her back with every giggle. The sun rose higher as the morning continued to pass by them, birds chirping and cars rolling down their street. They lay intertwined, bodies melting into each other and moulding into one being, each breath in perfect harmony. And in that moment they both could swear this is what heaven must feel like.

[harstyle]

… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and peppering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in the name of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he’d done it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only ever calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You are your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it on its own. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N had never really learned how to say no, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he was looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything would be fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin, and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour on her tongue.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the corridor where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that was a really fucked up thing to do.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt the same to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident enough to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry pulled her to the front of his chest, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. His mouth was near her ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. And stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the side of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He coaxed her around, never letting go.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?” She still sounded nervous.

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

The delight that sparked in her was all he’d been looking for. “I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, a smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

[harrywavycurly]

I’m a sucker for a fake marriage AU but what if Harry married us for real but because he had to? Or because he was drunk? Then he falls for us for real?🥹😍

Hiiii babes!! I too love a fake marriage AU they just like hit a special spot in my soul! So I changed this slightly, I hope you don’t mind? 😬💖

A/N: This is kinda short but if you want a part 2 let me know and it’ll go into more detail about everything✨

-find all things Lonely here✨

Summary: Harry is just tired of being lonely and well..he knows you are too so what could it hurt to just be together? Aka Harry asks his bestfriend to marry him✨

“Harry please stand up.”

“You didn’t even let me finish what-”

“I don’t need to let you finish to know what getting down on one knee means Harry.” Your words are rushed as you feel your breathing begin to become more rapid due to the overwhelming sense of panic that’s settling in your chest. “Please stand up.” You hear him let out a sigh as he reluctantly stands up but stays standing right in front of where you’re sitting on the edge of the pink and orange striped cushion of your outdoor loveseat, you watch him as he reaches over so he can place the ring box on the table next to you.

“Will you just let me explain myself please?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as he watches how you place your hands in your lap and being messing with the ring on your pinky, a habit he knows you do when you’re nervous or stressed. He immediately takes a small step closer to you when he realizes he’s the cause behind you feeling so uneasy, he kneels down so he’s eye level with you and places a hand over both of yours.

“I’m sorry for just dropping to one knee like that.” He gives your hands a little squeeze as he ducks his head down a bit until you finally meet his gaze. “That was a bit dramatic even for me but I just need to get this out okay? And then when I’m done you can do that thing you love to do and ask me a million questions and I’ll answer all of them.” He looks at you and when you just give him a small nod he smiles and stands up after giving your hands one more reassuring squeeze.

Harry clears his throat and readies himself to give you the detailed explanation as to why he showed up to your house for lunch dressed as if he was headed for an event in his powder pink suit with blue button up underneath, roses in his hand and then before you could even serve him a glass of wine he was down on one knee with a box in his hand. You take a few deep calming breaths reminding yourself that the man in front of you is Harry, your bestfriend and he doesn’t do things for no reason so you’ll sit and listen to him because he’d do the same for you if it was you who’d been down on one knee in front of him not even five minutes ago. He runs a hand through his hair as he finally lets his eyes find yours just as a playful smirk takes over his face as his eyes flicker to the roses on the table next to the loveseat you’re sitting on before returning to you.

“We’ve been friends for what? Eleven years now?” You know by the playfully tone of his voice that he doesn’t actually want you to answer him. “I remember we met at that house party and I was so flattered that you were going to let me be the first frat boy to take you home.” You roll your eyes as the memory of meeting Harry replays in your mind.

It was at a college house party and he was in the kitchen with a red solo cup in his hand, a backwards SnapBack covering up his beautiful head of curls, a red flannel half buttoned and a pair of black skinny jeans. You thought he looked actually like the fraternity boys your fiends had warned you about but there was something different about him, the way his smile seemed so genuine when he saw you walk into the small space and offered you a drink and it was when you saw the dimples and heard his accent that you knew you were in trouble. The two of you stuck together the rest of the party and when it was starting to get too wild for your taste you told him he could take you home and Harry who’s always been a gentleman, said his place was closer.

“Then you had to go and ruin the moment by throwing up all over my boots.”

“I ruined the moment? It wasn’t the fact you weren’t even a frat boy but just a member of some boyband who liked to crash college parties?” This makes Harry let out a huff as he shakes his head at your teasing.

“Some boyband? That’s a bit rude love.” He playfully glares at you as you lean back and get more comfortable in your seat. “But that’s also the night we became bestfriends because as I helped you get home and held your hair while you got sick we just talked all night and if I remember correctly which we both know my memory is one of my strong suits then that’s also the first time you stole one of my shirts.” The playful smile that’s on his lips makes you look down at your hands in your lap and lift a shoulder in a casual shrug.

“You gave it to me.” You argue as you look up making Harry just nod as the smile on his face grows.

“I did didn’t I?” He asks and the look on his face tells you he was almost testing you to see if you remember the night the same way he does. “You remember the kiss right? In the backyard by-”

“The pool. Yes Harry I remember.” You don’t know why the memory of Harry kissing you drunkenly by a pool at a house party makes your cheeks get warm in embarrassment but it does. “What’s this have to do with you getting down on one knee?” You want him to get on with the explanation because going down memory lane with him isn’t something you’re sure you have the energy for right now.

“Right. Sorry.” He shake his head as if to try to refocus his thoughts on what he’s actually trying to get across to you. “I feel like I have everything I could ever want in life. I have more money than I know what to do with and I have a career that I love and I’m finally at a place where I can just sit back and enjoy all the hard work I’ve done over the last fifteen years of my life and relax a little but taking this time off has made me realize something.” Your eyes meet his as he lets out a sigh as he looks into your eyes and you swear you see a hint of sadness tucked away in the dark specks of his bright green eyes. “I don’t have anyone to share my life with. I know I have my family and friends but I’m still so fucking lonely.” His voice is lower than before and your heart aches for him, you know Harry isn’t one that’s ever dealt with being alone very well and all this free time has been a little harder on him than he intended it to be.

“I just want to be with someone that makes saying goodbye hard and that makes me want to rush home just because I know they’re there waiting for me.” The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights the small smile that wants to form. “I want to be someone’s husband and I think that someone should be you.” You feel your mouth drop open as your eyes widen at his statement.

Harry lets you have a few moments to let his words sink in as he takes a few steps towards the table the roses are on so he can grab the box he had in hands when he was down on one knee. He gently opens the top and reaches in and takes the simple gold band out and holds it between his index finger and thumb before placing the empty box back on the table. When he looks over at you he just gives you a reassuring grin when he sees you’re already looking up at him.

“I know you’re lonely too sweetheart.” You let out a shaky breath as he kneels down in front of you and gently grabs your left hand. “But you don’t have to be anymore.” Your eyes glance down at your hand as Harry starts to slowly slide the band on your ring finger. “We already have a great foundation because no one knows you better than me right?” He gives you a playful wink as he slides the band past your knuckle.

“Like I know how you take your coffee in the morning and how you need to be held when you’re upset. I know how to make your perfect bubble bath and I can tell if you’re in a bad mood just by the way you text me. I know when you need red wine and when you need white or when you just need a bottle of tequila and a lime. I know all your fears and I know all the amazing dreams you have and I’ll happily help you make them come true if you’ll let me.” You sniffle as you feel your eyes start to have that familiar sting letting you know you’re a few moments away from full on crying.

“Harry-”

“I love you and I know you’re going to tell me it’s not the same as being in love with you but I think that will come with time? Don’t you? I know you love me too and I don’t see how this couldn’t work? It’s not even like the physical stuff would be weird because we’ve hooked-”

“You shouldn’t marry someone just because you’re lonely Harry.” You have to stop him from saying anything else as you feel a few tears escape from your eyes as they roll down your cheeks and before you can wipe them away Harry has his hands cupping the sides of your face and his thumbs are gently swiping them away.

“I’m lonely yes but that’s not the only reason why I want to marry you. I think you might be my person and I just spent too long trying to just keep you in my life anyway that I could and now I just can’t imagine myself being anyone else’s husband but yours.” He knows he sounds crazy but he also knows he’s talking to you, the one person who understands him the most.

“Why now?” You ask as you reach up and place one of your hands over his that’s still holding the side of your face.

“We aren’t getting any younger love so figured it was now or never.” His answer makes you chuckle as you lean into his touch. “I know this is a lot and if you need some time that’s fine.” You just nod as he leans forward and places a kiss to your forehead, you drop your hand from the top of his so he can release the sides of your face. “Just don’t take too much time yeah? You know how I get.” He half heartedly jokes as he stands up, you watch him look down at your hand and a small smile creeps onto his face as he sees the gold band sitting nicely on your ring finger.

“Call me when you’re ready sweetheart.” Is all he says as he leans down and kisses the top of your head before he turns and heads towards the gate of your backyard that will take to your driveway where his car is parked. You just sit there and stare at the ring on your finger as you hear the sound of his car starting up, you feel your eyes fill with a new wave of tears as the sound of his car backing out of your driveway hits your ears.

“Oh god.” You mumble to yourself as you place your head in your hands as the events of the afternoon really hit you, your bestfriend really asked you to marry him. You close your eyes as you come to the understanding that while he admitted he does love you he’s not in love with you, making you face something that you’ve been trying to avoid for years, the fact you actually are in love with him. So now you’re left with two choices, marry him and hope he does one day fall in love with you or tell him no and hope it doesn’t ruin the friendship the two of you have.

[sweetcherryharry]

i love you, i'm sorry

based on the song 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie abrams.

pairing: harry styles x actress!reader

i promise the next one shot i post won't be angsty!! haha i just love it.

(masterlist)

Two Augusts ago, the world was theirs. Y/N, a rising actress with a radiant smile and a captivating screen presence, had just landed her breakout role in a critically acclaimed film. Harry, the soloist singer from one of the most known boy bands worldwide, was on the cusp of global stardom. Their paths crossed at a star-studded after-party, a whirlwind of flashing cameras and intoxicating energy.

Their connection was instant, a magnetic pull that drew them together like moths to a flame. Y/N was captivated by Harry's wit, his passion for music, and the vulnerability he revealed beneath his confident exterior. Harry, in turn, was mesmerized by Y/N's intelligence, her infectious laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.

Their romance blossomed in the spotlight, a whirlwind of red carpet appearances, stolen kisses backstage, and late-night jam sessions in dimly lit recording studios.

Y/N's career soared as she took on challenging roles, her performances garnering critical acclaim and adoration from fans. Harry's solo career skyrocketed to fame, their music topping charts and filling stadiums with screaming fans.

But as their individual stars rose, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The demands of their careers pulled them in opposite directions, leaving little time for the intimacy they once cherished.

The constant scrutiny of the media added another layer of pressure, their every move dissected and analyzed under the harsh glare of the public eye.

As Harry's band embarked on a grueling world tour, the distance between them grew, a chasm widening with each missed call and unanswered text.

Y/N poured her heart into her latest film, a drama that demanded her full attention. Long hours on set and emotional scenes left her drained and craving the warmth of Harry's voice, the comfort of his touch. But his calls became sporadic, his texts filled with vague apologies and promises of making it up to her.

One sweltering August evening, after a particularly draining day on set, Y/N's phone finally buzzed with an incoming call from Harry. A wave of relief washed over her as she eagerly answered, her voice trembling with a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Harry! It's been days," she exclaimed, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. "I've barely heard from you."

"I know, love," he replied, his voice muffled as if he were speaking from a crowded space. "I'm so sorry. It's been crazy out here."

"Crazy? Or just too busy for me?" Y/N retorted, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

A heavy silence settled over the line. "Don't start this again, Y/N," Harry sighed. "You know how hectic touring can be."

"But you promised to call more often," she said, her voice rising with each word, like the crest of a wave before it crashes. "You promised to make time for us, even when you're on the road."

Her eyes, once filled with trust and understanding, now held a glimmer of doubt. The weight of his broken promises bore down on her shoulders, reminding her of the distance that had grown between them.

They had talked about this, hadn't they? It had not been the first time the topic had arisen.

Three times now, they had sat down together for a call, their hearts filled with hope, and he had reassured her with promises of improvement.

But like sand slipping through one's fingers, his pledges faded into emptiness after a few short weeks. The sting of betrayal pierced her heart, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

"I'm trying, okay?" Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But it's not always easy. You have your work, I have mine. We can't expect to be glued to each other's side all the time."

His words stung, a harsh reminder of the growing distance between them. "Maybe you're right," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe we're not meant to do this anymore."

A tense silence followed, broken only by the sound of Harry's ragged breathing. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" he finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears welling up. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "All I know is that this isn't working. It's not the way it used to be."

More silence. Then, a resigned sigh. "Maybe you're right," Harry echoed. "Maybe it's time we both moved on."

The call ended abruptly, the silence echoing in Y/N's ears. She collapsed onto her bed, tears streaming down her face. The love she'd once cherished felt like a distant memory, a fading dream.

Ever since that day, they haven’t spoken.

Two years drifted by, a silent chasm stretching between them, filled with unanswered calls, unsent texts, and a lingering ache of what could have been.

Y/N immersed herself in her career, her ambition a shield against the pain of their separation. Each successful role, each award, was a testament to her resilience, a badge of honor earned through countless hours of dedication and the shedding of silent tears.

Harry, on the other hand, had soared to fame. Sold-out stadiums, chart-topping hits, and a whirlwind of adoring fans marked his journey. Yet, amidst the deafening roar of applause, a quiet yearning gnawed at him, a longing for the warmth and laughter that had once filled his life.

One night, as Y/N mindlessly scrolled through social media, her thumb absently swiping past countless posts, a video thumbnail caught her eye. It was from a popular Pop news account, and the post was recent, just published a few seconds ago.

It was a grainy, fan-recorded clip of Harry's final show in Europe. The caption read, “Harry Styles singing a new, unreleased single about heartbreak on one of his shows on August 18th.”

A date seared into her memory, the two-year anniversary of their heartbreaking split.

Curiosity, mingled with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia, compelled her to click on the video. The familiar strains of Harry's voice filled her ears, but the song was new, raw and vulnerable, a far cry from his usual upbeat anthems. As the camera zoomed in on his face, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, a vulnerability she hadn't seen in years.

"This song," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "is special to me. It's for someone who I hurt deeply. Someone who I never stopped loving, even when I was too proud to admit it."

Y/N's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was as if he were speaking directly to her, across continents and time zones, his words piercing through the carefully constructed walls she'd built around her heart.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she listened to his voice with the guitar melodies, the lyrics pouring out of Harry like a confession, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

I love you, I'm sorry.

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of their love lost. The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed.

A wave of emotions washed over Y/N – sorrow, longing, and a flicker of hope she hadn't dared to feel in years. It was as if the distance that had separated them had vanished, replaced by an invisible thread connecting their hearts.

The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed. Lost in her thoughts, she absently refreshed her Twitter feed, her eyes widening in shock as she saw her own name trending alongside Harry's.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrolled through countless tweets, each one dissecting the lyrics of his new song and speculating about its inspiration. The consensus was clear: it was about her.

"Harry's new song is a love letter to Y/N," one tweet proclaimed.

"He's clearly still in love with her," another user declared.

"This is the apology we've all been waiting for!" a fan account chimed in.

The sheer volume of tweets, the overwhelming outpouring of support and speculation, left Y/N reeling. It was as if the world had become a chorus, echoing the unspoken truth that had lingered between them for two long years.

As the tweet became more popular, her phone buzzed with incoming messages from friends and colleagues, all asking the same question: "Is it about you?"

Y/N didn't know how to answer. A part of her wanted to deny it, to protect herself from the potential heartbreak that lay ahead. But another part of her, the part that had never stopped loving Harry, yearned for it to be true.

As she re-listened to the lyrics of his song, the raw emotion in his voice echoing in her ears, she couldn't deny the truth any longer. It was about her. It was always about her.

The emotions swirling within her were too powerful to ignore. With trembling fingers, Y/N typed a simple message:

“Hey.”

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the send button. But before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss.

To her surprise, the three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for his response.

“Hey.”

His reply was a single word, but it held a universe of unspoken emotions.

“I listened to your new song,” she typed back, her fingers flying across the screen.

“It's for you.”

The words appeared on her screen, stark and unadorned, yet carrying the weight of two years of regret and longing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to this unexpected confession. A million questions swirled in her mind, but the only words she could manage were:

"Can we talk?"

The reply came almost instantly:

"Please."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Y/N's veins. She didn't know where this conversation would lead, but she knew she had to take this chance.

After two years of silence, the door to their past had been cracked open, and she had to find out if there was any hope of rekindling the flame that had once burned so brightly between them.

[reputationolivia]

try again?

would anyone be interested in this, i thought of this plot awhile back and started working on it recently but i feel like its just gotten long and idk i feel like it might be a bit boring? so idk if anyone would be up for reading this! but i put a little snippet of it here so if anyone sees this please share your thoughts! :)

18+ minors dni

warnings: none for this one yet.

summary: you and harry dated for almost 5 years but you ended things, only problem? you got a cat together three years ago that you co-parent.

wc: 1.8k

I glanced around in search for opal as I tied the laces on my shoes. She’s always been good at hiding when she sees her crate out and ready for her, but i was ready for her today with her favorite treat in hand. "Opal, where are you baby?” I called for her. pacing through the living room I heard a faint meow coming from the kitchen, and i sighed, already knowing where she would be - the narrow gap between the counter and the fridge. I bend down and waved her treat in front of her little face to get her interested in it. “Come on out sweetie,” i coaxed, slowly her fluffy face popped out of the gap and she began licking the treat. I took this as my opportunity and gently tugged her out and scooped her up, letting her have the entire treat now as I walked over to her crate.

As I helped opal get settles into her crate I tried not to think too much about the trip ahead and what’s to come. The keys jingled in my hands as i snatched them from there small side table near the front door creating a slight sound of normalcy between all of the craziness my life has been lately. I slung my headphones around my neck, and with opal securely inside her carrier i finally stepped out into the bright, sunlit street. I caught my reflection in a car window and felt a bit ridiculous - sunglasses on, headphones dangling, and cat in tow - i shrugged it off and began my journey to the subway station.

The subway ride was pretty uneventful, at least it was at first. Opal was sitting quietly in her crate beside me as she watched the window in front of us, watching the city blur through the window. I put my headphones on and mindlessly browsed through Apple Music, i eventually decided on just playing “my station” after not being able to settle on any of my existing playlists. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular really, i mean besides the fact that I was currently on my way to meet my ex boyfriend of 4 1/2 years. As if my phone knew what was on my mind a familiar melody began playing, i felt my body tense as i recognized it immediately, my chest tightened and the air suddenly became too thick to breathe. I reached for my phone to skip to the next song. It was his song, of course it’d be my luck that’s the song that starts playing as I’m on my way to see him again. Of course, skipping it didn’t help, the damage was done.

Moving on has been hard, actually it’s been more than hard, it’s been hell, absolutely brutal. We were together for so long, four and a half years. That’s a long time to share a life with someone, it wasn’t just the memories that lingered though - it was our plans, the dreams we shared that we’d stay up all night talking about, when the world felt ours. Marriage, kids, a beautiful house with a garden, i thought it was all within reach, that it was just a matter of time. But now? Just the sound of his voice in a song sends me spiraling. It’s only been a couple months since we broke up, and seeing him as often as I do doesn’t exactly help with the whole “moving on” thing.

But now, all we have left is opal.

Opal. Our little baby. She wasn’t quite a child, but the closest thing we had. We adopted her when she was just a baby, three months old. After we broke up neither of us could bear to part with her. we had gotten her together so in the end we decided on co-parenting opal, which isn’t ideal but at the very least she had two people who loved her, and despite our failed relationship i knew she was safe with him. Even if seeing him every time i dropped her off still hurt.

The familiar ding of the subway pulled me out of my thoughts and i realized we were at our stop. I pulled my headphones back down to the back of my neck as i stood up, then grabbed opals crate and hopped off the subway. I felt like the subway ride ended far too quickly, and before i realized it i was walking up the now somewhat familiar street towards his apartment. as i got closer and closer each step i took felt heavier than the last. It felt like i was dragging the weight of everything we left unsaid, unresolved. I tightened my grip on opals crate, her quiet purring served as a reminder that despite everything, some things hadn’t changed.

But most things had.

I wasn’t the same person who used to walk the streets of New York with him by my side, laughing at the stupidest things, talking absentmindedly about everything, and nothing at all. Yet now it feels like that was a lifetime ago when in reality it was just a few short months ago. And now here i was, walking the streets of the city we once shared, alone. Having to act normal in front of the man i loved, love but trying not to as I’m about to hand over our cat like it was just some business transaction, something normal.

Ahead i spotted him standing in front of his building. He was leaning against the wall near the doors to the lobby, looking down at his phone, a casual stance that didn’t betray any of the turmoil i was feeling. Typical harry, i thought. Always composed, always calm. I wished i could say the same for myself. I reached up with my free hand to adjust my sunglasses, hoping they hid more than just the sun from my eyes. As i approached his eyes were still glues to his phone, did he even notice i was walking up to him? Now a few feet away from him, i clear my throat in hopes of catching his attention, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

He finally looks up, his green eyes meeting mine, and though he couldn’t see mine due to my sunglasses i swore i could see something flash in his - recognition? Annoyance? Regret? I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe I’m just imagining things. “Hey,” he said, finally pushing off the wall and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” i replied, keeping my voice as steady as i could even though every bit of me felt like breaking and like my voice was shaking with the tension of being this close to him. We walk into the lobby and i crouch down to let opal out. Immediately, she dashed out of her crate, and toward him, brushing against him with a happy meow. I couldn’t help the slight pang of jealousy i felt at how easily she seemed to adjust to this life of back and forth we’d created for her. I wish it was that easy for me.

“It’s been a while, nice shoes by the way.” Harry said as he crouched down, scratching opal behind her ears. He didn’t look at me when. He said it, instead keeping his eyes on opal. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a subtle dig when he said it’s been a while. “Yeah works been a bit hectic, and thanks.” I responded as i stood there awkwardly and hugged my arms to myself. Suddenly the distance between us felt a lot larger than just a few feet.

He stood up slowly, his gaze finally meeting mine, and i just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “How’ve you been?” He asked, for a moment i almost believed he actually wanted to know.

Good. You?”

“Same.” he said, glancing down at opal again.

The conversation stalled, i could feel the silence expanding between us, this is all we had now — awkward exchanges, empty words just to fill the space where something real used to be. I wanted so badly just to say something, anything that could break through the surface. I didn’t even know where to start, everything felt too different, too fragile and close to breaking. Opal meowed again, winding between our legs, completely oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between us.

I sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s been eating normally. Likes to hide under the bed more often lately but that’s probably because of all the travel recently.” Harrys eyes softened a little. “Yeah, she’s always liked her hiding spots huh.” He paused, then added, “I’ve missed her.” His words hung there, suspended in the air between us for a while and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about opal. I nodded at his words, something about the way he said it lingered longer than it should have, i tried to push it aside, maybe I’m just reading too much into his words. Looking down at opal again i sighed, “i’ll uh, see you later.” I mumbled, now just wanting to get out and as far away from this awkward situation as possible. I turned to walk away before he could say anything, i felt his eyes on me as i made my way towards the lobby door. His gaze was sticking with me more than i wanted it to.

As i exited the building, i felt my footsteps heavy on the ground again. I took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air and trying to clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the what-ifs. How i wish i could be done with all this. I couldn’t afford to keep dwelling on our past, especially not with everything going on. At least through all this change i still had my job, and im fortunate enough to really love my job. My job has always been my escape, allowing be to take a break from my real life and everything i had going on. I could create stories outside my own, i could be in control, or at the very least, i could pretend to be. But in moments like this, i was just me - and I couldn’t pretend to be anyone else. I had no script or direction, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

The months after the breakup have been such a blur, it’s like I’ve been moving on autopilot. Filming, press events, and trying to keep it together in front of the cameras. I was good at that. I’ve played so many different roles, performed rehearsed lines perfectly, but none of that could’ve prepared me for the messy reality of seeing him. Missing him.

[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 1

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n can't believe her luck when the famous Harry Styles invites her and her friend backstage after his concert is over.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 8646

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Almost 20,000 screaming fans, flashing and pulsing lights, percussion, string, vocals, bass, and ego with sex appeal dancing on the stage amongst it all. The entire floor of the venue, stage, walls, and all were vibrating and trembling along with the speakers that thundered with live music, and in the middle of it all the crowd danced and stomped along with the man of the hour. Harry Styles.

For Harry, tonight was a great night. When he performed it was usually pretty fucking great. But tonight, especially, everything was perfect. It was just one of those days that’s a good day for no real reason. The stars aligned, the moon’s gravitational pull balanced everything out, Mars was not in retrograde, and so on and so forth. Who knew what had made it such a lovely day? It just was and Harry was not one to question things like nature and science and destiny. He allowed it to bring him wherever it needed to take him. He was just a passenger on the ride of life.

And everyone in the building felt the same vibes. He just knew it. It had been a perfectly phenomenal day for everyone that he laid eyes on. How could it not? Every time he spotted someone in the crowd and smiled they screamed and jumped excitedly because they were also having a fucking fantastic day. So, okay, sure it might have had something to do with the fact that they were at a Harry Styles concert, and making eye contact with the one and only himself was bound to boost moods.

