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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years ago

Text

Puppy love.

summary: Harry finally makes his lover’s wishes come true when they adopt a dog together.

word count: 2.2k

based on this request:

��please could you write a cute domestic puppy piece? Maybe just lazy day / taking their pup for a walk 🥺 and maybe y/n is pregnant and the puppy is super protective”

a/n: send me more ideas pls, i’m in a writing mood but idk what to write haha

you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Usually when people decide to adopt a dog, they’re always secretly looking for a puppy, thinking it’d be easier to handle rather than an older dog. It was quite sad, to be honest. There were dozens, if not hundreds of animals looking for a home, waiting to be adopted and it wasn’t fair people ignored big dogs with the excuse that they could be aggressive. Well, at least it to Y/N, it wasn’t fair. A dog was something she’s been wanting for a while. And was also the one thing Harry has been unable to give her. Tight schedules, interviews, traveling and touring were a few reasons why they haven’t adopted a pet, leaving it as the only desire Y/N had that Harry was yet to fulfill.

But today was the day. Y/N has finally convinced Harry and they were on their way to the shelter, ready to meet as many dogs as they could with the hope of finding the one. She wasn’t looking for anything in specific, telling herself she’d go with an open mind.

“We can take one, love.” Harry remained her when they went out of the car, intertwining their fingers as they walked inside of the building. He knew the moment they walked in, his girlfriend would be bawling her eyes out because she can’t take every single one of the dogs home with them.

“This is the best day of my life.” She whispered in excitement and Harry chuckled at the way her eyes light up.

“Oh, evening. What can I do for you?” A middle aged woman spoke from behind her desk, offering them a friendly smile while pushing her glasses.

“We’re here to—”

“We’d like to adopt.” Y/N interrupted him, squeezing his hand.

The woman’s smile grew bigger as she stood up from her chair, taking a set of keys from her desk. “Alright. Follow me, please.” She gestured the door that was a couple of steps from where they were standing and started walking, Harry and Y/N just behind her. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No. We, uh, we’d like to look around for a bit, if that’s okay.” Harry said.

“That’s fine, you can take your time.” She smiled at them then opened the door, revealing dozens of dogs in every color and every size. The animals started barking and jumping in their places. Y/N’s eyes filled with instant tears when she saw they had them in cages.

She sniffed and Harry looked down at her, concerned. He furrowed his eyebrows then squeezed her hand, trying to soothe her. “Thank you.” He said to the woman before passing through her and entered the room. For a moment he felt slightly overwhelmed for all the barking and noise the dogs were making, but he quickly recovered when Y/N let go of his hand to kneel in front of a Pomeranian. “He’s cute.”

“His name is Barry, oh my god.” She practically squealed as she read the little card that was attached to the dog’s cage. “Harryyy.” Y/N practically dragged the words, too excited to care.

“He arrived last month.” The woman commented from behind.

“Hi, baby. What a good boy”

Harry started to walk around the room, observing a few dogs himself. He was obviously going to let her pick their new pet, being okay with whatever she desired. But look around wouldn’t hurt either. They spent a little time apart, but Harry was still able to hear Y/N’s squeals as well as his name being called at least a hundred times whenever she knelt in front of another dog.

He smiled as small Chihuahua started barking at him. The little fella was so small it could easily fit on Harry’s big hand, and he knew his baby would love it so he called for her.

“You like this one?” She asked, smiling at the dog. “Her name’s Pippa. Oh my god, who picks their names? I’m gonna cry.”

“A few volunteers like to name them. They come a few times a week.”

Y/N nodded at the woman, returning her vision at Harry. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know. You choose, baby.” He smiled sweetly at her.

“Okay. Come see this one, I was just with him when you called me.” She took his hand in hers and pulled from him gently. Harry let her lead him to whatever part of the room she previously was and his eyes winded when he saw a beautiful Siberian husky laying on the floor.

The dog itself looked majestic in his opinion. It was a big ball of fur with a pair of beautiful, crystal blue eyes that were looking directly at him. “His name’s Thor. He’s so adorable, isn’t he?”

