#Harry styles mini series

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: Highly Recommended

Masterlist: here

CW: Frat Harry, language, Harry is a bit of an ass, bit of angst, your ex shows up and is a dick (this is the only time you’ll see him)

A/N: Honestly Harry is gonna be going through it in this mini series so just buckle in because he’s in for an emotional roller coaster, also Niall is in this because as if I can have frat Harry without frat Niall. Enjoy!✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1

Summary: You hire a company to help move you into your new apartment and someone ends up dropping a box and hurting your feelings📦✨

You let out a sigh as you stand in the middle of your small campus apartment that’s currently filled with boxes, finding it hard to believe that after almost four years this is the last morning you’ll ever spend in this space. You look around and smile as memories flood your mind of the various milestones that took place in this cramped space, such as when you got broken up with by who you thought at the time was the love of your life while sitting on the edge of your twin size bed or the time your friend got too drunk at a party and ended up falling asleep on your living room floor and woke up the next day with a piece of pizza stuck to her forehead. But the most recent one that comes to the surface of your mind is when you were sitting on your couch and got the call you’d been waiting for, that the job you applied for and wanted more than anything was yours.

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer as a loud knock on your door makes you let out a startled squeak as you jump a little at the noise. You quickly take a step towards the door and raise an eyebrow at the conversation happening on the other side of it.

“M’telling you her name was Jenny.”

“And I’m telling you her name was Jamie.”

“Oh fuck off Harry you’re shit with names and you know it.”

“Not the names of hot-”

The two men standing in the hallway immediately stop their conversation and turn to look at you as soon as you open your door, the one with blonde tips but darker colored roots and bright blue eyes gives you a smile and a small wave. But the one with a backwards SnapBack covering his brown curls and green almost emerald colored eyes doesn’t do anything but stand there and not so subtly allow his eyes to roam over your body for a moment before they dart back up to your face. You give them both a smile and step to the side letting them enter your apartment, it’s then that you notice how similar in age to you they appear to be and when you look at their attire you can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been doing this job because you’ve never seen movers arrive in skinny jeans or basketball shorts.

“Uh so I’m not sure-”

“Oh shit sorry where are my manners? I’m Niall.” The blonde one laughs as he holds his hand out for you to shake. “And that grumpy fuck over there is Harry and we are your hunks for this morning and you’ve got us for two-oh no sorry uh you’ve got us for three hours.” He explains as you reach out and shake his hand, you glance over to Harry who is eyeballing the amount of boxes in your living room, not paying any attention to the conversation going on between you and Niall.

“Lovely to meet you both.” You say as you introduce yourself and let go of Niall’s hand. “Do you two do this a lot?” You ask making Niall laugh while Harry just rolls his eyes as he walks into your small bedroom.

“You could say that.” Niall answers as he slides his phone into the pocket of his silver basketball shorts after he checks the time. “This is our summer gig and we’ve been doin it for a few years but seein’ as we graduate in a few weeks this is one of our last jobs as official college hunks.” You can’t help but smile at Niall’s Irish accent, it just makes everything sound so much more interesting.

“I graduate in a few weeks as well.” Niall just smiles at your announcement not wanting to tell you he figured as much giving the whole moving out of your on campus apartment, but he’s a gentleman so he just keeps that to himself.

“No shit.” You quirk a brow at the sound of a British accent making a mumbled comment from behind you in your kitchen. Niall’s face drops as he sends a glare over your shoulder making you turn your head only to find Harry leaning against your counter with his arms crossed over his chest, letting you get a quick view of the random tattoos scattered on his arms. When he catches your stare he raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

“What? I mean it’s obvious you graduate soon that’s why you have to move out which is the whole reason we’re here.”

“Right. Sorry.” You feel your cheeks get hot as you turn to look back at Niall who gives you a warm smile as you walk by him and into the living room where the majority of your boxes are. “Uhm it’s just boxes and my bed the rest-”

“The twin? That’s your actual bed?” Harry asks with a hint of shock mixed into his voice as he pushes himself off the counter and motions towards your bedroom.

“Uh yes that’s mine it was cheap and I didn’t need anything bigger-”

“That’s not surprising.” Harry mumbles as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, Niall just rolls his eyes and shakes his head before he gives you his full attention.

“So the boxes and your bed is all we’re takin’?” Niall asks just to confirm what you were saying before Harry interrupted you.

“Yes and uhm some boxes I labeled with stickers so you’ll know which ones to be a little careful with.” You explain as you point to a box on your kitchen counter with a few red “fragile” stickers on it, Niall just nods and turns to look at Harry who is scrolling on his phone not listening to anything you’re saying.

“Hey asshole did you hear that?” Harry lifts his head up at the sound of Niall shouting at him and gives him a shrug.

“It’s boxes and a toddler sized bed frame Niall it’s not fucking rocket science.”

“You’re just so much fun to be around in the mornings Harry no wonder all your lady friends leave before the sun comes up.”

“I don’t cuddle. That’s why they leave. Now are we doing the bed first or the boxes?” Harry slides his phone into his back pocket as he waits for Niall to answer his question. You watch Niall look around your living room and then walk into your bedroom so he can get a better idea of how many boxes you have. But while Niall is busy doing that you feel as if someone is staring at you but when you turn to look at Harry he quickly looks away and down at his scuffed up boots, another thing you’ve never seen movers wear.

“Do you always dress like this to move people?” You don’t know why you ask him because you already can tell from the few things he’s said to you that he for some reason doesn’t like you. So it’s no surprise when he looks down at his white tank top and black skinny jeans with his scuffed brown boots that when he looks back up he has his eyes narrowed in a harsh glare aimed directly at you.

“Well if you really want to know.” You watch the corners of his mouth curl up into a smirk as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I forgot we had this job today so I didn’t sleep at my place last night” Only the last part of his confession takes you by surprise, seeing as you’re sort of used to being easily forgotten or pushed to the side for something or someone else so you don’t take it too personally you just take it as Harry isn’t very organized with his time.

“Oh uh well for not knowing you had work today I’m uhm glad you weren’t late.” You stumble through your sentence making Harry let out a quiet laugh that you know isn’t at what you said, it’s more so just him laughing at you.

“Let me guess this is how you always dress huh?” He asks in what you know is a teasing tone as his eyes travel down to your t shirt and black shorts with little flowers all over them before finally landing on your white slip on shoes making you feel extremely self conscious.

“Uh yes why-”

“Okay let’s load the bed first then just pile all the boxes around it.” You turn and face Niall as he walks out of your bedroom with his phone in his hand, he gives you a smile as he holds his phone out towards you. “Just need you to initial right here for me love, this says we are starting at nine fifteen and your three hours starts now.” He explains in a soft and friendly tone as you take his phone and put your initials next to where he’s pointing with his free hand.

“Okay great.” Niall just smiles as you hand him his phone while Harry heads into your bedroom to start grabbing your bed frame.

“Alight Styles let’s do this.” As soon as you hear Niall say the name Styles you’re hit with the realization that you know you’ve heard that name before, you just can’t remember where.

Harry doesn’t know what it is about you that irritates him, it could be the way you just seem too happy at nine in the morning or maybe it’s the way you smile every time you see Niall walk into the room but either way something about you rubs Harry wrong and has him acting in a way that’s not like himself. Now he’s not the sweetest person alive, not by a long shot but he’s known to be charming and maybe a bit cocky but still he’s never been called rude or a jerk by anyone unless maybe by a girl he turned down for a date or a fling he had to explain his lack of feelings for when it came time to end things but other than that Harry is known around campus to be a relatively nice guy. He figures you have to be nice in order to get the things you want, and in his case it might be a date to a party his fraternity was throwing or a quick hookup on a night out at a bar, being nice works quicker than being the typical douchey fraternity brother people assume he is but something about you has suddenly turned him into what he usually isn’t, an asshole.

He can’t be bothered to return any of your smiles, no matter how nice they are or how they make a weird little fluttering feeling start up in the pit of his stomach. He chooses to distract himself with a game on his phone or going to look around your boxed up apartment while you and Niall discuss the logistics of the move. He tries to ignore the way your room smells as if he just walked into a field of flowers on a warm summer day and he will absolutely deny the fact he quite likes it. So much so he finds himself taking a deep inhale as he walks towards your connected bathroom where it seems to be the strongest making him believe it might be the body wash or shampoo you use in the shower. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind as he heads back into the living room, coming to the conclusion that the smell was just messing with his head a bit and he doesn’t at all want to be wrapped up in it for the rest of his life.

When he walks back into the living room he sees a box that’s open and since your back is facing him because Niall is going over the spiel about how they won’t be doing this job for much longer he takes the opportunity to take a little peak. He doesn’t expect to see much of anything really, maybe some random clothes or decorations you packed last minute so when he looks in and sees a photo of you and some guy hugging and smiling at each other like two idiots in love he has to stop himself from grabbing it and taking a closer look to see if he recognizes the man. Harry ignores the weird feeling in his chest as he sees a small teddy bear and some other items in the box with the photo and he wonders if this box is full of things the man in the picture gave to you, if it is then he has cheap taste because Harry knows for a fact the teddy bear looking up at him was a free gift with purchase at one of the campus stores last Valentine’s Day.

When he decides he’s seen enough he quietly makes his way into the kitchen and leans against the counter as he waits for instructions from Niall on how he wants to handle this move. When he hears you mention you’re graduating soon he doesn’t mean to let the words slip out of his mouth, truly he doesn’t. He meant to say it in his head but again, something about you has him knocked off balance so when you look at him with a raised brow he has no choice but to explain his sudden outburst and it doesn’t come out as nicely as he intended making him feel like an asshole when he sees your cheeks get pink out of embarrassment. But of course he can’t just simply stop there, no he has to go and make a comment about your bed as if it’s any of his business really because who is he to judge you for keeping a twin sized bed when in reality he just graduated to a queen size himself after moving out of his frat house two weeks ago.

It’s when you try to make small talk with him that has him thinking insane things such as the possibility you’ve got him under a spell or something because why can’t he stop himself before saying something rude like he normally can? It’s as if his mind and his mouth are having a battle and his mouth is winning causing him to really look like an absolute asshole. The look on your face when he says he forgot about the job today; which was a lie because he had it saved to the calendar on his phone and even set a reminder alarm and everything, is one that almost takes him out of his irritated state because it’s as if that’s something you’re used to hearing. Like people forgetting about things that pertain to you is a common occurrence and that has him instantly wishing he could take the whole interaction back but he can’t. And the worst part of it all is he knows what you’re thinking, that he spent last night with some girl or “lady friend” as Niall calls them but he didn’t, he spent it on his friend Tyler’s couch after he fell asleep at an embarrassingly early hour after one too many beers while watching a football game.

He’s never been happier to actually start a job before, because as long as he’s busy that means he won’t have to be near you for longer than the few minutes it takes for him to grab another box or two and head back down to the truck and the best part is, he simply wont have any time to stand there and talk to you. As soon as he’s in the hallway with your twin sized headboard and footboard in his arms it’s like he can finally breathe again, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t immediately miss the flower and sunshine smell but still, he feels at ease and even smiles to himself as he waits in the area the elevators and stairwells are at for Niall who has some pieces to your bed frame in his arms.

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry knew this was coming the moment he first let out a huff in front of you, Niall isn’t one to take being rude to someone for no reason very lightly especially someone who hasn’t been anything but nice since she opened her door. “Why are you being a ragging fuckin’ twat to the poor girl?”

“I don’t-I just can’t help it?” Niall glares at him for a moment before he just walks by him and puts the parts to the bed frame down so he can press the button for the elevator.

“Well figure it the hell out because she’s nice and I don’t want her leaving a shit review because you can’t get your head outta your ass.” Harry doesn’t say anything in response, he just looks down at the floor as they wait for the elevator doors to open.

Harry has two boxes in his arms and is half way to the truck parked on the street outside your campus apartment building when he hears someone calling his name. He looks around with a furrowed brow as he continues on his way to the truck not seeing anyone heading his way until his eyes land on someone he didn’t plan on seeing anytime soon since usually he only sees him trying to sneak his way back into house parties after being kicked out for getting too rowdy or just pissing the entire chapter off. The smile on the man’s face makes Harry want to roll his eyes at how fake it is, but he just gives him a simple nod of acknowledgment as he places the boxes on the floor of the truck and with one hard shove sends them sliding towards the back near your bed.

“What’s up Styles? You helping someone move?” Cody asks as he takes a quick glance into the back of the truck, Harry just turns around and leans against the truck as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s kinda my job so yeah.” He answers with shrug which for some reason makes Cody laugh as he runs a hand through his short dirty blonde hair. “What are you doing here? It’s a bit early for you to be awake isn’t it?” Harry is lucky that Cody isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed because his tone is anything but teasing but it seems the man doesn’t notice as he just turns and looks at the building behind him and then back to Harry with a simple shrug of one of his shoulders.

“I’m just here to get some stuff from someone.” He answers and Harry just nods expecting that to be the end of it but Cody lets out a sigh as he shoves a hand in his back pocket to grab his phone. “You know how crazy ex girlfriends can be. Always coming up with dramatic reasons to make you come over.” Harry in fact doesn’t know, having ended his only two serious relationships in a very civil manner so he’s never had to deal with anything close to a crazy ex.

“Oh got it.” With that Harry uncrosses his arms and takes a few steps towards the building and away from Cody who is looking down at his phone with a furrowed brow. “Good luck mate.” He sarcastically calls over his shoulder with a shake of his head as he thinks of the poor girl who’s about to have to deal with that jackass.

“Okay so just these boxes left?” Niall is pointing to a stack of boxes on your kitchen counter when Harry walks back into your apartment, and for a moment he thinks he’s finally out of whatever weird daze he’s been in over the past hour while helping you move because he doesn’t find himself being hit with the overwhelming smell of flowers and sunshine. He walks into the kitchen and stands near your sink waiting to hear what’s left for the two of them to take to the truck.

“Yes and those are the ones with-”

“What the hell is going on in here? Are you-you’re actually moving?” A loud voice coming from your front door startles you as you make the tiniest little squeak and bring your hand up to your chest.

Now Harry has been good for the last forty five minutes, he hasn’t looked in your direction or given himself too much time in the apartment alone with you to allow himself the opportunity to say something dumb or more importantly, rude. But at the sound of Cody’s voice he can’t stop himself from looking at you and the moment he does he regrets it because the look on your face is one of not only shock but Harry swears there’s also a hint of nervousness hidden behind your eyes and it’s all directed towards the man standing only a few feet away from where you’re standing in your living room.

“Uhm yes I-I told you remember? That’s why I asked you to come get-”

“I thought that was some bullshit lie to just get me over here so we could talk.”

“Oh uh well I asked you over here three-three weeks ago and you uhm ignored my texts.” Harry feels his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he watches Cody roll his eyes as he takes a step further into your small apartment.

“I mean we aren’t together so I don’t have to answer your texts or calls any-wait Styles? Oh shit Horan? She’s the one you’re helping move?” Niall looks at Harry over his shoulder and rolls his eyes before looking at Cody with a smile that only Harry would be able to tell is fake.

“Obviously.” Harry snaps making Cody look at him with a raised brow.

“How did you even hear about these guys?” Cody asks you while still staring at Harry, you look at Niall who gives you his signature warm smile as he walks towards the kitchen to grab a box off the counter.

“Oh uhm Monica recommended them.” Your answer makes Cody laugh as he finally looks away from Harry and over to you while Niall silently makes his exit with a box deciding he doesn’t want to be around Cody and his bullshit any longer.

“Monica?” You nod and Harry hasn’t ever wished the world would open up and swallow him whole until this very moment, as soon as you said the name of who told you about their company Harry knew exactly who you were talking about and he knows Cody does as well.

“She’s a friend of yours isn’t she Styles?” Harry acts like he doesn’t see the way your eyes dart over to him as Cody crosses his arms over his chest while turning to fully face Harry.

“I know her yeah. Helped move a couch to the dumpster for her. That’s all.” It’s only a partial lie, he very much didn’t just help her haul a couch to the dumpster but he really doesn’t want you to know about any of that because he knows it’ll just solidify the idea you have in your mind that he’s an asshole who sleeps around.

“Don’t be so modest it must’ve been a good time if she recommended your services to her friend.”

“I moved a couch that’s-”

“Oh you’re Styles. Harry Styles.” Your voice saying his name makes his jaw clench because the way you sound like pieces to a puzzle only you can see are being put together in your mind makes him want to punch a wall out of pure frustration. Learning Monica is your friend means you probably already know everything and he can’t do anything about it, and the most annoying part is he doesn’t know why he cares, he doesn’t even know you.

“You’ve heard of him?” Cody asks as he walks into the living room towards the open box full of stuff Harry took a look at earlier and of course he’s the one who got you the cheap teddy bear, what an asshole.

“Not uhm anything bad I just have heard your name around before like at uh parties and-”

“And Monica?” Harry questions and again he swears he didn’t mean for it sound so harsh and accusatory, he just wanted to know if she told you anything about what went on between them and of course it comes out rude and snappy.

“She just told me you were nice and helpful that’s all.” You look extremely overwhelmed as you answer him and Harry knows it’s partially his fault so he just does what he thinks is best and gives you a small nod and goes to grab a box from the kitchen counter.

“What is all this shit?” You turn to give Cody your attention as he stands there going through the box of stuff. “Why would I want any of this? Is the bear I got you?”

“It’s everything you ever gave me I uh well-uhm didn’t know if you’d want it back?”

“You called me over here to give me a box of things that I gave you as gifts back to me? Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry I’ll just keep it then.” Harry can hear the uneasiness in your voice as Cody lets out a scoff as he grabs the box and brushes past you on his way to the door.

“You’ve always liked wasting my time.” Your shoulders slump as his harsh words hit you just as he reaches your door. “Delete my number.” Is the last thing he says before he walks through the open door and down the hallway towards the elevators.

One thing about Harry is he hasn’t ever had the best timing, he really thinks that’s the universe’s way of getting back at him for all the little wrongs he’s done in his life. So when he grabs the box off your counter he knows the moment he lifts it up that he’s going to drop it, not because it’s too heavy or because it’s not taped and securely closed but because just as he decides to lift it off the counter and take a step towards the door he allows his eyes to find you. Of course he would choose to look at you just as your asshole of an ex storms out of your apartment leaving you standing there looking like you’re one second away from breaking down, your eyes are big and your cheeks are pink from the embarrassment but it’s the way your hands are balled into little fists that tells Harry you’re trying to hold it together.

So in true Harry fashion that has to be the moment he lets a box slip out of his hold and land on the floor of your kitchen with a sound that has his eyes squeezing shut because he knows that was something glass that probably just broke. When he opens his eyes he lets out a sigh as he bends down to grab the box and he hates the sound it makes when he lifts it off the ground, but before he can take another step he sees your white shoes step in front of him making him pause his movements as he slowly lifts his eyes up from your feet to your face.