It was a thrill to wave or smile or call someone out and see their reaction. He loved the attention. Loved watching people swoon and cry out for him. He loved being loved and adored. And tonight, he was very much being adored.

When the song came to an end and the lights went down Harry picked up his Gibson guitar and stepped back up to the mic, signaling the song change. The light shined down over him as he stood gorgeously confident in his black custom Gucci suit sans shirt. His pecs and tattoos bared to the fans, a well-built body proudly on display. He had no reason to not show off. He knew he looked amazing. Not to mention it was also practical because his outfit and the hot lights were boiling.

He loved using old songs from his One Direction days and Stockholm Syndrome always got the crowd to go absolutely nuts. He stood bold and self-assured in front of the microphone as he strummed the guitar and started the song off. Looking at the fans in the center pit they went wild as his eyes roved the crowd, dimples carving into his cheeks at the reaction he got. He’d never get over it.

He began to sing and the sudden greatness of the situation was overwhelming. He knew the universe was giving him something very special at that instant as he strummed and leaned into the mic, belting the opening lines. He wanted to keep his awareness about him and not miss a moment. He was in his element.

And the reason he felt the atmosphere change, he was sure of it the second he laid eyes on her, was standing just right of center stage in the pit. An angel with long hair surrounded by a halo of glitter and the loveliest smile he’d seen in a long time. She wore a bodysuit with a flower pattern that hugged her curves with sparkles all over her skin and her shoulders, gleaming in her hair. Glossy pink and red sunglasses shaped like hearts on her face.

He couldn’t help but look at her as he sang and when he stepped away from the mic to let the fans scream the words he narrowed his eyes at the angel in front of the stage and gave her a quick wave, releasing one hand from his guitar to do so. Watching her pretty pink lips drop open wide when she understood he was waving at her she bounced a little and waved back. Harry’s eyes dragged down her frame again and he realized her tits were bouncing with her. He couldn’t help but notice it. They were supple and she was gorgeous. It was hard not to take her all in as she was.

She hadn’t realized it, until that instant, that he’d been looking at her. She figured that was impossible. There were so many other people next to her but the electricity that buzzed through her veins in that moment had her feeling like the only one in the audience. He continued looking at her through the song, his eyes finding hers as he sang and strummed. His smile deepened each time their gazes met and she felt like she was in a dream. Harry Styles was looking at her and grinning coyly each time his eyes landed on hers.

Y/n was an outspoken person. Someone who didn’t usually hold back with her thoughts and opinions. And even though having Harry looking at her and grinning was making the blood rush to her cheeks and her limbs tremble she knew she needed to call on her boldness to keep his attention. She had an idea before she’d even gotten to the concert that felt like something that would just stay an idea, would remain a little daydream fantasy. But now? She figured why not? She’d seen Harry prancing around at past concerts wearing sunglasses and hats the fans would toss up to him.

But she didn’t want to throw anything up on the stage at him for fear of hurting him or him not seeing it. She wanted to hand him the sunglasses. Maybe they’d even brush fingers. But with the way the stage was set up, she knew that was impossible. Security flanked the fronts and sides and she’d never be able to reach. Instead, she did the next best thing.

The next time Harry spotted her, which was only moments after she decided to enact her plan, she pulled her sunglasses off and pointed at him as she held them up. She was against the barricade near security and Harry’s eyes squinted as he looked at her hand and placed the mic onto the stand before kneeling down next to the man standing in front of the stage. He kept his eyes on the sparkly angel as he pointed at her and spoke to the man who nodded.

The transaction happened in a flash. The man smiled at her as she handed him the heart-shaped sunglasses and then suddenly Harry had them in hand and placed them on his face as he got right back to singing.

The crowd was raucous. Harry wearing cutesy, shiny heart sunglasses got everyone’s attention but Y/n was in awe that he was wearing her cheap dollar store find on his handsome face.

And when the song was over he pulled the sunglasses off and mouthed, “Can I keep these?”

Y/n nodded exaggeratedly and smiled as she bounced a little. It was the best night of her life; she was sure of it. The entire day had been amazing. From the moment she woke up to right then as she had Harry’s grin aimed at her it had been perfection. Even her outfit and hair were perfect. She knew it. It was just one of those days and she felt like it was all meant to be.

She danced and swayed to the songs, sang along with the crowd, and Harry kept giving her glances and cheeky smirks. He was definitely flirting with her.

“I can’t believe he’s keeping your sunglasses! What if he wears them after tonight and he’s photographed with them?” Y/n’s co-worker, Ady, was with her. She and Ady were loose friends. They got along well enough and both liked Harry Styles. So when Y/n scored two tickets and her best friend declined to go to the concert with her she asked Ady. She figured Ady would be willing given the colorful TPWK screensaver she had on her work computer.  

Harry began to interact with the signs in the crowd. Reading them aloud as he casually paced and laughed and made the fans laugh with him.

But as he walked toward the part of the stage where Y/n and Ady were standing Harry pointed directly at Y/n, “What’s your name?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep calm and Ady squealed next to her, “Her name is Y/n!”

Y/n turned to look at Ady and they laughed together but Harry continued, “Her name is what again?” He cupped his ear and leaned in to hear better.

This time Y/n was quick to react, “Y/n!!” She shouted as loudly and clearly as possible.

Harry stood up straight and laughed, “Y/n. Lovely. And your friend’s name?”

Ady shouted her name and Harry nodded, “Is it just the two of you?”

Y/n and Ady nodded with wide grins and Harry sauntered around in the spot as he motioned with his arms, “Y/n, here, gave me a pair of sunglasses and is allowing me to keep them,” he spoke to the fans and then looked back toward Y/n. “And I just wanted to say, thank you, Y/n. That was so thoughtful of you to give them to me.”

She placed her hand over her heart as she shouted, “You’re welcome!” And Harry placed his hand over his heart and winked.

An absolute dream. The whole night had been. The attention she was getting from Harry was something she’d never forget. She was positive that he found her attractive based on the way he kept looking toward her and grinning. It was one of those things that happen in life that make you spark and give you a giddiness that you’ll wake in the middle of the night thinking of or suddenly become overwhelmed with while you’re loading the dishwasher. Something that you take with you and sew into your bones and inwardly smile and gush over. Something that can’t ever be taken away. A small moment in time that’s yours to take with you forever.

Harry did his usual end-of-concert routine, including the whale before jogging off stage. The lights brightened slowly and the sounds of chatter and concertgoers laughing and singing filled the venue.

Y/n wasn’t ready to leave the magic of the concert but all good things must come to an end. As she and Ady were about to file out behind the other pit fans the security guard who handed her sunglasses off to Harry approached her, “You’re both invited backstage. Harry’s invitation.”

There was no way she’d ever get over that night.

The area was set up in two sections. A handful of fans and other people were all in one spot, a large room with foldout chairs and tables along the wall, and then there was another room opposite the large one, where Y/n and Ady were asked to stay. The room was small with a couch and coffee table, a few armchairs, a TV on the wall, and a buffet with pitchers of water and juices lined up with glasses and napkins at the end.

Y/n sat in one of the armchairs and Ady poured herself a glass of green juice, “Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’ll get something in a minute. Just need a second to process everything. That was so amazing, wasn’t it?”

The pair talked about the concert as a man walked into the room and filled a glass with water for himself. He greeted Ady and then Y/n, “Hi. I’m Tommy.”

He sat down and made small talk for a bit, “So, this is the special guest room. Did you get a personal invite from Harry?” His grin was cheeky. Y/n didn’t know what any of that meant.

“Yeah, he invited us backstage after the concert was over. I gave him my sunglasses.”

Tommy nodded and raised his brows, “Ahh… I see. Well, he’ll be done out there soon.”

Soon was thirty minutes later. Tommy turned the TV on and handed the remote to Ady before he left the room. They got to meet Sarah and Pauli before they noticed some of the fans leaving and the other room slowly growing empty.

And when Harry finally walked into the room it was as if time stood still. That cliché was happening in real time. He wore a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt with tennis shoes, and a big smile as he looked at Y/n before greeting Ady with a handshake and a hug.

Y/n stood abruptly as Harry greeted her in the same way.

He sat on the couch and urged Y/n to sit next to him as Ady took the armchair closest and they all talked briefly about the concert. He asked more questions about how they knew one another and if they were from the area, what they did for a living…

He was perfectly polite and attentive. The man was gorgeous up close and Y/n tried not to let her imagination get away from her as he spoke and she watched his features and looked down over his tattooed arm and muscular thighs under his jeans.

Harry laughed at something Ady said and then ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Y/n, “I’m really glad you came. You have good taste in sunglasses. And music,” he chuckled at his joke and Y/n laughed with him.

“But um… would you be willing to stay back with me a bit? If you want?” He looked directly at Y/n as he asked but she didn't assume the question was only aimed at herself and of course, she was willing to stay back with him so she nodded and looked at Ady to make sure she was good with it too.

Just as Ady was about to say something Harry interrupted, “I’m really sorry. I can only have one person stay back per the rules, and since you,” he looked over at Y/n, “were so kind to allow me to keep your sunglasses, thought it would only be fair.”

The sudden realization changed the atmosphere in the room. He was asking Y/n to stay back. Only her. Not Ady.

“Oh, sure. Yeah of course. That’s fine,” Ady smiled and looked at her friend. “Y/n you stay. I’ll go back to the hotel and see you later then?”

It was awkward for sure. Y/n felt a little guilty for being so excited at the idea of being able to hang out with Harry one-on-one but at the same time, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even if Ady had said she would rather Y/n go with her she would have stayed with Harry. She was not going to miss whatever it was he had planned.

She was led into another room. One with a door that Harry closed behind himself. He watched as she looked around. It was what looked like a dressing room.

“Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?” Harry asked as he walked up behind Y/n and honed in on what she was looking at. The rack of outfits. He always had five to choose from for each show. Usually, there was one that was suggested but Harry liked making the final decision. Which also meant each outfit would be tailored the same day as a show regardless if he wore them or not. Now, the tailoring wasn’t much. It wasn’t as if Harry’s weight and size fluctuated all that much from show to show. But lately, he was bulking up a bit. His trainer had him working out for hours each day. Harry’s body was in the best shape it’d ever been in. So some seams were let out and there were a few little tucks and folds and bits that needed to be sewn last minute typically.

“What do you have to drink?”

Harry turned and opened up the mini fridge as he squatted down, “Let’s see. Beer, wine, tequila, whisky. I can get you anything you want, though.”

Of course he could.

“Tequila on the rocks? Is that okay?” She was feeling a bit uncertain. She didn’t know what to expect or what was allowed. She wasn’t sure what was going on in general. Her nerves were starting to erupt a bit at the idea that he might have her in his dressing room alone for something more than just a chat.

“Sure. I’ll have one with you.”

They sat next to one another on the couch and made more small talk. She was surprised that he stayed a couple of feet from her the whole time as he sipped his glass and asked her about her job, her family, a dog she mentioned.

When she’d finished her tequila she tapped at the glass with her fingernails and looked at Harry curiously, “So, um… should I be going now? What’s the plan?”

Harry laughed and gulped down the last of his tequila before clearing his throat nervously, “If you want to go you can but um…” he licked his lips and sat the glass down on the table next to his side and planted his green gaze on her pretty eyes, “I’m going to head to my suite in a bit. It’s really nice and big. Would you want to go back there with me?”

Y/n grinned and squinted her eyes at him, “What for? Are you planning on making a move on me or something?”

Harry sputtered out a laugh and his adorable dimples dug into his face. He hadn’t expected her to say it right then but he could tell she was a bold person. Knew from the start, when she got his attention with her sunglasses that she wasn’t shy and wouldn’t need lots of guidance. Which he preferred. Timid women were nice and all but Harry didn’t like to be the one to make the first move in most cases. He felt that wasn’t fair. He was famous and handsome and it was unlikely a girl would turn him down so he liked it when he was pursued a little. He liked it when the other person made the suggestions and led the way a bit. Felt more authentic that way.

“Do you want me to make a move?”

Y/n sighed and grinned back at him, “You’re not answering my question,” she turned to face him, the glitter on her arms rubbing off onto the couch. “Is that what this is? Because so far you’ve just made a bunch of small talk and you’ve listened to me ramble on about my boring job.”

Harry nodded. Fair enough.

“Okay. Yes. I wanted to make a move. But I feel like doing that in my suite gives us more privacy rather than here. It’s up to you, though.”

“There it is. So this was just a way for you to get me to come back to your room with you.” She smiled as she teased.

Harry laughed a breath out of his nose and nodded, “Yes, Y/n. I hoped you’d come back to my room with me. Will you?”

“Can I kiss you first and then make that decision? I need to know what I’m getting myself into before you get me all alone in your suite.”

Harry gulped and felt his chest get warm. Yes, she was perfectly bold. Exactly what he hoped.

He nodded, “Okay.” He scooted himself toward her body and she moved her hands up to his shoulders and laughed quietly at the absurdity.

Harry smiled and just before he could laugh with her he felt her soft, glossy lips on his and he melted. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and her body was suddenly pressed into his.

When she licked over his lips Harry groaned as he opened his mouth to let his tongue slide out against hers. It all happened so fast and his head was spinning.

She determined she liked, no loved, the way he kissed. A little messy and wet. Plenty of tongue and small moans fell from his lungs. His lips were puffy and soft and she’d never imagined in her life that she’d get to feel his lips on hers but here they were licking and sucking and making out on a couch in his dressing room after his concert.

When she parted they both gasped and their expressions mirrored each other. Blown-out pupils, drooped lids, pink, wet lips, and harsh breaths inhaled into their chests.

“Yes. I’ll go with you to your room.”

They couldn’t go together. Out of necessity. She was taken in a separate car to his hotel and then ushered to the penthouse suite he was staying in.

And she understood the hullabaloo. She knew it was necessary. Not only had she been a fan of his since his One Direction days, and had seen how his fans were crazy, but she also got to see it with her own eyes all the young girls outside of the hotel waiting for him to appear.

His suite was just as posh as she thought it would be. Tall windows overlooked the city lights. The room she entered had tall ceilings, a piano along the wall, flowers on an elegant table, wainscoting wrapped the walls from edge to edge, large wooden doors with intricate carvings, a huge leather couch, and two wool woven armchairs on either side with a low-profile wooden coffee table in the center that looked antique. A huge flatscreen TV across from the couch, a chandelier above, expensive artwork adorned the walls, and a fireplace on the other side with another sitting area and plush pillows piled over the chairs.

Not wanting to wait another second to feel her lips on his, Harry pulled her into his arms and they continued right where they’d left off.

Wet lips and tongues gliding together slowly until Y/n pulled his elbow, “Let’s sit down.”

Harry followed her to the loveseat that faced the fireplace and gestured for him to sit as if it were her room. He nodded and sat, keeping his legs spread apart as he watched the pretty girl climb over him and straddle his lap.

The moment she sat down she felt him under her. He was rock-hard.

“You poor thing. Do you need help, Harry?” She looked at him innocently as he parted his pink lips and nodded.

“Yeah? What do you need then?” She dipped in to kiss him again as she rocked herself over him and he groaned at her moxy. She was quite confident. Harry was already in love.

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

She kissed down over his jaw slowly and heard his chest vibrate as she got lower. What did she want? Well, she wanted to look at him. Wanted to perceive his body up close without any clothes. Wanted to touch his skin and see his tattoos and kiss his pecs and his abs. She wanted to see him.

“Let’s get your clothes off. I want to see you, Harry.”

He was not shy about his body. He’d never been. He had absolutely no problem whatsoever hanging out naked in front of friends or wearing only briefs in front of his family. Though some would urge him to put clothes on, Harry didn’t care if anyone saw his schlong or his balls (well maybe he didn’t want his mom and his sister to see all that).

So when he began to take his clothes off and kept his eyes on hers she watched as he exposed skin little by little. His chest came into view. The laurels, the butterfly, the swallows… He was a god.

But then, when he stood to remove his pants she got to her knees and stuck her fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein underwear, and looked up at him, “Can I take these off of you?”

“Please.”

She smiled at the please. She was tempted to run her palm over the large bulge under the fabric of his briefs first but she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to see him. The moment she pulled the stretchy material down and his cock plopped outward toward her face she moaned as she looked at it closely. Continuing to pull his briefs down his legs, she kept her eyes on his hardened organ. It looked heavy.

“Harry…” she breathed out a moan and looked up at him in all his naked glory. It was even better than she imagined. “Fuck.”

Running her hands up his thighs she focused on the tiger tattoo and delicately kissed over the ink. The solid tissue under his skin was taut. He was strong. His thighs were thick with muscles. Good for a nice hard fuck with lots of stamina, she imagined.

“Can I touch your pretty cock, Harry?” She asked him as she looked up from her spot on her knees. Y/n was still fully dressed but she needed to worship his body for a bit first. It was very important. His build was perfection and he deserved the praise and attention for it.

“Yes, please.” He nodded.

She grinned and tilted her head, “I love it when you say please.”

She turned her focus to the thickened cock before her. He was so hard the foreskin was effectively pulled back revealing his engorged, pink tip. Smooth and pretty. She flattened her palms along either side of his dick over his trimmed pubes and let her fingertips reach up to the laurels at his hips before she grazed her thumb along his shaft.

Harry gasped as he watched her touch him and inspect him. He loved her attention.

“You’re so warm,” she cupped her palm under his shaft and lifted upward. “It’s heavy.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips over the laurels on his hips and sighed as his cock nudged against her chest. The man was incredible. A work of art. She smoothed her palms upward to his stomach and over his abs, tight and well-muscled. Masculine. Pretty.

Y/n had always appreciated how attractive and fit Harry was from afar. Making up scenarios in her head that allowed her to touch him and lick him and do ungodly things to him. Imagining he’d pluck her from the crowd and invite her backstage and then bring her back to his room and fuck her brains out. And she felt like her fantasy was now becoming a reality.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you and see you up close. You’re so sexy, Harry,” she purred as she brushed her hands down to his sides and around his low back as she looked up at him standing over her, “Can I put it in my mouth?” She directed her eyes to his cock and then back up to him.

“If you want. Is it easier if-“

“Just like this. Just need you in my mouth,” she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and lifted him upward, and licked the underside of his cock all the way to the tip. He tasted clean. She could tell he’d showered after the show. He smelled good and he looked even better.

Harry wasn’t sure what to do with his hands but he settled on putting his fingers at the back of her head gently. Not to push her or force her down but just to feel her in his hands and to touch what he could reach.

Kissing the ridge of his frenulum she kept her eyes upward on his as she widened her mouth and put her tongue out before gently wrapping her lips around his smooth tip. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her take him.

She licked and sucked the tip as she slowly stroked him at his base. Pulling back she smiled up at him, “You’re so long. I don’t think I can take you all the way. I’m gonna do my best to make it feel so good for you.” With that, she put his tip back into her mouth and got to work.

Harry groaned and let out the smallest whine, “S’okay. You’re perfect. Just like that, angel.”

She smiled around him and moaned softly at the little nickname. Angel. She figured that was cute.

With her free hand, she brushed her fingers over his thigh and the fine hairs over his skin. There wasn’t any single part of him that wasn’t gorgeous.

Bobbing her head and getting into a good rhythm she found that she could take him a little more. He was still quite thick, though, and it proved difficult.

“You don’t have to… fuck, fuck!” Harry moaned. She felt so good around him doing it just like she was. If she couldn’t deep-throat him he’d still be the happiest man on the planet at that moment. “Don’t have to go so deep. I wanna taste too…” he panted his words.

She pulled back when she tasted his precome and kissed her lips down his shaft to his pubes, seeing flecks of her glitter in the thatch of hair that surrounded his thick base, and then looked up at him before shifting to stand up. She dipped in to kiss his butterfly tattoo, gently poking her tongue out as she went and then upward to his pecs. Using her tongue she lapped at the muscle and wet his nipple before kissing all around, feeling his hair tickle her lips as she let her mouth drag over his skin. She traveled to the other side, her hands on his ribs, kissing and licking at his pectoral.

She sucked his nipple into her mouth and moaned when he gasped in response. Up she ventured to his swallows just under his clavicle, kissing the ink over his bone and skin and then his neck again.

“You’re gonna make me come just like this. Holy shit.” Harry was so hard it hurt and her lips on his skin felt like magic. “Please. Let me lick you too. Take this off.” He pleaded as he plucked at the fabric of her bodysuit.

Y/n stood back and began to unzip the back as she watched Harry. The girl was gorgeous already. Her hair with glitter and soft lips, round doe eyes… but when her tits softly bounced from the fabric she had them trapped under he nearly fell to his knees.

Her nipples were already tight and hard and the flesh that surrounded them was indulgent. Plump. He watched as she pulled the material down her body until she was nude. She’d had nothing on under her bodysuit.

Harry reached to cup her breasts and the moment his palms found her delicate skin and felt her nipples pressing into his hand he leaned down and wrapped his lips around her nipple.

Harry Styles pink lips were sucking on her nipple. The Harry Styles (she repeated in her mind). She didn’t know what sort of good thing she’d done in life to deserve having this happen but she would not question it. She stuffed her fingers into his soft curls and cooed at him, “Feels so good, Harry. I love having your mouth on my skin like this.”

Harry squeezed and kneaded and licked and sucked. He peppered kisses over every inch of her breasts until Y/n was keening and her fingers were tight in his hair.

He pressed his lips to hers and pulled her toward the big bed, her back hitting the mattress solidly before he climbed between her legs and moaned at the state she was in, “Just need a taste. Is that okay?” He looked up at her, his hands smoothing from the inner bend of her knee up toward the top of her inner thigh, inches from her pussy.

“Yes. Of course, it is.” She was going to say more but the words caught in her throat as she watched him go in tongue first. Her cushiony crease was damp and tasty.

Pushing her deeper into the bed, he kept himself between her thighs before putting his arms under her hip and pushing his shoulders against the back of her thighs to keep her spread and open for him.

He began to lick and lap as he watched her eyes. The scruff on his face brushed at her soft skin and her pussy lips felt it too. But she was not going to stop him. She hoped she had scruff burn, or whatever the equivalent of a carpet burn from being eaten out by a man with an overgrown trim on his face was called.

Soft and wet and cushy. Harry was gentle with his licks and kisses. He was wetting his lips and tasting her arousal, swallowing it down, and digging in a little deeper when she started to pant and swivel her hips.

Suddenly the quick flicking of his tongue on her clit caught her off guard from the subdued licking and kissing he’d issued her at first. She moaned as she watched his pink tongue ravage her button. He was pushing into it, flicking it, pressing it down, lifting it up, and then… then he looked into her eyes as he wrapped his lips around her clit and pulled it into his mouth. Slurping noises took over the easy slushy sound of his tongue licking through her folds.

“Harry!” She craned her neck to see what sorcery he was performing, “You’re so good. Right there… yes!”

He had a few go-to cunnilingus moves. This one always seemed to get the biggest reaction the fastest. It also brought women to orgasm in record time. It took some practice but he’d suck the clit and continue flicking his tongue while applying pressure with his mouth over the pelvis.

And the way she was squirming indicated she was enjoying it very much.

He released her clit and then went back to slow licks and kisses up her crease. He stopped at her entrance and lapped at the slick spot for a moment before sticking his tongue inside as far as it would reach. Nuzzling in as close as he could get, he poked his tongue in and out and nudged his nose to her clit, rubbing back and forth.

“Fuck! Yes… Oh my god!”

Harry gently rocked his hips down into the mattress. His cock was throbbing. But he wanted her to come.

Y/n saw his motion and could tell he must be aching. And as much as she’d have loved to let him take his time and eat her out it could take awhile to get her to come from that alone. But she knew one thing that would satisfy her like nothing else.

“H…Harry?” She panted her words as he continued working at her pussy with his mouth.

He lifted his face, “What is it?”

“Would you… Do you want to have sex?” She wasn’t sure if that was where this was headed. Oral sex was great of course. But she’d seen his cock and his body was strong and lithe and she knew he’d be good at fucking. It was all she could think of. Having him inside of her, splitting her open, moving into her repeatedly…

Harry sat up, his chest red and his cock even redder, “Sure. I mean… I’d love that. But this,” he gestured toward her and then himself before putting his palm back on her inner thigh, “is only just for tonight. I just want to make that clear. I’m still on tour and… well you know.” His breaths were deep and ragged.

He hated to give the spiel right then, but it hadn’t come up and if there was one thing he learned in all of his years of having casual sex, it was to be upfront even if it put a slight damper on the mood. It was better than waiting until afterward.

She nodded and grinned, “Well yeah. I didn’t think you’d propose to me or anything. I know what this is. Just for tonight.”

Harry and Y/n positioned themselves on the bed into the pillows and Harry reached over to grab a condom but Y/n took it from him before he could open the wrapper, “Let me put it on you, big guy.”

Harry clenched his jaw and watched the pretty girl tear the wrapper and then straddle his thighs as she held his thick shaft in her palm so she could position the condom over his head before slowly rolling it down over his shaft, “Mmm… It’s tight on you. You’re so big, Harry.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Harry was a big fan of having his ego stroked. Loved being complimented. Praised. Loved when his cock was fawned over.

When the condom was on, Harry grabbed her hips as she climbed over him, lowering her pussy against his condom-covered cock and slipping up and down his shaft to wet the condom.