“Ah, I see you found Thor. Poor thing’s been looking for a home for quite some time now. A few people come by and see him but never adopt him.”

“Why wouldn’t someone want him?”

“Big dogs aren’t always practical, Sir.”

Harry pouted unconsciously. “I know he’s large, but look at him.” His girlfriend made puppy eyes at him, and he could tell she was trying to hold it together after hearing no one wanted to adopt Thor.

“He’s perfect.” He turned to the woman. “We’d like to take him with us, please.”

“You don’t want to discuss it first?”

“No need. He’s the one.” The green eyed man said confidently.

Thor might look like a whole ass wolf, but in reality he was the biggest softie you’d ever met in your life. In the ride back home, Y/N sat in the back of the car with him, and the dog immediately put his head on her lap, its tail never stopped moving as she scratched its ears. Being almost 2ft, Thor occupied pretty much the whole backseat, leaving Y/N squeezed by the window, not that she minded.

“How are we feeling, uh?” Harry asked after a while.

“He’s perfect. Do you think we have everything we need at home for him? I want him to be comfortable.”

Yesterday they had gone on a trip to the store to buy everything they thought they might need to welcome their new pet into their home. Two bowls for water and food, a couple of collars and leashes to take him out, every toy the store had available and a bed.

The only thing they were lacking was dog food, but it was because they didn’t know which dog they’d take from the shelter and didn’t want to buy the wrong one.

“We can make a quick stop at the store for food, it’s on the way home.”

Y/N smiled, sighing happily while leaning down to hug Thor. She got lost on all its fur, nuzzling him gently. She had read stories about how dogs from shelters often tended to act aggressively at first, as they probably had a bad life before, but she was glad Thor wasn’t like that.

“Thor, come right here!”

The large dog ran outside the house and towards Y/N, thinking he was being summoned to play in the backyard, but was met with its owner standing next to a massive whole in the ground, where Y/N’s freshly planted daisies were supposed to be.

“Jesus Christ, look at you!” She exclaimed. Thor’s white fur was now brown because of all of the dirt he played with. “Daddy gave you a shower yesterday.”

At hearing the word ‘daddy’, Thor started jumping around while barking happily, starting to run around in look for Harry. Suddenly, Y/N wasn’t mad at him anymore for destroying her garden, instead, her heart melted at how adorable he was.

Yeah, Thor could dig a hole in the ground whenever he wanted and he could send all her flowers flying if that’s what made him happy.

Today but six months ago, Harry and Y/N were on their way to the nearest shelter to finally adopt a pet together, not knowing Thor would be entering their life with its chaotic personality and its big heart, changing their life forever. Having a dog together definitely made the couple closer and stronger, as Thor basically became their child.

They celebrated with a day out. The couple took Thor to the dog park, playing with him for hours. The big husky loved to chase Harry around until the both of them were in the ground, the dog lapping his face happily. Sometimes Thor forgets its size and acted like a baby, practically begging Harry to lift him and carry him around.

There were several pictures the next day of them at the park, and the fans were collapsing over the content of Harry with Thor. Y/N thought one specific picture of the three of them walking down the street and back to their car looked so cute that she had to post it with the caption ‘six’, again making everyone die out of love.

One of the things Harry did first thing in the morning was go for a run. Now, before he used to go alone, as he always let Y/N sleep a little longer, but now he had an exercise buddy to take in as many runs he wanted. They were usually out for an hour or so, and when they were back, Thor always went straight to his water bowl first then to his bed to take a nap. However, after he hydrated, he went straight upstairs to the master bedroom.

Harry followed him upstairs, seeing with a smile how the dog jumped on the bed and cuddled with Y/N. Thor was a cuddler, it was no secret, so he going with her wasn’t a surprise for Harry. It was only when Harry sat down beside them and Thor started whining that the man grew confused. Thor put its head on top of Y/N’s stomach, looking at Harry.

“What’s wrong, mate?” He asked as he extended his arm to scratch the dog’s head.

Y/N started moving, fluttering her eyes open and smiling softly when her vision caught her favorite boys there. “Morning.”

“Morning, precious.” Harry smiled. “Just came back from out run.”