“Uhm did you just-”

“I didn’t do anything.” He wants to smack himself as soon as the words leave his mouth because you saw him drop the box, he knows you saw him drop the box and on the off chance you didn’t see it he knows you heard it.

“It’s okay it was just an accident.” Your voice is so soft and soothing it pisses him off because you should be yelling at him not reassuring him, especially after what he just saw and heard you have to deal with.

“It would be if something happened but nothing did. I’m just trying to finish getting your shit to the truck.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice at this point because why is he still talking as if he didn’t drop your box right in front of you and if that’s not enough now he’s trying to act as if you’re holding him up from finishing his job, you’re going to hate him by the end of the morning he just knows it.

“Harry.” He lets out a sigh as his name falls from your lips just as he walks around you and towards the door. “It’s okay.” Harry doesn’t say anything as he’s suddenly surrounded by the familiar sunshine and flowers scent and then he feels you place a hand on his arm and he swears if he hadn’t already dropped the box in his hands he would’ve done it just then because the softness of your hand on his bare arm sends a weird kind of shockwave down to his fingertips. But he just adjusts his grip on the box and because he figures he’s already dug himself a decent grave he might as well make it a little deeper by acting like nothing happened as he walks out your front door and down the hallway.

“Shit shit shit.” He mumbles to himself after he places the box down by his feet along with the hat he had covering his hair once he makes it to the elevators and runs both hands through his hair as his heart starts pounding in his chest as if he just ran a marathon. “What the fuck is happening to me?” He asks himself as he tries to gain some sort of composure.

“You look like shit.” Niall states with a laugh as he steps off the elevator and gives Harry a once over, he glances down the hallway before looking back at Harry. “Please tell me the douchebag is gone.”

“Yeah yeah he’s-he’s gone.” His words come out breathy as if he’s still struggling to fully catch his breath and calm down. Niall gives Harry a weird look before he just shakes his head deciding it’s better to not ask, so instead he walks around him and down towards your apartment to grab the last two boxes.

“Get it together Harry. No more dropping boxes. You’re better than that. You’re a professional.” That’s as good of a pep talk he can muster at the moment before he grabs the box and steps into the elevator deciding he’s going to do everything in his power to avoid direct contact with you for the remainder of the hour and a half he has to spend moving your stuff.

[alohajix]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲

Description: in the quiet town of Holmes Chapel, Amara—a gentle, nurturing kindergarten teacher—lives a life built on routine, safety, and quiet strength. She’s not looking for love, especially not after the scars left behind by someone she’d rather forget. But when Harry Styles walks into her classroom carrying his three-year-old daughter and a heart still grieving the loss of the woman he loved, everything changes. Neither of them is ready. Neither of them is looking. But sometimes, the people who change your life don’t knock first. They just… show up.

Warnings: this mini-series includes grief, past emotional abuse/manipulation, trauma recovery, single parenthood, and emotional vulnerability. Later chapters will contain explicit smut (clearly labeled).

Words count: TBK.

First part is here! Tell me what do you think in the comments💕

*****

PART ONE – Tiny Brave Things (Words: 12.4K)

AMARA

The kettle clicked off just as the sun began its slow rise behind the garden hedge, spilling pale gold through the kitchen window and casting a honeyed glow across the tile floor. I stood barefoot by the sink, hands wrapped around a mug that still steamed gently against my palms, and let the morning settle around me. The quiet was soft and familiar—no cars, no voices, just the faint hum of the fridge and the birds calling to each other through the hedgerow.

This was my favorite part of the day. Before the noise, before the paint-stained fingers and paper towel crises, before someone cried because someone else used the purple crayon first. Just the stillness of home. My own breath, steady and slow. The ceramic weight of the cup in my hands. The ache in my shoulders I hadn’t realized was there until the heat began to ease it.

I took a sip and leaned against the counter, watching the steam curl and vanish. My skin was still warm from the shower. I hadn’t bothered with the hairdryer—just towel-dried my hair and twisted it into a low bun. A few strands clung to my temples, already loosening in the morning humidity. I didn’t mind.

I glanced at the clock above the oven: 6:41 a.m. Early. Earlier than I needed to be up, but I’d stopped fighting it. My body knew what it needed. I gave up on sleeping in years ago—around the same time I realized I felt safest when I had a little extra time. A little extra quiet. A little extra space between me and whatever the day might bring. Some people woke up to alarms. I woke up to the weight in my chest shifting ever so slightly.

I finished my tea, rinsed the cup, and padded barefoot across the warm kitchen floor to my small dining table—the one I’d rescued from a vintage shop three years ago and painted myself on a rainy weekend. Pale blue, a little chipped at the corners now. I liked it better that way. I pulled out the chair closest to the window, sat down, and reached for my to-do list. Just seeing it calmed me. It was half crossed-out already, scrawled in neat loops across lined paper, right down to things like “pick up more lavender spray” and “replace dying peace lily in reading corner.” I didn’t mind the repetition. Some people found it exhausting. I found it grounding. The structure. The rhythm. The knowledge that every morning, twenty-three little faces would walk through my classroom door, dragging backpacks and half-zipped coats and stories about their cat’s birthday party or a new rainbow shirt.

And today—there’d be one more. Olive Styles. Age three. I hadn’t met her yet. Her father had registered her yesterday, just before the office closed, so I’d only heard the name in passing from Mrs. Keller, the school secretary.

“Sweet-sounding little thing,” she’d said. “He filled everything out perfectly. Very polite. Very…” She’d paused then, lowering her voice even though it was just the two of us. “Put-together.”

I’d smiled, distracted by a stack of coloring books I needed to sort, and hadn’t thought much more of it. At the time. But now, sitting alone in my kitchen with the day stretching ahead of me, I realized I was… curious. Which was ridiculous. Parents came and went. I met them at drop-off, at parent nights, at emergency “your child has a tooth in their pocket again” calls. I didn’t wonder about them. And yet—

I shook it off.

I stood, slipped into my flats, pulled my cardigan from its hook near the door, and took one last glance around the room—everything tidy, everything still. Then I stepped outside.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Holmes Chapel was still half-asleep as I walked into town. The air was cool against my skin, and the streets shimmered faintly with dew. I took the long route, weaving past hedgerows and low stone walls, nodding to the dog walkers I saw every morning. The same faces. The same smiles.

That was the thing about this town—you couldn’t hide in it. Not really. People knew each other. Knew who’d married whom. Who’d left, who’d come back. And in my case, who’d once dated Logan Clark, and who now politely avoided the subject.

I passed Mrs. Whitmore’s house just as she stepped out in her robe and slippers, watering can in hand.

“Morning, love,” she called, not looking up.

“Morning. They’re looking lovely,” I said, nodding at her roses.

“They always bloom early when the weather’s soft,” she replied, and I smiled.

I turned down the high street, already waking up with the scent of fresh bread drifting from the bakery and the soft jingle of the florist unlocking her front door. The bell above the café rang as someone stepped out with a paper bag and a steaming cup. I walked past it all, my pace steady, familiar.

Ten minutes later, I pushed through the iron gate in front of the school and stepped into the quiet hallways of a place that had become more home than anything else. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead as I made my way to my classroom. The moment I unlocked the door, I was hit with the faint scent of lavender spray and children’s markers. I breathed it in like oxygen.

This space—bright, safe, colorful—was where everything felt steady. The paper butterflies we’d made last week still hung from the ceiling, their wings swaying in the faint breeze from the open window. The reading corner cushions were fluffed. The whiteboard still had the words “You Are So Loved” written in big, bubbly letters.

I set down my bag, slipped off my cardigan, and turned on the fairy lights above the bookshelf. Then I got to work. Puzzles out. Name tags in place. Crayons sorted. Paint trays prepped. I moved with the rhythm of someone who’d done this a hundred times and still cared enough to make it feel new. I was adjusting a stack of books when I heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

“Well, well. Look who beat me in.”

I turned to see Mya, leaning against the doorframe, holding two takeaway cups and smiling like she knew something I didn’t.

“Miracles happen,” I said, walking over to take one of the cups. “No more running in at 7:59 like I’ve just escaped a burning building.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked that look on you,” she said, stepping into the room. “A little wild-eyed. Kept the parents on their toes.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m honest.”

She sank into the beanbag in the corner and took a sip of her drink, eyes following me as I rearranged the art supply shelf.

“So,” she said casually. “Today’s the day, yeah?”

I glanced over. “The new student?”

“Olive Styles,” she said, as if she were testing the name out loud.

I nodded. “Starts today.”

Mya grinned. “That’s such a cute kid name. Sounds like someone who wears tiny boots and carries a leaf collection in her pocket.”

“I hope so.”

She gave me a look. “And the dad?”

I blinked. “What about him?”

Mya raised her eyebrows. “You tell me. The name Styles isn’t exactly forgettable.”

I shrugged, turning to face the shelf again. “Mrs. Keller said he filled out everything properly. Sounded polite.”

“That’s code for hot,” she said, sipping her coffee with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s code for ‘I didn’t ask.’”

“Sure. Sure it is.”

I tossed a crayon box at her gently. “Some of us are focused on the children, thank you.”

She laughed, catching it. “You’re such a mum already, it’s scary.”

“Maybe someday.” The words slipped out before I could catch them. I didn’t mean to sound wistful, but there was a silence after that. A breath.

Mya watched me for a beat too long. “You’d be a brilliant mum, you know.”

I smiled, quiet. “Thanks.”

She stood and handed me the empty cup. “Alright, I’ve got to go prep for my own little chaos tornado. But text me if anything interesting happens.”

“Define interesting.”

She grinned. “Tall, dark, and devastating.” And with that, she left.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

HARRY

Olive was already in bed with me when the alarm went off. I didn’t even hear the first buzz. Just felt her small hand tug at my T-shirt, the way she always did in the early hours. Her knees were curled into my side, bunny tucked between us, thumb grazing her bottom lip like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to suck it or not. She never cried out when she came into my room—just showed up, quiet, steady, like her body remembered something her mouth hadn’t quite learned how to say.

I blinked up at the ceiling, still hazy with sleep, then down at her soft curls resting against my chest. It was early. Still grey outside. Still the kind of hush that made you feel like the world hadn’t quite started yet. I liked that part. The stillness. The space between night and day. The part where no one needed anything from me yet. Except for her. I brushed a hand gently down her back, the fabric of her sleep shirt warm from sleep.

“Morning, bug,” I whispered. She didn’t answer, just snuggled closer. Today was her first day. The first day of something new. And it felt… big. Bigger than it should’ve.

It wasn’t just preschool. It was the first time I’d let someone else carry her weight for a few hours. The first time she’d sit in a room full of strangers and look around for a face that wasn’t mine.

I pressed a kiss to her hair. “Think we can be brave today?”

Her breath shuddered out across my chest. Just a tiny sound. She didn’t answer. I didn’t push. We stayed like that for a few more minutes, until the light outside turned a little less grey and a little more gold. Then I sat up slowly, pulling her into my lap.

“Toast and jam?” I asked. She nodded, eyes still heavy. “Milk in the bunny mug?”

She gave me a sleepy thumbs up. I carried her to the kitchen, setting her gently on one of the bar stools. She leaned against the counter with her head in her hands, bunny tucked under one arm, curls wild and matted in the back. I started the toast and turned on the kettle, letting the familiar motions quiet the nerves buzzing under my skin.

The house was still. Not empty—but quieter than it used to be. There were still traces of Becca everywhere. In the way the mugs didn’t match. In the pink apron hanging behind the pantry door. In the stack of kids’ books on the shelf near the fireplace. I hadn’t moved any of it. Couldn’t. Some days, it helped. Some days, it made me want to take a hammer to the walls.

Olive stayed quiet while I made breakfast. I knew she was nervous—could feel it in the way she picked at the hem of her sleeve, in the way she stared at her bunny like it might have answers she didn’t. I set her food down and leaned against the counter across from her.

“You remember we’re going to school today, right?” She nodded, eyes on her plate. “And remember, I’m not leaving until you’re ready.”

Her lips pressed together, like she was thinking hard. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know,” I said gently. “You don’t have to. I’ll be right outside for a little while. And then I’ll come pick you up after lunch, just like we said.”

She took a tiny bite of toast. “Will there be books?”

“Lots.”

“Glue?”

“Probably.”

She looked up. ��The funny-smelling kind?”

I smiled. “The exact one.”

Her shoulders dropped slightly. “Okay.”

I walked over, crouching beside her stool so I was eye-level. “You’re gonna be okay, bug. Just try your best. That’s all.”

She leaned into me, small arms around my neck. “Will Miss be nice?”

I hoped so. “Yeah. I think she will.”

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

We were quiet on the drive. I kept the music soft—something acoustic and familiar—and glanced at her in the rearview mirror every few seconds. She was staring out the window, bunny still in her lap, curls pulled into two low pigtails that I’d clumsily tied myself. Becca used to braid them. Made them look easy. Olive never flinched when Becca did her hair. Now, she only let me do it if I promised to be gentle. And I always tried.

We pulled into the small car park beside the school, and I turned off the engine. Olive looked up at the building. Then back at me. Her bottom lip wobbled. Just once. I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for her.

“You ready to be brave?” She shook her head. “That’s okay,” I said, lifting her carefully from the seat. “You can do it scared, too.”

I carried her toward the building, her arms looped tightly around my neck, bunny squished between us. The school was quiet from the outside, sunlight glinting off the windows, the iron gate just barely ajar. When we reached the door, I paused. She was breathing fast, her forehead pressed to my collarbone.

“Bug,” I whispered, “you’re safe.”

She didn’t let go. But she didn’t pull away either. I adjusted her in my arms, took a deep breath, and opened the door. And there she was.

She turned from the bookshelf when we walked in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The room glowed behind her—fairy lights strung above the shelves, sunlight pooling on the rug, soft music playing from a speaker I couldn’t see. It smelled like lavender and Play-Doh and something warm I couldn’t name.

She looked up at us and smiled. It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t practiced. It was soft. Real. Welcoming in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Hi,” she said, walking toward us. “You’re right on time.”

Her voice was gentle—like she was speaking to both of us at once. Not just Olive. Olive peeked at her from beneath my chin.

“I’m Miss Amara,” she said softly. “But you can call me Miss, if that feels easier.”

Olive didn’t answer, but she didn’t hide, either.

“She’s a bit shy,” I said, my voice lower now, unsure why. “And this is all new.”

“I understand,” Amara said. “She can take all the time she needs.”

I nodded, heart tugging as Olive pressed her face into my neck.

“She brought her favorite book,” I added, reaching into her little backpack and pulling out The Koala Who Could. “And her blanket’s in there, too. Just in case.”

She took the book gently from my hands, her eyes scanning the cover like she recognized it.

“Thank you,” she said. “This helps a lot.”

“She likes the part with the tree,” I said, then caught myself. “Sorry. I know you probably don’t need all that.”

“No,” she smiled. “It’s lovely. I like knowing what matters to her.” She knelt down a little, meeting Olive’s eye line. “I heard you’re very good at puzzles,” she said softly. “I saved a special one for you, if you want to see it.”

Olive didn’t move at first. Then, slowly—so slowly—she turned to look at me.

I nodded, brushing a curl behind her ear. “Want to try?”

She hesitated. Then let her arms fall away from my neck. I crouched down and set her gently on the floor, her bunny still tight in her hands.

“You can bring that,” Amara said. “We like bunnies here.”

Olive blinked at her. Just once. Then followed her toward a little round table covered in puzzle pieces. I stayed by the door, heart full of something I couldn’t name. Amara turned back, eyes meeting mine.

“She’ll be alright,” she said. I believed her.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

AMARA

Olive didn’t say much. But she didn’t cry either. And honestly? That was more than enough.

She sat at the little round table near the windows, gently pressing puzzle pieces into place like it was a task someone had assigned her and she was determined to get it right. I stayed near her for the first ten minutes. I didn’t hover—just tidied nearby, made soft commentary, occasionally pointed out a missing tail or paw. She didn’t respond with words, but every once in a while, she’d glance at me. Just to check I was still there.

Eventually, I drifted across the room to welcome the others. Kids tumbled in—some running, some sleepy, one in tears because her snack box had the wrong sticker on it. The usual chaos. The beautiful, joyful, sticky kind. And all the while, Olive watched. She didn’t join in. But she didn’t shrink away either. She sat with her bunny tucked between her knees and her shoulders squared like she was bracing for something.

About an hour in, I was helping two boys at the paint table when I felt her beside me. Quiet as anything. She held up a small piece of paper. It was her drawing. A tree. A tiny grey shape in the middle. A koala.

I crouched to her level and smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

She pointed to the koala. “Kevin.”

“From your book?” She nodded once. “He looks very brave in your drawing.” She didn’t say anything. But she smiled.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

At snack time, I let her sit beside me. Some of the kids liked crowding together in little clusters on the rug, but Olive stayed close. Not clinging—just nearby. Her bunny sat in her lap while she quietly munched on crackers and watched the others giggle about apples shaped like hearts.

One of the boys—Elliot—came over and plopped down beside her without warning. Olive stiffened.

“That’s mine,” he said, pointing at one of the puzzle blocks she’d brought over earlier.

I turned toward him gently. “She’s using the extra pieces from the bin, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

He frowned. “But I used the yellow one yesterday.”

“She didn’t take it,” I said softly. Olive stayed frozen. I crouched, placing a hand gently on her back. “It’s okay.” She looked at me—those big, searching eyes—and I swear, the tension in her shoulders melted just a little at my touch. I looked to Elliot. “How about you show Olive how you built your tower yesterday? Maybe you can do it together?”

He grumbled, but after a minute, he nodded and scooted closer. Olive glanced at me again, then sat up straighter. She placed the yellow block in front of him. And when he smiled at her, she whispered, “Okay.” It was barely audible. But it was there. And something in me shifted.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The day flowed in soft, colorful waves. We did handprint art with washable paint. I read a story about a dragon who only ate marshmallows. Olive sat closest to the rug’s edge but turned her head toward me with each page. She never interrupted like the others did. Just listened, wide-eyed, taking it all in. She let another little girl braid one of her pigtails. She handed someone a red crayon without being asked. She laughed—once—when someone sneezed glitter by accident.

And for a few precious hours, I didn’t think about Logan. Until I heard my name at the door.

“Amara?” I looked up to see Mrs. Keller peeking in, holding a clipboard. “Phone message for you, love. Not urgent. Just… something to have.”

I stood, brushing paint from my hands, and met her at the door. She handed me the pink slip.

LOGAN, it read in thick, rushed letters.

Called to ask what time you finish today. Said he might stop by.