Glitter was everywhere. On his torso, on her tits, his shoulders, her thighs. She was too far gone to worry about what that could mean for later. She just wanted to feel him inside of her. She ached to have him inside of her.

Their mouths met again as they moved slowly together. Y/n could feel Harry’s tight grip on her thigh and then as he moved one hand to cup her ass, he squeezed and bucked up gently.

She couldn’t wait to get him inside of her so she lifted herself to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders, “Can I fuck myself on your pretty cock now? You ready to feel me?”

Harry moaned, “God yes.”

Harry was in awe of how she was speaking to him. Not shy and not over the top with how she was taking the lead either. She still allowed him to do things he wanted, but she took initiative and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

She grasped the base of his cock and looked down to where they were pressed together as she placed him at her entrance. Harry’s rigid cock was thick and she felt how tight the fit was the moment she slid down over his crown.

Harry groaned and moved both of his hands to her tits and squeezed as she took her time sitting over him.

“You’re so hard, Harry. So thick. Do you feel that?”

Harry’s head was spinning. Y/n was exactly what he needed for the night. The perfect combination of sexy and bold. An angel who knew what she wanted and took it. “Yes, angel… god… gonna dream of this forever,” he looked into her eyes once she was finally seated over him, his dick pressed into her so deep she was sure there had never been anyone that had reached that far into her before.

She knew this was just for the night. Understood Harry’s reasoning and figured that’s what this was going into it. But this was something she’d never forget. She’d always look back on this fondly. And even though he was looking at her in such a way that felt far more intimate than it should, she wouldn’t allow herself to wonder what it would be like to see him again. Because that was definitely not going to happen.

When she began to glide up and down shallowly they both panted in shaky breaths. Harry was glad the condom was giving him the slightest barrier so he didn’t come immediately. Because her tits and her skin, the soft specs of glitter, her lips, and tight pussy were begging for his orgasm. Begging for his come. Everything about her was sex. A gift in the form of a glittery angel that was coaxing and urging an orgasm from him.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard. Fucking perfect,” Harry whispered as she slowly ground over him and pressed her clit into his pelvis.

She nodded and smoothed her hands up, one at the side of his neck, the other on his jaw, “Yeah? My pussy feels so good, doesn’t it? Nice and tight around you. I just know I’m gripping the fuck out of your big cock.”

She moved slowly over him. Gently riding herself on his dick and keeping her clit stimulated as they kept their eyes on one another.

Finally, she leaned in and pressed her lips on his neck and squeezed at the opposite side of his throat as she nipped his skin and drew her mouth upward to his jaw, “God it feels so good, Harry.”

It did feel good. The best maybe. She loved that she got to be in control a little. Loved how he was letting her take the reigns. But she did want him to fuck the life out of her. Put his strong muscles to work. To make a loud chorus of sex sounds and moans bouncing off the walls of the suite.

Stopping her gentle rocking and grinding she licked into his mouth slowly before pulling away, “I need you to fuck me so hard that I feel it for days. Okay? Since this is all we get, want to take you with me through the week.”

Harry let out a whimpered laugh as she removed herself from his lap. Harry followed her and climbed over her as she laid herself down on her back.

He would give her exactly what she wanted. Harry could fuck. That was for certain. He didn’t work out as hard as he did for no reason. And he was attentive so he knew he could at least make it fun. He hoped to give her an orgasm and that was the goal. But if she wanted it hard, wanted to feel him for days, he’d make sure of that.

He pushed himself between her thighs and pulled her hips toward him, elevating her bum off the mattress the slightest as he placed his fingers on her clit, “I’ll fuck you hard, angel. But you tell me if you need anything or you need me to stop. Okay?”

Y/n nodded and grinned at him, “Give it to me, Harry,” she moaned and rolled her hips upward, pressing her clit into his hand. Her thighs were angled upward with her feet flat on the mattress, her bottom resting between Harry’s thighs as he sat back on his haunches. This position would give him plenty of leverage to fuck into her hard and deep using his strong thighs.

Harry’s whole shaft was already coated in her as he lined himself up with her pussy. Removing his fingers from her clit he leaned forward and gave her tits an obligatory squeeze before he pushed his tip in, feeling the tight snap of her muscle expanding and receiving him.

They moaned in unison at the feel of him entering her slowly. He pressed in and slicked himself back out to the tip, watching the way she stretched around him, perfectly wet and aroused for him. And the next plunge he took wasn’t slow at all. She gasped as he slammed himself in to the hilt and held onto her hips, knocking her upward and making her tits bounce.

His pace was relentless and she knew it would be. He was strong and full of stamina. Each thrust and prod into her guts felt deeper and deeper and sharper and achier. She loved it.

She could barely get a single moan out with the way he was punching himself into her.

And just like she wanted, the sounds of sex surrounded them. Skin thudding together wetly, the smallest squeak of the bed rocked in time with his harsh thrust as he hammered into her, and their deep breaths and moans.

The view of her pussylips gripping him on each stroke was phenomenal. The smells, the sounds… The way her tits bounced and her mouth was dropped open. He knew at the very least she was enjoying it.

She moved her hand down her torso and to her clit while the other hand grasped onto one of Harry’s forearms where he kept a tight grasp on her hip.

Soaked. She was absolutely drenched. Her fingers slid over her throbbing button back and forth as Harry thrusted himself in and out deeper and deeper.

“This what you wanted, angel?” Harry asked the pretty girl who was quite clearly fucked out and flopping upward every time he plunged in balls deep.

Her tongue slid over her wet lips, “Oh! Fuck, Harry!” She gasped loudly.

Coming to a halt, he buried himself in until his balls were pressed into her bottom and he undulated his hips to punctuate just how deliciously deep he was inside of her.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of his cock grinding into her, [TK1] “You’re fucking me so good right now,” her chest was rising and falling and Harry couldn’t help when he brought a hand up to her breasts to fondle and press over her nipples, thumbs gliding over the supple skin. She sucked in a sharp breath and stretched her neck, keeping her eyes on his, “But you can always go harder.”

Harry blinked and coughed out a laugh, “Really? You want harder? Can I spank you?”

Y/n nodded quickly, “Fuck yes.”

And that was that. Harry loved a good spanking (whether giving or receiving if he were honest). He pulled out from her sweet pussy and lowered himself over her to kiss her mouth quickly.

But the moment he pulled away she was sitting up and turning herself around to give him access to her ass. On her hands and knees, she looked at him from over her shoulder and noted the way he was taking her all in.

He whined and grabbed onto the globes of her bum and smushed the flesh in his hands. Smoothing his palms over the expanse of her backside he brought them down to the backs of her thighs and then back up, letting his thumbs drag inward and through her wet pussy crease before finally issuing the first harsh strike.

She jumped at the sudden impact but when his palm came down on the other side she melted into the way his big hands felt on her. The sting and the leftover burn. Repeated smacks on either side were interrupted when he slammed his cock into her.

“Fuck I need to be inside of this pretty pussy.” He continued smacking her bum as he drove into her with long and hard strokes, bucking into her with meaningful thumps.

Y/n grasped the blankets under her and kept herself steady but by the time he was finished bruising her backside, his hips began to rock into her at a jarring pace once again. She slowly began to slip forward from his force.

With the front of Harry’s thighs pressed into the back of hers he put an arm under her middle to keep her from slipping too far down. His other hand moved from her hip down to her bum and pulled at the cheek as he rutted into her, a steady clatter of bodies knocking together.

Y/n reached down to rub her clit again, pushing Harry’s arm out of her way. He breathed out a laugh but moved his arm, bringing his other hand to the other side of her bottom, pulling both cheeks apart so he could watch himself sink into her over and over again. Small bits of her white cream were smearing over his condom and he imagined what it might look like to fill her up with his come and fuck himself into her, pushing his own orgasm deep into her insides.

“Harry!” She managed to cry out. It was difficult to speak at all but she was so close and the way he was rocking his hips into her in heavy plunges was perfection.

“I know, angel! You gonna come?” Harry’s words were strained. He was holding out for her to come first. Wanted to feel the squeeze and the throb of her pussy around him.

“Yes! Keep going!”

Harry could feel her fingers brushing against his balls as she rubbed her clit rapidly.

“M’gonna come… please, Y/n! Come for me angel!” He was trying his very best to stave off his orgasm but the view of her taking him and the sounds of him wetly plunging into her were sending him over the edge.

Suddenly Y/n removed her fingers from her clit and brought her hand behind her to grab Harry’s and pulled it forward, placing his palm over the front of her neck, “Choke me.”

Harry groaned as he put one palm flat onto the mattress next to her and used his other hand to squeeze at the sides of her neck. His strokes became slower, his hips pasted to her, pushing inward deep and heavy and sticky.

She sucked in one desperate gasp before his grip tightened just enough that she began to feel that sparkly, wooly stupor she loved with being gently choked. She reached for her clit and all she could focus on were the sounds of Harry grunting and moaning softly into her ear and the feel of his cock lodged deep into her guts. He wasn’t pulling back, only fucking himself forward, deeper and deeper as she submitted to her orgasm.

Harry could hear her wet gurgle and feel the way she vibrated under his body as he rocked into her and then the pulse of her soft walls, wrapped around his cock, gripping him tight as she fell into the realm of stupor and ecstasy.

He let go of her neck and straightened himself out, putting his hands onto her bottom and spreading her as he began to pound into her, long, smooth strokes of his cock nudging into her insides, stretching and splitting her as she came with shaky thighs.

“Fffucckk!” He threw his head back, the image of her swollen, wet, fucked out pussy seared in his brain as he began to come into his condom, filling it up with warm liquid. He groaned loudly into the suite as his balls were being properly drained, wishing, imagining he was giving her his come, coating her insides with him where her body would receive, swallow it, and use it accordingly.

“Oh my god, Harry!” Y/n gasped. He had nudged himself in as deep as he possibly could and the throb of his heavy cock in her felt like decadence. She couldn’t wait to check out the marks his fingers left behind the following day. The little secret only she’d know.

They collapsed together into the bed, Harry pulling out and carefully taking his condom off, discarding it on the floor without much care.

“You’re gonna stay here with me tonight?”

She let her fingers slowly work their way up his abs and over the butterfly, “If you want me to. I don’t mind leaving.”

She didn’t want to leave and Harry didn’t want her to either.

“I want you to stay. I’ve got a wake up at 9 am for a training session so, we can get you a taxi to your hotel or wherever you need then,” he sighed and dug an arm under her shoulder, dragging her toward himself.

Closing her eyes and smiling into his shoulder she nodded, “That sounds great.”

It was a shame this was all only for the night. He’d been an excellent lover, but it was fair of course. He was a busy, famous, pop star. She couldn’t blame him for setting that boundary. She was glad she even had the chance with him at all.  This would definitely be something she’d never forget.

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[hsdiaries]

after show adrenaline.

famous!harry x y/n

quick little blurb, about 1.7k

sir kink, praise kink, oral m receiving, p in v.

I ran to the back of the stage, the roar of the crowd was still going behind me, echoing through building. It only added to the adrenaline rush I was feeling after tonight's show.

I felt good.

Truth was, I wanted to feel even better. I slowed my run to a quick walk, making my way to where I knew the car would be waiting for me. As I turned the final corner at the end of the hall, I saw the car, but what my eyes landed on was even better.

My sweet Y/N.

Just the sight of her made my cock twitch in my pants. She was wearing those damn black jeans I loved. They hugged her waist just right, holding her ass up, accentuating it's plumpness. A dainty button up top sat on her body, barely covering her tits that sat so perfectly on her frame.

When I finally reached her, she pushed up from the car, her hands wrapping around my neck. She never cared if I was sweaty after shows; a part of me thought it turned her on secretly, though she never admitted it.

"Best show ever, baby. I swear that was the best performance you've ever given." She said, her praising me only fueling my adrenaline.

"Yeah? The best?" I asked, smirking at her causing her to chuckle. She leaned forward and bit my lip, pulling it towards her before letting it go.

"The best." She smiled that sexy smile that she only ever gave me. I had seen every smile on her, and this one, the one that went slightly more to the left cheek than her right, it was just for me.

"Y/N, I need to show you something in the dressing room baby." I said, and she raised her eyebrows softly.

"Oh, really? What exactly?" She said and I laughed, kissing her forehead.

"You'll see." I said, kissing her softly before taking her hand in mine and leading her towards the dressing rooms. We had about fifteen minutes before they came to clean out the rooms, that was more than enough time.

We reached my dressing room and I quickly pulled her in, closing and locking the door behind us. I pushed her body against it, my hands gripping at her waist. The tip of my nose moving along the length of her neck.

"Y/N, I need some attention." I said, my lips meeting her neck, sucking softly against her skin. I heard her giggle, as her hands moved down the front of my body, my chest exposed through the jacket I was wearing tonight. She moved her hand over my cock, palming at it sweetly.

I bit at her neck, a soft moan escaping her, "You didn't get enough tonight?"

"It wasn't the type of attention you can give me baby, and you know it." I whispered against her neck, my tongue running up it to her ear. I bit at her ear lobe and her hand gripped on my hardening cocked.

"Because no one can tell you how good you are like I can, right sir?" She said, too sweetly for her own good. She palmed over my cock, and it only got harder under her touch, blood rushing without any control.

"No one can do a lot of things the way you do, Y/N." I said, moving my gaze to her and soon we were kissing, our lips loving harshly against one another. Her hands began fiddling with the button on my pants, moving the zipper down quickly, and pushing my pants and briefs down my legs. I felt the relief of my hard cock not being contained by my tight pants anymore, and groaned against our kiss.

She chuckled, moving down my body, trailing kisses until she was down on her knees. I watched as she grabbed hold of me, moving her tongue up my length, wrapping it around my tip until she finally took me in her mouth completely. She moved her mouth up and down my length so skillfully, her hand moving on the places her mouth couldn't, her other hand palming against my balls.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're an angel with those lips, baby, uhh..."I groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pushing her further down on me, my hips bucking towards her. She always took me so well, never a complain from her. I felt as my length curved down her throat, her saliva dripping down my cock and dribbling out of her mouth as I continued to fuck her mouth.

I felt as she used her hands on my thighs to push away from me, she peeked up at me through her long lashes, licking her lips. Her hands both on my length, moving up and down me, slick from how wet her mouth left me.

"I want you to fuck me, H. Fuck me baby, cause that's just something else your so good at. Driving yourself in and out of me. Making me come the way no one else ever has." She said, my core tightening at her words, abs contracting. She had this sweet way of saying the dirtiest things that just drove me insane.

I quickly retightened my grip on her hair, pulling her straight up on her feet. I brought her to my lips, kissing her desperately as I reached down to undo her jeans. Her hands wrapping around her neck, fingers crawling and wrapping themselves into my hair, tugging on it.

I quickly worked on pushing her jeans and underwear off her lower body, down her legs far enough she could step out of them. Once she did, I picked her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. She kept kissing me, her tongue finding mine, her hands moving to my shoulders as she began to grind her middle against my stomach. I could feel how slick she already was; her wetness coating my stomach with every movement and it caused a groan to escape my lips.

"Harry, I'm so wet for you." She said into our kiss, tugging at my hair as I walked us over to the couch in the room, quickly placing her down.

"I know baby, so good for me, so ready." I bit at her lip as I sat down with her on me, "Slip me in baby, ride me please."

She nodded, lifting her body slightly as I reached up and unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders. I loved that she never wore a bra, I loved that I could immediately take in her perfect tits, my hands palming at them; my fingers pulling at her nipples, teasing them between my fingers. I felt her take my cock in her hand, rubbing my tip against her opening, "Oh god." She moaned, beginning to slowly slip me inside her.

She was so tight, so warm and the slow circles she was drawing on me as she took me in further caused my head to fall back, "Fuck Y/N, god baby you feel so good." I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my face into her chest, placing kisses everywhere, moving my mouth over her nipples, sucking and licking them as she began bouncing on me more.

She would squeeze me, pulling me deeper inside her as she did. Her movements so confident, her moans so freely filling the dressing room.

"Oh Harry, oh god. Do I feel good sir? Does all this feel so good for you baby." She moaned, my lips still on her breasts. She knew what she was doing with her words, my grip tightening around her waist so my hips could move up, pushing my self deeper into her.

"So fucking good, Y/N, oh sweet girl. So fucking good." I said, my hips bucking up and meeting hers. She gripped onto my shoulder and I pushed back slightly so I could move my hand, placing my thumb on her clit. I rolled it in circles against it, causing her head to fall back. Her movements turned into slow circles, her hips grinding on my cock as she pushed herself against my finger. I was coated in her wetness and I didn't care.

"Haa...oh fuck, Harry, please don't fucking stop." She moaned, whimpers coating her heavy breathing. I grabbed onto her hip with my free hand, not wanting her movements to falter, keeping her hips moving on me.

"Come for me sweet angel, come on me baby, let me feel every bit of you." I said, her head coming back straight, our eyes locking as she nodded. She bit her lower lip, her eyes fluttering closed. She looked so sexy, every bit of her body like this, riding me, was pushing close to my undoing. I could feel my core tightening, and I groaned at how good she felt.

"I'm going to come...oh god like that...Harr..." she stopped moving, her body trembling as I kept moving my thumb on her clit, driving hard deep thrusts into her. She came, her moans rolling off her lips with profanities mixed in.

Her body, went slightly limp in my arms, and I used every bit of strength I had to pick her up so I could flip her over. I kept myself inside her the entire time. I placed her on the couch and brought her legs to my shoulders, pushing them against her body as I began thrusting in her. They were long, slow thrust as I used every last bit of energy I had to keep on going.

"Come for me, sir, please. God, you deserve it, please." She begged, her hands reaching up and pulling me to her. Our lips met messily, I felt my arm buckle slightly, and I reinforced my weight on it, driving my cock in her faster now, letting her slick guide me. She kept squeezing me, pulling me deeper inside with each thrust until finally I felt my release.

"Fuck." I groaned out, her lips peppering kisses on my chin and jawline. My breathing was heavy, both of us sweaty. I bit my lip, swallowing breaths that got caught in my throat.

She ran her fingers softly through my hair, she knew this always helped me come to after I came. Helped me relax.

"I'll fuck you like that after every show if you want." She whispered teasingly and I chuckled.

"How about you do it again at home first?" I said pulling out of her slowly, before moving to kiss her lips.

She bit at my lower lip and nodded, "All night of you please."

[thecuriousbeauty]

i had a funny idea: harry catches his friend (co-worker/assistant/photographer or whatever) reading a dirty fanfic about him 🤭

He catches you reading fan fiction

Harry Styles x Assistant! reader

A/N:- Thank you for the request, anon! Loved writing this spicy blurb! Please like and reblog to support me, xx.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Dirty talk, fingering, spanking, daddy kink.

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“You’ve been such a naughty girl. What should I do with you, hm?”

You suck in a breath and clench your thighs together as you move your finger over your phone, scrolling down on the story you just found out. You had noticed a lot of fans at Harry’s concert holding up signs that said, Tumblr girls and you were curious. Little did you know that once you’d open the site, you’d fall down into a rabbit hole full of fan fiction.

And not just fanfic. You were reading the dirty ones. The smut, as it was called.

“What’d you feel like eating, babe?”

You look up from the phone quickly. You had not noticed that Harry was out of the bathroom after his shower and he was standing there, looking at you as he dried his hair. Little drops of water still clung to his sculpted torso and his legs. He only had boxers on. 

Harry smirks, noticing you’re distracted and throws the towel away before running his fingers through his curly locks and flipping them back. “Like what you see, love?”

You blushed and looked away, making Harry chuckle as he walked towards you. “No, it’s cute! You look all blushy and flustered. What were you doing?”

“I um, uh I was going through emails..”, you say, quickly looking down at your phone to change tabs, but Harry was quick. He smelled amazing, being just out of the shower. It was a gentle fragrance, but it gave you a luxurious feel. 

“Going through emails got you clenching your thighs, baby?”, Harry asked as he leaned over you on the bed. “I wonder what that email’s about.”

“Harry-”, you squeak as his eyes move to your phone screen, his forehead pressing against the side of yours as he reads it from your hands. “It’s silly, I was just checking out what this was all about.”

“Hm, fan fiction, huh? So what do you think? Is it good?”, he asks, a smile tugging at his lips as his green eyes look into yours. 

“Y-Yeah. I’m sorry Harry, t-this must be awkward for you, I’ll-”

“-No, no, it’s not awkward, this is pretty interesting.”, he hums, settling beside you and starting to kiss down your jawline to your neck.His hand rides up your skirt. “Has it made you wet?”

You gasp as his fingers press onto your cover over your panties. His teeth nibble on the skin of your neck before his tongue laps over the mark he left, and you moan softly, parting your legs as his fingers slip inside your panties and stroke over your folds. 

“You’re soaking, baby girl. Guess you’re really enjoying reading this, right?” You didn’t get a chance to answer as he slipped two fingers inside you, starting to pump them in and out of you. “Were you imagining me doing all this to you?”, he asks. “Hm, baby?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.” Harry’s eyes turn darker with lust as the name rolls off your lips so easily. 

“Start reading darling, from the beginning.”, he tells you, adjusting your body so that you are in between his legs, your back pressing to his chest and your legs spread, letting him toy with your pussy. 

“W-What?” 

“You heard me.”, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, the other hand sneaking under your top to grab a hold of your breast. You weren’t wearing a bra, so he had easy access.

You swallow hard, before bringing your phone up so you can start reading. Harry kept scissoring his fingers inside you and playing with your nipples while his lips sucked on the soft skin in the back of your neck, making it harder and harder for you to read.

“A-And then he curled his fingers, stroking over the spot that could make her unfold in seconds..” You moaned as Harry did exactly that, his fingers petting over your grainy spot. “Is that the spot?”, he asks, even though he knows the answer. 

“Y-Yes..please..”, you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Read, baby. You can cum if y/n gets to cum.” You groaned, knowing you wouldn’t last long. 

“Just as she’s about to cum, he r-removes his fingers. N-Naughty girls don’t get to cum, t-they get punished.” 

You whine as Harry moves his hands away, and you drop the phone, turning to look back at him. “I-I was so close! Please Harry-”

“Ah, ah, what did you call me earlier?”, he strokes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Daddy.”, you squeeze his arm. “P-Please let me cum.”

“It’s not up to me baby, it’s up to the writer.” He leans forward to give you a soft kiss. “ Now stop whining, and continue reading like a good girl. Daddy wants to know what happens next.”

You whimper as he pulls you back against his chest. You really hoped the writer showed some mercy to y/n, or you were going to have a hard time tonight. It was all just too much. Harry was being so hot. You loved this, and you wanted this to keep going on, but god, you needed that release.

“H-He bends over his lap and flips up her skirt, hand stroking over the plump of her ass before landing the first strike. 'Naughty girls get spanked.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you read it. You can also feel Harry getting hard, his member was prodding hard against your ass. Harry groaned. “You know what to do, love. Up you get. Take off your top and bend over my lap.”

You thought you could cum from just hearing that. When you don’t move, he takes your chin, eyes peering into yours to check if you’re still okay with this. “I-I like it.”, you give him a small smile, assuring him. 

“Good. Let me know if you wanna stop, okay?” You nod and kiss him before getting up and taking your top off. Harry scooted to the edge of the bed and patted his thighs. “Take your phone too, you’re not gonna stop reading, baby.”

You grabbed the phone before bending over his thighs and he adjusts you so your ass is propped up. He flips your skirt up, running his hand over your soft, bare, skin. Your panties had already been discarded long ago. 

 “Such a cute little arse. Gonna look so pretty with my handprints on it, right baby?”

“Y-Yes daddy, mark me up..”, you hum and Harry groans, giving your right cheek a squeeze before lifting his hand in the air and bringing it back down with a smack. You let out a small yelp, but the pain quickly fades into pleasure as Harry rubs his hand over the sting. 

“Feels good, daddy, more..”, you moan, and he slaps your other cheek. “Dirty little slut. I bet you’re gonna cum from getting your ass spanked by your daddy.”

You were a mess over his lap, moaning and mumbling his name. His hand grips your ass cheek, fingers digging into the supple flesh as his other hand fists around your hair and lifts your head up. 

 “What’re you waiting for? I thought I told you to read.”

You moaned as he let your head drop, giving you another slap as you struggled to keep reading. You really should’ve picked a shorter fic.

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Taglist:-@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug (Lemme know if you want me to add your name to the taglist!)

[sweet-creature101]

Washing Machine Heart

Summary: You, a reserved student find yourself in the midst of an intense with Harry Styles, who happens to be your friend’s boyfriend. Your connection ignites into a consuming, high-stakes affair, each encounter fraught with desire and danger, pushing both of you to the brink as you wrestle with guilt and loyalty.

A forbidden affair; affair trope.

Warnings: mention of alcohol. LOTS OF ANGST.

27th February 2014

4:08 p.m

The wind was cold today and so were you. The sun, hidden under a cloak of clouds, was nowhere to be seen. The streets of London never looked so desolate and dull. Even the usually vibrant Villon Street today looked as if it had been washed in grey and white. Your shoes clacked against the hard pavement, your focus directed at the wind and the cold that nicked at your face.

Over the years you developed a perception that you’re invisible, a shadow slinking in corners long forgotten. You look around, your ears blocking out the chatter and squeals of your friends; friends who would often disregard you when together, far too immersed in each other's stories of disastrous flings and affairs. But they were your friends, your friends to call, your friends to keep no matter how ignorant or oblivious they sometimes became.

“Y/N?” Sharon suddenly spoke out loud, drawing you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You suddenly asked, your posture becoming straighter, your eyes becoming alert.

Sharon looked at you intently, her blue eyes scanning you up and down before sighing. “There’s a party tomorrow at, what 7?” Sharon asked Regina in the middle of her sentence.

Regina simply nodded while texting, her wispy brown hair wafting with every gust of wind. Sharon continued, “Yes, so there’s a party tomorrow at the frat house. Would you like to join? We’re all getting ready at my place.”

Sharon and you lived in the same apartment building. You were looking for the cheapest accommodation, a one-bedroom apartment off campus because living with absolute strangers was far too daunting for you. And that is how you met Sharon, whom your mother instantly loved owing to her extroverted demeanour.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled at the three girls.

“Great!” Tara exclaimed.

The four of you spent the next hour drinking coffee and discussing your outfits for the party; albeit you occasionally answered in full sentences, opting for curt words instead. As the clock struck seven in the evening, Tara and Regina decided to head back to campus while you and Sharon made your way to Greene Street, where your apartments were situated. “Come with me, I have to show you my new dress,” Sharon said before you got a chance to head to your apartment.

Sharon’s apartment was right next to yours but seemed a world apart. Her apartment was littered with stray clothes, makeup and syllabus books everywhere while yours sported an impressive collection of novels, journals and trinkets and the walls were painted with various constellations, flowers, sunsets or anything you wished to preserve.

You stepped over Sharon’s strewn clothes and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come out. Suddenly the doorbell rang and you were up in qualms, not knowing what to do.

“Sharon, someone's at the door.” You said, standing close to the bathroom door so that she could hear you clearly.

“Must be Harry, why don’t you open it? It’ll take me a while in here.” Sharon replied.

You stood for two seconds, mapping out your plan of action when the bell rang for the second time. “Coming!” You yelled.

You opened the door and there stood Harry Styles, Sharon’s five-month long boyfriend. A bouquet of roses held in his right hand, a silly smile etched on his face.

“You’re not Sharon.” Harry chuckled. His voice sounded radiant, his green eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You stand correct. She’s in the washroom,”

“Ah, well how are you?” Harry asked, being the gentleman he was taught to be.

“Careful or else I might think these flowers are for me.” You joked dryly.

Truth be told, initially, Harry had his sights set on you, the girl who always lingered beyond time in the library, who would laugh at jokes only once she saw everyone else was laughing around her. This is why he talked to Sharon, to make her help him talk to you but somewhere along the way lines got blurred and Harry got confused. Fatally confused. Confused enough that his lack of decisiveness led him to a relationship he never wanted to be in but nonetheless followed through for he had nothing better to do. And now as you opened the door, a small part of him hoped that the situation in front of him was not because of coincidence but because of will.

“Harry!” A squeal from behind took his focus away. He looked behind to see Sharon, in a tight red dress looking at him with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.

“Got these for you,” Harry said, walking in. He grabbed Sharon by the waist and gave her a kiss.

Harry did not notice when you left, but could only feel you leave. Like a silent wraith gliding from one world to the next.

28th February 2014

10:42 p.m

The music playing was absolutely deafening. The cup in your head seemed like a dead weight. You had a few beers, only to make conversations with all these people less turbulent. The short denim skirt you wore kept on riding up your thighs and the white tube top you wore seemed to stick to your skin. Tara had run off to somewhere with Regina and Sharon was far too immersed in making your drink.

“Don’t add too much vodka Shar,” you tell the girl, turning your focus towards the kitchen island littered with bottles of alcohol and empty cups.

“Of course, of course,” Sharon said, nodding, as she proceeded to empty the bottle of vodka in her hand in the two cups in front of her. “Now for the real question Y/N, coke or straight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Straight?” You opted for drinking it straight because you found the taste of vodka to be borderline unbearable, so you opted to take it as a shot. To get it over with rather than let the audacious taste linger on.

“Straight it is,” Sharon said, handing you your cup. “Oh, and I honestly don’t know how much I poured. Let my hand loose if you know what I mean.” The girl chuckled. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and drank the shot all at once. You did the same, cringing at the taste, feeling as if you were about to puke.

“Water!” Sharon immediately scrambled for a glass of water on seeing your expression. She handed the glass to you, her expression wary.

“All good.” You said as you kept the glass down.

“Hah great! I’m gonna go look for Harry now.”

“Oh yeah, have fun.” You said smiling at her, your speech a bit slurred.

You made your way to the back of the house and sat next to the pool. Your head started to spin, and a newfound sense of numbness settled over your bones. One that you found quite relaxing. You closed your eyes and hummed contently, the loud music and presence of people no longer bothering you as it was before.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice. You opened your eyes and saw Harry walk towards you.

“Hello, Harry!” You said enthusiastically, smiling as wide as you possibly could.

“You seem to be in a nice mood.” Harry chuckled at your behaviour.

“Come, sit next to me.” You gestured towards the space beside you. Harry took you up on your offer, sitting on the lounge chair next to you.

“You know, it took me two hours to straighten my hair. Not that it was difficult, but because I kept on asking myself if I really wanted to come here. Then there was this whole dilemma of not knowing what to wear. I wanted to wear my jeans but Tara said I can’t wear them because she’s wearing them, then I thought I could wear leather pants but Regina said she’s wearing hers so I can’t wear mine, although they don’t even remotely look the same. And what’s so bad about having similar outfits.” You huffed out. Harry looked at you with both surprise and awe because you had never talked more than ten seconds with him.

“Well, I for one think you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” Harry said, looking at you with sincere eyes.

“Really?” You asked him. The doubt in your eyes made Harry want to hug and hold you.

“Really. I don’t think there’s anyone as beautiful as you here Y/N.” Harry said.

He didn’t miss the way your gaze softened, your lips dropping into a small smile. You drew closer to him. He could feel your bare thighs touch his and it was as if his entire being had narrowed down to the parts where your skin touched his. He felt his heart skip a few beats when you kept your head on his shoulder and held his hand in yours.

Oh, how he wished to kiss you at that moment! He had to physically stop his hand from trailing up your neck, all the way to your face. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin and kiss every inch of it, slowly and gently. He wished he could stretch time to its fullest and preserve this moment in a photograph that he could stow away in his pocket.

“Sharon was looking for you. Sorry, I didn’t tell you earlier.” You whispered, half expecting him to get up and leave.

“It’s okay,” Harry replied quietly, his grip on your tightening as he pulled you in closer.

4th March 2014

11:16 p.m

The month of March is a month full of oddities and complexities. It seems to be a kind of cloth wherein the hem was left undone, leaving it to fray in any and every direction. You do not know what to expect until you step outside. The sunshine that seems to be warm from your window is truthfully cold, or the chilling wind blowing outside is actually warm. Needless to say, March is a month with its seam left undone.

And in that undone seam, in a mess of threads and needles is where you found yourself. A new set of feelings dawned on you. Feelings for Harry. You felt your heart skip a few beats every time you looked at him. But there was Sharon, his girlfriend and more importantly your friend. This constant tug of war between what you desire and what is morally incorrect tired you. You tucked away all your worries in the back of your head for tonight, your sole focus being the movie playing in front of you.

You get up from the couch in which you lay to fetch yourself a bag of crisps. While making your way to the kitchen, your doorbell rang. You were expecting no one, especially not at this time. A million scenarios rushed through your head, full of probable outcomes (albeit most of them ended up with you dead on your living room floor). The doorbell rang a second time now. You picked up your ornithology textbooks, two of them together hoping that the sheer width of them combined would help you knock out whoever it was outside.

You open the door, half ready to start swinging like hell when you see Harry. The top buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, showing his built chest and muscled arms. His broad shoulders seemed to block out your doorway.

He looked ravishing.

You mentally smacked yourself for thinking in such a way about a boy who happened to be in a relationship, that too with a girl who happened to be your friend. “What are you doing here Harry? Sharon’s apartment is the one on the right.” You said, envisioning that him ringing your doorbell was an honest mistake.

“I know.” He said, smiling at you. He leaned against your doorframe, towering over you. You crossed your arms and looked at him.

Harry did not miss the way you scanned him up and down, how your breath so subtly hitched when you saw his chest. He found the flimsy night suit you wore to be quite cute, if not tempting. A button-up half-sleeved satin shirt with red hearts all over it and a pair of dangerously short shorts to accompany it.

“What’re you watching?” Harry said, walking in and sitting on your sofa. “Rio, huh? Good choice I’d say.” He said, smiling at you, stretching his body.

“Make yourself right at home will ya?” You muttered under your breath. “Why are you here though?” You asked him as you settled down next to him.

“Do you mind my company? Although I don’t think so.”

“Is there something you want from me? If so, just ask me so that we can stop with the small talk bullshit.” You firmly said.

“Yes actually, I do want something,” Harry said turning to look at you.

“Which is?”

“To spend time with you.”

“What?”

“I just told you what I want, kitten,” Harry said. You were grateful for the low lighting in your living room that hid the blush creeping on your face.

“You’re drunk Harry.” You reprimanded him. He only smiled at you, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just a bit tipsy Y/N.”

“Hmm. Okay, what do you want to watch then?” You ask, turning your focus away.

“Rio’s good.” He said.

“Okay.”

You resume the movie and lean back. Harry watched you intently. He noted every moment of yours, the way your chest would rise and freeze when something would happen in the movie, the way your lips would morph into a smile and your eyes fill with wonder.

Harry slowly started to inch towards you, careful not to make too much noise. He tried to be as subtle as he could, stretching and spreading his legs simply to touch yours. He could see you relax as well, your upright posture now dissolving into a lazy spread. Slowly, inch by inch Harry moved towards you as if you were a magnet pulling him in your direction.

He put his arm behind you. His thighs touched yours and from the corner of his eye, he could see you in freeze. He smirked and continued to move closer.

The warmth radiating from Harry was more welcoming than you were willing to admit. A million questions raced through your head, ‘is this right?’, ‘This is wrong,’ ‘he has a girlfriend’ and most importantly, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way.’ However, in all reality, you were caught up in the exact same feelings the rational part of your brain was telling you to avoid. But you didn’t care.

So you nestled further in Harry’s embrace, falling into him. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his muscled arm come around and wrap your shoulders. You could feel the sheer strength of his chest, feel every sculpted muscle of his under your head. Your skin felt as if it were on fire, fire that did not burn you but only tingled you. A tingle that you felt erupting in the lower part of your stomach.

You look up to see Harry gazing down at you. “I gather you don’t find the movie interesting.” You said, he only smiled gently at you.

“Talking birds aren’t really my preference.” He said, his voice sounding raspy.

“Oh, I can change it,” you said, getting up but Harry pulled you down, which made you land on top of him. You were now sitting on his lap, your expression that of extreme fluster. “That won’t be necessary,” Harry said. He looked at you with a gaze that threatened to devour you as a whole. He dragged his thumb over your lip slowly.

Your breathing went shallow all of a sudden. The flimsy material of your nightshirt wasn’t thick enough to hide how your nipples hardened under his touch. “What are you doing?” You asked him, your words a mere pant leaving your lips.

“What I dreamt of doing for so long,” Harry said.

He slowly inched his head towards you, his lips inviting you. It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and he was the source of oxygen. The second your lips met with his you could feel your lungs fill with the air you lacked before.

Harry moved his hands up and down your body, feeling you as deeply as he could. Every inch of your skin, from the pads of your fingertips to your chest was on fire. A fire that Harry’s hands ignited in their wake. A fire that seemed to only burn and burn.

You started grinding your hips. Feeling his hard bulge under you. A desperate moan escaped his lips. You started to circle your hips more deeply, pressing your hot and dripping centre against him. You could feel the denim of his pants rub through the flimsy material of your shorts.

You were both a mess of pants and moans. Kissing each other as if the world threatened to end. A moan was about to fall off your lips when the bell rang. You shot up, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay angel.” He said, cupping your face in his hand.

You got up from his lap, now consciously aware of what had just happened.

“Y/N! Let me in!” Sharon spoke from the other end of the door. Your eyes were wide in alarm as you turned towards Harry. “Bathroom! Go!” You whispered to him, dragging him to your bathroom.

Once Harry was in, you opened the door. “Hi Sharon, what’s got you knocking on my door at this time?”

Sharon only rolled her eyes and walked in. “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically.

“Why what’s tomorrow?” You ask her.

“Harry’s taking me out.” She said as if you had asked a silly question.

“Oh.”

“I was thinking of wearing my red dress, or maybe the white one y’know the one with pearls and-”

“Sharon, listen I’d love to do this, but just not now.” You said, your voice meek.

“Why're you acting like this?” She asked you, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Like what?” You feigned innocence, already feeling guilty for refusing her.

“Like you have someone here. Do you, though?” She asked you, almost sounding accusatory.

Be calm. Be calm.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Anyways, you go to bed or whatever you were doing.” She said leaving your apartment.

You let out a deep breath and walked towards the washroom. You opened the door and saw Harry, standing behind the shower curtain, his brawny structure making him stick out like a sore thumb.

“You can come out now.” You said.

“Ah thank God, I thought I’d have to stay here the whole night.” He chuckled.

“No, Sharon was just asking what to wear for her date tomorrow. A date that you’re taking her on.” You stated blandly.

“Oh.”

“Oh God, this was never supposed to happen. What have we done?” You said dragging your palms down your face. Before you could say another word Harry hugged you. He hugged you long and tight.

And despite knowing better, you melted in his arms like putty.

28th March 2014

3:27 p.m

You sat in your car, in the parking lot outside the rugby stadium, waiting for Harry. This is what your life has come to now. Waiting outside in parking lots to meet Harry, subtle brushes against each other, locking eyes with each other. Harry did the same, waiting for you outside your classes, entering your apartment at odd times. Your relationship had transgressed from being purely physical to being a more emotional one. You would both simply sit next to each other, talking.

The world didn’t seem so lonely anymore for the two of you.

You look outside to see Harry walk towards you. His hair was wet and he wore a compression shirt that highlighted his muscled build along with loose baggy sweatpants. He smiled looking at you, a smile you had come to know was only reserved for you. He didn’t smile like this with Sharon or with his friends, a part of your heart fluttered at this knowledge.

“Hello, my love,” Harry said, getting in the car.

“Hi. How was practice?” You asked him.

“It was good, tiring as always. How were classes?” Harry asked you while throwing his duffel bag in the back of the car.

“Fine. Sharon wanted me to go out with her, Regina and Tara tonight.” You stated blandly. The sound of Sharon's name brought a lot of unwanted guilt in your head.

“Are you going?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. They don’t talk to me as much when sober, I doubt the outcome’s going to be different when they’re drunk.” You sighed. Your hands fidgeted with the steering wheel of the car. The rings on your hand clacked against it faintly.

“You can always change the people you’re around Y/N,” he said

“But I can’t,”

“But you can.”

“You can, I can’t. Being able to make friends or even just talk to people doesn’t come to me as naturally as it does to you, Harry.” You sighed, becoming frustrated at both the conversation at hand and your lack of social skills.

“It’s okay. I get it.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand.

“Do you, though?” You shot back, scoffing.

“Y/N, come on don’t be like this.” Harry pleaded. His voice was soft and buttery, coaxing you into a better place.

“Yeah, I’m sorry there’s just a lot that’s been on my mind as of late.” You breathed through your nose deeply. Your head felt heavy with all the anxiety you’d been feeling lately.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” You whispered meekly.

Harry slowly brushed his hand over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, gazing into his eyes as a smile crept up your face. You leaned towards him and kissed him. You cupped his face with your hands and drew him into you. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly and pulled you onto his lap, albeit it was uncomfortable because of the tight place.

You moaned at his touch, capturing his lip between your teeth and tugging at it. Harry was left absolutely breathless by your actions and pulled you down harder, his hands squeezing your hips and waist. You could feel every muscle of his flex because of the thin compression shirt he wore.

“Careful now. Don’t want anyone to see us.” You whispered in his ear.

“What if I do?” Harry said, looking at you with an intense gaze.

Your lower lip jutted out subtly, a subtle reflection of what you thought of his words. “Everyone’s going to call you a cheater and they’ll call me something worse probably.” You chuckled sadly. You gave Harry a sincere kiss on his cheek and made your way for your seat.

“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going or not?” He asked you.

“No.” You answered as you started the car.

“Then how about a movie night? Just the two of us.”

“Hm, at my place and I’ll decide what to watch obviously.” You said smiling at him.

“Whatever you say kitten,” Harry said, holding your hand and kissing it.

4th April 2014

10:07 p.m

The black sky above glistened with a million stars, your eyes fixated on them. Harry watched you watching the stars. He smiled to himself. He longed for you in a silent and torturous way. You often felt worlds away from him even when you were right next to him. He blamed his lack of decisiveness for this distance. He knew deep down that the distance between you two would eventually strangle the life out of the relationship you shared. He was desperate for you, pining only for you. His world would stop moving when you’d call him by his name, all his focus narrowing on you.

“It’s breathtaking.” You gasped looking up.

“It truly is,” Harry said, looking at you.

You were sceptical at first when Harry said he knew a spot. After a drive of half an hour, you found yourself at the peak of a small hill, untouched by civilisation except for a small concrete bench. It not only overlooked the whole city but also had a magnificent view of the sky above. The stars weren’t so explicitly visible in the city as they were here.

The cool air blew against your cheeks, kissing your face gently.

“Come, sit with me,” Harry said, calling to you. You walk towards him and sit next to him on the bench.

You sigh through your nose and look ahead. “I think about it sometimes, what our first date would look like.” You said. Your voice sounded mournful as if you were grieving the loss of a relationship that never existed.

“I’d get you flowers, maybe even chocolates if you’re lucky that day,” Harry said. He looked at you and saw how glazed your eyes were.

“But it doesn’t matter. You’re with Sharon, who hates me. And you know what’s even more pathetic, it’s the fact that she hates me yet she’s my friend.” You spoke, your voice wobbly and cracking. You often felt like a washing machine. Everyone would come and go and leave a piece behind in it. Sometimes the piece would break you, unable to function for months or sometimes it would simply stay there. That was worse, having a piece of someone stay forever even as the washing machine in your heart desperately tried to cleanse you of it. “It’s just the hand I was dealt with.” You quickly added.

“Why don’t you say something to them? You don’t deserve to be walked over all like that. You can’t let that happen to you.” Harry said.

“The same way you’re walking all over me now?” You chuckled darkly.

“What?”

“What are we, Harry? Are we just fucking? Are we just friends? What are we?” You ask the question that had been looming over the both of you like an axe that could drop any moment.

“I wish I could answer that,” Harry said, his head in his hands now.

“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Y/N. I swear.” Harry pleaded, holding your hands in his.

“Why did you kiss me that day?” You asked him, tears now falling from your eyes.

“Because it’s always been you. You, who I wanted all along.” He confessed.

The silence after his confession was all consuming, threatening to eat him up alive. Harry caught a glimpse of you, staring straight at the skyline. Silent tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to reach out and rub away your tears but refrained from doing so. The world seemed to close up on him. He missed the way it opened up with you.

“Y/N, angel? Say something.” Harry said with a soft voice. “Please.” He begged.

You turned to look at him. Harry looked devastating. A handsome prince you dreamt of as a kid. He was a prince, but not yours to claim rather only to keep for a fleeting moment. You brought a hand to his face and smiled sorrowfully at him.

“I suppose this is how things were supposed to be all along.” You whispered resignation etched in your voice.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, knowing the direction you were steering things in all too well.

“You have Sharon, Harry. Go to her.” You said.

Both of you sat there, time stretching painfully as if the universe was mocking your agony. Your eyes met one last time, a gaze full of regret and all things left unsaid. You leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips in your own for the last time. The kiss was hesitant at first, both of you afraid as if pressing too hard would shatter the fragile moment between you two. It was a kiss full of the things you couldn’t say, the dreams you had for one another, the conversations you shared.

And for Harry, as he kissed you a part of him mourned the confession that would never find its way to you. A three worded sentence, one that would change his life and yours.

I love you.

3rd May, 2014

1:17 p.m

“It’s amazing, how she’s just disappeared all of a sudden,” Sharon said, twirling her hair.

“Wait, who disappeared?” Harry asked her.

“Y/N.”

Harry and Sharon sat next to each other in her apartment. The wound you left in Harry’s heart was one he was doubtful would close. He dreamt of you, thought of you and longed for you. But he knew his thoughts would not materialise and you would only remain a figment of his past, a memorial of the right person wrong time concept.

“What do you mean?” He pressed the girl further.

“Ugh, I wasn’t supposed to tell this to anyone but I can’t keep it in me anymore. She’s leaving for Rio tomorrow, she’s got an internship at some sanctuary. I think the Sun would do her some good actually.” Sharon chuckled.

“Oh.” He felt his world was spinning.

“She's yet to give me my sweater. She’s actually supposed to give it today.”

Perhaps if it were fate, perhaps it was circumstance but whatever it was, Harry was thankful for it when the bell rang. “Don’t worry I’ll get it. You stay here.” He said and kissed Sharon’s head. He hoped it was you on the other side of the door.

And his prayers were answered.

There you were, standing in the doorway with a sweater in your hand. Your eyes widened slightly at Harry’s enormous yet so familiar frame, and his face, the same face that swept you off your feet now made you wary.

“You’re going to Rio?” Harry asked you.

“Yes. It’s an internship.” You curtly answered. You tried to walk in but Harry blocked your way, his muscled arm blocking your way.

“For how long?” He asked, cornering you as if you were prey and he a predator.

“Five years. They’ll start paying me after three months, so it’s more like a job I guess.” You said.

“And when were you going to tell me about it?” He asked you, his face stern and stoic.

“It’s not like we were dating.” You harshly said.

Harry hated this. This newfound sense of coldness between the two of you. He wondered how something so warm became so cold this quickly. The cold you left behind was one that could not be thawed, Harry would only have to live it.

“I love you Y/N,” Harry confessed. He didn’t miss the way your eyes softened, even if only for a moment.

“Lie to me again. I dare you.” You asserted, walking up to him. Your eyes were dark, distant and cold. Like a cold desert that never seemed to end.

“I’m not lying. I love you. I always have and always will.”

“I’d rather you not.”

—————-

A/N: Let me know how you like it in the comments and reblogs! I love talking to you all, send me asks and whatever you feel like! Thank you so much for reading!

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

My Boss's Son

Y/N, an assistant to Anne Twist, forms an unexpected connection with her son, Harry, when he comes home for the holidays.

Word Count: 9,464

Content Warning: Mentions of alcohol, kissing.

Mostly fluff.

Part one of two.

The light filtered through the blinds, casting faint stripes of gold across the room. I blinked against the brightness, my eyes slowly adjusting as I stretched my arms out, feeling the tension in my muscles ease. A deep yawn escaped me, filling the quiet morning air. The world outside seemed to hum faintly, the distant chirping of birds blending with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

I sat up, letting the covers slide off my shoulders. The room was still, yet alive with the promise of a new day. The faint aroma of coffee from the kitchen teased my senses, nudging me toward the day ahead. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I let my toes press against the cool floor, a gentle reminder that today was mine to shape.

As I stood, a faint shadow danced across the wall—a tree branch swaying outside the window. Something about the movement caught my attention, a quiet insistence that the day held more than routine.

After finishing my coffee, I carried the empty mug to the sink, rinsing it absentmindedly as my thoughts drifted to the day ahead. The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, filling the space with a soft, golden glow. I grabbed my phone from the counter and headed upstairs, each step creaking faintly underfoot.

Back in my room, I opened the closet door, revealing a neatly arranged array of clothes. My fingers brushed over the hangers as I flipped through the options—crisp blouses, tailored trousers, and a few statement pieces that Anne had complimented in the past. Getting dressed in the morning was never a struggle. My wardrobe was curated with care, blending professionalism with a touch of personality and casualness, just as my job required.

Working as a personal assistant to Anne Twist, a celebrated children's author based in the UK and mother to global superstar Harry Styles, came with its own unique blend of charm and challenge. Anne’s world was a whirlwind of creative projects, book signings, and interviews, and I was the one ensuring every detail went off without a hitch. It wasn’t just about organizing her calendar or prepping her notes—it was about anticipating her needs, often before she voiced them.

I finally settled on a simple navy blue dress with a subtle floral pattern, pairing it with a cardigan and comfortable flats. Anne had a penchant for warm, approachable styles herself, and I liked to reflect that in my own appearance. As I slipped on the outfit, I glanced at the framed photo on my dresser—a candid shot of Anne and me at a book launch, her arm draped over my shoulder, both of us laughing.

Today’s agenda was packed. A meeting with Anne's publisher, a conference call with a charity she supported, and later, a brainstorming session for her next book.I grabbed my bag and took one last look in the mirror. Polished yet approachable—that was the goal. Taking a deep breath, I smiled to myself.

The drive to Anne’s house was peaceful, the winding country roads lined with lush greenery and dappled sunlight. I rolled the window down just enough to let the cool morning air fill the car, carrying with it the faint scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. Anne’s home always felt like a retreat from the bustling world—a charming cottage with ivy climbing the walls and a garden that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairytale.