The breath caught in my throat before I could hide it.

Mrs. Keller’s eyes softened. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I lied. Because what else was I supposed to say?

I tucked the note into the pocket of my cardigan and turned back to the classroom. Olive was watching me. Not with fear. Not with confusion. Just… watching. Like she knew what it looked like when someone got a call that changed the air around them.

I forced a smile. “Time to clean up, sweet pea. Want to help me with the paint lids?” She nodded. Didn’t let go of her bunny. But walked with me anyway.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The clock on the classroom wall ticked closer to one. The sunlight had shifted across the room now, casting warm stripes on the floor where a few kids were finishing their snack. Most had gone home for the day—early pickups and half schedules. Olive was the last still waiting. But she didn’t seem worried.

She sat beside me at the low round table, her bunny perched carefully on the edge, as we sorted puzzle pieces back into their box. She was focused. Calm. And every once in a while, she’d glance at the door. Not anxiously—just waiting. It was only her first day, and somehow, she was already part of this place.

I felt a quiet kind of pride settle in my chest.

When the knock finally came, she didn’t flinch. Just turned her head and smiled before I even stood up. I walked to the door and opened it.

He was there. Harry Styles. His curls were slightly messier than this morning, like he’d run a hand through them too many times. He wore a grey jumper and jeans, his coat unzipped, his shoulders a little more relaxed than they’d been before. But his eyes? Still soft. Still searching.

“Hey,” he said, a little quieter than necessary. “She alright?”

“She’s better than alright,” I said, smiling as I stepped aside. “She’s been brilliant.”

He looked over my shoulder and saw her—tiny, bunny in hand, puzzle box now clutched to her chest. His shoulders dropped a little more. And for a second, something passed between us. Not a moment. Not yet. But a pause. Like he saw me now. Not just as her teacher. As something more.

Olive slid off the chair and padded over in her little pink trainers, curls bouncing softly.

“Daddy,” she said, not with desperation—just warmth.

He crouched and held out his arms, scooping her into a hug. “Hey, bug. You did it.”

She pulled back just enough to show him the puzzle box. “We found the fox.”

“You did?” he said, eyes wide like she’d just announced she’d climbed a mountain.

She nodded, then looked at me. “Miss helped.”

I smiled. “She did most of it herself.”

Harry stood, Olive still perched on one arm. He turned to me with something in his expression that wasn’t just gratitude.

“You’re very good with her,” he said.

“I try to be good with all of them,” I replied gently. “But she made it easy.”

He exhaled through his nose. “She doesn’t usually let go like that. Not since…” He trailed off, glancing down at her. I knew what he was going to say. He didn’t need to finish it.

“I’m glad she felt safe here,” I said.

He looked back at me, and for a second, the noise in the hallway faded. Everything stilled.

“ If she wants to come back tomorrow.” I smiled. “She’ll have her spot waiting.”

He nodded. “Same time?”

“Same time.”

We stood there for a second longer than we needed to. Then Olive tugged gently at his collar. “Can we get the bread with the holes?”

“The bagels?” he asked, already smiling. “Course we can.”

He glanced at me one last time. “Thanks again, Miss Amara.”

I liked the way he said it. Like it mattered. “You’re welcome,” I said. And I meant it.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The classroom emptied slowly. I lingered, like I always did. Wiping down the tables. Tidying the reading corner. Restoring the classroom to the gentle stillness it always held before the day began again.

The sunlight had faded to a softer gold now, stretching long across the floors. I turned off the fairy lights and packed my things with the kind of slow rhythm that comes after a full, good day. I didn’t feel tired. Not the heavy kind. I felt full. Full of little moments. Olive’s soft voice. Her quiet nod. The way Harry had looked at her—and at me—like something new had settled between the three of us and none of us quite had the words for it yet.

I stepped out into the early evening air and started toward the square. I hadn’t planned to stop at the market, but my fridge at home was bare, and the day had left me craving something warm. Something soft. Maybe bread. Or jam. Or chocolate.

The cobblestone paths were glowing under the fading sun as I walked into the village center. The hanging baskets of spring flowers swayed gently in the breeze. A woman walked past with her daughter, holding hands and humming the same tune Olive had been singing under her breath at cleanup time.

The bell above the market door jingled as I stepped inside. It smelled like oranges and pinewood. I made my way to the produce aisle and reached for a basket of strawberries, still thinking about the way Olive had said Miss helped like it meant something deeper.

“Afternoon, Miss Amara.” I turned.

Mr. Beckett stood behind me in his usual green jumper, arms tucked behind his back like he always had something to say.

“Hi, Mr. Beckett,” I said, smiling.

He gave a knowing look. “Heard you’ve got a new one in class.”

I nodded. “Olive Styles.”

He tilted his head. “That’d be Harry’s girl, wouldn’t it? Up by the hill cottages?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Sweet thing, that one. Saw them last week at the bakery. Didn’t say much, but the little girl had her eyes on the pain au chocolat like it held all the answers to the universe.”

I laughed softly. “Sounds like her.”

He leaned on his cane, his voice gentler now. “People talk, you know. Small town and all. Shame what happened to his girl.”

My throat tightened. “Yes.”

“I didn’t know her well,” he went on. “But she had a light to her. That kind of quiet kindness you don’t always see anymore.”

“She must’ve been special,” I said.

He looked at me for a long moment. “You’re one of the good ones, Amara. Always were. That little girl’s lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” I said, the words catching slightly on their way out.

He smiled, tipped his cap, and moved toward the back of the shop. I stood still for a second, basket in my hand, surrounded by fruit and light and the soft hum of old music playing overhead.

I didn’t know what I was feeling. But it was something. Something warm. Something real.

I grabbed a loaf of bread, a jar of raspberry jam, and—without thinking—a bar of chocolate I didn’t need but wanted anyway.

When I stepped back outside, the sun had slipped behind the rooftops, and the sky was washed in pale pink and lavender. And even though the air had cooled, something lingered in my chest. Not warmth. Not yet. But the sense that maybe—just maybe—something had shifted. And when it did… I’d be ready.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

HARRY

Olive fell asleep before I finished the dishes. She was curled sideways on the couch in her unicorn pajamas, one hand tucked under her cheek and the other still wrapped around her bunny’s floppy ear. I didn’t move her right away. I just stood in the doorway, watching her chest rise and fall in that slow, even rhythm that only came when she was truly safe.

The house was dim now, lit only by the lamp in the corner and the glow of the kitchen light. There was music playing low on the speaker—something soft with strings—but I couldn’t hear it clearly over the noise in my head.

I’d done it. We’d done it. Day one.

She’d gone to school, let go of my hand, sat at a table beside strangers, and smiled at her teacher. She’d come home with purple marker smudged on her fingertips and told me about Kevin the koala like it was the most important story in the world.

And she’d said she wanted to go back. That part broke me a little. In a good way. I sat on the floor beside the couch, letting my hand rest gently on her foot. Just enough to feel her warmth. I thought about Becca. About how proud she would’ve been. How she’d probably cry and then pretend not to. How she’d make cupcakes for the whole class after week one and write me a to-do list I didn’t ask for.

I closed my eyes and let the ache come and go like it always did. Then I opened them again. And saw Olive’s sketchbook on the coffee table. I flipped it open slowly, expecting crayon scribbles. But there it was. A tree. A koala. And below it, written in crooked three-year-old letters, a name.

Miss.

And just like that, Amara’s face filled my mind again—her quiet voice, her steady gaze, the way she’d crouched beside Olive like she’d known exactly what to say and exactly when to say nothing at all. I didn’t know why she stayed with me like that. But she did. And something about it felt a little like the beginning of something I wasn’t sure I deserved.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

AMARA

I sat on the couch in my comfiest socks with a cup of tea cooling beside me and my feet tucked beneath a throw I’d had since university.

The house was quiet. Lavender-scented. Dim except for the reading lamp behind me. I should’ve been grading. Or planning. Or sleeping. But my thoughts kept circling back to her. To Olive. To the way she’d looked up at me after storytime with a crayon in one hand and her bunny tucked under the other.

And—maybe more than that—to him. To the softness in his voice when he said her name. To the look in his eyes when she reached for my hand. To the quiet that settled between us like something shared.

My phone buzzed with a text from Mya.

MYA: Sooo… how was the dad?

I smiled, shaking my head and picked up the phone—only to see another notification above hers. One I didn’t open.

LOGAN: Still pretending I don’t exist? You know I can always find you.

I locked the screen. Pushed the chill back down. Then opened Mya’s message instead.

AMARA: Polite. Thoughtful. The kind of guy who remembers which page in the koala book his daughter loves most.

MYA: Oh no. You like him.

AMARA: I don’t know him.

MYA: Yet.

I put the phone down and leaned my head back against the cushion. The warmth from the tea drifted into the air, sweet and steady. And somewhere beneath the comfort of the night and the quiet hum of my house, I felt it again. That shift. That pull. That soft, slow opening. Something new. Something gentle. Something I didn’t have a name for yet.

But maybe— Maybe when I’m ready, I’ll let it in.

[purplecoffee13]

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 1

Summary: “You got cheated on, and Harry is the one your ex cheated with. You hate him, he hates you, and the universe seems to hate the both of you, because you keep being thrown into the same spaces.”

Wc: 3.3k

Tropes: enemies to lovers

Warning: mentions of cheating, foul language

A/N: Hey guys! I’m going to see Taylor this weekend, but I wanted to give you the first part of my new series before I log off for the weekend. I know Harry is sounding quite unlikable, because he is, but it is a slow burn so give it some time and let him explain!!!!! Enjoy xxx

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 is up!!!

It has been almost three weeks since you and your ex-boyfriend Dylan have broken up. You were heartbroken when you found out he cheated on you, and you still aren't over it in even the slightest. It was just unfathomable to you. How could he cheat on you and just step from one relationship into another?

Yes, that's right, Dylan immediately started dating the guy he cheated on you with. You couldn't believe when you first heard who it was, but it also didn't surprise you much.

Harry has had it out for you from the moment you and Dylan first started dating. You had no idea why, but now that those two are together, you finally understand. He was jealous of you. He wanted Dylan all to himself and— well, he succeeded. The fucking prick.

You had been trying to get over the humiliation and sadness, but it proved to be very hard. You had been in love with Dylan for so long, long before the two of you even started dating, and it was your first real relationship. You couldn't just move on that quickly.

But you were done. Done with crying and whining and bitching about it. It was like some sort of switch had turned, like the first stage of the moving on process had worn out. It was time to try some other methods of getting over Dylan. You finally took the advice from your friends, and tonight was your first date since the break-up.

You had downloaded tinder, and found yourself multiple matches. One guy named Brady, asked you out for drinks tonight, and you said yes. And so, the second stage of moving on commenced.

Now you're in one of the bar's booths, waiting for Brady to show up. He was handsome in his pictures, and he seems like a nice guy. You fiddle with your hands as you wait. You know that if something is going to happen between the two of you, it won't be serious or permanent, but you can't help but be nervous anyway.

You agreed to meet up at nine, and right now it's ten minutes past nine. A pit grows in your stomach as you sip on your beer. He wouldn't be standing you up, would he?

You wait and wait until it's a quarter to ten, and tears prickle in your eyes. What a disaster. How could you even think that this was a good idea?

You flag down a waitress and pay for the beers you drank as you waited. It isn't until you stand up that you realize how many it were. You are quite the lightweight, so five beers on a stomach filled with only a salad for dinner wasn't the best idea.

You walk out of the bar, and grab your phone to order an Uber. That is when you spot someone sitting on the bench in front of the bar, and you groan aloud.

Sitting on the stupid bench is stupid Harry, the guy which Dylan cheated on you with. Out of all people, you just had to run into him. He looks up upon hearing you groan, and the distaste on his face at the sight of you almost makes it look like you're the one Dylan cheated with on him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Harry asks, putting a cigarette to his mouth, and holding a lighter to it to turn it on.

"To ruin your relationship with your boyfriend— Oh no wait, that was you! Asshole..." You mutter as you roll your eyes. You turn around, almost falling over at the speed with which you did, but you are quick to steady yourself. You squint at your screen as you search for the Uber app in your phone.

"Fuck you." Harry murmurs under his breath, and you flip him off without turning around. You don't want to be around this guy, so you start walking away from him. Might as well warm yourself up as you wait for your Uber to arrive. If you can find the damn app...

Then a car honks and before you have time to look up, you are pulled into someone's arms. You look up from your phone and see a white car driving by, still honking at you, and when you turn around to see who is holding you, Harry's eyes meet yours. Once having regained your senses, you push him away.

"Get off of me!" You growl at him, dropping your phone accidentally.

"Are you stupid?! How fucking pissed are you to not notice a car coming straight at you—" Harry barks back at you as he picks up your phone, and hands it to you. You snatch it away, disgusted with the fact that he is touching your stuff.

"Shut up!" You shout at him with a wavering voice, too overwhelmed by everything. You are on the brink of crying. He seems to notice and quiets down.

"I'll bring you home." He mumbles softly, after you had time to breathe for a second and steady yourself. You frown at him, looking for even the slightest hint of deception—because what else is there to the guy who your boyfriend cheated on you with—but you can't find it.

"You are the last person I would ever step into a car with." You glare at him, crossing your arms. Harry rolls his eyes.

"You think you're my number one choice? No, but I'm not gonna let your drunk ass get run over." He argues back, seeming to be equally as irritated with you as you are with him.

"Yeah, because you're the picture of decency and chivalry." You cross your arms. The nerve of this guy! Trying to be all gentleman like when you know that he is nothing more than a pig.

Harry clenches his jaw, and you can tell he is ready to snap at you. You are waiting for him to start cussing you out—and there is a clear hesitation in his eyes—but he doesn't follow through. He merely sighs.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into my car. Because contrary to what you might believe, I do have some common decency, but I am not going to leave you outside a pub, drunk and alone." Harry explains, trying to catch your eyes as best as he can but you are avoiding his stare, afraid to see the sincerity behind them. "So, I either bring you home, or wait for an Uber with you."

You think it over for a few seconds, but your train of thought is interrupted when your name is shouted from a distance. You look in the way where the sound came from, and see Rebecca—a friend from class—wave at you with a big smile on her face. You wave, then turn back to Harry.

"Fuck. you."

You articulate the words slowly, hoping they marinate in his head, as you glare him down with the genuine spite you have felt from the moment you were made aware of the betrayal. You don't give him the chance to respond or even process what you just said, you just walk away.

You don't look back at Harry either, because you are sure that the hint of guilt that presses down on your chest is translating to your face, but you don't want to give in to it. Dylan betrayed you, and while he is the more culpable one in the situation, Harry did this too. He knew you and Dylan were together, and he still did what he did. The guilt transforms into a sadness as your mind wonders, how much did he have to hate you to do this to you?

You shake off the thought and paint a smile on your face as you reach Rebecca. She pulls you into an embrace and asks you how you are doing, and you answer that you're doing well.

"Was that... Harry?" She asks, whispering his name as if it would be a crime to say it out loud. The corner of your mouth tugs up.

"Yup." You nod.

"What did he want from you?" She glares at the place where Harry stands— or stood, because by the time you turn around, he is gone. You stare at the pavement, your body trying to push away that wave of emotional pain that seeing Harry instigated.

"I have no idea."

*************** *************** ***************

Few days later

You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity desk. Lipstick still in hand, you analyze your own face. Your make-up sits pretty on your face, painting the image of a woman who has her life together. But the truth couldn't be further from that.

Tonight, you're attending a birthday dinner of one of your friends, Benjamin, in a restaurant in the city. You truly were looking forward to it, but now that you and Dylan aren't together anymore, the fun event has turned into something you have been dreading.

You got to know Dylan through Benjamin. Benjamin was in your first project group ever at Uni. The two of you bonded and have been very close ever since. Benjamin is the type of person that knows a lot of people, and Harry is one of those people

Harry and Benjamin went to high school together. At least, that's what Benjamin told you when he introduced you to Harry at that one party all those years ago. It was at a random fraternity party on campus at the end of the first year, and it is where you met Dylan. Harry and him were roommates, so they had come together.

It was a cobweb of connections, and you have met a lot of people through Benjamin, but you really clicked with Dylan that night. Of course, now that doesn't seem to hold any value anymore, but you can't change the night you met Dylan into a rotten memory. It is sealed with some kind of glass that will always keep it pretty, innocent, sweet, and— well, just lovely.

It's what is going to make it extra hard to see Dylan with Harry tonight. You were happy to celebrate the birthday of your friend, of course, but you definitely weren't looking forward to seeing your ex and the guy he cheated on you with be together, as like— a couple.

You were aware that things like this would happen eventually—because that's what happened when you date someone in the friend group—but that doesn't make it easier. Luckily, a lot of your other friends will be there too.

Rebecca picks you up a good half hour before the dinner starts, and you drive into the city with music blasting through the speakers. You try to clear your head by letting the music take over every part of your brain, but the anxious pit in your stomach can't seem to be contained.

After parking the car a bit further down the street, you and Rebecca make your way to the Italian restaurant. You're about five minutes late—the traffic was worse than expected—so you both hurry over to the corner where the others are already sitting and chatting.

Benjamin gasps when he sees you and pulls you in for a big hug. You smile and congratulate him before handing him the bag which contains his gift. While he turns around and places it on the table, you take the opportunity to scan the room. It doesn't take long to spot Harry—you had felt his presence since you got here—but your eyes can't seem to find Dylan.

You don't allow yourself to feel any relief, as there might be a chance he is still in the bathroom. But when Benjamin tells everyone to sit down, placing you on his left and Harry on his right, you see that all the chairs are filled. Apparently Benjamin senses your confusion, because he leans in and whispers in your ear:

"He didn't come."

The words grant an overwhelming release of emotions that were making you feel like shit, and you start feeling like maybe you can enjoy tonight after all. Partly, at least. You frown; It is weird that Dylan wouldn't come to Benjamin's birthday. He was invited; you were next to him when he got the text.

You take a deep breath and decide that this isn't something you should be focusing on tonight. Alas, you are freed from the fucker for now. You should least enjoy it while you can.

You are seated next to Benjamin, on his left side. Harry is seated on his right side, keeping you apart. Since you are both important to Benjamin, he wants the two of you close to him, but not to each other.

The first course comes around pretty fast, and along with the two glasses of wine you down in record time, everything seems to be going quite smoothly. You avoid any contact whatsoever with Harry, and try to be as invested in Benjamin as you can.

After the main course, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and sneak away from the watchful eyes of the others. Instead of going to the bathroom, you go outside and light up a cigarette. It is an unfortunate habit you have began succumbing to since everything that happened. The smoking takes your mind off the stress for a couple of minutes, and it is the only thing that has kept you from going insane.