As I pulled into the driveway, Anne was already at the door, her warm smile radiating the same comforting energy as her home. She waved enthusiastically, her auburn hair catching the sunlight.

“Y/N!” she called out, stepping onto the porch. “You’re right on time, as always. Come in, come in! I’ve just put the kettle on.”

I climbed out of the car, grabbing my bag from the passenger seat. “Morning, Anne!” I replied, smiling as I approached. Her energy was infectious, and it was impossible not to feel instantly at ease in her presence.

Anne pulled me into a quick hug as I reached the door. “It’s so good to see you. I hope the drive wasn’t too long. You know how these roads can be,” she said, ushering me inside.

The familiar scent of lavender and lemon greeted me as I stepped into the house. The kitchen table was already covered in papers—manuscript drafts, notes, and a plate of freshly baked scones. Anne was nothing if not prepared.

“I’ve got a lot to go over with you today,” she said, her tone cheerful but purposeful. “But first, tea. You can’t work properly without tea.”

I laughed, setting my bag down on a chair. “You know me too well, Anne. What’s on the agenda today?”

She poured steaming tea into two mismatched mugs, handing one to me. “Oh, the usual chaos,” she said with a wink. “We’ve got that call with the publisher at ten, and later I want to brainstorm ideas for the next book. Oh, and Harry might pop by later—he said he had something he wanted to drop off.”

I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the tea. “Harry’s stopping by? Should I be preparing for something out of the ordinary?”

Anne laughed, her eyes twinkling. “You never know with him, do you? But for now, let’s get through these notes. Come on, take a seat.”

I settled into the chair opposite her, notebook in hand, ready to dive into the day’s work.

As Anne and I worked through her notes, my mind kept drifting back to what she had said earlier. Harry might pop by. I hadn’t met him yet—despite working with Anne for nearly a year now. He was always away, either on tour or traveling, and our paths had never crossed. But today might change that.

“Anne,” I said hesitantly, setting down my pen, “so… about Harry. I guess I’m a little nervous to meet him.”

Anne looked up from her notes, her expression warm and understanding. “Nervous? Oh, Y/N, you’ve nothing to be nervous about! He’s a sweetheart. Truly.”

“I’m sure he is,” I replied with a nervous laugh. “But, I mean, he’s Harry Styles. He’s this global superstar, and I’m just… me. What if I say something awkward? Or trip over my words?”

Anne chuckled, setting her glasses on the table and leaning back in her chair. “Y/N, you have nothing to worry about. Harry’s as down-to-earth as they come. He’s more likely to be the one tripping over his words than you are.”

Her reassurance made me smile, but there was something in her tone—something playful—that piqued my curiosity. Before I could dwell on it, Anne leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Actually,” she said, a little more thoughtfully, “I think it’s good you two are finally meeting. I’ve always thought you and Harry would get along wonderfully.”

I raised an eyebrow, my cheeks warming slightly. “You do?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, nodding with certainty. “You both have such similar energies—kind, thoughtful, creative. And you both love to laugh. I can already picture the two of you chatting away like old friends.”

I laughed nervously, unsure how to respond. “Well, I guess we’ll see. No pressure, right?”

Anne smiled knowingly, taking a sip of her tea. “No pressure at all, my dear. But sometimes, the best connections happen when you least expect them.”

Her words lingered in the air as we returned to our work, but my mind couldn’t help wandering. 

The day passed in a flurry of productivity. Anne and I tackled everything on the agenda—the publisher’s call went smoothly, the brainstorming session brought to life some fantastic ideas for her next book, and even the smallest tasks seemed to fall perfectly into place. By late afternoon, the papers on the kitchen table were neatly stacked, the mugs washed, and the scones just a crumb-filled memory.

As I started gathering my things to leave, Anne stopped me, her warm smile ever-present. “Y/N, don’t rush off just yet.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “Oh, I thought we were done for the day?”

“We are,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder, her tone gentle and inviting. “But Harry should be here soon, and I think it would be lovely if you stayed for dinner. I’ve already got everything prepped, and I promise it’s nothing fancy—just a good, home-cooked meal. Besides, you’ve worked so hard today, and I’d love the company.”

I hesitated, glancing at the time. “Are you sure, Anne? I don’t want to intrude.”

Anne shook her head firmly, her expression softening in a way that reminded me of my own mother. “Y/N, you’re not intruding. You’re family—more than just an assistant to me. I don’t say that lightly.” She gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Now, stay. Let me spoil you a little.”

Her words warmed my heart, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. Anne had always treated me with such kindness, but hearing her say it so plainly made me feel truly appreciated. “Okay,” I said, smiling. “I’d love to stay.”

“Good,” Anne said, beaming. “You can help me set the table. And don’t worry, you’ll love Harry. He’s just like me, only taller and a bit scruffier.”

I laughed, the nervous flutter in my stomach returning. The idea of meeting Harry still felt slightly surreal, but Anne’s confidence that we’d get along eased my nerves—at least a little.

Together, we walked back to the house, chatting about everything from her garden to potential titles for her next book. Anne’s warmth and humor made the transition from work mode to relaxation seamless, and by the time we reached the cottage, I was already feeling at home.

As we stepped inside, Anne gestured toward the dining table. “You start on the plates, and I’ll grab the drinks. Harry should be here any minute now.”

I nodded, moving to set the table as instructed, but I couldn’t help the little flicker of excitement—and anxiety—that danced in my chest. 

Moments later, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, followed by a familiar voice calling out.

“Mum? I’m here!” Harry’s voice carried easily, warm and slightly teasing.

Anne, busy at the counter pouring drinks, shouted back, “In the kitchen, love!”

I froze mid-step, clutching a plate in my hands. My pulse quickened as the reality of meeting Harry—Anne’s son and global superstar—hit me square in the chest. A part of me wanted to disappear into the background, but before I could even think to move, the sound of footsteps approached.

Then, there he was. Harry walked into the kitchen, his casual stride and easy grin instantly lighting up the room. He was dressed simply—jeans, a T-shirt, and a beanie pulled snugly over his brown curls—but his presence was anything but ordinary. His green eyes scanned the room before landing on me.

He stopped, his smile widening with playful confusion. “Well, you’re definitely not my mum.”

I blinked, caught off guard, before laughing nervously. “No, no, definitely not.”

Anne turned from the counter, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Y/N, meet my son, Harry. Harry, this is Y/N—my assistant, though I prefer to call her my second daughter.”

Harry’s expression softened, and he stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Mum’s told me loads about you.”

I set the plate down carefully before shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too. She’s told me a lot about you as well.”

He raised an eyebrow, a glint of humor in his eyes. “All good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” I replied, feeling my nerves ease slightly under the weight of his charm. “She’s very proud of you.”

Harry shot Anne a look, his smile turning fond. “She’s not bad herself, is she?” Turning back to me, he added, “So, you’re the one keeping her so organized. Must be a full-time job.”

“It is,” I said with a small laugh. “But I love it.”

Anne interjected, carrying the drinks to the table. “All right, enough chatter. Harry, help Y/N finish setting the table. And no teasing—you’ll scare her off.”

Harry chuckled, grabbing a stack of silverware. “Scare her off? I’m charming, Mum.”

Anne gave him a knowing look but didn’t argue. As Harry handed me the silverware, his smile was soft, his teasing replaced by genuine warmth.

“Don’t let her boss you around too much,” he joked quietly, leaning in just enough for only me to hear. “But I’ll warn you, she’s usually right.”

As we worked together to set the table, Harry struck up a conversation, his natural curiosity evident in the way he asked questions.

“So, Y/N,” he began, placing the silverware neatly beside the plates, “Mum says you’ve been working with her for about a year now. But I’m curious—how’d you end up here? Not many people just casually relocate to the middle of England.”

I smiled, stacking the napkins as I spoke. “Well, I’m originally from New York, but I came to England a few years ago to study abroad. It was supposed to be temporary, but I ended up falling in love with the country. Anne and I met while I was finishing up my studies, and things just kind of fell into place.”

“New York to England, huh?” he said, his tone thoughtful. “That’s quite a leap. What made you want to stay? Was it the tea, the rain, or Mum’s scones?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Definitely not the rain. But honestly, I think it was the pace of life here. It’s different from New York—slower, in a good way. Plus, I felt like I’d found a second home when I started working with Anne. She’s been amazing.”

Harry glanced over at his mum, who was busy fiddling with the oven, her back turned to us. His expression softened. “Yeah, she has a way of making people feel that way, doesn’t she?”

“She really does,” I agreed, my voice warm. “She’s been more than a boss to me—more like family.”

Harry smiled, leaning casually against the edge of the table. “That sounds like her. She’s always taking people under her wing. So, what were you studying before you decided to make the big move?”

“English literature,” I said, straightening one of the forks. “I’ve always loved books and writing, so it just felt like the right path. Meeting Anne was kind of serendipitous. She needed an assistant around the same time I was trying to figure out what to do next, and the rest is history.”

Harry nodded, his interest clearly genuine. “That’s brilliant. Sounds like it was meant to be. And now you’re here, working with Mum, dealing with her endless sticky notes and brainstorm sessions. She ever drag you out to the garden for ‘creative inspiration’?”

I chuckled, nodding. “Oh, plenty of times. But I don’t mind—it’s always an adventure with her.”

Harry’s grin widened. “I can imagine. And do you still write yourself, or is it all Mum’s projects now?”

The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated for a moment. “I try to write when I can, but it’s mostly little things—nothing serious.”

“Well,” he said, his tone encouraging, “maybe one day I’ll get to read something of yours. If Mum’s spoken this highly of you, I bet it’s brilliant.”

His compliment made my cheeks flush slightly, but I managed a smile. “Maybe. But for now, I’m happy helping her bring her stories to life.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But don’t forget about your own stories, yeah? Something tells me they’re worth sharing.”

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, but before I could respond, Anne interrupted, calling us to the table.

“All right, you two, enough chatter! Dinner’s ready. Harry, stop hogging Y/N’s attention and help me bring the dishes out.”

Harry smirked but obeyed, shooting me a quick wink as he moved to help his mum. “Guess that’s my cue,” he said, grabbing the serving tray. “But I’m not done with my questions, Y/N. Consider this round one.”

I laughed softly, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement as I took my seat at the table. Round one, huh? This evening was shaping up to be much more interesting than I’d anticipated.

As Harry walked toward the kitchen to help his mom, I began fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of me, still processing our earlier conversation. His natural charm and easygoing nature made him surprisingly approachable, and yet I couldn’t shake the nervous flutter in my stomach.

I was just settling into my seat when I heard his voice drift from the kitchen. It wasn’t loud, but the playful tone caught my attention.

“Mum,” he said, his voice carrying just enough for me to overhear, “you forgot to mention how pretty she is.”

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My heart began to race as I tried to process what I’d just heard. Was he talking about me? It was hard to mistake the sincerity in his tone, even laced as it was with a hint of teasing.

Anne chuckled in response, her reply warm but matter-of-fact. “I didn’t think I needed to, love. I figured you’d see that for yourself.”

The sound of clinking dishes followed, but I couldn’t focus on anything else. My cheeks grew hot as I stared at the table, trying to act like I hadn’t heard a word.

What did that even mean? Was he just being nice? Or was there something more to his comment? The idea made my chest tighten, equal parts flattered and overwhelmed.

Moments later, Harry and Anne returned to the dining room, each carrying a dish. His expression was as casual and easy as ever, as if he hadn’t just said something that was now on a loop in my head. He caught my gaze briefly as he set down a bowl of roasted vegetables, flashing me a small, almost knowing smile before turning back to his mom.

“Right, all set?” Anne asked cheerfully, glancing between the two of us as she placed the final dish on the table. “Let’s dig in!”

I forced myself to smile, hoping it didn’t look too forced. “Smells amazing, Anne. Thank you.”

As dinner began, Harry struck up conversation again, his questions lighthearted and easy, but I couldn’t help noticing the occasional glance he sent my way. Maybe it was nothing—or maybe Anne had been right all along. Whatever it was, one thing was certain: this evening was turning out to be far more eventful than I had expected.

After everyone had eaten their fill and the plates were cleared, I stood to help Anne gather the dishes, but she waved me off with a smile.

“Sit and relax, Y/N. You’ve done enough today,” she said warmly. “But if Harry’s volunteering, I won’t say no to an extra pair of hands.”

“I’ll help too,” I insisted, ignoring her gentle protest as I followed Harry to the kitchen with a stack of plates.

Harry grabbed a dish towel, tossing it over his shoulder as he started rinsing the dishes. He glanced at me with a grin. “Looks like it’s just us now. I’ll try not to scare you off with my terrible washing-up skills.”

I laughed, rolling up my sleeves. “Don’t worry—I’m no professional either.”

As we worked side by side, the atmosphere felt lighter, more relaxed. Harry, ever curious, turned to me with a playful tilt of his head. “So, Y/N, I feel like I barely scratched the surface earlier. Let’s dig a little deeper. Do you have any pets?”

I smiled, handing him a clean plate to dry. “No pets, unfortunately. Growing up in New York, we didn’t really have the space for them. But I’ve always wanted a dog. What about you?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Mum’s got a cat—Dusty. Though I think she likes Dusty more than me most days.”

I laughed at his self-deprecating humor. “I doubt that. Anne talks about you like you’re her pride and joy.”

“Good to know I’m still in her good books,” he teased, then shifted gears. “Okay, next question. Favorite movie?”

I bit my lip, thinking it over. “That’s a tough one. Probably Pride and Prejudice—the Keira Knightley version. I’ve seen it a hundred times, and it still makes me swoon. What about you?”

Harry pretended to look thoughtful. “Hmm, Pride and Prejudice is solid, but I might have to go with The Notebook. Classic romantic drama.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Am I?” he said with a playful wink, taking another dish from my hands. “Okay, next one: Favorite bar in London?”

“That’s easy,” I said, sliding another plate toward him. “The Churchill Arms. It’s so cozy and covered in flowers—it’s like stepping into a storybook. What about you?”

“Great choice,” he said, nodding approvingly. “For me, it’s The Spaniards Inn. Proper old-school vibe and great music.”

“I’ll have to check it out sometime,” I said, filing the recommendation away.

He paused, glancing over at me with a curious glint in his eye. “I could show you, if you’re up for it. You know, give you the full Harry Styles bar tour.”

The suggestion caught me off guard, but his smile was so genuine, it was impossible not to mirror it. “Maybe,” I said, trying to sound casual despite the warmth spreading in my chest. “If I can keep up.”

“Oh, I think you’ll manage,” he replied, his voice light and teasing as he placed the last clean plate on the rack. “But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet. I’ve got plenty more questions.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Something tells me you’re not going to run out anytime soon.”

“Not a chance,” he said, his smile widening as he grabbed the dish towel to dry his hands. “You’re far too interesting for that.”

As the evening wound down, the cozy energy of Anne’s home lingered in the air. Harry leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, chatting with his mom while I finished drying the last of the dishes. His laugh filled the kitchen, warm and effortless, and I couldn’t help but glance his way more often than necessary.

But soon, it was time to leave. Harry had to fly out the next morning to start recording for his next project, and I knew my days ahead would be busy helping Anne finalize the manuscript for her latest book. It felt bittersweet—our paths had just crossed, and yet, they were already diverging.

As I grabbed my coat from the hook near the door, Harry walked over, slipping his hands into his pockets. “So,” he began, his voice casual but his eyes searching mine, “looks like it’ll be a bit before we see each other again.”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, sounds like you’ll be busy.”

“Same for you,” he said, tilting his head. “Mum keeps you running around, doesn’t she?”

I chuckled. “She does, but I don’t mind. She’s worth it.”

Harry’s smile turned a little softer at that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Well, seeing as I’m about to disappear for a while, how about we exchange numbers? Just in case Mum ‘accidentally’ forgets to pass along messages.”

The suggestion caught me off guard, but I quickly recovered, pulling out my phone. “Sure,” I said, feeling a flutter of nerves as we traded numbers. His fingers brushed mine briefly as he handed my phone back, and I wondered if he felt the same quiet spark.

“Now you’ve got no excuse not to check out The Spaniards Inn,” he joked, his voice light but his eyes holding something a little more serious.

“Guess I don’t,” I said, smiling.

Anne appeared then, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “All right, you two, no plotting mischief without me,” she teased. “Harry, don’t keep Y/N standing here all night—she’s got work in the morning.”

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “All right, all right. I’ll let her go. For now.”

We said our goodbyes, and as I walked out to my car, I couldn’t help but glance back. Harry stood in the doorway with Anne, waving, his easy smile still lingering even as I pulled away.

Weeks turned into months, and the holiday season crept closer. Between Anne’s projects and the quiet hum of my own life, I found myself thinking of Harry more than I cared to admit. We’d exchanged a few texts here and there—mostly casual check-ins or jokes—but nothing too deep. Still, every time my phone lit up with his name, it brought a smile to my face.

Then came Anne’s annual Christmas party. The cottage was aglow with warm lights, garlands, and a massive tree Anne had insisted on decorating herself. Guests milled about with glasses of mulled wine, laughter and conversation filling every corner.

I was in the kitchen, helping Anne plate some hors d'oeuvres, when a familiar voice made my heart skip.

“Surprise,” Harry said, leaning casually against the doorway, his signature grin firmly in place.

I turned, my breath catching slightly. He looked effortlessly stylish, dressed in a festive green sweater and black trousers, his hair tousled as though he hadn’t tried at all. “Harry,” I said, smiling. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted, stepping further into the kitchen. “But I couldn’t miss Mum’s party—or the chance to see you again.”

Anne smirked knowingly, handing me the last platter before excusing herself with a suspiciously cheerful “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

I rolled my eyes at her retreating figure but couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading through me. “So,” I said, turning back to Harry, “how’s recording going?”

“It’s good,” he said, his voice softening. “Busy, but good. Though I’ll admit, I’ve been looking forward to this party for weeks.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Because of the mulled wine?”

He grinned, his eyes meeting mine. “Something like that. But mostly because I knew you’d be here.”

The sincerity in his tone made my heart flip. I wasn’t sure what to say, but before I could respond, he gestured toward the door. “Shall we? I think Mum would kill me if I didn’t mingle.”

The party buzzed around us, but Harry and I had found a quieter corner of the living room, where the lights from the Christmas tree cast a soft glow. He handed me a glass of red wine, his fingers brushing mine briefly, and leaned casually against the wall beside me.

“So,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, “tell me—what’s been the highlight of your year? And if you say one of Mum’s scone-baking experiments, I’ll know you’re lying.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, those have been a journey, but I think meeting her in the first place takes the top spot. It’s been a whirlwind, but a good one.”

He smiled, his gaze warm. “That’s a solid choice. I’d say meeting you is up there on my list too.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the subtle sincerity in his voice, but before I could respond, Gemma’s voice rang out across the room.

“Oi, Harry!” she called, her tone dripping with playful mischief. “Do you two know you’re standing under the mistletoe?”

My eyes shot upward instinctively, and sure enough, the little sprig of green was hanging above us, tied neatly with a red ribbon. My cheeks flushed as laughter rippled through the room. I turned back to Harry, who had the audacity to look completely shocked.

“Mistletoe?” he said, feigning innocence as his eyes darted upward. “Would you look at that? What a coincidence.”

I narrowed my eyes, catching the faintest flicker of amusement in his expression. “Coincidence, huh?” I asked, my tone skeptical.

Gemma smirked from across the room. “Well, rules are rules!”

The guests around us were clearly entertained, their chatter fading into encouraging murmurs. Harry turned back to me, his grin widening as he leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

“Guess we’ve got to follow tradition,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze steady. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint everyone.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart pounding as he leaned closer. His lips brushed mine softly, the warmth of the moment washing over me despite the playful shouts and applause in the background. It was sweet, unhurried, and—dare I say—perfect.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in full force, but there was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas,” I managed, my cheeks still flushed as the room erupted in laughter and cheers. Gemma gave us a knowing look, and Anne, from the kitchen, was clearly trying not to look too pleased with herself.

As the night went on, the party blurred into a haze of warmth and laughter, but that moment under the mistletoe stayed crystal clear in my mind. 

The party continued, the festive atmosphere filling every corner of Anne’s home, but I couldn’t shake the giddy feeling in my chest. Every so often, I’d catch Harry glancing my way, and each time, his warm smile made my heart skip a beat. It felt as if the mistletoe moment had shifted something between us—something unspoken but undeniably present.

After the laughter and teasing died down, Harry and I found ourselves back in the cozy corner of the living room, wine glasses in hand. This time, the conversation felt lighter, more natural, as if the small barrier of formality had finally fallen away.

“So,” I teased, swirling my glass, “did you actually plan that mistletoe stunt, or was it pure luck?”

Harry smirked, not even bothering to deny it. “What can I say? I might have noticed where Mum hung it earlier and thought it’d be a good spot to stand. But in my defense,” he added, leaning in slightly, “I wasn’t sure you’d go along with it.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink, his grin softening as he studied me. “But honestly, I’m glad it happened. I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you.”

His words caught me off guard, and I found myself searching his expression for any sign of teasing, but there was none—just quiet sincerity. “You have?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

“Of course,” he said, his tone genuine. “You’re… well, you’re amazing. Mum’s always going on about how much she adores you, and honestly, I get it. You’ve got this way about you—calm, funny, kind. It’s refreshing.”

I felt my cheeks heat under his gaze, unsure of how to respond. “Harry, that’s… really sweet of you to say.”

He shrugged, his smile turning a little sheepish. “Just being honest. And, well, I guess I should probably thank Mum for hiring you and convincing you to stay in England.”

I laughed softly, the nerves I’d felt earlier slowly fading. “She is very persuasive.”

“Isn’t she?” he said, laughing along. “So, what about you? Are you glad you stayed?”

I took a moment to think about his question, the warmth of the room and the sound of soft music in the background making the moment feel surreal. “I am,” I said finally, meeting his eyes. “I’ve built a life here I never expected, and it’s been… wonderful.”

Harry’s gaze softened, his smile easy but full of something deeper. “I’m glad to hear that. And, for what it’s worth, I hope I can be part of what makes it even better.”

Before I could respond, Anne appeared, beaming as she handed us a tray of leftover mince pies. “You two look cozy,” she said with a knowing smile, clearly pleased with herself. “Don’t let me interrupt, but someone has to make sure these don’t go uneaten.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said, chuckling as he took the tray. As Anne walked away, he turned back to me, his smile lingering. “What do you say? Mince pie and more conversation?”

I nodded, feeling my heart flutter again. “I’d like that.”

And as the night wore on, surrounded by laughter and the glow of Christmas lights, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something special.

Guests filtered out one by one, their laughter and goodbyes echoing softly through Anne’s cozy home. I slipped into the hallway to grab my coat, the frosty chill of the night visible through the windows. Snow was falling in gentle flurries, blanketing the ground in a soft, sparkling white.

“Thanks for everything, Anne,” I said, hugging her tightly. “The party was wonderful, as always.”

Anne smiled, her arms warm and motherly around me. “It’s not the same without you, my dear. Stay safe getting home, all right?”

“I will,” I promised. “I’ll call an Uber.”

Before I could pull out my phone, Harry appeared, shrugging on his own coat. “Don’t bother with an Uber,” he said, his voice casual but insistent. “I’ll drive you.”

“Harry, you don’t have to do that,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s late, and it’s snowing—”

“All the more reason not to let you sit around waiting for a car,” he cut in, flashing me that easy smile. “Come on. Let me play chauffeur.”

Anne smirked knowingly from the doorway, but she said nothing, simply waving us off with a cheerful “Drive safe, you two!”

The snowflakes danced in the headlights as we drove through the quiet streets. The world outside felt still, the kind of calm that only came with late winter nights. Harry hummed softly along to the radio, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

“So,” he said after a moment, glancing over at me, “did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” I admitted, smiling. “Your mum really knows how to throw a party.”

“She does,” he agreed, grinning. “But I think the mistletoe was her favorite part.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m sure it was.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. Then, as we turned a corner, Harry suddenly slowed the car, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“That’s it,” he said, pointing to a warmly lit building just ahead. “That’s the bar I told you about—the one I wanted to take you to.”

I followed his gaze, taking in the charming old-fashioned pub with its twinkling lights and ivy-covered sign. “It looks amazing.”

“Good,” he said, shifting the car into park. “Because we’re making a pit stop.”

I blinked in surprise. “What? Now?”

“Now,” he said firmly, already unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned to me with a playful grin. “Come on. You’re not getting out of this one.”

Before I could protest, he was out of the car, circling around to my side to open the door. The cold air rushed in, but his outstretched hand and infectious enthusiasm warmed me more than my coat ever could. Smiling, I took his hand, letting him help me out of the car.

The snow crunched softly beneath our feet as Harry led me to the pub’s entrance. The wooden door creaked open, revealing a cozy interior filled with warm lighting, laughter, and the soft hum of music. He held the door for me, his eyes sparkling as he followed me inside.

“This,” he said as we found a quiet corner table, “is one of my favorite spots in the city. Figured it was about time I shared it with you.”

I smiled, taking in the quaint charm of the bar. “I’m glad you did.”

Harry leaned back, his grin softening as he looked at me. “So am I. Now, what are we drinking?”