"Are you smoking?" A voice filled with disbelief asks from behind you. You freeze when you recognize the depth of it, along with the unmistakable accent. Well, there goes the cathartic part of smoking that cigarette.

You don't turn around, and so Harry walks up to you in order to check whether it is really you. He frowns at the sight of you with cigarette.

"Thought you hated smoking." He throws in the comment like it's nothing. But it isn't. You hear the resentment hidden in every word that comes out of his mouth. The grudge that he has held against you from the moment you two met is something you think needs to be studied. To this day, you have no idea what you did to make him so mad at you. But instead of worrying about it like you used to do, you are getting annoyed by it.

"Shitty times call for shitty measures." You take another drag from the cigarette before putting out the bud and throwing it in the bin. You are about to go back inside when a collection of bravely morbid words leave Harry's mouth.

"You don't have to act like I murdered your entire family." Harry growls, clenching his jaw as he reaches for his own cigarettes in his pocket. You turn around to him, thunder written all over your face.

"What did you say to me?" You ask slowly, taking a few steps towards him. Harry doesn't see it, as he is also searching for his lighter.

"Look, I know I did a shitty thing but..." His words come to a halt when he sees how much closer you are to him than before, and you don't miss the hint of shock in his eyes.

"But what, hmm? But it's not that bad? But I don't have to be such a bitch about it? But I shouldn't let it influence my behavior towards you? Is that what you were gonna say?" You ask him as you push against his chest a bit, urging him to answer you.

"I was gonna say—"

"I don't give a shit about what you think about my behavior. You didn't give a shit your behavior when you went behind my back and fucked my boyfriend, now did you?" You pose the question, rhetorically. Harry just sighs. "Yeah, I thought so... I can't believe you have the nerve to try and tell me how I should handle you and your new boyfriend fucking me over. Don't do shitty things if you're gonna cry about the consequences. And especially don't go crying to me about."

Harry doesn't look at you, but the tension in his jaw makes you brace yourself for an outburst of some kind. You did pretty much still him to the ground just now. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Harry says something unexpected.

"He's not my boyfriend."

You physically take a step back, genuine confusion on your face. What? You were certain that Dylan and Harry were together. It had been all over campus after you first broke up.

"He— he cheated on me. Broke up with me a couple days ago." Harry confessed, still not meeting your eyes. A whole lot of nothingness fills your organs as you stare at him. You have no idea what you are supposed to feel right now. The overwhelming amount of emotions has turned into one empty space that leaves room for nothing but a blank stare.

You feel like you're supposed to laugh at him—in your head at least—and tell him that he had it coming. He did, of course, but you just didn't expect it to happen so soon. You had no idea that Dylan was such a loose canon. At least you are rid of him, that is one positive thing about this whole messed up situation.

Nevertheless, anything that you think you are supposed to feel, is not there. There is no relief, or joy, or lightness that brings a cocky smile to your face as you soak in the karma that was clearly on your side here. No, you are filled with a dull ache that you recognize to be faint sadness. It's too distant to drown in but the familiarity of it still manages to make it sting a little bit.

Harry takes a deep breath, waiting for whatever you are going to say. You can tell that he mentally preparing himself for the humiliation to come, and as much as you'd like to give it to him, you can't find it in yourself to do so.

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Th— thanks..." Harry responds slowly, not sure how serious to take your words. You know he was expecting an entirely different reaction.

"I know I had it coming." He adds with a a hint of frustration that makes it seem like you already told him that. Of course, you had the comment in your back pocket already.

"I mean... I wasn't gonna say it so soon, but—"

"Yeah, I thought we would get it out of the way." Harry interrupts you with an annoyed smile. Your previously sad face had turned into more of a smug one and it was more than he could bear, so he just had to say it before you did. He didn't want you to rub it in his face.

Silence creeps upon the two of you. Awkwardly, you stare into the distance as you ponder the new information. It made Dylan even more of a dick than you already thought him to be.

At first, you had thought that Dylan cheated on you because he was in love with someone else— Harry. And while it is still unacceptable, it seems less heartless than cheating with no other intention but sexual pleasure. You could see in Harry's eyes that he didn't expect Dylan to cheat on him, so he must've thought it was love. But it wasn't. That just makes it more shitty than it already was. You find the stinging feeling of sympathy entering your chest when you think of Harry, but you don't want to feel that about him, so you squint at him.

"I still hate you, you know." You say to him.

"Right back at ya, sweetheart."

[paulyenvol6]

Against All Odds (Masterlist & Moodboard)

Hey, I have written a little mini series that I'd like to share with you. I'll probably post one chapter every day and the whole story contains of about 15,000 words.

It's Harry x reader and at first I want to post my moodboard, as well as a short summary. Hope you enjoy x

Right before the beginning of the tour Mitch has health issues and that’s why y/n takes his place last minute. But unfortunately Harry and y/n can’t stand each other and can’t even be in the same room. But after unexpectated events things seem to change a little...

Only read if you're 18+

Contains: detailed smut, fingering, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), edging, overstimulating, angst, fighting, soft dom Harry, mentions of losing virginity, inexperienced and virgin reader, aftercare, fluff Before each chapter I'll give detailed trigger warning so read with caution :)

contains smut: *

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5 (Final Chapter) *

[backtothefanfiction]

As It Was

Summary: Javier has finally come back home, hoping his new demons from Columbia will drown out the ones he originally ran away from. Unfortunately, he’s not having much luck.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: mentions of a car accident and relative/old girlfriend death

(This is just an introductory chapter, but other chapters may include smut. All will be marked with correct warnings)

A/N: this has been sat in my drafts for a couple weeks now. I had hoped to write the whole thing and drop it in one go, but seeing as I’m back to writing my book I don’t know when I’ll come back to it and it’s too good not to share. I was going to make this a reader insert however the opportunity to use Taylor Swift songs and do perspectives from the female characters perspective labelled Taylor’s Version was too good an opportunity to pass so it is an OFC fic (I hope that’s okay). Anyway this is the first in this little mini series inspired by Harry Styles songs and I hope you enjoy. So without further ado, welcome to Javi’s House!

ONE : As It Was

Javier didn’t want to come home. He’d been running for so long he didn’t even know what home was anymore. He wasn’t a complete asshole so of course he had been back once or twice to visit his Dad; but whenever he had, he had never actually left the farm. That was unless he absolutely had to, or he was headed back to the airport to travel to wherever the DEA sent him next.

For the longest time, Javier thought his demons from everything that happened back home would forever haunt him and be his boogeyman, but after nearly 15 years working for the DEA and his countless years spent in Columbia, everything back home finally felt like the lesser of two evils. So here he was, back living on his Father’s ranch, hoping that the moment he set foot back in town, it would be easier than when he was 21.

“Ey, hijo,” Chucho said, slapping a hand on his son’s shoulder over the back of the couch, “what do you want for dinner? I’m gonna call down to Annette’s, grab something to take out tonight.”

Javier rubbed at his face as he tried to remember who Annette was and what type of restaurant she had. Annette had been a school friend of his Father’s. She’d opened up a small bar and restaurant in town back in the 60’s. They usually had local talent playing on a stage in the corner on weekends and Javier had many memories as a child of being taken there as a kid.

“That place still open?” Javier frowned slightly as he looked back at his Father to find he had stepped away to potter in the open plan kitchen on the far side of the house, getting himself a scrap of paper and pen to note down the order ready to call.

“Yeah,” Chucho sighed as he made his way back over to Javi, a slightly pained expression on his face that he attempted to hide. His father’s health had been yet another reason why Javier had come home. He knew his Father was stubborn. They’d spoken multiple times over the years about either hiring some help or his Father selling up and retiring properly; but the ranch had been his parent’s dream and he knew his father would never give it up before he completely ran himself into the ground first. “You know,” Chucho added, “they did it up last year, looks really nice. Annette’s aunt died and left her some money, so they spent it on doing the place up. Looks real modern and nice. They redid the stage and everything.”

“Nice.” Javier nodded nonchalantly as he turned his head back towards the TV and the evening news. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to step out of his old life completely. And every time he saw the boats on the river at the back of his Father’s property, it only made things worse.

“I’m gonna order the ribs.” Chucho said to himself proudly, as if he was getting himself a real treat, as he flicked through a leaflet in his hands. Annette’s place was more of a cafe by day, bar and restaurant by evening; and although she had long stopped doing take out food in the evening, she always made an exception for Chucho. “What about you, Javi?”

“Huh?” Javier said, struggling to pull himself away from the TV, “Ribs? Yeah, sounds good.”

“Eh, son,” Chucho sighed, looking from Javier to the TV, “you should really stop watching that crap. Your life is here now-”

“I know, but-”

“But- nothing.” Chucho said, reaching for the remote and turning the TV off. “Aye, Javi,” he sighed again, feeling pity for his son. He knew things hadn’t been easy for him over the years; losing his mother, the accident, his life fighting that mad man Escobar- he just wished his son still believed that he could have peace and a happy life- like he did- but Chucho knew better. He knew how much his wife’s death had affected the way he had raised his son alone. His own demons bleeding through, teaching Javi to hold on, instead of letting go.

“Why don’t you go into town to pick it up.” Chucho suggested, “See how different things are there for yourself. You’ll soon see things aren’t the same as they once was.”

Javier was reluctant, but in the end agreed. After all, he had chosen to come back and live here for good now. He couldn’t just hide away anymore.

▙▚▜▞▙■▞▟ ▚▜▞▙■▞▟ ▚▜▞▙■▞▟

The last time Javier had gone into town, it had still looked like it had in his youth. Paint chipped murals on the side of buildings. Flaking paint around the edges of shop windows. Certain shops, long boarded up, others more recently shut for good. But a recent benefactor had invested a lot of money into doing the place up. New trendy shops and cafes lined the street, scattered amongst the old familiar traders such as the butcher’s and the fishmongers- there was even an arcade now for the local kids. As Javier pulled into a spot at the side of the road, just a little ways up from Annette’s, he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on a particular hair salon across the road.

The last time he had seen it, it had still been boarded up, remnants of the smashed headlights and brick, still scattered amongst the broken glass of the shop window from where the car had spun out of control and driven straight into it.

The memory burned through him, the sound of the car horn from how her body had slumped against the steering wheel, suddenly echoed in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and forced the memory to go away, attempting to replace it with the memories of more recent horrors. ‘It’ll get better he told himself’, as he composed himself once more, shaking off all of the memories and climbing from the cab of his truck. He can still feel the memory haunting and calling for him to look back, but the sounds of the crowd and music down the road at Annette’s called louder- along with a need for Annette’s famous ribs in Jack Daniel’s BBQ sauce.

As he steps closer, he sees what his Father meant. Annette really has done the place up. The old windows now fold open, people spilling out onto tables under a veranda on the street. Quirky halogen bulb string lights go back and forth in lines, both inside and outside. All of the old tables and chairs have been replaced, making way for new freshly sanded pine tables and benches with metal legs and where the old stage used to be a small thing tucked in the corner, it now spans most of the right wall inside. The bar itself didn't look too much different, the stools were the same old beer bottle top inspired seats, but all the taps looked new, including a couple extras for some local craft beers.

The place was heaving, people chatting loudly over background music from the jukebox whilst a few members of a band began setting themselves up on stage. Javier checked his watch- five minutes to seven- the live music on the weekends always started at seven, nice to know some things hadn’t changed.

“Hi, can I help.” A cheerful young voice said from behind the bar, drawing Javier’s attention away from the stage and back to the task at hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he said to the blonde who couldn’t be that much older than 21 herself, “I’m picking up an order for Chucho.” he shouted back across to her.

“Oh you must be Javi,” she smiled, “Annette said you’d be stopping by, she said you’d just gotten back from Columbia.”

“Uh, yeah.” Javier gave her a polite but small smile that told her he didn’t really want to talk about it.

She hesitated a second, not sure how to respond, “Uh, I’ll just go back and check on the food for you.” she quickly said uncomfortably, as she began to make her way out through a door on the far right side of the bar.

Javier rubbed at his face and sighed. He felt bad for making her uncomfortable, she was only doing her job, but he had always found small talk arbitrary.

A sudden tap, tap, tapping on a microphone burst through the speakers and Javier found himself turning, along with the rest of the patrons of Annette’s, towards the stage where a guy- not too younger than Javier- now stood center stage, ready to announce the band.

“How we all doing tonight?” the man cried and the crowd, scattered around the bar, began to hoot and holler and whistle. “I’m glad to hear it!!!” he replied and the crowd began to settle a little. “Now, although we all know you love coming out for Annette’s signature sauce, we know you come out on a Friday for these guys even more!” He said, and the crowd began to holler again, as a young brunette climbed up onto the stage behind him, nodding and smiling to her bandmates, as the guy from Annette’s continued to introduce them. “So without further ado, their your favorites and ours, give it up, for BlueBirds on a Wireeeeee!!”

The lights went down and a couple of spotlights switched on, illuminating the stage and when the young woman who fronted the group stepped forward, Javier was sure he was looking at a ghost. “Good evening everyone, we’re so happy to be back here at Annette’s to entertain ya’ll this evening,” she beamed and the crowd roared as the band began to play the intro to a Dolly Parton country classic, “ To get everybody going we thought we’d start with a good ol’ country sing-a-long!” she continued to encourage the crowd. “Are you ready?!” The crowd cheered back- before they all began to sing Jolene.

Javier couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She looked and sounded just like- the sound of the door behind the bar swinging open and closed behind him, broke Javier from his thoughts. “Here you go. Two portions of ribs with extra chips and onion rings.” the young blond said, placing a white plastic bag on top of the bar.

Caught off guard, Javier quickly scrambled around in the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. “Uh, how much is it?” he asked loudly over the band and the singing crowd.

“Don’t worry about it.” the blond said back, “Annette says she owes Chucho anyway.”

“Oh, okay.” Javier said, reaching to grab the handles of the carrier bag, as the singing of the crowd grew louder.

‘Jolene, Jolene, JOLENE, JOLEEENNEE, I’M BEGGING OF YOU PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY MAN!”

“Wow,” Javi said, looking from the crowd, back to the young woman behind the counter, “is it always like this?”

She smiles, “When the Bluebird’s play? Yes!” she shouted back over the noise, before she went back to wiping the bar top and unloading glasses from the washer.

Javier knew he should leave, get the food back home to his Dad before it went cold, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself away. Whether it was the comradery of the crowd, a sense of family and belonging he hadn’t felt in a long time, or the memory that currently stood before him on the stage he wasn’t sure.

When the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause, causing the brunette on stage to take a small bow, before she gave a small wave to a couple regulars who sat near the front of the stage.

When the crowd finally died down, she brought the microphone back up to her lips. “Now, as you all know, it’s been 20 years now since I lost my older sister, not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. So, if it’s alright with you, for our next song, I’d like to sing an original piece we’ve written in her memory called ‘Summer’, is that alright with you?” she cried into the crowd and they all clapped and whistled in support.

Smiling, if not a little teary eyed from the support, the young brunette stepped back from the microphone to where the guitarist of the band held out an acoustic guitar for her, that she slipped over her head. She gave him a small smile and a nod before she stepped back up to the microphone stand again and the crowd gave another cheer of support. She cleared her throat, strummed a G chord once, as if to ready herself, then she began to play.

The summer breeze, reminds me of how things used to be,

Holding hands and climbing trees, mhmmm,

You showed me how and helped me get back on my feet,

When I would fall and scrape my knees, mhmm,

Drinking grape sodas we would laugh in the back of the car,

The windows down we would sing, though we never went far, oh’

As the chorus kicked in, so did the rest of the band.

In the stars I will see you on those summer nights,

Running through the park chasing neon lights,

Laughing in the dark and those weekend fights,

Being with you all day and all night

Kissing in the dark like I couldn’t see

Showing how to love and setting me free

Summer you’ll be standing right next to me

Forever, forever for the world to see.

As the brunette sang, her lyrics triggered memory after memory- until it all fell into place. Him, Summer and her younger sister Taylor, running around in the park chasing fireflies. Summer’s favorite drink he used to buy for her before he went to pick her up. Sneaking kisses when she thought her younger sister wasn’t looking. Her late night calls after she had put her younger sister to bed so she could talk about her parent’s arguing. That’s why he had felt like he’d seen a ghost when she had stepped on stage. Taylor had grown into the spitting image of her sister, singing songs and keeping her memory alive for many more years to come.

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

i was made for loving you - smau mini series masterlist *ON HOLD*

summary: your ex lando fumbles you. harry won’t make that same mistake.

pairings: lando norris x ex!reader x harry styles

fc: gracie abrams

vicious speaks: this is my first mini series and my first f1 crossover so pls go easy on me 💗 expect an update every friday and sneak peeks every wednesday!

main masterlist

───────── ❤︎ ─────────

❀ chapter one

❀ chapter two

❀ chapter three

❀ chapter four

❀ chapter five

[harryslittlefreakk]

favourite crime

summary: a chance meeting between y/n and her professor leads to a dare… which leads to a forbidden affair neither of them will forget

wordcount: 8k!!!! can you even believe it!!

warnings: smut (exhibitionism, foreplay) , inappropriate relationship (lol)

a/n: i love professorry & you guys voted for this one so i hope i’ve done him justice! this was going to be a one shot but i wrote so much more than i planned lol so it will be a mini series. please let me know if you enjoy <3

my masterlist and taglist can be found here 🥰

“I’ll give you £50 if you go over there.”

“Not a chance, Courtney. I’m not sacrificing my education for £50.”

“I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the year then.”

You wrapped your hands around your glass, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes had been glued to the back of your professor’s head since he arrived, jitters coursing through your body. He’d stayed frozen at the bar the entire time, a neat whiskey in one hand and his nose deep in a book.

“He’s so fucking sexy,” you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you watched the way his tongue jutted out just slightly, wetting his finger so he could turn the page. “Alright, wish me luck,” you beamed at your friend, sliding out of the booth.

You wove through the crowd around the bar, making sure to stay out of Harry’s sight. Your voice was barely audible as you ordered two drinks, a spicy marg for you and a neat whiskey for him. Even the roar of music and chatter was dimmed as your heart pounded in your ears, still watching Harry like a hawk in case he was suddenly joined by a girlfriend.

The coast was clear when you got the drinks, the barstool next to him still invitingly empty. You turned back to your table, pulling a mock nervous grimace as you held the drinks up in the air. After a final check for anyone heading towards Harry, you decided to make your move.

“What would a handsome young man like you be doing here alone?” you teased, slipping into the seat next to Harry as you set down a new drink in front of him. His eyes lingered on his book for a second before looking over at you, an expectant smirk quickly replaced by a frown.

“Miss y/l/n,” was all he managed to say, his mouth drying up as he scanned your body, green eyes lingering just a second too long when they met your cleavage.