I glanced at the menu briefly before setting it down with a grin. “I’ll start with a shot of Fireball,” I said, glancing at Harry for his reaction.

He raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Straight to Fireball, huh? You’re full of surprises.”

“What can I say? It’s festive,” I replied with a shrug. “What about you?”

“I’ll take a whiskey neat,” he said, flagging down the bartender.

As our drinks arrived, I picked up the small glass, holding it up in a toast. “To impromptu pit stops and good company.”

Harry clinked his glass against mine, his smile warm. “To that.”

I knocked back the shot, the cinnamon burn spreading warmly through my chest. Harry watched, clearly amused, before sipping his own drink. The atmosphere in the bar was cozy and alive, the soft murmur of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter adding to the charm.

After a few moments of quiet, Harry set his glass down, his fingers fidgeting with the rim. “Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now, “I owe you an apology.”

I tilted my head, surprised. “For what?”

“For not texting much while I was recording,” he said, meeting my gaze. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. Quite the opposite, actually.”

I stayed silent, giving him space to continue.

“It’s just… I felt drawn to you, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” he admitted, his voice softer. “I didn’t want to make things harder for either of us if I couldn’t be around, or if our schedules didn’t line up. It felt unfair to pull you into something when I couldn’t guarantee how often we’d see each other.”

His honesty caught me off guard, but in the best way. I leaned forward slightly, my elbows resting on the table. “Harry, I get it. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and it’s not like I expect constant texts or updates. But… I appreciate you telling me that.”

He let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing. “I just didn’t want you to think I wasn’t interested. Because I am. Very much.”

My cheeks warmed, and I took another sip of my drink to buy myself a moment. “Well, for what it’s worth, I thought about you too. A lot.”

His smile returned, soft and genuine, as he leaned forward. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing softly. “I just didn’t know if it was mutual or if I was imagining things.”

“You weren’t,” he said, his voice steady. “Not even for a second.”

The weight of his words settled between us, the unspoken feelings finally taking shape. The noise of the bar faded into the background as we held each other’s gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Good,” I said finally, breaking the silence with a small smile. “Because I’m not imagining this either—this pit stop? Definitely worth it.”

He chuckled, raising his glass to me again. “Here’s to more pit stops, then.”

I clinked my glass against his, the warmth of the moment spreading through me.

Harry waved down the bartender and ordered himself one more drink, a smile playing on his lips as he looked over at me. “You go ahead, though—order another if you want. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

His words, coupled with the warmth in his voice, made me feel completely at ease. I grinned, raising my hand to flag the bartender. “All right, two more for me, then.”

As we chatted and finished our drinks, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Harry’s wit and charm kept me laughing, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so at ease with someone. When the bartender cleared away the empty glasses, Harry glanced at me with a teasing grin.

“Ready to call it a night, or do you want to take over the jukebox and turn this into a dance party?” he joked.

I laughed, shaking my head. “As tempting as that is, I think I’m ready to head home.”

He stood, offering his hand to help me up. “Then let’s get you back.”

The snow had lightened as we drove through the quiet streets, but it still sparkled in the streetlights, blanketing everything in a serene white glow. I leaned back in my seat, the warmth of the car lulling me into a calm state as I watched Harry. He looked focused yet relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested casually on his lap.

After a moment, as if sensing my gaze, he reached over and placed a hand on my thigh. The gesture was simple, but it sent a warm jolt through me, grounding me in the moment. His touch was light, reassuring, and yet it carried a weight that made my heart race.

I looked at him, smiling softly. “You know, you’re really beautiful.”

He turned to glance at me briefly, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Beautiful, huh? Don’t let the lads hear you say that—they’ll never let me live it down.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m serious. You are. Inside and out.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against my leg in an almost absentminded motion. “Thanks, love. But you should know—it’s not every day I get called ‘beautiful.’ Pretty, maybe. Gorgeous, occasionally. But beautiful? That’s new.”

I laughed again, warmth blooming in my chest. “Well, you should hear it more often.”

He glanced at me again, his eyes soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite place. “I think I like hearing it from you the most.”

The car fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the faint crackle of snow beneath the tires. I found myself wishing the drive could stretch on forever, the intimacy of the moment something I didn’t want to let go of. 

When Harry pulled the car into the small lot outside my flat, he turned off the engine and stepped out, circling around to open my door before I could even reach for the handle. His gentlemanly gesture brought a small smile to my lips as I stepped out, the cold night air brushing against my cheeks.

“I’ll walk you up,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“You really don’t have to,” I started, but he shook his head, giving me a pointed look.

“Not up for debate,” he said, his grin softening any potential protest. “Come on.”

We walked together toward the building, the snow crunching softly beneath our feet. The tipsy warmth in my chest made everything feel slightly dreamlike—the glow of the streetlights, the way Harry’s shoulder brushed against mine, the sound of his laugh when I nearly slipped on a patch of ice but caught myself.

When we reached my door, I turned to thank him, but he stepped closer, his expression both amused and fond. “You’ve got a little something,” he said, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, his touch soft and deliberate.

The simple gesture made my heart flutter, and he noticed. His grin turned playful. “Still feeling a little tipsy, are we?”

“A little,” I admitted with a laugh, leaning back against the door for balance. “But I’m good. Thanks for making sure I got home.”

“Well, someone had to,” he teased, his voice light but his gaze steady. Then, after a pause, his tone softened. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.”

“Me too,” I said, my voice quieter now.

Harry stepped just a fraction closer, his hands resting lightly in his pockets. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping a little lower, “I’ve been thinking about that kiss earlier. I’d really like to kiss you again.”

His words sent a thrill through me, and without even stopping to think, I reached for his jacket, pulling him toward me. His hands instinctively found my waist, steadying me as I leaned up and pressed my lips to his.

This kiss wasn’t like the one under the mistletoe—this one was deeper, more purposeful. His lips moved with mine, warm and unhurried, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The cold air, the snow, the late hour—none of it mattered.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested lightly against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his voice laced with both amusement and something deeper.

I smiled, my cheeks flushed from more than just the cold. “Goodnight, Harry,” I whispered, unlocking my door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his tone soft and lingering.

When I woke up the next morning, the soft light of a snowy winter day filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. My head felt light—not from drinking too much, but from the events of the night before. As I stretched and reached for my phone on the bedside table, a small smile spread across my face when I saw a text from Harry.

Harry: Morning, love. What are you doing for Christmas? Are you seeing your family?

I stared at the screen for a moment, my chest tightening slightly. My family was back in the States, and with everything going on, traveling wasn’t an option this year. I had already come to terms with spending Christmas alone. It wasn’t ideal, but it was fine—I’d planned a quiet day at home.

I typed out a response, my fingers hesitating briefly before hitting send.

Y/N: Good morning ☺️ No big plans—just staying home this year. My family’s in America, so it’ll be a solo Christmas. But I don’t mind.

Setting the phone down, I shuffled out of bed to start my morning routine. By the time I returned, Harry had replied.

Harry: Home alone? That doesn’t sit right with me. Come to ours—Mum would love to have you, and so would I.

The offer tugged at something in me, his kindness shining through even in a text. But as much as the idea of being surrounded by his family sounded wonderful, I didn’t want to intrude. Christmas was their time to be together, and I didn’t want to take away from that.

Y/N: That’s really sweet of you, but you should spend Christmas with your family. It’s their day with you, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt. I’ll be okay, I promise.

His response came quickly, and I could almost hear the concern in his tone.

Harry: You wouldn’t be interrupting. You’re part of the family now, you know.

I smiled at his words, warmth spreading through me, but I stayed firm in my decision.

Y/N: You’re lovely, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for the offer, though—it means a lot.

Harry: If you’re sure… but I’m still not entirely convinced you’re okay with it.

His care made my chest tighten, but I knew this was the right choice.

Y/N: I promise, I’m okay. Have a wonderful Christmas with your family.

As I set my phone down, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, knowing someone cared enough to ask. While Christmas would be quiet this year, the warmth from Harry’s offer lingered, making me feel less alone than I’d expected.

The day passed slowly, but pleasantly. I spent the morning baking cookies, letting the warm, sweet scent fill my flat. It was cozy, and for a while, I didn’t mind being alone. After tasting one (or three) cookies to make sure they turned out right, I curled up on the couch for a nap, letting the peaceful quiet of the day lull me to sleep.

When I woke, the snow outside had thickened, blanketing the world in a soft white hush. I made myself a cup of hot chocolate, grabbed a blanket, and put on a Christmas movie, letting the cheerful music and festive scenes brighten my evening.

I was halfway through the film, laughing softly at the antics on screen, when a sudden knock at the door startled me. My brow furrowed in confusion. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and my neighbors rarely stopped by unannounced.

I set down my mug, tightened the blanket around me, and went to the door. When I opened it, my mouth fell open in surprise. There, standing on my snowy doorstep, was Harry, grinning mischievously, a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he said, his tone light. “Santa’s here, and he’s traded in the sleigh for a Mini Cooper.”

I blinked, too stunned to respond at first. Finally, I laughed, shaking my head. “Harry, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with your family.”

He shrugged, his grin softening into something warmer. “I was. But it didn’t feel quite right, knowing you were here alone. So, I figured Santa could make one more stop.”

My heart swelled at his words, and I stepped aside to let him in, the cold air rushing in briefly before I closed the door behind him. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” I said, smiling.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” he teased, slipping off his coat and placing the bag on the counter. “I brought some things—thought we could make Christmas a little less solo.”

I glanced at the bag, curious. “What’s in there?”

“Just a few essentials,” he said with mock seriousness, pulling out a bottle of wine, a small box wrapped in festive paper, and a Tupperware container. “Cookies from Mum. She insisted.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I watched him. “You really didn’t have to do this, Harry.”

“I know,” he said, meeting my eyes. “But I wanted to.”

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten, and I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the cookies or the hot chocolate. Christmas, it seemed, had just gotten a whole lot better.

As Harry set the bag down on the counter, he pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box and handed it to me. The paper was simple but elegant, with a festive bow on top, and it made my heart flutter.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking between the gift and him, my brow furrowing in surprise. “Harry, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

He grinned, leaning casually against the counter. “I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. Go on—open it.”

I hesitated for a moment, my fingers brushing over the smooth wrapping paper. With a small smile, I carefully tore it open, revealing a beautiful hardback book with an embossed cover. My breath caught as I realized what it was.

A special edition of The Great Gatsby.

The gilded details on the cover shimmered in the soft light, and the pages had the kind of crispness that only came with a brand-new book. I traced the cover with my fingertips, momentarily speechless.

“You… remembered,” I said softly, looking up at him. “This is incredible, Harry.”

He smiled, his eyes warm and slightly amused. “Of course, I remembered. You told me it was your favorite. Plus, you lit up when you talked about it that night at Mum’s party. I figured it might be something you’d like.”

“Like?” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “I love it. This is… it’s perfect.”

Harry shrugged, though the grin on his face told me he was pleased. “Good. I wasn’t sure if you already had this edition, but I figured even if you did, a backup wouldn’t hurt.”

I hugged the book to my chest, still marveling at the thoughtfulness behind the gift. “Thank you, Harry. Really. This means so much.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening. “You’re welcome, love. Merry Christmas.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the cozy warmth of the room and the quiet snowfall outside wrapping around us like a blanket. I couldn’t help but feel that, somehow, this was exactly where I was meant to be.

I clutched The Great Gatsby to my chest, still basking in the warmth of Harry’s thoughtful gift, but a pang of guilt crept in as I realized I hadn’t gotten him anything in return.

“Harry,” I said, biting my lip. “This is so thoughtful, and I feel terrible—I didn’t get you anything.”

He shook his head, his grin easy and reassuring. “You don’t have to give me anything, Y/N. Seeing you smile like that is enough.”

Still, I wanted to do something for him, no matter how small. My eyes lit up as I remembered the cookies I’d made earlier. “Wait! I do have something.” I rushed over to the kitchen counter, grabbing the plate of freshly baked cookies. “Okay, maybe it’s not as fancy as a special edition book, but these are homemade, and I promise they’re pretty good.”

Harry’s eyes lit up as he took one from the plate. “Homemade cookies? Now, this is a proper Christmas gift.”

He bit into one, his expression immediately shifting into mock seriousness before he let out a low, exaggerated moan. “Oh, my God,” he said around the bite. “Y/N, this is… ridiculous. These are so good.”

I laughed, watching his dramatic reaction. “Are you being serious, or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

He swallowed the bite and held up the cookie like it was a rare treasure. “Dead serious. These are unreal. You’ve been hiding this talent from me? What else are you secretly amazing at?”

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop smiling. “They’re just cookies, Harry.”

“No, no,” he said, grabbing another one. “These aren’t just cookies. These are a masterpiece. Like, I’m calling Mum tomorrow and telling her to step up her game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh again, his infectious humor and over-the-top enthusiasm making the moment feel so much lighter. “Well, I’m glad you like them,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll have to bake more if it means getting this kind of reaction out of you.”

Harry grinned, crumbs on his lips as he reached for yet another cookie. “Deal. But fair warning—I might show up at your door every time I get a craving now.”

“Good,” I said, surprising myself with the ease of my response. “You’re welcome anytime.”

He paused, his grin softening into something more genuine as he looked at me. “I might just take you up on that.”

The way he said it made my chest tighten in the best way, and as we stood there, sharing cookies and laughter, I couldn’t help but think that this Christmas, though unexpected, was quickly becoming one of my favorites.

As we stood there, the room cozy and filled with the faint smell of cookies, my eyes wandered to Harry. His sweater sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, leaving his tattoos exposed, a striking contrast to the softness of the moment. The intricate designs on his arms seemed even more captivating in the warm light of the flat, and I couldn’t help but notice the way they moved slightly as he reached for another cookie.

I felt a wave of warmth rush through me, one that had nothing to do with the heat of the oven still lingering in the air. My gaze flicked to his face, his lips curved into an easy smile as he chewed, oblivious to the way he had completely stolen my attention. Something about him—the way he looked at me, the way he was simply here—felt too perfect to ignore.

Before I could overthink it, I leaned forward, lightly pressing my lips to his. It was soft, almost tentative, but enough to make my heart race.

Harry froze for just a moment, clearly caught off guard, before he set the cookie down and reached for me, his hands resting gently on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss with a passion that made my knees feel weak. His lips moved with mine, slow yet deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second.

When we finally broke apart, I stayed close, my forehead resting lightly against his. His green eyes searched mine, his expression soft but tinged with a flicker of something playful.

“What are your plans for New Year’s?” he asked, his voice low and warm, his breath still mingling with mine.

The question caught me off guard, but I managed a small smile. “Nothing planned yet,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”

He grinned, his fingers brushing lightly against my sides. “Because I think we should make some cookies. Together.”

I felt my heart skip a beat, the thought of spending New Year’s with him lighting up something inside me I hadn’t expected. “I think I’d like that,” I said, my voice steady despite the nervous excitement building in my chest.

His grin softened, turning into something more sincere. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

[freedomfireflies]

Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister Masterlist

Famous!Harry x You

*This story contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister (Pt. 1)

You and Harry wake up after a wild, drunken night to find out you're more than strangers. You're married.

~ That's Daddy to You (Pt. 2)

You and Harry agree to stay married for a couple months until the press blows over.

~ Ask Me Nicely* (Pt. 3)

Harry happens to like being your good boy.

~ And They Were Roommates (Pt. 4)

You and Harry agree to live together. At least until you kill him.

~ A Losing Game* (Pt. 5)

You and Harry have agreed not to sleep together again. But maybe you need to remind him what he's missing.

~ Mrs. Harry Styles* (Pt. 6)

Turns out, Harry might be a terrible husband, but he sure can fuck.

~ Unbearable (Pt. 7)

You finally tell your best friend that you and Harry got married as a mistake. But maybe it doesn't feel like a mistake anymore...

~ Maybe (Pt. 8)

You and Harry decide that it might be time for a divorce.

~ Sign Here (Pt. 9 - Final)

Or maybe...being Harry's wife isn't so bad after all.

Check In:

~ You and Harry Are Having a Baby

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

���——

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

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@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[harrywavycurly]

I just know Lonely Harry is so nosey when it comes to what his fiancé and Niall talk about especially if it’s wedding related😂

Hiii babes!!! Oh you know he is sooooo nosey he can’t even help himself! The thing is he’s ALWAYS been kinda nosey when it comes to you and Niall and what the hell y’all two talk about and the weird things/trouble the two of you manage to get into you when together because you two are what Harry oh so lovingly calls the “dysfunctional duo” and have been ride or die besties just as long as you and Harry have!

So I’ll happily give you some little examples of Harry being nosey and also getting caught trying to be nosey when you’re with Niall talking about wedding stuff/ just hanging out😂💖

-find all things for the Lonely series here✨

A/N: Harry is a a naturally very nosey man but when he knows you’re in the house talking to Niall he can’t help himself, he just wants to know what the two of you are talking about and if it has anything to do with him👀✨

Example One: Dress Details

“You think it’s going to look weird with that much of it touching the ground? That’s not tacky looking or anything? I was thinking maybe getting it shortened just a smidge?” Niall shoots you a look that makes you let out a huff as you reach over to the coffee table and grab your glass of wine. “I just don’t want it to get all dirty and gross on the bottom from dancing and stuff.” You explain as you bring the glass to your lips so you can take a sip while Niall just rolls his eyes as he places his beer down on the table.

“You have a bloody reception dress ya knob so your actual gown won’t be gettin all dirty and shit because you’re wearing it for what? An hour at the max? Maybe two if you include the time it takes for photos?” Harry knows he shouldn’t be listening, he knows for a fact if you turn your head and see him just standing off to the side of the living room near the kitchen casually stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth that you’d probably let Niall jump over the back of the couch and tackle him to the ground and he’d deserve it.

He knows you don’t want him to know any details about your dress, but technically you two haven’t spilled any details about the dress minus the fact you don’t want to get the bottom of it dirty letting Harry know the dress is floor length but that was sort of a given because he knows you’d never wear anything above mid calf during the actual ceremony. He also was already let in on the fact you’d be changing into a different dress for the reception because you wanted a dress you felt more comfortable dancing in and one you’re not too worried about getting ruined if it gets wine or food spilled on it throughout the evening. While he might not know any details of what that dress looks like minus that it still fits the overall theme and vibe of the wedding as whole he can assume it’s not floor length because you’ve never been one to find those comfortable for dancing.

“Oh that’s right I forgot about that dress.” You laugh as Niall leans in closer to you so he can get a better look at the gown on your phone screen and Harry so badly wants to take a few steps further into the living room but he doesn’t, he just stays where he’s at and tries his hardest to be as quiet as possible in hopes of hearing something a little more juicy. “You think Harry will like that one thought? It’s a bit-”

“What I think is that Harry better get his lanky fuck of an ass out of this living room before I shove my foot up it.” Niall snaps before you can finish your sentence because unknown to you and to Harry he spotted your fiancé a few minutes ago and was waiting to see if he was going to leave on his own but when he saw him finish off his sandwich and stay exactly where he was instead of turning around and heading for his office or any other room in the house Niall decided he needed to step in.

“God you’re so violent for a man with wonky knees and a few inches left to grow before he’s even eye level with me.” You feel your eyes go wide when you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you.

“Harry Edward Styles.” Harry feels his cheeks get hot as he watches you turn so your arm is resting on the back of the couch, wine glass still in your hand as your back is leaning against the armrest so you can get a good look at him. “Have you been standing there the whole time Niall’s been here?” You ask as Niall turns so he can also look at Harry but while you are giving Harry a glare and a quirked brow Niall is simply trying to hold back a laugh because he knows Harry is about to be in trouble.

“Uh n-no no not the whole time.”

“Oh yeah that’s real believable mate.”

“Fuck off Ni-”

“Don’t tell me to fuck off when you’re the one being a right fucking creep listening to our conversation in the shadows over there you fucking weirdo.”

“It’s my house Niall I can’t be a creep in my own bloody house.”

“Clearly Harry you can because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Now run along and go do something productive like I don’t know? Audition for a movie or make another overpriced beach bag.”

“You are such a fucking ass-”

“Yeah yeah love you too now get lost.” Harry lets out a frustrated huff as he glares at the back of Niall’s head as he turns away from him so he can reach for his beer on the coffee table, Harry slowly turns his attention to you and his face instantly softens to a small smile that you can’t help but return as you meet his stare.

“I love you.” His voice is much softer as he stares at you and you know he wants to come closer so you just give him a small nod as you close your phone and place it in your lap face down.

“I love you too.” Harry smiles as he walks further into the living room so he’s standing behind the couch, you tilt your head back a little so you can look up at him. “But please go away.”

“Okay baby I’ll go away.” He tells you as he leans down so he can place a kiss to your lips, you smile when he pulls away and you get comfortable on the couch while Niall finishes off his beer. Harry is about to turn to head towards the stairs but before he does he quickly reaches over a smacks the back of Niall’s head making him let out a squeal of surprise as a hand comes up to rub at the spot Harry just hit.

“Treat people with kindness my fucking ass you twat.”

“You started it you wank my beach bags aren’t overpriced.”

Example two: Beer Pong ft. A jealous Harry👀

Harry hears laughing coming from the kitchen as soon as he opens the door to his office and steps into the hallway, he knows you invited Niall over for lunch but that was over three hours ago so there’s honestly no telling what exactly the two of you have gotten up to in the time he’s been tucked away upstairs for a few work meetings. He quietly makes his way downstairs and runs a hand through his hair as he comes to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile creeps its way onto his face when he sees you lean your head back and laugh at something Niall has said that’s also caused him to erupt in that loud obnoxious laugh of his. Now Harry has always felt secure in his relationship with you, even from the very beginning when he fought the Irishman currently sitting at his kitchen table for the title of your bestfriend all those years ago Harry has always knows where he’s stood with you but that’s never stopped him from sometimes feeling a certain tiny twinge of jealousy when he sees the two of you together because he knows your friendship with Niall is completely different than your friendship with him ever was.

You and Niall have secrets and little jokes only the two of you find funny, granted you and Harry also have secrets and inside jokes that no one else has the privilege of being privy to but Harry for some odd reason assumed when he became your fiancé that all the secrets you and Niall shared he would get the inside scoop on, but he was wrong. He knows it’s silly to get so worked up over your friendship with Niall, hell Harry is the reason you even know Niall so he can’t exactly be mad at how close the two of you are because he was there the day you met and he saw it first hand just how quickly the two of you seemed to click and form a bond. Deep down Harry is grateful for your friendship with his bandmate because Niall has been there for you at times when he couldn’t be due to distance because of a work thing or when Harry was too stubborn and lost in his own feelings to see the error of his ways when he’d done or said something he shouldn’t have so you having a few secrets and private jokes with him shouldn’t be a big deal but Harry just can’t seem to let it go sometimes and today is one of those times.

Despite Harry knowing that Niall is just your bestfriend, Harry is the one marrying you in a few months for goodness sake, he can’t help but glare at the side of Niall’s face when the little tiny voice inside his head begins to question what it is that Niall has said that could possible make you laugh so hard you have to reach over and grab his arm and give it a squeeze like that? Harry crosses his arms over his chest as he decides to watch the two of you from the doorway for a few moments longer, your back is to him so he doesn’t have to worry to much about you seeing him.

“I swear I’ve never seen her look so pissed.” Niall says between laughs making you shake your head as you try to catch your breath.

“That’s because she wasn’t expecting you to just say you thought her dress was hideous Niall.” Your voice is playful as your hand that’s on his arm falls back down to the table while Niall just rolls his eyes in response to your words. “It’s rude.” You add and Harry knows you’re giving your bestfriend a glare as you stare at him making him shrug.

“No asking me my opinion on a god awful dress when I’m three whiskey shots in and working on my second pint of Guinness is what’s rude.” That makes you reach over and give him a light smack upside the head resulting him reaching over to you and flicking you in the elbow. “Don’t start with me. You know you can’t beat me. At anything really. Remember the time you tried to come golfing with me? What a disaster that was.” He threatens in a non-serious tone when he sees you about to reach over and smack him again. Harry knows by the way you tilt your head to the side that you’re glaring at him but Niall just ignores it.

“Can’t beat you? Please I’ve actually done it before and one handed might I add or do you not remember?” This makes Harry raise an eyebrow because he has honestly no clue what you’re talking about but clearly Niall does because he watches as a smirk forms on his face and his eyes squint into a hard glare.

“Really now? You wanna talk about that night huh? Well let’s not forget who had to be carried home by that same man you claim to have beat one handed.”

“I did not have to be carried home you are so dramatic.”

“Me? Dramatic? Says the one who cried when I told her I didn’t have any coffee in my flat that one morning after-”

“Oh fuck right off that doesn’t even count as being dramatic because you’ve cried over food as well and I was violently hungover and all I wanted was coffee and who the hell has two coffee makers but no coffee?” Harry’s eyes are wide as he tries to make sense of the conversation he’s hearing the two of you have, he doesn’t know when you ever got so drunk with Niall he had to carry you home and he also doesn’t remember when you ever opted to stay at Niall’s apartment over staying with Harry so he’s not sure when the crying over the lack of coffee happened and it makes him feel extremely out of the loop and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Also I didn’t claim to beat you one handed Niall Horan I did beat you one handed.” You add as you reach over and grab a chip off Niall’s plate that looks like it’s leftover from the lunch to two of you shared hours ago.