“Professor Styles,” you replied, tapping the rim of your glass against his. “Cheers.”

“It’s wildly inappropriate to buy your professor a drink,” he told you, voice stern but a small smile playing on his lips.

You turned away from him, craning your neck to look around the bar. His eyes followed yours, brows knitted when you eventually looked back at him with a satisfied grin. “Just checking. No university higher ups here, so you’re free to act inappropriately.”

“Thank you for the drink,” Harry smiled, folding over a corner of the page he was reading before reluctantly closing the book.

You snatched it from his grasp, a mocking gasp falling from your lips as you flicked through the tattered book. Almost every page was dog-eared, the spine broken and sellotaped back together, half the book bent out of shape from water damage. “You’re an English teacher. And you treat your books this way?”

He chuckled, stretching out an open hand to silently ask for his book back. You clutched it close to your chest, hands splayed across the book to protect it from his touch. “You can’t be trusted with it anymore.”

“This is so inappropriate,” Harry muttered, covering his smirk with a tanned hand as he shook his head. Every second you spent at his side felt like a step closer to unemployment, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn you away. After all, you were in a bar out of town, and the likelihood of anyone seeing you was low.

You grabbed a napkin while he mused, pulling him out of his thoughts when you shoved a hand into the pocket of his slacks. Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise as you pulled out a pen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He couldn't help the rush of adrenaline he felt at your touch, sparks tingling where your fingers had brushed against his thigh, the silk lining of his pocket suddenly warm.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as he leaned one elbow against the bar. "I think it's time you head back," he said, his husky voice tinged with a mix of amusement and apprehension. The tension between you was palpable, and he knew he needed to put some distance between you before things went too far.

You scribbled something on the napkin, folding it in half and slotting it into Harry’s book, taking time to lovingly smooth out the crease he had folded into it before handing it back to him.

“Nice seeing you, Professor,” you winked, downing the remainder of your cocktail and setting the glass down next to his book before making your way back over to your table.

Harry watched as you sauntered back, your hips swaying in time with the music. There was an air of danger about you that lingered just out of his reach, intrigue creeping through his bones. He’d noticed your natural charm from the day you joined his class, the way you were a friend to everyone who gave you as much as a glance, and an enemy only to the girls who cared more for their looks than their popularity. You’d always submitted good papers, asked important questions, and listened when he asked you to stop your incessant chatting to the people around you. But he’d never noticed this side of you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could go without it.

With a final glance over in your direction, Harry finished his whiskey and stalked out of the bar, desperate to cool off before he got carried away with the idea of you.

By the time you looked over at him, he was gone, and your friend was interrogating you about what had happened.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, drawing on your greatest acting skills to feign a pout.

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Courtney poked, grinning excitedly as your frown morphed into a smirk.

“You can’t tell anyone, I mean it.”

“Swear on my life.”

“I gave him my number,” you grinned, unable to keep your cool for even a minute.

Courtney gasped, banging her hand down on the table. “You didn’t!”

“I did. But I don’t think he’ll use it,” you laughed, silently hoping that he would.

—

You’d checked your phone the entire way home, waiting for a text that might never come. But the second you climbed into bed, reluctantly accepting your love affair had died a premature death, your phone let out the most glorious little ding it ever would.

unknown number: did you get home safe?

You thrashed around the bed for a second, jaw snapping so low it could have smacked against the floor. You read and reread the message, eyes wandering over every letter.

y/n: safe and alone if that’s what you’re asking

You watched as the little white dots appeared and disappeared, over and over again, until they finally vanished for good.

But you’d already taken it further than you’d ever planned to, so you added Harry’s number to your contacts, and called him.

He answered after a few rings, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“And you shouldn’t be answering,” you teased, giddy at the realisation that you were now having a late night phone call with the hottest man on the planet.

“How else am I going to tell you how inappropriate this is?” Harry sighed, though you could hear the reluctant amusement lacing his words.

You rolled onto your front, grinning at your phone like a love drunk teenager. “You can tell me to back off if you really want,” you offered, fingers crossing in a desperate plea for him to do the exact opposite.

He stayed silent for a minute, the cogs almost audible as he weighed up the pros and cons. “It’s already gone this far,” he murmured eventually. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink and the bookmark.”

You bit down on your lip in a desperate attempt to control your grin from splitting your face clean in half. “That’s two gifts from me now, what do I get from you?”

“You get to keep your education and not be reported to every higher up there is,” Harry laughed.

“And what else?” With every word you felt like you were falling deeper into cuckoo land. It was so out of character for you, never the one to blindly make your move on a man. And not just a man, the professor you’d harboured a juvenile crush on for the entire academic year.

“Nothing else. You’re bad news,” Harry replied. You pictured him sitting with his phone in hand, a stern frown and warm smirk juxtaposed on his chiseled face.

“Am I really?”

“Definitely.” Even the sound of his voice had you weak at the knees. You’d never make it through tomorrow’s lecture, melted to a puddle in your seat within five minutes.

“Maybe you should delete this number then.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve saved it,” Harry replied, his turn to tease now.

“Well then what are you worried about? There’s no evidence of your crime,” you mocked.

“Don’t call it a crime.”

“Can I at least be your favourite crime?”

Harry sighed again, a real exasperated sigh this time. Your grin fell as he stumbled over what to say, the potential repercussions of your chase suddenly weighing heavy on you both. “Look, I’ll be honest with you here y/n, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Harry confessed, his voice soft as he spoke.

“Can we not just worry about it later?” It was a plead you hoped the both of you would take notice of.

“Not when my career hangs in the balance.” He went quiet again, only shallow breaths and the drumming of his fingers audible from the other end of the line. “Meet me in my office at the end of the day tomorrow,” he finally muttered. “And not a word of this to anyone.”

“Goodnight, professor,” you smiled, heart pounding so violently you feared it could burst through your chest as you ended the call.

Either he wasn’t done with you yet, or he was really done. And if the tone of his voice and the reluctance that laced it gave you any clues, you had your money (and hopes) on the former.

—

You spent the whole morning in a daze, pulling your phone out every few minutes to check your message history in case you’d made the whole thing up. It felt like a bizarre fever dream, an alternate reality you’d stumbled into. Every time you saw the read the text from Harry your heart skipped a beat, doing nothing to calm you. Whatever he wanted to see you for was eating away at you, your fate resting in his hands. You didn’t even notice the campus barista calling your name, over and over again as your head and your heart argued loudly in your mind.

When you finally snapped back to reality, grabbing your coffee with a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips, you saw Harry watching you, an amused smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

You winked at him as you left the cafe, unnoticeable to anyone but him, but just enough to make him uncomfortable.

“He looks good today,” Courtney mused, pushing open the lecture hall door and leading you towards the nearest empty seats. They were too near the front for your liking, especially today, but at least Harry couldn’t miss you.

“How do I look?” you asked Courtney, glancing down at your outfit. You’d tried to be cute, in case that swayed him towards fulfilling your dirtiest desires, but not too over the top. You weren’t going to force him into bed if that isn’t where he wanted to end up with you.

“Like the little slut you are,” she teased, grinning as you rolled your eyes.

“He told me to go to his office at the end of the day. What if I get there and he’s sitting with the head waiting to grass me up?”

“Then you can blame me,” Courtney smiled, always ready to shoulder your academic and personal failures.

“What if he’s not?”

“Then you can thank me.”

You rested your chin in your hands, eyes glued to the head of whoever was sat in front of you as you grumbled and groaned. You were too busy freaking out to notice Harry coming in, his eyes continually flicking to you as he set up the projector.

“I really want him,” you groaned, just loud enough for the words to reach Harry’s ear, a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks as he read your lips.

“Silence, please,” he called out, eyes still locked on yours with his lips curled into a barely noticeable smirk.

He kept his eyes trained on you the entire class, not even attempting to look away whenever you caught him staring. If you were crazy, you’d notice that he’d paid a little more attention to his appearance that day. His brown curls were pushed back with a little gel, his ringed fingers falling to his side every time he reached up to brush a hand through his hair. He’d ditched the v-neck sweater for a crisp white shirt, hints of tattoos you didn’t know he had poking through the material.

-

You didn’t even notice it was the end of the day until your subconscious carried you out of the crowd of students heading for the exit, and you found yourself knocking on Harry’s door.

He called you in, straightening up as you pushed open the door and looked around expectantly. The university higher ups weren’t there to escort you off campus immediately, and you felt a little weight fall off your shoulders.

His office was quaint, littered with books and notes. Harry sat behind a tower of papers, an old fashioned table lamp illuminating his desk in warm orange hues. He waited for you to sit down in front of him, grinning as he handed you an uncapped pen. “I thought you could help me with some marking since you’re so desperate to harass me outside of lessons,” he smirked, nodding to the stack of papers.

“Any excuse to spend time with me,” you muttered, grinning as you dropped your bag down next to you. Harry handed half of his pile to you, and you work silently for a while, your mind running a million miles an hour. He hadn’t shut you down, hadn’t made any effort to tell you to stop. And he found a way for you to spend more one on one time together.

Harry cleared his throat suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Need to ask you something,” he murmured, setting his pen down on top of the paper he was working on.

You looked up at him silently, brows knitted and pouted lips falling open as you waited for him to continue. He was shifty, eyes squinted as if he didn’t want the words to come out. “You’re not trying to get something, are you?” he paused, tensing up in his seat. “Like… I don’t know. ‘Let me get some dirt so i can blackmail my professor for good grades.’”

His mouth hung open as he waited for you to reply, watching you go from confusion, to anger, to hurt in the time it took you to comprehend what he said.

You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to maintain your composure as you took in the weight of his words. “If that’s what you think then-”

You stood up, pulling your bag onto your shoulder. Harry jumped to his feet, circling around his desk as he read the hurt in your eyes. “It’s not, I have to ask-”

He reached out, grabbing a hold of your sleeve as you turned to walk away. Part of your brain willed you to stay, to not cause a scene and show him the immaturity that came with being tangled up with a younger woman. But you couldn’t stay there, not with him and his absurd view of you.

You pulled out of his grip, shrugging your sleeve back into place. “That’s not who I am,” you murmured, heading for the door as quickly as your shaky legs would take you. You left Harry standing there dumbfounded, face screwed up as you tried to make sense of him.

-

“Come on, please. Just one little boogie,” you pleaded with Courtney, already rifling through her wardrobe for something to wear. You’d promised each other to slow down with the nights out this year, try and use your evenings for important things like studying, or swiping through each other’s Tinders. But you were still a little pissed off, just enough that you required a best friend boogie to shake it off.

“Fine.” Courtney rolled her eyes, dragging her body off the bed to get changed.

The bar was busy when you got there, as noisy and as crowded as it was on the weekends. You groaned as you sunk into your seat at a corner booth, too irritated to deal with handsy men and having to shout about your problems over loud music.

unknown number: are you home?

Your phone lit up as you pulled it out your bag, a scowl taking over your features as your eyes gazed over the words.

unknown number: ?

“Who’s that?” Courtney asked, searching your frown for answers as you turned your phone face down on the table.

“Who do you think?”

“What the hell happened in his office?”

“Nothing, seriously nothing. He asked me if I’m trying to get dirt on him. So I can get better fucking grades.”

“It’s a valid question,” Courtney shrugged.

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. “I know it is. I’m just offended that he thinks I’m that kind of girl,” you explained.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. But if anything were to happen, there’s more for him to lose.”

“Well I don’t think I’d be finishing my education anywhere near here if it ever got out.”

“No, you’d be the town whore. Young women would come from all over the world, desperately seeking advice from their hero. Professors would fear even looking you in the eye,” Courtney teased, well prepared for your dramatics.

“You’re making me regret it before it’s even begun.”

“Stop pursuing him then.”

“You’re the one who dared me in the first place!”

Courtney patted your arm fondly, swilling the last of her drink around the walls of the glass. “While you’re brilliant company, I’d rather have a full glass while I talk to you. Same again?”

You picked up your phone hesitantly, as if it would detect your fear and automatically message Harry. He was too confusing, messing with your head already despite having spent less than an hour with him. You didn’t want messy, but somehow you needed him.

You threw your head in your hands, groaning as you peeled through your fingers. Courtney was taking too long, and naturally your eyes found her twirling her hair and grinning in the direction of the man with his arm around her waist.

He was cute, the exact kind of beachy blonde man you knew would leave Courtney in love after five minutes. She turned to look back at you with wide eyes, her excitement palpable even through the crowds between you.

You gave her a thumbs up, smile only faltering when you spotted a familiar face behind Courtney, the same brown curls that seemed to haunt your every move. Harry looked up from his phone at just the right moment to catch you staring. Busted. His warm gaze met your frosty glare, his cheeks tinged pink as his eyes focused on you.

You couldn’t exactly continue to ignore his texts now, especially with your phone quite clearly placed in front of you, so you broke eye contact, glancing down to type out a text to Harry.

y/n: no, busy riding the university head at the minute. thought i’d do go for the big dog 🤷🏻‍♀️

unknown number: come outside .

You watched as Harry slipped out of his booth, stalking towards the entrance. And like a little lap dog, you followed, eager to know what he had to say.

You slipped an arm around Courtney’s waist as you passed her, whispering in her ear about getting some fresh air. She nodded, but her eyes were glazed over, too deeply interested in this man to really hear what you said.

Harry was leaning against the wall outside when you reached him, head turned upwards towards the late evening skies. You stood next to him, back pressed against the brick with your eyes resting on him. Scanning over his features like it was the first and last time you’d ever see his face. The little mark of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, curls in tatters after a full day of running his hands through them every five minutes. He was attractive from the second you first set eyes on him, but most of his pull was in his personality. You didn’t know much of him, but what you did know was charming. He always told a stupid dad joke at the start of class to draw everyone in, his feedback was always positive even on the worst essays. No one ever felt stupid or less than around Harry, he made that his mission. And yet somehow now you felt like the most ridiculous little girl, chasing after someone she can’t have just for any benefits it might bring.

Harry had turned to face you at some point during your musing, silently watching your features soften and then change, moulding into different emotions as the cogs turned in your mind.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he started, shifting his body slightly as you looked back out onto the street.

“Then you shouldn’t have asked an offensive question.”

You knew you were showing your age, only aiding his perception of you, but you couldn’t help acting petty for a minute. You weren’t the adult in this situation, not the one who needed to be mature.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to know your intentions before-”

“You had every right to ask.”

Harry frowned, mouth opening in preparation to disagree with you before your rambling cut him off.

“No, you did. A lot more is at stake for you, I should’ve thought about that before I- I didn’t think you’d accept the drink, but you did, so I pushed, I was-”

“Testing the boundaries,” Harry finished for you.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ve hit them yet,” Harry mumbled, pulling his gaze away from you. You kept making him shy, painting an uncomfortable blush upon his skin, trailing goosebumps down his back. He was supposed to have the power here, yet he felt completely surrendered to you.

“Do you still want me to help you with marking?”

“If you want to. Was actually really helpful for me today.”

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a stream of texts flashing up on the screen. “Courtney says she wants to go home with her new boyfriend, he has a roommate who can ‘have’ me,” you told Harry, face screwing up as you read the last words.

“That sounds nice,” he chuckled dryly, glancing down at his watch.

“Sounds horrific, no thank you. Haven’t even had my boogie yet,” you groaned, quickly tapping a similar yet softer message to Courtney.

Harry turned on his heel, stalking back towards the entrance of the bar as you dawdled behind him, eyes still glued to your phone screen.

“Where are we going?” you asked, following him to his table. Courtney was leaned against it, the new drink she’d meant to bring you long forgotten next to her. Her new lover was attached to her like a conjoined twin, his lips hitting places you’d dreamed of finding Harry’s. “Your table’s been taken over,” you mumbled, watching as Harry interrupted the snogging session with a firm tap on the back of the beachy blonde’s head.

“Y/n, Josh. Josh, y/n,” Harry beamed, inwardly cringing at having to explain his connection to you and Courtney.

You shot her a puzzled look, mouth hanging open as you looked between the three of them standing across from you. Courtney’s face mirrored yours, smile morphing into a smug smirk as she realised. “He’s your roommate?” she asked Josh, thumb pointing towards Harry.

“Yeah. How do you-?”

“Story for another time mate,” Harry laughed, patting down his pockets to check he had everything before leading you out of the bar.

—

“Did you plan this?” you laughed, cocking your head in mock suspicion. Josh and Courtney had disappeared into his bedroom before you’d even taken your shoes off, leaving you and Harry alone for the evening. In his house.

It was cute, a tiny but spacious two bed. He had books littering every surface, all as tattered and worn as the one he’d been reading in the bar. And the shut of him fixing you some dinner, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder… it was a good job you were propped up against the breakfast bar for how weak your legs had become.

Harry held his hands up in defence, turning round to look at you. “I swear on my life, no. I invited Josh out for one, he went to get our drinks and they must’ve bumped into each other at the bar.”

“Why did you go back to the same bar?”

“Why did you?” Harry countered, the pasta water bubbling dangerously high as he abandoned the jumble of pots and pans on the hob, leaning on the countertop in front of you.

“I asked you first,” you smirked, reaching out to swat at his face. He caught your wrist in one quick movement, pinning your hand down between you both.

“I’m older.” Harry cocked his head to the side, a playful curl tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was something soft about him, an air of domesticity that you dreamed about in a man but rarely saw.

You wrapped your fingers around his, pushing your hand against his until they sat just between your faces. “How old are you?”

“I am… old enough to be your teacher,” Harry grinned, pulling his eyes from your face to frown at your hands. “Are you seriously trying to arm wrestle me?”

You felt his arm tense up, his grip on your hand tightening as he slammed your hand back down on the countertop, a laugh rising out of him. “Seriously,” you frowned, making no attempt to loosen your grip on him as he rounded the breakfast bar, stopping when his face was only inches from yours.

The food was long forgotten, the pasta water sizzling as it overflowed onto the hob. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled by your proximity and the crackle of tension in the air.

“Thirty four,” Harry replied finally, his breath tickling your skin.

It didn’t matter anymore. He could’ve been fifty, seventy even and it wouldn’t even reach your ears. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, couldn’t force your brain to do the mental maths when the scent of his last coffee of the day lingered on his breath, the woody notes of his aftershave clinging to his shirt, deep grey ink drawn onto the inches of exposed tan skin.

“Dinners ruined,” Harry murmured, nodding his head back towards the hob, eyes still glued to yours.

“I’m not hungry,” you whispered, breath hitching as Harry moved closer. He cupped your jaw, running his thumb along your lower lip. And then he was moving around the corner, stepping into you as you opened your legs to let him closer. Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes wide as you stared up at him.

Harry’s lips had barely met yours before the smoke alarm set off, barely given you a taste of him before he was across the kitchen, stabbing at the smoke detector with pain etched into his features.

Your eyes met when the wailing finally stopped, his frustration turning to amusement as he looked up towards the ceiling. “Maybe that was a sign,” he smirked.

You rested your head in your palm, brows knitted as you watched him lean against the sink, too far away from you. “Maybe we should follow the universes rules,” you whispered. “So you shouldn’t cross this,” you pointed to the breakfast bar.

“What if I need to get to that side of the room?” Harry countered, throwing his head back on his shoulders.

“You can ask me to pass you something.” But he was already moving closer, already rounding the countertop. And then his lips were on yours again, your makeshift barricade already forgotten. He was stronger this time, his tongue faster as it wrestled against yours, the sweet nectar of his mouth like honey as he kissed deeper into you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to catch your breath.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Harry echoed, pressing fervent pecks to your swollen pout.

“It’s really bad.” The words were tumbling out like a reminder to you both, your brains final plea for some display of sanity before it went too far.

Harry’s hands were wandering over your body, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth trailed down your neck. “I fear the line is too far behind us now,” he murmured, husky voice muffled against your throat. You were sure he could feel your heart working overtime to try and calm itself down, thumping against the walls of your ribs as if it were about to break free.

“I can’t see it”, you mumbled, tangling a hand in his hair. You were panting, your mouth gaping open as Harry’s fingertips clawed and kneaded at your doughy hips, his other hand cupping the nape of your neck. His mouth was magic, his tongue grazing over the spots his teeth would nip as he moved further down your body. It was as if he’d been starved for years, your skin his lifeblood, the food he so desperately craved.

But footsteps at the top of the stairs broke your spell, you and Harry forced to tear yourselves away from each other like repelling magnets. You could see the regret in his eyes, the hesitance of his touch as it left your body. He stumbled across the room to the sofa, throwing himself down as if physically pained to be out of your reach. You forced a smile onto your mouth, straightening out your skirt as Courtney rounded the corner into the living room.

“Nice night?” you smirked.

“I was just explaining to Josh that we’re being responsible now. Which means no sleepovers with boys you meet in bars, especially when you have classes the next day,” Courtney shrugged, putting on her best puppy dog eyes for you.

“I’m not your mum,” you laughed, turning to face her properly. “If you want to stay then stay.”

Courtney’s eyes flicked to Harry, as if waiting for him to tell her to leave. “Stay,” he told her, raising his eyebrows suggestively to Josh. “Even if it’s a bit weird,” he mumbled, low enough for only you to hear.

“Text me!” you called after Courtney, though her and Josh were already running back up the stairs for round god-knows-what.

“You can stay too if you like,” Harry told you, settling back into the sofa cushions.

“Mmm, maybe not. One boundary crossed in a day is enough, no?” you shrugged, busying yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on your tights.

“Who said anything about crossing boundaries?” Harry smirked. He passed your jumper to you when you rolled your eyes, grabbing his keys from the side table as he stood up.

-

The air was tense when you got in the car, only speaking to direct Harry to your flat. His fingers danced along your thigh at every red light, his eyes lingering on you every time he glanced to the left.

“It’s just here,” you murmured, gesturing to the building ahead of you. You didn’t know why you kept talking yourself out of something you so clearly wanted, something that came to you both so naturally. It was right with a hint of wrong, wrong with a little right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of something you so desperately craved.

Harry pulled into your driveway, questions written all over his face. You looked at him wordlessly, setting your hand on top of his.

“Do you trust Courtney?” he asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“With my life.” It wasn’t Courtney finding out that bothered you, and he knew that. If you were sloppy, anyone could see you together and realise what was going on. Or worse, other students could find out and use it against him in the very way he’d accused you of. Or worse still, you could be only one of many students he did this with.

“Then as long as we’re careful, there doesn’t have to be consequences,” Harry murmured, somehow knowing exactly how to dispel all of your worries. “Unless you’d rather leave it where it is. No harm, no foul,” he offered, squinting slightly as he tried to gage your reaction. He so desperately didn’t want to leave it, to put it aside as a twenty-four hour romance, never to be spoken of again. But it was clear that neither of you wanted to suffer the consequences.

“I don’t know if I can just close that door,” you sighed, the thrill too addictive to put aside. “Keep an eye on Courtney for me, please,” you whispered, slipping out of the car before you could manage to confuse yourself further.

He stayed outside until you get in the door, a small smile playing on his lips. You hadn’t wanted to leave it, and you weren’t trying to get something out of him. It was still dangerous, still as threatening to both of your lives, but you were both in it.

—

You’d barely met Harry’s eye for the entire class, willing yourself to forget he was that hot before your foolish desires turned into something unforgivable. Even still, your legs had carried you to his office at the end of the day with urgency. The warm glow of his lamp was too familiar, the woody aftershave you could smell from outside the door too inviting. You stepped into his office silently, pushing the door closed behind you.

“Hi,” Harry smiled from behind a stack of papers. He watched as you pulled out the chair in front of his desk, dropping into it with a content grin. “I had a very fun chat with Josh this morning.”

“I bet. What did he say?”

Harry halved the papers in front of him, placing the smaller pile in front of you. His fingertips brushed against your hand as you reached for the top one, lightning bolts streaking through your skin from the point of contact.

“That I’m a creep. And someone should’ve told him yesterday,” Harry grinned, reluctantly moving his hand away from yours.

“Did Courtney not say anything?” you laughed, screwing your face up as you imagined that conversation. Harry shrugged, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“I can’t believe she’s stayed at your house,” you cringed, nose wrinkling as you thought about it. It was enough of a boundary crossed to stay there if you were sleeping with him, but to have your professor know you’d been having sex under his roof… eurgh.

“You could’ve stayed too,” Harry murmured, shifting his marked papers to the empty space beside him.

“You know I couldn’t, Harry.”

“Remind me of your reasons.”

You turned the name plate on his desk round to face him, pointing at the word ‘professor’ with raised eyebrows.

“That didn’t stop you kissing me.”

“It was an act of charity!” you protested. “How can you turn down an old, lonely man who keeps trying to kiss you?”

Harry chuckled, leaning his forearms on the desk. “I’m old and lonely now?”

You nodded, a tiny smirk emerging as you chewed on the end of your pen. The more you got to see the playful side of Harry, the more you needed him. He seemed to have just the right dose of everything you wanted, your perfect man right in front of you and yet just out of reach.

“If that’s what it takes to kiss you, I’ll gladly be the oldest and loneliest man in the world,” he mewled, eyes sparkling as he leaned closer, his grin only centimetres away from you.

But then came a knock at the door, leaving you both springing away from each other once again. Harry cleared his throat as he walked over, straightening himself out as he tried to come up with a million plausible reasons why you would be in his office.

You craned your neck to see who had chosen to interrupt that moment. It another student from your class, asking about the assignment he’d set that day. You’d never spoken to her much, and from the way she was flicking her hair at Harry, you probably wouldn’t push for a friendship. Something lit up inside of you when you watched how professional and curt he was with her, a far cry from how he’d ever acted around you.

He got rid of her fairly quickly, wishing her a good weekend. Harry slammed the door behind him, giving it a second before walking back towards you. He stopped in front of your chair, crouching down just centimetres away from your face.

“I have a proposition. I think my house will be occupied this weekend, and it doesn’t seem like luck is on our side here. Why don’t we go somewhere? Out of the city obviously. If you’d like,” he was blushing slightly as he spoke, his fingers anxiously tapping on the armrests of your chair.

“That would be nice,” you smiled, the fire inside of you only growing warmer at the thought of spending proper alone time with Harry.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to your lips before flashing you a grin. “Sorry. Just had to do that once,” he mumbled.

You watched as Harry circled around his desk, hips swaying in mock seduction when he felt your eyes on him. “Did you ever notice me before?” you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

“Of course I did.”

“No, like, notice me, notice me,” you were gesturing wildly, hoping he’d catch on to your insinuation. Asking a man if he ever fancied you was embarrassing even for you, never mind if you had to physically spell it out for them.

“I never thought about you that way, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re my student, it never crossed my mind,” Harry told you, placing his glasses at the of his nose as he resumed grading.

“But now?”

He paused for a moment, gaze dripping with lust as it dragged over your face. “Now… I am beginning to think about you that way.”

‘Beginning’ was good enough for you. You leaned back in your chair, lips curling into a satisfied smile as you fiddled with the pen cap, anticipation coursing through your veins.

“You realise you’re supposed to be helping me? You’ve only graded about four papers,” Harry teased, head nodding towards his towering ‘finished’ pile.

You thumbed through your pile, counting under your breath as Harry watched with an amused smirk. “Five, actually,” you shot back.

Harry’s only response was to raise his eyebrows, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in the seat. “You shouldn’t be rushing me anyway. The longer I take to grade, the more time you spend with me,” you grinned.

Harry stood up again, circling around the desk to tug your chair - with you still in it - next to his. You looked over at him as he sat back down, his eyebrow raised as an amused giggle bubbled out of you. “You’re clearly distracted by looking at me,” he shrugged, grinning as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the laughing fit.

“Now I’m more distracted by my proximity to you,” you grumbled, tearing your eyes away from Harry to stare back at the paper. That lasted all of 5 seconds before you were turning to face Harry again, knocking your pen against his shoulder to get his attention back on you. “Since you never replied, do you not want me to take forever, so you get to spend all that time with me?”

“Do you think I’m ever going to run out of papers?”

“You could always stop setting assignments,” you shrugged.

Harry swatted at the tip of your nose, his eyes bright behind his tortoise shell glasses. “You are just full of suggestions that all end in me being unemployed.”

“You chose this career,” you murmured, voice faltering as Harry placed a finger under your chin, pulling you up to face him properly. “I wouldn’t mind if you took forever,” he smiled, his eyes dark as they landed on your mouth.

Harry’s thumb was running across your bottom lip, swiping a tiny bead of spit over it until the rosebud skin was reflecting the glow of the lights. Your heart was hammering in your throat, almost willing someone to catch you in such an innocent yet inexplicable position. You stayed frozen for a few minutes, eyes caressing every shape on the other’s face, until Harry sucked in a deep breath, springing to his feet. “Let’s go,” he grunted. “Walk over to the bus stop and meet me there.”

-

“Are you kidnapping me?” you laughed as you slipped into the passenger seat.

“Damn. You got me,” Harry grinned, his smile not quite hiding the frustration in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Couldn’t take one more second in that fucking office,” he groaned, tires squealing as he sped away from the bus stop.

He was a man on a mission as he raced across town, desperate to put as much distance as he could between you and the university. You stayed silent, the anticipation threatening to burst out of you if you dared open your mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment as he pulled up in a secluded car park, any signs of life obscured by overgrown bushes and trees. You so desperately wished for Harry to take you home, to do the things that you’d dreamed about.

He lead you over to a bench just behind the trees, wildflowers and unkept grass tickling at your bare legs as you set next to him. He was still silent, brows still knitted in frustration as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, flicking open the lid and holding it out to you. You took one, eyes flitting between the box and Harry’s face as he watched you.

“Only when I’m stressed,” Harry murmured, answering your puzzled look. You handed the lighter back to him, turning to face him fully as you exhaled the first drag. “And you’re stressed why?” you asked, watching the frustrations fall from his face as a wisp of smoke trailed over the pair of you.

“Because you’re dangerous,” he smirked, watching the ash fall as he tapped the cigarette. The remnants of chipped nail varnish on his fingertips, the prominent veins in his strong hand. You never thought watching someone smoke could turn you on, but the growing wet patch in your panties was proof that there wasn’t a thing Harry could do that wasn’t overwhelmingly sexy.

“How?”

Harry turned his attention back to you after a beat, resting an arm behind you on the bench. “Because you look at me like that,” he groaned, his voice husky as he spoke. “You sit there with something so filthy yet innocent in your eyes, making me want you when we both know you’re out of reach.”

He dropped his cigarette at his feet, stumping it out as you took a final drag of yours before mimicking him. “I’m not out of reach,” you whispered, reaching up to push a curl from Harry’s face.

“I can’t have you,” Harry murmured, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling until you were straddling his thighs. His hands found your hips as you settled on top of his bulge, the cotton of his trousers melding to the slick coating your panties. You wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing into his touch.

“You already do.” You knew what Harry was saying. You just couldn’t bother caring any longer about who might see you, or what would happen when you’d given him your all and yet couldn’t take it any further. He was exactly the kind of person you shouldn’t get involved with, and if you were a better person, you would have paid attention to that rather than finding yourself perched atop his thighs, leaning into his mouth as he pressed urgent kisses to your neck.

His fingers traced a question along the neckline of your jumper, his green eyes pleading with yours to let him uncover more of you. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t function for a second longer unless Harry released some of the energy built up inside of you. All you could do was grab a hold of the curls at the nape of his neck and hope what Harry saw in your eyes was permission.

He wasted no time in yanking down the top of your jumper, taking your bra with it until your nipple was exposed, inches from his lips. You ground down on his hips as he took you into his mouth, breathy moans clawing their way out of your throat as his tongue swirled around the pink bud. His hand was squeezing as he suckled, the perfect blend of hard and soft. Your whole body was electric, lightning bolts sending shudders through your system from where he touched you.

Harry’s lips popped off your nipple, his fingers still groping and massaging the exposed skin of your breast. He kissed his way back up to your jawline, his free hand slipping under your skirt. “Gonna do so much to this body when I have the time,” he murmured against your lips, pushing his hips up against yours. The moan that slipped past your parted lips was animalistic, your fingertips clawing for a hold on Harry’s crumpled collar.

You let his forehead push against your cheek, putty in his hands to be molded to whatever he needed you to be. His lips met yours with pure desire, your whole body limp as you succumbed to him. His lips, his touch, his cock throbbing under your core, it was too much to bear. The evening breeze that trailed over your exposed skin barely made a dent in cooling you down, did nothing to alert you to where you were or who you were with.

You reached down, leaning back until your shaking hands met the cool metal of Harry’s belt buckle. His hips bucked, nudging his clothed tip closer to your core, drawing a deep moan out of him when your fingertips brushed over his length. “Not here, princess,” he groaned, sinking his teeth into your swollen bottom lip.

You wanted to touch him, to make him feel as needed as he did to you, to feel the burn as his cock broke through your walls. The disappointment that throbbed through your core was short-lived though as his fingers moved to your entrance, plucking your panties to the side as your slick coated his lap. You were soaked through, ready for him in a way that you’d definitely be embarrassed by later. His fingertips had barely grazed you, yet you were writhing and panting as if you’d never been touched before.

You dipped your head onto Harry’s shoulder, reluctantly pulling your hands away from his hips as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your gasp was quietened by your lips pressing into his collar, your teeth tugging against the material as he rubbed slow circles over your sweet spot.

You barely managed to croak out a plea for more, your voice failing you as every muscle in your body contracted, your walls begging for Harry to touch you deeper.

He answered with a groan, shifting you in his lap until two fingers sunk into you, piercing through the tension in your core. You were rocking against his hand, lips ghosting along his jawline as you chased the high you were already so close to. Every buck of your hips pressed your clit into his palm, the contact making your hair stand on end. He was electric, his fingers fucking into you with a power that almost had you fearing what he could do in bed.

You were burning, your heart pounding in your ears. It was too loud, the sound of your slick, your moans and Harry’s breathless pants mixing together in a filthy symphony spurring you closer to your release. You wanted more of him, for him to fuck you in every way possible, but it was overwhelming. You couldn’t focus, pleasure rolling through your body in waves as his mouth found your nipple again, the added sensation pushing you over the edge. You were too weak too hold on, too close to do anything other than succumb to your high, tensing in his hold as you cried out his name.

It echoed around your mind, your eyes screwed shut as he rode you through it, your inner walls clamping down on his fingers. Your thighs were still trembling as he pulled his hand from your core and pushed his fingertips past his lips, sucking every bit of your come from them.

You were frozen, staring at Harry through heavy eyes with the ghost of a smile curling the corners of your mouth. You felt lifeless, trapped inside a body that didn’t feel like yours, even as he tucked your exposed breast back into your jumper and pulled you into his chest. You’d given him everything you had, and you’d happily stay on that bench in your blissful bubble for the rest of your life.

“Should get you home,” Harry murmured, his voice as he pressed a kiss into your hair. You hugged him tighter, unable to get up and walk away even if you wanted to.

eee guys what did you think ?! this was a bit choppy and weirdly written but 🤪 it will all come together in the next part

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @fanfic-whore

[maudie-duan]

Summary: You were an almost lover, now a hushed whisper in the dark when his Ex moves back to town. Nothing is worse than a love triangle you weren't expecting--old flames, new love, and lingering feelings, but who's the real winner when everyone gets hurt? Trope: Friends To Lovers X Love Triangle Pairing: Prince Harry Styles X (Fem)Reader X Ex-Girlfriend Taglist: Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged for this series. Warnings: All Angst, Mild Spice. Type: Three-Part Mini-Series A/N: You guys asked for ANGST!!!!!!! So now I'm delivering. This will be a little spin-off from The Sabrina Series<- but still the same concept, just roping together three songs. Requested by @shaeeggsstuff @run-for-the-hills @spinninc

POV: You

What's your side of the story? How did you even get mixed up in this tangled web of devastation?

Part One<-

POV: Ex-Girlfriend (Leah)

Some people need a villain. There are two sides to every story, and now there will be three.

Part Two<-

POV: Harry

Love is complicated, especially when love has Harry torn between his past and present. How does he decide if the weight of his history with his Ex(Leah) outweighs his future with you, and when Leah comes back, and those same toxic patterns start playing on repeat, will history be worth repeating??

Part Three<-

POV: You

BONUS PART!!!

What's left after the confusion of feelings, when the domino effect has been triggered, and everyone is left in the aftermath of what was.

Part Four<-

A/N: You guys!!!!! I'm so fucking excited about this one. I forgot how much I LOVE writing angst. You're in for a treat!