“Beer pong isn’t my strong suit so it’s not that big of an achievement saying you’ve beat me at it.” Harry begins to flip through memories to see if he can try to get a better idea of when you and Niall were at a party and played beer pong together and it’s then that it hits him, this is all the way back when you were still in college and Niall used to go with you to a few frat parties because Harry didn’t like causing a scene when he’d try to go with you but Niall was able to blend in just a bit easier than him.

“Don’t be an ass.” Harry smiles as you not so gently punch Niall in his shoulder making him let out a groan as he rubs at the spot you just hit. “A win is a win.” You state with a huff as you steal another chip off Niall’s plate.

“Whatever you say bestie.” The tone is teasing as Niall looks away from you and suddenly Harry feels his body go stiff when he’s met with a pair of blue eyes staring into his green ones. “Hello there Harold how’s it goin? Your fiancé here is in a violent mood so I’d watch out if I were you.” Harry rolls his eyes as he takes a small step into the kitchen as you turn to look at Harry over your shoulder.

“I’m sure you deserved it.” You smile at Harry’s words as you turn to look back at Niall who just rolls his eyes making you stick your tongue out at him.

“Really? You’re so mature.” You just laugh as Niall gets up from his seat at the table. “I gotta head out but call me tomorrow and we can go over more Miami stuff because I’ve gotta book everything soon and if you don’t make up your mind about the boat then I’m gonna just make a decision for you and we both know which option I’m gonna pick.” He gives you a knowing look before he quickly leans over and places a super innocent kiss to your cheek that makes Harrys jaw clench.

“Okay I will call you with my decision by lunch time tomorrow.” You inform him and he just nods before he turns and heads towards the front door. “Love you!” You shout over your shoulder and you just smile when you hear Niall laughing as he shouts it back to you making Harry roll his eyes as he stands behind your chair.

“You’ve been down here with him all afternoon?” Harry asks as he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head as his hands rest on your shoulders.

“Harry.” Your voice is soft but stern and it’s an odd mixture that has Harry suddenly glad he can’t see your face because he’s sure you’d be giving him a look that tells him you know exactly how he’s feeling right now. “You don’t need to be jealous of Niall.” Is all you say as you reach a hand up and place it over his that’s on your shoulder and give it a little pat before you turn your head so you can look up at him. “You know that right?” You ask with a raised brow and Harry lets out a heavy sigh as he leans down to place a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“I know. I just can’t help it sometimes-know m’a bit obsessed with you and don’t like to share.”

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 04

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

There he stood, right in front of her, a smile playing on his lips as their gazes met. Y/N felt a rush of emotions, a mix of surprise, nostalgia, and an underlying current of something more profound. The unspoken words of their past seemed to linger in the air between them.

Harry, with his soft brown curls and a simple white shirt paired with jeans and worn-out vans, looked like a page from a memory that she had been trying to forget. Yet, as he stood there, the year they hadn’t seen each other melted away, and they found themselves suspended in a moment that defied time; it seemed like the past months never happened.

The Love Band's living room, with its soft lighting and the faint melody of Fleetwood Mac in the background, turned into a cozy space where only the current moment held importance, at least for Y/N and Harry.

"Hi, sunflower," he replied, the words carrying a weight that transcended the casual greeting. The endearment was a throwback to the days when Harry used to affectionately call her by that sweet nickname, a reminder of their time together.

To Y/N, hearing it from him sounded bittersweet, like the echoes of a melody that brought both the joy of nostalgia and the ache of what they were once.

As Harry spoke, his heart seemed to beat in his chest like the rhythm of a familiar song. In awe of her presence, he couldn't help but marvel at the woman she was. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight curve of her lips as she smiled – it was a sight he had missed more than he realized. 

In that suspended moment, their gazes held a conversation that words struggled to capture. Without a word, Y/N found herself stepping forward, drawn by an instinct that transcended logic. Harry, as if guided by the same unspoken force, opened his arms, a silent invitation.

As they embraced, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of each other's presence. The hug felt like coming home after a long journey, a familiar haven that resonated with shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the soft melody of their intertwined past.

For a moment, the cozy living room encapsulated the essence of what they used to be – a refuge where their souls met without pretense. The faint scent of Harry's cologne, the gentle rise and fall of their shared breaths, all contributed to the sanctuary of the embrace.

However, as they lingered in the hug, reality began to reassert itself. The made-up living room, once an intimate haven, became a stage where the complexity of their emotions played out. They reluctantly pulled away, a mutual understanding passing between them. The connection was undeniable, but so was the need for boundaries.

"I loved the show, Harry, you did amazing," Y/N said, a soft smile on her lips as she attempted to bridge the transition from the warmth of the hug to the safer ground of friendship. "I love the new album, too."

Harry's eyes crinkled at the corners, appreciating her genuine compliment. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot coming from you."

In his mind, he couldn't help but think that she was the muse behind the songs, wondering if she realized the entire album was dedicated to her. The melodies and lyrics, born from their shared experiences, whispered a silent acknowledgment of the impact she had on his creative journey.

"I can see how much you've all grown as a band," Y/N continued, her gaze drifting to the people surrounding them, all engaging in conversation between them, trying to give the couple a little privacy. "The Love Band has really evolved, and it's inspiring."

Harry nodded, a humble gratitude in his response. "We've put a lot of heart into it. It's been quite a journey."

"Speaking of journeys, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, pointing towards the two girls that stood a few meters away. "Let me present you to them; they're fans, just like me." She joked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the playful introduction.

Both Harry and Y/N walked towards them, and as they neared, Natalie and Maia exchanged excited glances, their smiles widening at the sight of the acclaimed musician in their midst.

"Harry, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, gesturing towards the two girls who stood now close to the pair. "Natalie and Maia, this is Harry."

Harry offered a warm smile, extending his hand to each of them. "Nice to meet you both."

Natalie and Maia, both trying to contain their excitement —understanding that he was also their friend’s ex-boyfriend— shook his hand enthusiastically, exchanging introductions with genuine joy. "Nice to meet you Harry, we enjoyed the show so much," Natalie admitted.

Y/N, sensing the formal atmosphere, playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, you two, you can fangirl. It's okay."

This broke the ice, and they all burst into laughter. The living room, with its soft lighting and the distant hum of Fleetwood Mac's tunes, witnessed the easy camaraderie of new friends. As they settled into conversation, the transition from fan admiration to genuine connection felt effortless, the shared laughter echoing in harmony with the melodies that surrounded them.

Y/N, sensing Natalie and Maia's eagerness to get to know one of the artists they both admired, decided to give them some space. With a smile, she excused herself, mentioning she needed a moment and headed towards the conjoined bathroom.

As she closed the door behind her, Y/N took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts in the brief solitude. The room's distant chatter and laughter, though comforting, served as a stark reminder of the evening's unexpected reunion with Harry.

As her eyes met her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a mix of emotions played across her face. There was joy, undoubtedly, at the sight of Harry again after a year of separation. His presence evoked a rush of memories, laughter, and shared moments that had shaped a significant chapter of her life. Yet, intertwined with that joy was an ache, a reminder of the emotions she thought time had dulled.

The realization hit her; she had missed him more than she allowed herself to acknowledge. Seeing him, hearing his voice, brought back the echoes of the past, the shared dreams and the bitter taste of the breakup that lingered beneath the surface. It was as if time had folded, and for a moment, the wound felt fresh again.

She held back tears, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The bathroom, with its muted ambiance, became a sanctuary where she grappled with the bittersweet truth of their renewed connection. The mix of emotions was a testament to the complexity of their history, a narrative that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

Lost in her whirlwind of memories and emotions, Y/N hadn't realized how much time had passed. The knock on the bathroom door jolted her back to the present, and she hastily wiped away a stray tear. "Coming!" she called out, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

A familiar voice responded, breaking through the door's barrier. "It's me, sunflower. Can I come in?"

Y/N took a big breath, her heart fluttering at the endearing nickname that held echoes of a shared past. With a decisive nod, she unlocked the door, letting him in.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a smiling Y/N, standing amidst the faint glow of the room. Yet, as normal as she tried to portray herself, he knew her more than she knew herself.

Harry stepped in, closing the door behind him, his green eyes holding a mixture of concern and understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, just needed a moment.” The bathroom felt like their own little bubble and privacy; vulnerable. And for a moment, this was her Harry —well, was— and decided to just be honest. “It's just… a lot to take in, you know?"

Harry mirrored her sad smile, acknowledging the weight of their reunion. "I understand. It's a lot for me too." He gently touched her arm in a comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. "I never expected to see you in the crowd again… after everything.”

For him, the sight of her in the audience triggered a strong sense of déjà vu, as if time had folded back on itself, recalling the moments when she used to be a familiar face in the crowd every night during their time together.

Feeling the warmth of his touch and the weight of shared history, Y/N found herself enveloped in a spontaneous hug. Harry's arms wrapped around her, a familiar embrace that brought a rush of mixed emotions. At that moment, words seemed inadequate, so they let the hug speak for itself.

"I missed you, bug," Harry whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I'm glad you're here."

Y/N, her eyes damp with unshed tears, managed a small, heartfelt smile. "Me too." The simplicity of those words carried the depth of the emotions they both felt. In the shared hug, amidst the echoes of their past and the uncertainties of the present, they found a moment of solace—a bridge between what was and what could be.

hellooo i'm back!! :) if you want to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post! thank you so much for the support, hope u enjoy &lt;3

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[allthelovehes]

Breaking Barriers*

Summary: Y/N is in her mid-twenties and still a virgin, but she decides she no longer wants to wait for marriage as the tension between her and her best friend rises.

Pairing: Bestie!Harry x Virgin!Y/N

Word count: 9.1K

Warnings: Protected sex, smut, p in v, deflowering, virginity talk, first times, oral f receiving.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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A/N:  Welcome to day 8 of posting daily! Ayooo, this was requested multiple times and I actually think it turned out sooo stinking cute omfg.

Being in her mid-twenties and a virgin is something not many people can say, let alone be proud of. It's something that Y/N chose and could have changed at any time. She could've given it away and tossed it to the next attractive man who looked her way but she didn't. She decided to save herself for marriage, even if it seemed stupid and cliché to some people.

For Y/N, her first time was important. It was a milestone in her life. Her body is a temple. It is to be cherished, worshipped, and honoured. Like most women, she wanted her first time to be something she wouldn't forget. She wanted it to be special and done with someone she loved and trusted.

So, Y/N waited. And if waiting for marriage meant skipping out on hook-ups? Then that was just fine by her. No sweat off her back. It took a while, but she was sure when she met the right guy it'd all be worth it.

Now, she wasn't opposed to making out and getting frisky. Y/N is as attracted to men as the next person and isn't afraid to have some fun with it, it just doesn't go much beyond hands. She sees kissing and touching that isn't penetrative to be healthy and normal.

Getting a partner, however, was the tricky bit. Most of them want to go all the way and have sex before they even get to know each other and the rest either take her for granted or have this kink about it, they like the thought of fucking a 'treasure' that no one's ever had or touched before.

Either way, she usually ends up losing interest in the relationship quickly. It seems the right man to spend the rest of her life with was a rare find. She didn't know if it was possible or if her expectations were too high. Or perhaps, being picky was the problem.

Eventually, she accepted it would take time for her to find someone. A time that she was willing and able to give. And right now, it was just a waiting game. To meet the guy whose arm she'd want to loop with hers for the rest of her life and create a beautiful life together in the process.

Just as Y/N was nodding off to sleep, a series of notifications on her phone rudely interrupted her sleep. Furrowing her brows, she sat up and lifted the device from her bedside table.

The screen lit up and showed who was texting her. It was her best friend, Harry. She slid her finger across the screen and a mess of messages appeared.

Harry Hi! *drunk selfie* So are we playing Scrabble tomorrow? I miss you and want to see you

Y/N If you still remember tomorrow and want to, sure.

Harry Sweet. Whatcha up to?

Y/N At home. About to go to sleep

Harry Oh sorry. You were probably sleeping

Y/N You're fine. I only just got into bed.

Harry What are you wearing, love?

Y/N Don't make me block you

Harry Ow ;( Why?

Y/N I'm too sober to have this conversation with you.

Harry *picture of him and Y/N* Look at us all cute, drunk out of our minds.

Y/N Very cute. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry Hey, one more question before you dooooooze

Y/N Go on.

Harry What are you wearing?

“Idiot.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself. With a few quick button presses, Y/N replied with a picture of her in her silk pyjamas, and then sent an audio message: “I'm fully clothed, in bed, covered with my duvet, about to sleep and dream of ways to torture you.”

She puts her phone down so she can actually catch up on her rest. Just as her head hits the pillow again, she gets another message from Harry. Pouting, she swiftly opens the message and swipes up the audio.

“Aww, you'll dream of me?”

For some reason, Y/N can hear a smug smirk in his voice and decides to just ignore it. Putting her phone on silent and plopping it back down on her bedside table, Y/N yawns and snuggles deeper under the covers.

Just as her eyelids begin to shut for good, something within her is stirring that makes it hard for her to sleep. Y/N feels hot all of a sudden, making her shimmy and pull the duvet up further.

What had happened in those final moments of her text conversation with Harry, who was now busy scrolling through pictures of the two together and rereading their texts? Well, it seemed it's woken up a side of her she wasn't too familiar with. Resting her hand on the front of her silk shorts, Y/N could feel she was wet and aching for some touch.

“For fuck sake.” She cursed and closed her eyes. Why now? She thinks as she pulls her hand away, afraid to do anything. She knows why, but doesn't want to admit it.

It's because of Harry. His ridiculous flirting skills have managed to push a few buttons. This has never happened before. Why is he suddenly affecting her? She blames his goofy but heartfelt selfie. God, those hazel eyes looked perfect paired with that signature golden brown fluffy mop of hair, the stupid look on his face and the two fingers up in the air.

Y/N can't deny she is attracted to Harry. What wasn't to be attracted to? When it came to his personality, she was rather fond. He has always been sensitive, goofy and yet extremely smart and serious when needed. And, of course, she couldn't forget to mention how lucky he is. That boy was drop-dead gorgeous. From his curly locks to his biceps, she can go on and on and on about what she liked about him.

His looks definitely played a factor in his reputation with women and it was no surprise their friendship became somewhat of a hot topic with his fans. If only they knew the truth. There was nothing going on between the two other than a strong friendship.

Harry is an absolute gentleman to her. He took care of her in a way that set her standards very high when it comes to men, maybe that's why she still hasn't found a man. However, the sexual tension that had been building up lately between the two was another story.

It was no secret that Harry is a good kisser. The amount of stories she has heard made her feel a twinge of jealousy every time. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to feel what his lips were like on hers, how soft they would be and how they would taste. He's always bragging about the tongue action that gets women all hot and bothered. Then, she wondered how good he would be using his mouth elsewhere and- No. She can't think like this. Stop. It's creepy and weird. So just, stop.

Then, her phone beeps again in her hand, indicating another message coming from Harry. A rush of warmth spread through her stomach and Y/N noticed she was tense again. Biting down on her bottom lip, she opened the message.

Harry *drunk selfie on the side of his bed* I'm home, goodnight love

She stares at the picture, her stomach dropping. Heat swells through her body and the feeling overwhelms her, making her squirm against the soft sheets. Swallowing, she holds the phone up higher and glares at the picture intensely, the area between her legs clenching. It's not as if he looks amazing. No. He looks grumpy, his brows furrowed and a blank stare in his eyes. He just looks so cute, kissable even.

“Enough.” She whispers under her breath and shoves the device back down onto the nightstand. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, turning the faucet and splashing cold water all over her burning skin.

Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Seeing him after her fantasies of him invading her thoughts would be an interesting development. Hopefully, it will fizzle away quickly and everything will go back to normal. Y/N thinks, getting back into bed and fixing her pillows just so. With a drawn-out sigh, she puts out the lights and shuts her eyes. ***

In the morning, there was only one thought running through Y/N's mind, and that was seeing Harry. Even after she woke up, went about her day, she couldn't wait to text him to see if he even remembered the arrangement for her to come over and play Scrabble.

With each message sent, she left an expectant eye trained on her screen, waiting for the three little dots to bubble up and indicate a response. Meanwhile, she paced back and forth between her couch and the kitchenette, tidying up without knowing why. Everything was already spotless. She straightened pillows, fluffed rugs, sorted candles, and shuffled trinkets, anything to distract herself and keep from pestering Harry.

After a few hours of constant upkeep, she finally gets a response.

Harry Sorry I missed your messages, kinda had a wild night lol Are we still playing tonight? I have wine, you got the Scrabble?

Y/N We're playing but the question is... will you be in a fit state for it ;)

Harry Ha-ha. Funny.

Y/N Always. See you later. X

Harry See you. I'll leave the front door open for you. Byeeeee

And that was it. The brief conversation between the two fuelled her emotions. On one hand, she was completely thrilled to be seeing her best friend again. To be in his presence and enjoy a wonderful game night is very exciting.

On the other hand, she felt a wave of dread overcome her, her heart racing at the thought. She brushed it off. Ignored it. Why should she be dreading seeing one of her best friends? That's absurd.

Scrapping her plan of getting all dolled up to go visit him, Y/N finds herself only comfortable enough to get changed into leggings and a t-shirt. Although Harry has seen her in her casual attire, she is feeling oddly self-conscious right now. She doesn't know why and it's getting rather irritating.

He is her best friend for God's sake! If anything, she should be feeling as comfortable and confident around him as possible because he will always accept her for the way she is.

Shaking her head, she gets ready to make her way to his house. Despite it being 3 pm, Y/N grabs a bottle of her favourite white and puts it in her bag and with that, she is out the door.

Upon arrival, she reaches for the door and opens it. Peering around the door frame, she manages to catch sight of Harry stepping out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

He is humming under his breath as he tousles his damp curls with the towel. Strolling across the room to his bedroom, he disappears behind the door.

“Hey, Harry!” She calls out to him as she enters. Smiling brightly, she drops her bag on his countertop.

“Hey.” He calls back. “Give me a sec. I'll be out in a minute.”

Y/N nods, despite him not being able to see it, and makes her way to his sofa, taking her usual spot at one end. Closing her eyes, she rests her head back and takes a deep breath. She already feels exhausted from the many random things she has done throughout the day.

“Do you want to eat first or play first?” Harry finally walks into the living room, wearing a grey sweatsuit.

Peeking through an eyelid, Y/N says. “I'm not hungry. It's still early“ while her inner-self cheered at his appearance, making her giddy.

With a nod, Harry pulled two glasses from the kitchen cabinet placing them on the coffee table. Sliding down next to her, he opened the bottle and poured their drinks. While he set up the board game, she relaxed and casually looked him over. He looked gorgeous as ever, and always put together even if he was barely dressed.

Green eyes flicking up to catch her gaze, Harry chuckles softly before asking. “Nervous?”

“Huh? Why would I be nervous?” Her mouth corners turn up, her heart fluttering.

“Last time we played you weren't very happy.” He shrugged, reminding her how he completely beat her at the game.

“Right. But this time, I'm going to beat you.” She confidently nods and picks up a bag of letters. Harry leans over with a smug smirk on his face as he pulls his own bag.

“Hmm, so confident.” He snorts, lining up his tiles.

“Mhm.” Y/N straightens out her tiles.

Quirking a brow, Harry wonders “Famous last words?”

With a sharp nod and a cheeky smile, she places her first tiles down on the Scrabble board. “Nah, you're going down.”

Harry chokes on his drink and starts coughing, his eyes burning a hole into hers. Staring back, Y/N raised a curious brow. Once he could speak again, he cleared his throat and let out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, so what if I am?” Harry's thick accent cut through as a deep dimpled grin blossomed on his face. She found her heart rate increasing and had to look away, willing her red cheeks to go away.

Swallowing, she began her game. The opening word of DOUBLE wasn't too promising for Y/N, seeing that that was her highest scoring word but she wasn't giving up just yet.

Over the first few minutes, they managed to put down a few good words and Y/N was ahead with a more than decent lead.

“Shit.” Harry breathed, leaning forward to assess his words. His eyes flickered around the board before sighing and ruffling his tousled mop. “I'm fucked.”

Y/N chuckles and rolls her eyes, taking another sip from her glass. Glancing over to Harry who was deep in thought, Y/N reached up and scratched the nape of her neck with one hand, her gaze drifting around the room. As she turned to face him again, she was caught off guard when their eyes immediately locked. Her heart stuttered.

Tearing her eyes away from his gaze, Y/N shifted uncomfortably, then decided to lean forward to select a letter at random. As she placed it on the board, she looks at him once more to find that the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

'Shit' she thought, Harry wasn't playing fair. Surely, he knew that looking at her like that made her drop focus. Attempting to save her dignity, she bit her bottom lip, suppressing a shy smile before raising an eyebrow.

“Is this your strategy to beat me?” Y/N challenged. “Suck me into your sexiness and take my turn? How lame.”

Harry spluttered, taken aback by her comment. He didn't really know how to respond, seeing his best friend make an unashamedly flirtatious comment for the first time. Looking away, he fiddled with his hoop earring.

“Wait. Was that... was that supposed to fluster me, Y/N?” He playfully scoffed. As Harry turned to look at her, he was surprised to find an amused grin playing on her lips. He thought he would find at least a small glint of guilt in her eyes for her playfulness, and was surprised when he didn't find anything other than playful curiosity.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it looks like I've got the upper hand now.”

“You wish.” Harry stared back at her for a moment longer, a playful glimmer in his eyes. A mischievous smirk curled up on the corner of his lips. She was aware that the lighthearted banter had led to a bit more, making her senses go crazy.

Y/N decided it's best to end the conversation there and start her round. Scanning the board, she's looking for a spot to place her letters. Wanting to lean a bit into their flirty banter from before, she decides to continue their tension with a bit of teasing.

Sifting her hand into her bag, she pulls out a few letters. Placing them onto the centre of the board where they intersect, she spells out 'erotic' and draws four points from the tile rack.

Erotic was an interesting word to play, for sure. Especially when it's put into the context of the new sexual tension between the two. So far, Harry has been trying to fluster her with his smouldering looks and cheeky grins, but Y/N is unrelenting. She takes pride in her willingness to fight back against the flirting and his attempts to get her distracted.

She sits back in satisfaction, proud at what she has accomplished. Glancing over to Harry, she felt herself swell with self-pride to see his face light up with surprise, making him actually speechless for a change.

Clearing his throat, Harry gathers himself and sits up. “Hmm.” he hummed, rolling the idea around in his head. With a smug grin, Y/N could tell he's thinking of a response; a comeback. After a few seconds of consideration, he moved his body forward and added three letters to the word. Using the letters he had received on the double letter area, he spelled out 'climax' using the c of her word.

A slight shiver went down Y/N's back at the addition to the word. Laughing and rolling her eyes, she fished out a few letters and added another word. Subtly shifting a little closer to him, she placed her letters down on the right-hand side of his spelling, close to his hand. After putting down her 'desire', she snatched her eyes away from the scrabble board and fixed her stare on him.

Both of them stay awfully silent while their bodies are almost touching. Y/N is tense, trying hard not to breathe too heavily. Meanwhile, Harry was in complete silence, not knowing what to say or do. He is aware of the tension between the two of them but he also wants to respect Y/N's boundaries and maybe tone down his feelings a bit. There's an inevitable tension and she's showing no sign of easing off. Harry was only further proven by her gentle voice in his ear.

“Now whose turn is it?”

Unable to meet her eyes just yet, he focuses on the dizzying words on the board and releases a slow, staggered breath. It was so hard not to put his arm around her, tug her in close and inhale her beautiful scent. Or run his hands along her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze, he craved the touch so badly. He finally took a breath and peered down at his letters, trying not to get too distracted by the growing sexual tension.

Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of warmth that had settled in her stomach since their game began, the warmth that made her tingle between her legs. She felt tempted to reach out and touch him, make contact and hopefully send a good buzz all the way down to his lower body.

Harry's fingers fiddle through his letters, barely paying attention to the little pieces in front of him. His eyes glance at Y/N, then move back to the Scrabble board. He thinks of his next word to play, something that is a little more suggestive.

“Umm...” Harry holds up a little tile, rubbing his fingertip over the surface as he thinks, his dimples pushing into his cheeks. Then, they sink right back out. He shakes his head and returns to sifting through the multiple letters in his bag.

Throwing one piece back into the depths of the bag, his index finger picks up another tile. The corner of his mouth turns up and he is finally confident with what he wants to spell out on the Scrabble board, so he gets to work. He needs an outlet from the fluttering of his chest when she's this close.

Quickly placing down the letters, he spells out the word 'horny'. Biting down on his bottom lip, he feels satisfied by the suggestiveness of his word and glances at Y/N.

Pursing her lips, Y/N tilts her head and gives a disbelieving smile. Harry looks taken aback by her quiet response.

“What? Did I read the room wrong?” He chuckles nervously, brows furrowing.

Looking at his face, she has to bite back a grin. She can read the mixed emotions all over his face. He's afraid to scare her away and reveal his true feelings, especially after the intense game of teasing. He's right. But she's also very pleased with the growing tension.