The Sabrina Series Masterlist<-

My Tiny Masterlist<-

Chat with me!<-

[niallerspayno]

NiallersPayno Masterlist

One Direction

Series

Liam Payne and Niall Horan (love triangle)

We’ll Be Alright

Moments

Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan (love triangle)

Between the Lines

Liam Payne

Faking It

Spaces Between Us

To Build A Home

Troublemaker

Niall Horan

Temporary Fix

One shots / Mini Series

Niall Horan

Rock Me

After Midnight

It's Just Science

Our Secret

Same Mistakes

I Like Your Style | Part 2

Black and White | Part 2 | Part 3

Be My Baby Daddy

Gotta Be You | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Irish Charm | Part 2

Good Girl

Louis Tomlinson

Heat of the Moment

Two Loves

About Last Night | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Don’t Call Me Love | Part 2 | Part 3

Hide and Seek

Guess

Birthday Surprise

Zayn Malik

With You Always

Game Night

Last First Kiss

In The Silence

It's You

Steal My Girl

Fire and Ice | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

My Sunshine

She's Not Afraid | Part 2

Bordersz

Gates Of Hell

Liam Payne

I'll Look After You

Shelter from the Rain

Troublemaker | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (rewriting into a series)

All I Want For Christmas

I Want

I Can Help

Harry Styles

Behind Closed Doors

English Love Affair

Only Angel

Lights Up

Love Triangles

The Line | Part 2 | Part 3

Three’s Company | Part 2 | Part 3

No Control | Part 2

Drabbles

Getting caught under the mistletoe

How they kiss you on NYE

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Let Her Go.

harry styles had it all.

the perfect life, the doting wife, the adorable son, and the business that outrun everyone else’s.

pleasing was all he had ever known. he started the business when he was eighteen, it started off by him selling items on the local market, before he created his own website and then boom. he was buying his first office block.

which grew bigger, and bigger and you guessed it bigger.

he first met you at the age of fifteen. the two of you attended the same secondary school and were basically the school sweethearts. against your parents wishes, you married young at the age of nineteen.

you were there through everything.

fast forward to the current day….he was hardly ever home, always spending the evenings at the office and leaving early in the mornings to attend meetings and hoping to avoid traffic. the only time you saw him, no sorry felt him, was when the two of you were in bed at night.

even his son was starting to grow accustomed to his father not being home.

you were starting to have enough. and soon it would be a story of how he let her go.

authors note - ahhh!! im super duper excited for this one! its going to be a bit of an angsty mini series that im super duper excited to get out to you all. im hoping that the first chapter be up sunday? so sit tight ladies because its going to be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

warnings - explicit language, mentions of panic attacks, smut that’s badly written and major angst.

if you notice anymore then please shoot me a message <3

chapter one. [ coming soon. ]

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: You’re moving into your first apartment after graduating college and you use a moving service your friend recommended. Not really expecting much of the company with a name like “College Hunks Hauling Junk” you take extra care to box your things up really well. But no amount of bubble wrap can keep the cocky, snarky, semi retired frat bro Harry Styles from damaging a few of your boxes which leads to him learning the hard way that sometimes he’s going to have to handle things with a little more care than he’s used to. 📦✨

Pairing: frat!Harry x fem!reader

Trope: Grumpy x sunshine

CW: Frat Harry (some people really aren’t into this lol), language, tiny bit of angst, one drunken moment

Story Type: Mini Series (5 parts)

A/N: This is gonna be a whirlwind of an emotional roller coaster for Harry from the very start so if you’re into that then this is the story for you! ✨

Status: Completed ✨

Tag List: Open

Extras: here

Highly Recommended

This Can’t Be Happening

Are You Okay?

Sunshine and Citrus

What Have You Heard?

Extras:

Did you wanna do it? (Run in with your ex)

Take My Time

[alohajix]

꒰ masterlist ꒱

— a quiet collection of stories told in soft sighs, messy hearts, and lingering touches.

| “give me all of your love, give me something to dream about…”

stories spun from daydreams and midnight thoughts—organized below.

————————————————————————————————

Yep, I caved. Made a taglist. Wanna be spoiled with fresh filth (or fluff)? Say the magic words and I’ll add you like the VIP you are.

🔥= smut | ☁️ = fluff | 💔 = angst | 🎭 = drama

✧ SERIES

stories that stretch across time — unfolding slow like honey.

• When You’re Ready 🔥☁️💔🎭 (on hold)

“Healing isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it sounds like a little girl’s laughter, a quiet classroom, or a man learning to hope again.”

In the quiet town of Holmes Chapel, Amara—a gentle, nurturing kindergarten teacher—lives a life built on routine, safety, and quiet strength. She’s not looking for love, especially not after the scars left behind by someone she’d rather forget.

But when Harry Styles walks into her classroom carrying his three-year-old daughter and a heart still grieving the loss of the woman he loved, everything changes. Neither of them is ready. Neither of them is looking.

But sometimes, the people who change your life don’t knock first. They just… show up.

↳ Part One

↳ Part Two

↳ Part Three

✧ MINI–SERIES

a little more than just one chapter.

• No Strings… Right? 🔥☁️💔🎭 (ongoing)

It was supposed to be one night—just sex, no feelings, no consequences. But the second Harry touched me, I knew I was lying. He’s my brother’s best friend. Off-limits. Dangerous. But he fucks me like he owns me, whispers things I’m not supposed to hear, and looks at me like I’m already his.

We said no strings. But we’re tangled in every way that matters.

↳ Just This Once

↳ It’s Just Sex

↳ I Can’t Lose You

↳ "You're Fucking Harry?"

✧ ONE–SHOTS

single nights. stolen moments. stories that begin and end with a touch.

• Just Like That 🔥☁️ (Word: 4K)

When Emma meets Harry—a charming, British bartender—on a night out in New York City, their instant connection lingers long after the music fades. A few days later, one simple text turns into a date neither of them can forget. What starts with soft conversation and lingering looks quickly builds into something deeper, more electric… and maybe even real.

• First Time for Everything 🔥 (Word: 6.2K)

When Nora finds out her best friend Harry makes adult content, curiosity turns into something much more. One video leads to another, and soon they’re filming, posting, and falling into something hotter—and deeper—than either of them expected.

• Until I Break 🔥 (Word: 5.5K)

When Ember comes home from college, the last person she expects to fall for is her brother’s best friend. But one stolen kiss turns into something neither of them can walk away from.

• Room 1014 🔥(Word: 12K)

Freshly single and craving something reckless, Cassie meets a soft-spoken stranger in a hotel lobby. One look turns into one night—filthy words, slow touches, and a room she might never want to leave.

• The Casting Tape 🔥 (Word: 7K)

She said she wasn’t nervous. She said she'd never done this before. But then he walked in—and made her forget every lie she told herself.

↳ Off the Record 🔥🎭 (Word: 5K)

A few days after her first casting, she gets a message. No name. No warning. Just an invitation to watch the tape back—with him. But this time, there’s no crew. No red light. No director calling the shots. Just the two of them, a couch, and everything they left unsaid.

• Late Shift Lust 🔥(Word: 6K)

Working the late shift at a nearly empty diner isn’t glamorous—but it pays the bills. Savannah’s used to the quiet, the tired regulars, and the occasional flirt. But when a tattooed stranger with a slow smile walks in after midnight, the tension builds fast and burns hot. One cup of bitter coffee turns into a filthy, unforgettable encounter behind the counter.

• You Were Made for Me 🔥💔🎭 (Word: 6K)

He took me. Locked me away in a beautiful room and said I was his. Not because I asked. But because he swears I was made for him. And the worst part? I think he’s right.

• Room With a View 🔥(Word: 11K)

A luxury hotel. A secret club. A glass wall and one-way invitation. I came to watch—until he looked right at me and walked into my room without asking. Now my hands are tied, my body’s on display, and he’s fucking me like everyone’s watching—because they are.

• The Interview 🔥(Word: 2.3K)

A late-night interview with Harry Styles turns into a game of control, filthy whispers, and desk-fucking in a locked studio where the mics are off—but the heat’s just getting started. (Words: 2.3K)

• Private Lessons 🔥(Word: 7K)

When I show up at his door with a college essay and a short skirt, I tell myself it’s just for feedback. But Mr. Styles isn’t my teacher anymore—and the moment his hands find my skin, it’s clear we’re both done pretending.

↳ Private Lessons [2] 🔥☁️ (Word: 8.9K)

Four days after their first night together, she shows up on Harry’s doorstep again—no excuse, no plan, just the memory of what he said and the weight of everything she’s still craving. But this time, he doesn’t hold back. He pushes her to the edge—ties her wrists, makes her beg, and shows her exactly what it means to be wanted too much.

• All Night Celebration 🔥 (Word: 2.2K)

You meet Calum Hood for the first time at the 5SOS5 afterparty. You weren’t expecting his attention. You weren’t expecting Harry to offer you up. And you definitely weren’t expecting both of them to ruin you upstairs before the night is over.

✧ requests

written just for you — born from curious minds and quiet whispers.

• Say My Name 🔥(Word: 8K)

Based on this request. You’re new on the tour’s sound crew—professional, focused, and definitely not interested in falling for Harry Styles. But Harry? He takes one look at you and decides you’re his new favorite game. He calls you “new girl,” taunts you during sound check, and won’t learn your name… until you snap. And when the tension finally breaks? It’s filthy, rough, and everything you didn’t know you needed. Turns out, Harry’s mouth isn’t just good at running—it’s good at ruining you, too.

• Shhh… They’ll Hear Us 🔥(Word: 4.4K)

Based on this request. I wasn’t supposed to be here again. He wasn’t supposed to notice. But when Harry pulls me onto his tour bus after the show, things get filthy fast—and staying quiet is the one thing he can’t do.

• Sir, Yes Ma'am 🔥(Word: 5K)

Based on this request. He’s my bodyguard—tall, strong, and always in control. Until the door closes behind us. Then he kneels. He begs. And he takes everything I give him. He lives to be used, to be praised, to be ruined—just for me. And tonight, I don’t plan on going easy.

• The Note ☁️ (Word: 4.5K)

Based on this request. You used to write “Mrs. Y/N Styles” in pink gel pen, convinced you’d marry your celebrity crush one day. It was harmless, teenage daydreaming—until it wasn’t. Years later, standing across from Harry Styles on your wedding day, you find out he’s known about that childhood fantasy all along. And somehow, he saved a piece of it for this moment.

(requests: open — feel free to drop something in my ask box)

————————————————————————————————

“so glad you’re here. hope you find something you love.” 💕

[purplecoffee13]

Mr. Sunshine - Part Four* (final part)

Summary: “You take Harry back to your dorm, things go down, and confessions are made.”

Wc: 2.5k

Tropes: grumpy!MC x sunshine!Harry

Warnings: SMUT, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, gentle dom!harry

A/N: Happy Friday loves! I finished writing the last part of Mr. Sunshine today, and I wanted to share it right away! I loved writing this story line so much and I’ll definitely do check-ups on Sunshine!Harry. This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but I almost cried while writing it. (this may also have to do with hormones, but oh well) enjoy!!!

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

From the moment you and Harry are inside your room and the door shuts, his lips are on yours again. Your lips are tingling with how much they had missed Harry's in the short moment that you opened your front door. But now you were inside, walking backwards until Harry pushed you onto your bed, slowly climbing over you.

Your roommate had gone to her parents' house for the weekend, as it was her mom's birthday, so you had the room all to yourself tonight.

You let out the smallest fraction of a whine at the feel of Harry's fingers tracing up and down your body, feeling every last bit of you in the process. You feel the way Harry's lips cockily curls up before engulfing you into an even deeper kiss, with that sparking an even louder sound of pleasure from your mouth.

"Fuck. Such pretty sounds you make, sunshine." Harry says breathlessly in between kisses, his mouth leaving yours and latching onto your neck, kissing his way down. Your heat is on fire, at least it feels like that. Harry's touch is so familiar and it felt like it belongs on your skin.

"Harry..." you roll your eyes as he sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck, fondling your breast with his free hand. You wrap your legs around him in an attempt to bring him closer. You need him as close as he can get; you need him inside you.

"Talk to me, sunshine, what do you need?" He asks in a soft, teasing tone. You let out a whimper, your head too fuzzy to create any real sentences right now. When he senses that you aren't going to answer any time soon, he decides to taunt you some more. "I can't give you anything if you don't tell me what you need."

He lets another few seconds go by, and when still no answer fall from your lips, he starts to pull away. And just like clockwork, you break.

"No!" You yelp, propping yourself up on tour elbows. Your eyes widen at the sound of your own sudden desperation. You spot the amused glint in Harry's eyes, and sigh.

"I—... I need you."

The words leave your mouth in an irritated mumble, and it's when Harry realizes he's got you right where you've got him ever since that first project.

"C'mon sunshine, you can do better than that. Say it like you mean it." He demands, grinning from ear to ear as he leans over you again. You let yourself lay back on the mattress, and breathe. With his scent above you and in your memory, you allow yourself to let it all go. Let the pressure and the pride flow away.

"I need you, Harry. I need you so bad. Don't be mean, don't keep me empty... please?" You go against your own rationality, instead doing something that you've secretly longed your life to do, let someone else take control. Harry just stares at you, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets at your sly words. He swallows.

"Holy fuck... Of course, baby, I'll give you everything you need. Everything I have." He says, hiking up your dress and taking off your panties. Harry sits back, watching your wet cunt all spread out for him. He cannot believe you are here, lying in front of him with a hunger in your eyes that he only believed him to be capable of.

His thumb traces over your clit, slightly rubbing it. You gasp at the contact, it sending a shiver down your spine. With lazy eyes, you stare up at him, waiting for his next move. You squirm, the tender touch not being enough in the slightest. Harry laughs, tutting you as he shakes his head.

"Desperate little thing." He murmurs before sticking a finger inside your slick pussy. A strangled moan escapes your lips, your eyes falling shut at the feel of his long finger — and soon fingers, because he is quick to add another — pumping in and out of you. A string of sounds come from you as Harry keeps on digging his fingers in and out of you. He leans forward, his breath fanning against you ear.

"Is this good for you, sunshine?" He asks rhetorically, because the way you are crumbling under him is indication enough. He seems to know so too. "That's what I thought, baby. Just needed someone to take care of you, didn't you? Well, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

His digits drive deeper into you, and you bit your lips to contain your moans at the combination of his fingers and his filthy words.

"Is that it, hmm? Need someone to take control? Take your mind off everything other than cumming over and over again?" Harry asks further, and you let out a strangled 'yes'. He chuckles lowly before leaning back, instead paying full attention to your pussy.

You let out somewhat of a scream when Harry's lips plant themselves onto your clit, your back arching from the sudden rush of pressure. Your orgasm is nearing, and Harry's lips will only have you riding out your high in no time.

"Oh my god... I'm going to cum—" but before you can even finish your sentence, Harry intensifies the suction on your clit, and soon you are coming all over his fingers. He makes sure to pump out your high, then softly taking his fingers out of you. You nearly come again at the sight of him sticking his own fingers into his mouth to taste your cum.

In a flash, you are reaching for his pants. You unbuckle his seatbelt and lower his pants and underpants, letting his cock spring free. You are about to return the favor he just gave you, but Harry puts your hands away.

"No foreplay for me, I just want to get inside of you." He says in a husky tone that has you melting for him. "Do you have a condom?"

Fuck.

"No." You say, your voice sounding strained as the word leaves your mouth. No! You can't believe you don't have a condom. Actually you can, because you didn't hook up with anyone in a really long time. But you couldn't not do this. You needed Harry inside of you. When he pulls away from you, you start to panic.

"No! Wait, no. Just get inside me. We can do it raw. I'm clean. I'll take the morning after pill." You start to plead, but it dies down when you see Harry grab his wallet and pull a condom out of it.

"You— you had a condom in your wallet?" You ask him hesitantly . He shakes his head.

"I have condoms in my car. I took some with me when you invited me in." He shrugs, wrapping the condom around his hard shaft. He leans over you once again, lining himself up with your slick cunt.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, because at this point he is just making you suffer.

"Harry, stop teasing. I can't wait any longer, I need you so bad— ah!" You interrupt yourself with a loud moan when Harry pushes himself into you. He lets out an equal volume groan at the feel of his cock buried inside your pussy. He's been dreaming about this since forever. He never dared to dream he'd ram inside you after you begged for his cock. It strokes his ego in a way that nothing else ever had.

Harry begins pounding into you harshly, your whole body and bed moving along with his violent thrusts. You try to hold onto his arms for steadiness, but Harry has a different idea. He pulls up your dress over your head, but leaves it around your arms, forcing them to stay above your head. It restricts you from having further authority of how your body bounces around, and you are now completely at his mercy.

"This is it, huh? What you needed? Getting fucked so hard until the only thing your pretty mind can remember is my name?" Harry growls, throwing a leg over your shoulder so he can dive deeper into you. He succeeds at doing it, and his rewarded with a loud 'yes!' from you. "Just needed me to take the reins, right? So bratty for me during the day, but you just want to give all that control to me in between the sheets, don't you?"

You don't want to answer, and even if you did, you can't. Harry has been fucking you completely dumb for the past minutes and even the thought of a coherent sentence can't be processed right now. Harry laughs at the way you lay there,

"Don't try and deny it. The way you begged for my raw cock proves enough. Poor baby was nearly gonna cry at the thought of not getting my cock." Harry's thrusts become harder, having you nearly flying off the bed if it isn't for him holding you down by your hips. Your tits shake along and the sight of it is more than he can bare.

"Well you don't have to worry, sunshine. I'll  give it you whatever you want. Although, I'm sure that you'll be satisfied with whatever I choose to give you. You'll just lay there and take it, won't you?"

That's what does it for you. It takes you over the edge. Your eyes fall shut as you scream out Harry's name, and even the way he keeps on hammering into you fades for a second as the high hits you. By the time you see clearly again, you notice that Harry's pace hasn't faltered, and he is even circling your clit with his thumb.

With your jaw slack, you try to protest against the overstimulation, but every sound that comes out sounds like you are in total agreement with it. And you are, but you just haven't felt this much... ever.

"You need to cum with me, baby. I have to feel it." Harry orders. You scream out at the harshness of the circles he is rubbing, but the slight pain only inches you closer to the edge you had visited only a minute ago.

"G—gonna cum again, ah fuck!" You tell him, slowly opening your eyes to find his. "Come for me, come inside me. Please, please."

Harry's pupils dilate at the way you are begging for him. It is more than he can handle. His thrusts become sloppy as he lets out a string of curse words, hot spurts of cum spurting into the condom as he groans out your name. He lets himself fall forward, steadying himself with his arms, that lean against the bed on both sides of your body.

He leans forward, planting his lips against yours. The kiss is smooth and tender, filled with the love that has been pouring out since he saw you for the first time.

"I can't believe you're mine." Harry smiles at you like a fool as you run your hand through his soft hair. You cock an eyebrow, playfully.

"I wasn't aware we had established such labels yet." You argue, and Harry shakes his head, laughing at your need to have control over everything.

"I think that the fact that I'm still inside of you counts for establishment, does it not?" Harry counters with a smirk, leaving you speechless. Your silence soon turns into a chuckle, and you shut your eyes at how ridiculous this all is. Harry joins you in your laughter.

After a while, he pulls himself out of you carefully, studying your face to see if he is not accidentally hurting you. You hiss at the loss of the feel of him anyway, and it might hurt more mentally than physically to not have him fill you up anymore. It feels strangely empty. It is as that thought crosses your mind, you realize: you are utterly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

If you miss someone whose chest is still pressed against you, it is the result of the failure of your coping mechanism, and the success of years of trying. You look at Harry, who is now lying next to you, with big eyes.

"How did you do that?" You ask, scanning over his face.

"What?"

"Make love seem so easy." You blurt out before you can even become aware of what you just said. Your cheeks turn bright red once it dawns on you, and while you are sure your eyes radiate panic, his face is as calm and secure as ever.

"Because loving you is easy, sunshine." Harry answers simply. As if it isn't a big deal. As if he hasn't just confessed that he loves you. For some reason, he can't find it in himself to worry about you running away. It wouldn't have mattered if you did, he would have still said it. He just needed you to know.

Your eyes begin to water, and your ears are ringing in the aftermath of hearing a sentence you had always feared to be untrue. These past two years you had done nothing but keep your distance, from anything and everything, to the very point where you feared you could never change your mind if you wanted to. You were too far, and the wall around you was too tall for anyone to brave, including yourself.

And now you are lying next to someone who built a door between those bricks and waltzed through it as if entering his own house. How lucky you are to have someone change the construct of your mind's constraints and tell you it didn't feel hard, or difficult, or exhausting.

"Loving you sure is easier than tutoring you, Mr. Sunshine." You stifled out a laugh as your welled up eyes let a couple of tears roll over your face. Harry's mouth creeps up into a crooked smile, alike yours. He grabs your hips and pulls you on top of him.

"Mr. Sunshine, huh? Is that the title we are establishing?" He asks, stealing your answer away by interrupting you with a kiss. You let his lips run over yours, tongues dancing around each other, already having memorized each other's favorite steps. You lean back, nodding at him.

"You have always been more sunshine than me, anyway." You shrug, your fingers tracing over his chest. Harry's eyes analyze every bit of you, before locking with yours.

"Mr and Mrs. Sunshine, I like that." He hums in approval, his hands gliding up and down your upper thighs. You smile, leaning forward and letting yourself lay on top of him, head tucked in between his neck. Harry's hand immediately digs into your hair, toying with the strands as you take a deep breath. A full one, a safe one, a whole one. Harry's head shifts so his mouth his by your ear, and he whispers:

"I'll have you know that you are the biggest light of a person I know. You're not just Mrs. Sunshine, you are the sun, okay?"

You nod into his neck. "Okay."

[smuttyaf]

Harry Styles Masterlist

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[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 1

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader both intended to be 18 in this story

(warnings): none!

(word count): 2.9k

(author’s note): so long i’m so sorry

hii i decided to split this fic into a mini series cause i have so many ideas and directions for it and i didn’t want to squish it into one long fic, some chapters maybe nsfw ;P i also wrote this with high school in mind, of course Spencer is regular high school age and not like twelve 🤨 but if you’d rather picture them in early college go ahead! also I usually HATEEE when fics have outfit inspos but soz I’m forcing you to imagine these outfits they’re so gorg 😭

okay no more rambling!! if u wanna listen to what i did when i wrote this, here you go!! ➘

“That’s what you’re wearing” Your brother brodie snickered from his bedroom as you strolled past it on the way to the bathroom, usually you wouldn’t have given in to his snide comments, which you were no stranger to. But it was thanksgiving if your brother thought your outfit was ugly, chances are, so would the rest of your family.

Your outfit always happened to be a topic of conversation.

Your movements halt when you finally process what he had said, before slowly taking a few steps backwards meeting his taunting face while he sat on the edge of the bed “What’s wrong with it?” You cock your head feeling the embarrassment trickle through your face up to your ears, usually you wouldn’t care what comments Brodie decided to make about your outfit, but a lot of people were going to be seeing this one.

Honestly you thought it was pretty tame considering the only revealing piece was your skirt, which frankly wasn’t that short, and you thought you had compensated with your boots.

“Why are you wearing… boots?” He laughed looking down at your outfit with furrowed eyebrows before looking back up at your flustered face “and why are they red?”

You scoffed, embarrassment completely diminishing when you find out that was his problem with your outfit “they’re maroon… and you’re wearing a doctor who shirt, don’t think you’re in any position to be judging me” you glare back at him uncrossing your arms.

Honestly, he has absolutely no right to be making fun of your outfit, despite being twins, you were the complete opposites. His outfits usually consist of different coloured converse and some sort of comic book shirt, yours consisting of literally anything else.

“I have a party afterwards anyways, I don’t have time to get changed”

“You have a party on thanksgiving?… who has a party on thanksgiving” Brodie scoffs finishing the lace on his second converse

“A lot of people” you smile sarcastically backing from his door frame to continue your task before you were rudely interrupted “not that you would know” you mumble under your breath before leaving his bedroom.

A little satisfied smile crept upon your face when you heard Brodie’s faint ‘hey!’ Emitting from his bedroom.

You knew your mother would be absolutely furious knowing you had intentions on leaving thanksgiving early to attend a party, which was exactly why you had no plans on telling her. Your family was big enough as is, and considering you had shared thanksgiving with the Reid family for 12 years and counting, with both combined there had to be one, or many pockets for you to escape unnoticed.

The car ride to the Reid family home always seemed so short, always feeling so much longer when you were riding there on bikes, or walking there after school.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had even used your bike, it had to be collecting dust in your garage by now, you truly don’t think you had used it since starting highschool, despite your brother’s efforts to get you to ride to Spencer's house with him, each time you declined, something always more important popping up.

The familiar smell of the house flooded your nose while you took a step in, it always smelt like chai and vanilla, and it always looked like fall threw up on it, decorated with faux autumn leaves and pumpkins all year round, they always just added Santa hats to the pumpkins in December, you knew that was Spencer’s doing.

The wind was almost taken from you while Diana embraced you in the biggest hug, almost knocking over the cupcakes from the tray you were holding, giggling a little you returned the hug one handed of course. She always smelt like the house times ten, the vanilla smell becoming so much stronger the closer you were to her, pulling back she embraced your face in her warm slender hands brushing your cheeks softly with the pad of her thumb.

“You look so beautiful” she smiles, your face turning pink at her compliment, she did this every year. Every year she hugs you, looks like she’s about to cry and then goes on about how beautiful you look for the rest of the night, and every year it makes you feel a little more guilty about not coming around as much.

Both your parents embrace Diana and William before they usher you to the beautifully set dinner table, where the rest of his and your family awaited your arrival, both yours and his grandparents chatting away at the kitchen bench about some sort of football nonsense.

Always in awe of Diana’s meals, you debated on changing your mind and slipping out after dinner instead, not wanting to miss out on her carefully cooked Turkey.

Despite getting swept away in greeting the rest of your family, as well as the rest of the Reid’s, it didn’t take you long to notice one missing Reid.

Regardless of your efforts to talk to Spencer, he never really seemed that interested in befriending you after middle school, every time you tried to talk to him in class he always went quiet and dismissive, or snapped mean answers back at you, and you simply took the hint.

Spencer saw the way your friends snickered to themselves when you tried to speak to him, the way they’d whisper when he walked past, even though you’d smile and wave, he always saw them laugh behind you. He knew deep down it wasn’t your fault, but he couldn’t help but blame you when you never actually stopped any of your friends from making snide comments at him or his friends.

Excusing yourself from your family, you hopped up the stairs, muscle memory walking you towards Spencer’s room before you mind had caught up,

Reading the large ‘S R’ sticker on the bedroom door, you chuckle to yourself a little, staring at the crooked R knowing it was like that cause you couldn’t reach it to meet the S in the fourth grade, Spencer had refused to help you, cackling as he watched you on your tippy toes while you begged him to stop laughing.

Before your mind could even process anything, you brought your arm up to knock on his door, swallowing nervously.

You weren’t even sure why you were nervous, he just seemed to shut down any attempt at being friends and you never knew why. He got along with Brodie just fine, they were honestly really close, they hung out at school everyday and studied together after school on Wednesdays and Fridays, it just seemed like your invitation stopped one day.

The door swung open while your mind had still been dissociated thinking about all the attempts you made to talk to him, snapping you from your brain fog, Spencer stood at the door almost equally as confused as you, honestly you didn’t know why you were there, and as smart as he was, he didn’t know either.

“I brought you a cupcake” you chuckle pushing the baked good towards him with your right hand, eyebrows furrowed he takes a look at the seemingly vanilla cupcake in your hand before looking back up at your eyes.

“I don’t like cupcakes” Spencer shakes his head quickly while his hand grips harder on his door handle, debates in his mind about closing it on you.

“Yes you do” Cocking your head you stare at Spencer confused, he loved cupcakes, he also loved your cupcakes “I literally saw you eating one in the library the other day” you scoff at his obvious lie.

“And why were you in the library” he raises both his eyebrows, glancing back down at the pretty cupcake you had offered him, which he began to quickly regret declining, because he really did love your cupcakes.

“Reading?” You conceded pulling your arm holding the cupcake back “are you implying I don’t read Spencer Reid?” This was the most he had talked to you in months, you never realized you could miss a person's voice despite them being alive and well.

“If the boot fits” he shrugs leaning on his door, the grip on his door handle loosening a little, you stare a little taken back, he doesn’t talk to you for years, and then all of a sudden on thanksgiving he decides he’s going to spit back sassy little comments at you?

“Can you just take the cupcake?.. it’s pumpkin spice” you admitted pushing the sweet back in his direction, a little part of Spencer’s facade broke down, almost giving into the cupcake “I even made the little pumpkin out of fondant… it took forever” you whisper the last part almost talking to yourself.

He tried his hardest to stay strong but you had just about broken him down at this point, with a displeased groan rolling his eyes he reached out to snatch the cupcake from your soft hand, earning a small smile to form on your lips.

It only took him seconds to dig into the treat before a soft chuckle escaped your lips “can I come in?” You smile glancing behind him into his room, it looked almost exactly the same as it did when you were fourteen, posters in the same place, no furniture was rearranged, you even spotted the mini dalek figurine you had bought him on his top shelf.

Hesitantly Spencer nods stepping away from the door frame to welcome you in, his room was always kept neat, sheets tucked perfectly under his mattress, and books always in the correct spot. His weakness, however, was the countless amount of school work pages spread across his desk.

Taking a seat at his desk your eyes still gaze around his room, feeling like a blast from the past, all the books you read, series reruns you watched and stories you wrote coming back to you in a wave of memories.

“So…” he mumbled, mouth still half full with your cupcake before sitting down on the edge of his bed “do you need science homework?” Shrugging boring his eyes back into yours.

You scoff, frankly offended he would even ask you such a thing “no?.. Spencer, you and I have almost the same science grades." You'd be lying if you said you’ve never thought of asking Spencer for homework, especially on nights where cheer practice ran late and you didn’t have nearly enough time to finish, but you’ve never actually asked.

“Yeah almost” scoffing while he brushes his hands against each other wiping the crumbs of the cupcake away, you sat there stunned a little, he knew you’d never ask him considering your friendship… situation, you wouldn’t use him.

You felt the rage boiling in you for a little at his attitude towards you, considering you had done absolutely nothing for him to be mad at you for, sure you weren’t in the same friend group, but he would know more than anyone the statistics of middle school friends drifting apart in highschool, you swivel his desk chair to face his desk, frustrated palming your face with your hands dragging them down a little.

You allow your eyes to rake across his messy paper filled desk before they’re drawn to one page in particular, written in pink pen on beige lined paper, quickly snatching it from the pile you let your eyes scan over it a little before letting out an unexpected laugh.

Catching Spencer’s attention his eyes had almost bulged out of his head once he realized what piece of paper you had in your hands.

“Dear Spencer…” you start reading aloud ignoring Spencer’s loud attempts to make you put it down “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and wanted to let you know-”

“Put it down please” he groans, reaching forwards to grab it from your hands, only for you to snatch it towards you standing up from his desk chair.

“-That I’ve liked you for a while now- Sadie Keller!” You gasp grinning up at Spencer while he makes every attempt to steal the paper back from your grip “you never told me you liked Sadie Keller!” you playfully smack him with the piece of notebook paper before letting him grab it from your grasp.

“I don’t really tell you anything” Spencer crumpled up the paper before tossing it back onto his desk, you face fell a little at his words, only because he was right, he didn’t really tell you anything at all, because he didn’t ever talk to you, because you weren’t really friends.

You almost could’ve sworn you felt a lightbulb click on above your head while you watched Spencer scurry his papers together to make a neat pile “come to a party with me” you rush causing his movements to halt slowly turning his head to meet your gaze.

“Why on earth would I do that… it’s thanksgiving” he reasoned, confusion painted across his face. He simply could not fathom why you would want to take him to a party, he also couldn’t fathom why he was considering it.

“God” you groaned, moving to take a seat on his bed now “people have got to get over that” rolling your eyes you pat down your skirt a little before continuing your attempt to read his face for clues on what was going on inside his head.

“Why would you want to be seen at a party with me?” He queried, attitude dripping from his sentence, watching as your face dropped and your brows furrowed coloured him confused, why would you want to be seen with him?

“Sadie will be there… and I can’t see a potential love story and not indulge” you snicker, almost dismissing his question, you thought you’d spare a sentimental conversation about how much you missed him and instead go an easier route, you wanted him to come for his benefit.

To your surprise, he looks as if he considers it for a while, it was the first time you actually took in what he was wearing, a fitted doctor who shirt and gray sweatpants, the same exact doctor who shirt your brother has on, you cringed a little at the thought that they had coordinated that.

“Fine” he says after a while of silence, you simply cannot help the grin creeping up on your face “but only because of Sadie, and not because of you” he rushes again, almost sounding like something he was trying to convince himself rather than you.

Holding your hands up in defense you smile at his surprising compliance “how are we even supposed to leave without anyone noticing?” Beginning to worry that both your families were beginning to wonder where both of you had gone.

In all seriousness, your family actually had not noticed that the both of you were up in Spencer’s room, and were much more occupied by the game of football they all huddled around to watch.

“Follow me genius”

go to PART TWO

don’t want to miss new chapters? click HERE

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[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

broke the sweetest promise (that you never should have made)

summary: your relationship with lando ends before it can ever really begin

parings: lando norris x ex!reader x harry styles

vicious speaks: this was supposed to be a cute little fic after i was inspired when listening to ‘electric touch’, and now it’s taken on a life of its own! i hope you enjoy this new mini series 💕 i had to make lando the bad guy, i’m sorry 😭 this is just setting the stage so there’s not a lot of harry but don’t worry, he’s in the next part!!

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lando we’re so golden ☀️

tagged yourusername

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yourusername we’re saurrr cute 💛

⤷ lando you definitely are 💛

⤷ fan1 can you put us all out of our misery and DATE ALREADY

⤷ fan2 fr!! yn’s looked like she’s been in love with lando for years and he’s been looking the same way lately 🥹

oscarpiastri two pretty best friends

⤷ yourusername missing our 3rd 😔💔

⤷ fan3 lmao oscar saw the shipping comments and said NOT on my watch 😭

⤷ oscarpiastri she can do better

⤷ lando SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN

⤷ fan5 oscar PLEASE 😭

⤷ fan6 i fear osc isn’t joking

alexandrasaintmleux yourusername give me your hand in marriage NOW 💍💍 i’m SERIOUS

⤷ yourusername i’m all yours baby 😚

⤷ charles_leclerc i’m literally right here?

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux and?

⤷ yourusername is that supposed to mean something to us?

⤷ charles_leclerc damn okay

⤷ fan7 you got humbled so quick dkgjfjs

fan8 harry in the likes, what the hell 😭

⤷ fan9 maybe he’s an f1 fan

⤷ fan10 ooh i hope we’ll see him at a race!!

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yourusername has added to their stories

replies

fan1 IS MY LIFE A JOKE TO YOU

fan2 you’re crazy if you think we believe you’re just friends after this

maxverstappen1 oh my God did it finally happen?

fan3 this is basically a hard launch, right?

oscarpiastri you already know how i feel so i’ll just say that if you’re happy, i’m happy ❤️

fan4 you won’t last long, lando will get bored eventually 🤷‍♀️

yourbff bitch you have some explaining to do

fan5 omg are we about to get love songs for the first time?

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69,654 likes

tmz f1 driver lando norris and singer yn were seen in a pretty heated fight at a studio earlier tonight! apparently lando left her alone in tears. for those who don’t know, he and the singer have been best friends for a few years now, with fans recently speculating online about a relationship confirmation coming soon from the pair but those dreams were crushed when lando was spotted kissing a mystery woman on valentine’s day (see last slide).

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fan1 omg he’s such a WHORE

fan2 YN STANS WE RIDE AT DAWN 🤺

fan3 this is so sad, man. you can tell yn loves him and i thought lando loved her but clearly that isn’t true. she deserves so much better!!

fan4 leaving her alone in tears is such an evil move…lando norris you shall die by my sword

fan5 it was clear lando wasn’t ever going to see her as a serious option. she did this to herself!!

⤷ fan6 yn didn’t do anything to herself, lando is the one who keeps stringing her along, especially lately.

fan7 our girl needs to cut lando off, take time to heal and when she’s ready, move on with someone who actually loves her. ♥︎ by yourusername

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fan1 damn tell us how you really feel 😭

fan2 this isn’t the confirmation post i wanted but i guess i’ll take it 🤷‍♀️

fan3 the fucking shade 😭😭

yourbff GET HIS ASS!

fan4 leave lando alone you weirdo

maxverstappen1 this is more information about lando than i ever wanted to know but i can appreciate what you’re doing it for

fan5 me when i lie

fan6 this is diabolical

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itsaria has added to their stories

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fan1 oh girl this is not it

fan2 this isn’t the serve you think it is

fan3 there’s still time to delete this

fan4 wow you really feel no shame in homewrecking

lando ❤️

⤷ itsaria you need to set the record straight about yn. people are in my dms calling me a homewrecker and i didn’t sign up for that shit, lando.

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lando has added to their stories

*replies have been disabled*

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yourusername i never wanted to bring this to social media but i was made aware that lando released a statement today that as you can see from above, is full of nothing but lies. we’ve been best friends for a few years now and i had been in love with him for almost all of them. we recently admitted our feelings for each other and decided to see where things would go between us. it was new, but we were relationship and he did cheat on me. i don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling but i haven’t seen or spoken to him since that night at the the studio and things between us are obviously not fine. i’m also pretty sure aria had no idea about me so please do not attack her. this is the last time i’m going to speak about this situation, as i want to move on with my life.

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theynsociety still not over taylor and yns surprise performance last night!!

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fan8 i’ve missed her so much!! she was literally glowing last night 🥹🫶

fan9 the fit!! THE HAIR!!! i have a feeling we’re about to enter her best era yet

fan10 harry’s always popping up in the most random places 😭

fan11 it’s been a long month, but clearly this break is doing wonders for her 😍

fan12 harry styles yn fan confirmed? ♥︎ by harrystyles

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taglist: @pansexualdarling