With a cheeky chuckle, she shakes her head. “No, I guess you read the room correctly.” Biting her lip, she quickly leans forward, adding letters next to his word on the right to spell out the word, 'Fuck'. Harry looks from her to the board, biting back a smirk.

“Is this your way of suggesting we play strip Scrabble? Should I get ready to lose my pants?” he jokes, nudging her shoulder, fighting the urge to break his boundaries. Not able to cope, Y/N just lets out a forced chuckle.

“Shut up, H.” Her voice broke. All she wanted was to feel his hands on her and bury herself into his chest.

Neither of them is paying attention to the score or to the other's gaze, they just lock their eyes together and absorb the heat, trying to predict what happens next. Harry didn't know what to say, nor did he think Y/N would, yet again, follow suit and gently lean forward.

After breaking from their little intimate session, Y/N looks at the board, wondering what their next move should be. She has to admit, these last few moves were very suggestive, and she is slowly catching Harry's point of wanting to touch her and have some alone time.

“Are you going to be mad at me if I do this?” Y/N muttered.

“Do what?”

Staring at him, Y/N ignores the thought and puts her tiles in a new spot. Only this time, she's adding all the letters remaining in her tile bag. There is no going back now, considering the board was almost completely filled up now.

She spells out the word 'wet' next to her first word. Shooting Harry a nonchalant, calm expression and staring at him for a reaction, she saw his reaction immediately. His eyes dropped to the board, then shot back up to her face. Heat, lust, and want flashed across his eyes.

An amused, surprised noise escapes his throat, then his lips tilt up into a shit-eating grin. “For real?”

“Yeah.” Y/N laughs in a rush. “I guess my dirty mind kicked in.”

“Your dirty mind, huh?” A glint of excitement flashes through his eyes and he begins to eye her body up and down. He can't deny the growing urge to touch every inch of her but he can't break her boundaries. Trying to erase those thoughts, Harry grins playfully, then adds a few of his own letters alongside her tiles to play a different word even though he knows he already lost the game.

Giving her a mischievous look, he reveals the word 'boner' and Y/N inhales sharply. They sit in silence for a moment, then Y/N cracks and breaks the silence.

“Oh fuck.” She laughs, the deep seated sensation between her legs not fading. Her eyes scan down to Harry's crotch, attempting to see if what he said is true. It's getting increasingly obvious that Y/N and Harry aren't actually playing a game anymore. Harry places his hands on his lap, covering his crotch from her wandering eyes. He laughs nervously, avoiding her gaze.

“I'm sorry.” He mutters, afraid of her response and of what she thinks.

Y/N bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. He waited anxiously for her reaction. One thing was for certain, the sexual tension has grown to unimaginable levels, the game forgotten. Finally, she glances back up at him, and she couldn't keep herself in control any longer.

Leaning closer, Y/N rests her forehead on his. He is taken aback, not moving a muscle. Shutting her eyes, she leans in to kiss him. Their lips connect and they close their eyes, relishing the moment. After a couple of seconds, they pull back, not sure whether that was the right decision. Her insides tell her to keep going, to taste him more. So with half a mind, her arm reaches forward to grab his shirt, wanting him closer and craving the touch. She looks up at his face and goes in for a much longer, sensual kiss as she straddles his lap.

For a moment, Harry looks at her questioningly before diving back in. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, it deepens the kiss as they feel electricity course through their bodies. His arms make their way down her sides and he squeezes her thighs as she unconsciously grinds on him. One of his hands run up her back, gripping her hair lightly while the other hand grips her waist. A quiet moan escapes Y/N's throat at his grip on her, further adding fuel to his fire. He gives a low growl before breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, leaving love bites down her skin.

“God, you're killing me, Y/N. Do you know that?” He groans into her, making her giggle a bit. Harry's heart burst with joy when he heard her laugh, she's the only person who could make him happy. He pulls back and grins at her then leans back in, kissing her sweetly and lifting her up. Y/N grips his shirt tightly, not wanting to be apart from him. Placing her on her back, he carefully gets on top of her, supporting his weight so he doesn't squish her, and his hands started roaming her body. Suddenly, she pushes him off of her a little and sits back up, feeling dizzy and wanting to gain her composure. Their hearts beat in synchrony and their breaths were heavy.

Harry is concerned by her quick push back, worry in his eyes. “I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong?”

“Are you kidding? That was great. I just... I..” Stuttering over her words, Y/N can't help but giggle as she ruffles her hair and leans against the throw pillow behind her. Harry is now assured that she is okay. Leaning forward, he kisses the side of her head, trying to soothe her so she'd be comfortable enough to tell him. “I want more.” She finally utters.

There was a beat of stunned silence. He shakes his head as his lips curve up into a small smirk. She mimics his expression. Lifting her chin up with his fingers, she meets his gaze. Both of them look down at her plump, red, and wet lips. Then he captures her lips with his, but not with so much restraint as before. He kisses her more passionately, hands cupping her face as he tasted her, kissed her harder, swiped his tongue against hers.

“Are you absolutely sure, Y/N? There's no going back from this.” He breathes against her lips.

Looking into his soft eyes, she can't think about anything else but him and his touch. Deep down, she always knew there was more. As she tilts her head to the side, she bites her lip and runs her hands through his hair. The feeling is a sweet relief, it is exactly how it looked and felt, just like in her dreams.

“I know. I think I've always known it was you. You're too captivating. You make me crazy.” She chuckles, blushing. “Also..” Placing her hands on his chest, she continues. “If I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be doing all this right now.” Y/N breathes, making him grin from ear to ear.

“What about waiting until marriage though? Are you sure you want to do this?”

Giggling, Y/N nods her head and bites her lip, wanting more. “Screw that.”

A shocked expression flickers across his face. Shrugging his shoulders, he leans closer. Y/N's breath hitches as Harry gently pushes her back down on the sofa, propping his forearms on either side of her head to support his weight, and placing his legs between hers. They felt each other's breath as their chests rise and fall with each in-take, anticipating what would happen next.

“Is this okay? Are you really sure, because once we start, I won't be able to stop.” His face inches closer, scanning every inch of her expression, her beautiful eyes and lips before stopping halfway.

Giving him a quick kiss, she nods and runs a hand through his hair again, then bites her lip while gazing at his seductive eyes. Her body trembles with excitement and nervousness. Trying to catch her breath, her mind is drowning in lust. She's just happy that they're alone and, after many years of dreaming about this day, the second it is finally here she is loving it.

“I'm very sure. In fact, why don't we go somewhere more...comfortable?” She whispers into his ear. Dizzy and sweating, Harry feels the bulge in his pants tightening, pressing against the fabric of his boxers as he smirks in agreement. Hastily lifting her in his arms, he crashes his lips to hers, missing their intoxicating touch.

Without pausing for thought, Y/N wraps her legs around Harry's waist as he supports her with his strong arms and makes his way towards his bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, she yelps playfully.

“Are you okay?” Harry's worried face appears in front of her. Shocked and caught off guard, Y/N bites back a smile as she pulls his shirt to collide his lips with hers again. She found herself breathing hard, unable to control it. He pulled back, meeting her eyes.

Y/N sat up slightly, reached down, and began slowly pulling Harry's shirt up his torso. The material bunched up under his arms and she broke the kiss, to slip the material off. With her pulse increasing as the intimacy heightened, she raked her eyes up his smooth, lightly bronzed, chest and torso. It was a beautiful sight. Pulling her eyes back up to his gorgeous eyes, his darkened with desire as he raised his brows in question. Instead of replying, Y/N pushed lightly on his chest, telling him without words to lie back on the bed. With his gaze never leaving hers, he lay back and waited.

Keeping the eye contact, Y/N pushed herself up and straddles over Harry's lap. His hands automatically came to rest on her thighs, the touch sending bolts of energy through her. Harry was such a tease and the way he touched her and glanced up at her was enough to get her off right there. All it would take is one little touch.

With excitement, Y/N pulls her own shirt over her head, exposing her bra for the first time to him. Of course, he had seen her in a bikini before. But the lace see-through fabric of her bra is completely different and it gets him wild. Harry watches carefully as Y/N bites her lip and leans down. Connecting their lips, she can feel his erection pressing against her.

Straddling his hips to meet his arousal, she begins to run her hands down his arms, squeezing firmly and drawing a low sound from his lips. Her body rubs up against Harry's erection and he gives a deep, low groan. Not once breaking the kiss, their hunger intensified for one another.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N presses her chest up against his and his hand slowly roams around to grab her ass, giving it a soft squeeze, making her moan. His hands then reach a bit up, sticking his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pulling the fabric over her ass. Y/N arches her hips a bit, allowing her leggings to come off a little further.

Harry lets his hands roam up her back as Y/N nibbles on his bottom lip, slowly grinding her sex into his. His hand nudges against her thigh, motioning for her to get off of him so he can take the leggings all the way down her legs. He slides the fabric down Y/N's thighs and knees and her leggings pool at her ankles. Seeing her bare legs, he can tell just how wet she is right now. She hastily kicks off the leggings, letting them fall to the floor.

Watching her closely, his eyes scan her body, taking in the full view. She can't deny how happy she is to see Harry admiring her, appreciating what he sees, loving all of her. It's exactly what she wanted, a man to worship her, to feel loved. And Harry makes her feel those exact things and so much more.

Pushing his hips up, he quickly gets rid of his own sweatpants before he guides her back to straddle him again. One of Harry's large hands glides along Y/N's thighs to her hips before snaking around to her lower back, where he applies a slight pressure, encouraging her to grind against him.

“You're going to be the end of me.” Harry chuckles, bucking up slightly to meet her grinding hips. The feeling drives her wild as the fabric of his boxers brushes up against her lace panties.

“Harry.” Y/N moans, letting herself move in sync with Harry's perfect thrusts. Feeling Y/N's wetness seeping through her panties and onto his boxers, the friction building between their heat is burning, and he needs more of her. But he wants her to set the pace. His lips part and their eyes stay locked together. Their heart rates are picking up and their movement speeds up. The slow build was like a torture, but Harry looks so damn gorgeous and lustful, making it worth it.

“We're really doing this.” Y/N whispers out with a giggle.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” She mumbles, smiling. Y/N pushes herself up a bit, hands bracing on his chest, and spreads her legs a bit more so she can angle her center more. Then she slowly grinds into him. His teeth capture his lip and his eyes shift to take in the movement of their bodies. Harry's hands leave Y/N's hips and he grasps her ass, holding her as she rides him. Grinding harder and faster, Y/N is enjoying the sweet sensation it's giving her. Little sounds leave her mouth as she swivels her hips.

Sitting up and pressing her chest into his, Harry grabs her hips tighter and pulls her down, bucking his hips up for friction and creating a delicious burn. Looking up to her face, she has the hottest expression he has ever seen. If she keeps staring at him like that, he thinks he might burst. There is no way he's going to last much longer, which is why he needs to take care of her first.

Slowing down the pace, Harry slides his fingers up her back and takes a hold of her bra clasp. “May I?” He asks in a hoarse voice. A light glaze shines in his eyes as he keeps the eye contact with her.

“Yes.” Y/N smiles, nuzzling her face into his. Leaning down, she carefully kisses him before sitting back. “I want you so much, Harry.” She admits, to his surprise.

“Oh fuck.” Harry swears, bucking his hips up for friction. Groaning and rubbing his erection as well as he undoes the clasp of her bra and it loosens around her body. Slowly slipping it off, the fabric slides down her arms, exposing her breasts. Harry stops breathing for a moment, admiring the view and absolutely loving it.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, Y/N. I couldn't get you off my mind if I tried.” He confesses, meeting her gaze, causing the girl to blush immensely. Moving his hands up her sides and sliding them up her stomach to her boobs, her mind begins to race as she feels herself getting more and more wet.

Harry's calloused fingertips brush over her hardened nipples, his lustful eyes still gazing into hers as her jaw goes slack. Grinding her hips faster and moving them to a steady rhythm, the both of them pant as their desire grows, aching for more. Throwing her head back with a moan, Harry's lips suddenly latch on to one of her soft nipples. Her hand cups the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair as she sucks.

“Harry, I need you, please.” She whimpers, begging him. The desperate tone of her voice makes Harry shudder, a familiar hot tightness coiling inside him, threatening to unravel as she rides him. He is swift to lay her down on his soft bed, her head on his pillow, then gets back to her breasts, sliding a hand down to her panties. Harry kisses a trail of butterfly kisses down her body, leaving marks down her abdomen as he does so. Her fingers go back to grasping his hair and pulling lightly as he makes it to the top of her panties.

“Can I take these off?” Harry pants, yanking the waistband a bit. He slips his fingers inside and gently strokes her pubic bone over her panties, teasing her. Y/N eagerly nods her head, pulling his hair slightly and guiding him lower. He bites his lip and tugs her underwear down her thighs as she helps kick them off. The sight before Harry made his jaw drop, leaving him breathless.

Y/N is incredibly wet, her fluids are dripping down her thighs, no hair blocking the way for him. Harry inhales sharply, running his finger through her folds and collecting her juice. Raising his hand to her face, he shows her. Feeling incredibly timid all of a sudden, she blushes and squeezes her legs shut.

“Hush now. You're perfect, so beautiful and bare for me.” Harry insists and peppers her knees with kisses. She parts her legs a bit wider for Harry. “Good girl, Y/N.”

Licking his lips, Harry traces his thumbs up her inner thighs and kisses her exposed clit. A spark flows through her body as Harry closes his eyes, getting lost in the exquisite taste of her arousal. The feeling is completely new to Y/N, she's not sure how to respond or what to do. At the same time, everything he does feels so good. Harry licks over her folds, running his tongue from the bottom to the tip. Her hands turn into fists, tugging at his brown hair as she draws a sharp breath.

A little too shy to make any noises as Harry teases Y/N's clit with the tip of his tongue. Her legs start to shake and she quickly covers her mouth with her hand as she lets out a needy moan. Harry grasps her wrist, pulling it away from her mouth.

“Don't be afraid. I want to hear you.” The thought of Y/N covering her mouth or muffling her sounds and keeping quiet bothers him a bit. Y/N lets out a little gasp and nods quickly. Without breaking eye contact, Harry presses his flattened tongue against her clit and licks until Y/N's vision starts to swim.

“Harry.” Y/N moans as Harry flattens his tongue, licking up her slit while he inserts a finger.

“Keep telling me how you feel. It's incredibly sexy.”

“Feels... Incredible.” She manages to get out before she squeezes her eyes shut. Harry responds by wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking gently. Inserting a second finger, he curls them against her G-spot while he twirls and flicks his tongue quickly.

“Y-yes.” Y/N cries out when Harry discovers her sweetest spot. Harry smirks and presses his fingers deeper while he continues using his mouth.

Keeping up with the swift motions of his tongue, his nose rubbing her clit a bit, Y/N's toes begin to curl and her heels dig into his mattress. Harry can't help but let out a low growl as the girl in front of him moans at a high pitch.

“H-Harry.” She whimpers between quick pants. Her stomach suddenly tightens as a ball of warmth spreads, soon making her go weak in the legs. Flicking his eyes up to watch her orgasm, he lets the heat spiral through her. His thrusts slow down as her insides pulsate, and he gets dizzy, feeling pretty smug. It feels like an explosion between her legs, so Y/N can't stop herself from grinding on his face to prolong her pleasure.

“See how gorgeous you are when you come for me?” Harry breathes after she catches her breath, gazing deep into her eyes and rubbing soft circles on her clit with his middle and pointerfinger.

His eyes were soft, but dark with lust, the expression in them shifting slightly as she stared at him. She could see his hardened nipples and defining tent of his boxers. Still on cloud nine, her cheeks feel hot and her body is radiating immense pleasure.

She wants to initiate the next move but she simply doesn't know where to start. Instead, Harry decides for her. Getting rid of his last piece of clothing, Y/N watches closely as he reveals his completely naked self. He kicks off his boxers and climbs back on the bed, hovering over her.

“What do you want to do next?” He asks in between kisses. Biting her lip in nervousness, she places her hands on his chest and kisses him.

“I don't know. Do you want me to return the favour?” She suggests with a sheepish smile, but Harry shakes his head.

“I want you to feel good. No favours you need to return unless you really want to.” He returns her offer with a gentle smile. She feels herself blush as his words run through her.

“Do you think...” She pauses and Harry swallows hard at the sound of her timid voice. “Do you want to try it?”

For a moment Harry is confused before her words begin to sink in. She wasn't very specific but there was no need for that. With his heart about to jump out of his throat, he understands right away and nods.

His eyes catch hers, and they smile in relief, happy to enjoy each other. Her mind runs wild as he kneels up for a moment to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. When he does so, her eyes run down his abs and back to his dark gaze. He tears the foil and puts the condom on his erection, the sight of him doing it making her want him even more.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He wonders, adjusting her on the bed so they're both comfortable. Swallowing hard, she nods, wanting this to happen. He asks her over and over to make sure she's sure of what she wants. She admits she's a bit nervous to do this for the first time, but she's 100% positive she wants to go through with this.

“Tell me to stop and I will, I promise.” Positioning himself, Y/N feels his breath on her lips as she gives him an enthusiastic nod. Smiling down at her, Harry pushes into her tight hole, going at a very slow and gentle speed so he doesn't hurt her. She was nervous, but his touch and actions helped keep her calm. He pushes his hips forward slightly, making Y/N whimper. Reaching up to caress his cheek with a sigh, the intimate contact giving him the strength to push into her as carefully as possible.

Being incredibly gentle with her, he hovers over her, eyes looking deeply into hers and soft sounds coming from his mouth, staying like that for a long time. Burying himself deep within her, Harry is completely still for a moment. The feeling of fullness and the sudden pressure is the best she's ever had. Finally able to fully relax, Y/N presses her lips against Harry's.

“You can move.” She breathes, to his great joy. The feeling of the heat of her pussy enveloping his erection sent a shiver down his spine. Gradually sliding out slowly, she feels her body moving in rhythm. Inch by inch, he eases himself back into her with a low hiss.

Harry clenches the sheets beneath them as he slowly builds his pace to a smooth rocking, groaning with her when his cock hits the end of her, causing little electric sparks up her spine. Harry sits up and grabs hold of her hips, her arms flying up to cover her chest in the process.

“Jesus, your pussy's so tight, feels so good.” Harry comments in a strained voice as he holds her hips tighter and guides her to rock into his thrusts. Y/N moves her arms back down, her hands trying to find something to grip as her walls clench tightly, making Harry thrust a bit harder. Squeezing the sheets, Y/N moans again.

“H-Harry. Oh! Please, faster.” Picking up the speed, Harry begins to shake as he pumps his hips harder. She rolls her head back, mouth wide open as the sweet build of an orgasm starts to rise in the pit of her stomach.

Grasping her hips tighter, he's practically spilling out all kinds of wonderful things as she cries out again and again. The lust takes over, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through her body.

His hand reaches down to rub her clit. Biting on her lip, her walls convulse and her breathing becomes heavy. They both stop breathing altogether when she arches her back sharply, getting in on their rhythm, pounding harder into her core. The warmth keeps building, coursing through her veins and through every cell.

“Oh, Harry. I'm gonna...”

“I know, baby.” He interjects as she writhes beneath him. Hitting that sacred spot inside her with each thrust, she doesn't think she'll be able to hold it in much longer. She wraps her legs around his waist, creating a deeper angle. It's absolutely amazing. She never wants it to end. Her toes curl and her eyelids flutter, taking it all in.

“I can't... Harry.” She exclaims breathlessly, and then screams out, repeating his name.

“You can, Y/N. Look at me. Let go and come for me.” Hearing his raspy voice and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, combined with the sound of his encouraging words drives her even more crazy, almost at the edge. She knows she'll fall down into a complete state of bliss any minute now. Grinding her hips harder, holding on for dear life and digging her nails into his back. She's squeezing him with her walls, everything seemed to melt together into an incredible cocktail of pleasure as she shouts out his name and comes on his cock. He keeps fucking her, keeping her orgasm going even after it came to an end.

When she regains the control over her body, she lowers her legs from around his body.

“Oh, Harry, that was amazing.” A lazy smile spreads across his face and their eyes lock, the both of them panting from her height.

“Do you want to try another position?” He inquires, leaving Y/N with a curious yet excited look on her face. Y/N nods with a faint “Yeah.” and the corners of his mouth tilt upward. With that, he pulls out, an unexplainable sense of emptiness filling Y/N, and she watches as he pushes her onto her stomach, taking a hold of her legs. Harry nuzzles his face into her neck, whispering sweet praises in her ear as he eases her into their next position.

Leaning up on her hands, he raises her onto her knees and steadies her position. He lines his cock up with her entrance from behind. Harry rubs the tip between her folds, he easily glides into her. Kissing her shoulders and down her spine, he doesn't hold back this time and she didn't mind because his wilder thrusts felt unbelievable, not to mention the sounds he kept making. Pounding his hips up against her ass with determination, his curses get louder and his moans turn into the most beautiful sounds she's ever heard. He's close. Y/N knows it.

“Y/N.” He manages in between hot pants and deep groans.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Where do you want me to...” She only had to think about it for half a second and nearly moaned at the mere thought.

“Keep going.” A fierce thud echoes through the room, matching Harry's skin slapping against hers as he rubs her clit once again and gives his final thrusts. Harry tightens his grip and Y/N can feel every muscle in his body get tense as he fills the condom. He's still for a moment, the throbbing of his cock noticeable inside of her.

Leaning up over her, he wraps his arms around her waist and her chin, tilting her head up towards him for a breathtaking kiss. Their tongues slow dance as Harry pulls out, carefully sitting the girl on the bed.

Harry leaves the room to his ensuite to toss the condom and clean up. He brings a damp washcloth and wipes her down, cleaning up the clear mess between her legs. Getting to her chest, he is gently and thoroughly meticulous. Doing everything as painstakingly slow as possible, Y/N closes her eyes in serenity.

While being touched so delicately, she lets out a small sigh and places her hand on his. Bringing her knuckles up to his soft lips, a faint smile plays upon his gorgeous lips. The intensity and lust in Harry's eyes are nowhere to be found, only adoration lingers now. He dresses himself in a clean pair of boxers and turns around to speak up.

“You're staying right?” He questions, slightly chewing his lip as Y/N makes direct eye contact, the thought of staying and sleeping beside him becoming increasingly tempting.

“I'd love to.” She responds hazily, the sleep already starting to take over her body. Harry chuckles at her clear exhaustion.

“I'll get you a shirt and a pair of boxers then. If you want.” He stutters in a nervous way, his confidence fading into a shy demeanor all over again.

“That would be great, thank you.” Sitting up on the bed, she watches as he opens the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, pulling out an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of plain black boxers. Harry hands the garments to her and heads out of the room.

She throws his Rolling Stones shirt over her frame and glances down, making a mental note to take this shirt home tomorrow. After slipping on the boxers, she lets out a heavy sigh, crawling into the bed and plumping the pillows behind her back, getting ready to put in her best effort to stay awake until Harry returned.

Entering the room with two mugs in his hands and a cautious expression, he can't help but smile at the sight of her body so carefully protected by his bedding. The overwhelming joy floods his body as he sits down next to her, gently handing her a mug, full of tea. A sincere smile spreads across her face as she accepts the mug, sipping the warm liquid and pulling the bedsheets up higher.

“Thank you. Do you usually bring tea after sex?” She jokes, Harry letting out a light-hearted giggle and grinning before replying.

“I just thought it could help you relax, or calm you down.” The honesty in his voice catching her off guard for a moment as she quickly recovers.

“Relax or calm me down?” Raising his eyebrows, he nods slowly.

“I know how intense and strong the emotions that are inside of you can get. I wanted you to have a tea that would help soothe your mind know you.” He explains, placing his hand on top of hers, rubbing circles as she nods. Placing the hot tea down on the nightstand, she turns back to him with wide eyes.

“That means a lot, thank you.” She whispers, pressing her lips to his ever so gently. The cup of tea feels like a confirmation that she made the right choice to give herself to Harry. He cares for her, makes her feel cherished and comfortable. That's a great thing in Y/N's opinion.

Snuggling up closer to Harry, they sip their hot tea. Harry asks her if she's feeling alright, to which Y/N answers that she feels fantastic, and Harry can't help but think back to the few hours ago when they danced around eachother, making his heart ache. He kisses the top of her head and caresses her face as he stares into her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He voices, cupping her face in his large hands.

“About how I wanna do all of that again with you.” She blurts out innocently, making the man laugh for the umpteenth time tonight and making her wish he would keep laughing forever.

“You're not the only one.” He says, setting his empty mug of tea next to hers. All of that tension, all of the stolen glances and awkward moments leading up to what happened tonight felt completely worth it. They both got some stress out and finally found the right times. Being held by the best person in the world, Y/N finds it easy to shut her mind down. Everything is good and she believes their friendship has grown into something far deeper. Maybe she finally found love, she thought before she surrendered to her heavy eyelids and drifted off, pressed against Harry's warm skin.

Sighing with relief and pure admiration, Harry lets his mind wander as he looks down at the most stunning girl he's ever laid eyes upon. He closes his eyes, pulling the blankets higher so her delicate form won't get cold in the middle of the night and lets himself indulge in the feeling of her soft skin brushing his. Not being able to believe what just happened between them, his body relaxes more than it had in months, maybe even years. Admiring her features and carefully placing a chaste kiss on her temple before he too drifts off to sleep.