“Have you showered yet?” He shocks his head. “Then go, I’ll start breakfast.” She leaned towards him to kiss his check before standing up. “How do you feel about banana pancakes?”

“Sounds delicious.”

Y/N walked out of the room with Thor right behind her. Harry shrugged off Thor’s previously odd behavior and went to take a shower. After he was done, he went downstairs and to the kitchen where he found his girlfriend flipping some pancakes with Thor laying closely by her feet.

Thor’s odd behavior continued for a few days, always wanting to be as close as possible to Y/N and nearly panicking whenever she left his sight. He’d lay by her feet or on her lap if she was on the couch, and he’d follow her around like her personal bodyguard if she was on the move.

At first it was quite adorable, but then Thor started whining whenever Harry wanted to come closer, not allowing him to cuddle with Y/N.

In the seventh day, Y/N started to feel sick, she’d wake up and throw up first thing in the morning. They thought it was just something she ate, thinking it would go away in a few days. But then she started to throw up more and more and Harry started panicking, so they went to the doctor.

“We’ll run a few tests to find out what’s wrong, including a pregnancy one.”

“P-pregnancy?” Harry shuttered.

“I’m not pregnant, doctor.” Y/N assured.

“We might as well be sure.”

The results arrived in just half an hour, but it surely felt like an eternity. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the pregnancy test. He’d be lying if he said a part of him was excited to know whether he has created a new life with the love of his life or not, but he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. And the other part of him was terrified of the possibility of Y/N being pregnant.

When they were finally back with the doctor, Harry held Y/N’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She looked at him and he gave her a smile, assuring her that no matter what the results said, they’d be fine.

“Congratulations, you’ll be parents.” The doctor lifted her head from the papers, offering the both of them a gentle smile. “You’re three months pregnant, what explains the morning sickness you’ve been experiencing.”

Harry sat there in shock, the fact that he was actually going to be a father finally hitting him. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. His head snapped up, his eyes looking for Y/N’s. “You’re gonna be a mum.”

Y/n choked a sob, standing from her place at the same time as Harry and hugged him tightly. He pulled her closer to his chest as he kissed the top of her head, a few tears rolling down from his eyes.

“I guess I’m having your baby, eh?” Now it was Harry’s turn to choke a sob, barely able to speak due all the emotions he was feeling right now.

“Can you believe Thor knew first?” Harry said when they were finally inside of their car again, ready to drive back home.

“What do you mean?”

“Dogs can tell if a woman is pregnant.” He said. “And that would explain why he behaved like he did.”

“Like what?”

“He panicked whenever you weren’t in the room, always followed you around. He even waited for you outside of the bathroom!”

“He just loves me more than he loves you.” She joked.

“Yeah, but he will love our baby even more.”

Our baby.

Didn’t sound that bad, didn’t it?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

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trulymadlysydney · 3 years ago

Note

the morning of the first day of tour and you decided to tag along with Harry for the first few shows. So the night before, you two just fooled around in the hotel suite after getting back from rehearsals. Maybe you both did a little meditation session, had a masseuse called to the room, because he’s never a anxious wreck anymore, but he does get a little nervous especially the night before a first show (you get more nervous than he does because you’re amazed that he’s able to stand up on a stage in front of thousands of people every few days, like how does he manage to do that?) though he tries to treat the night like a regular night, he likes to do those little things to center himself. And maybe you wake up a few minutes before his alarm goes off and he’s asleep next to you and you’re just admiring his face, nervous/excited/giddy about today and you turn his alarm off before it rings and push his hair off his forehead and start softly kissing his cheeks, eyelids, chin, then quickly kissing his face all over, whispering “Harryyy” and his eyes barely open as his arms move to wrap around your waist to pull you closer as he shoves his face into your neck. And you laugh as he’s squeezing your middle, tickling you a little and you say softly in a singsong voice into his ear “time to wake up” your hand in his hair softly massaging his bed head, “got a show today”. And he leans back away from your neck, and looks at you with a sleepily smile and goes in to kiss you. And he breaks away with a even wider sleepy grin and says in his just woken up voice “hi” and you laugh a little “hi rockstar” with a giddy smile going back in to kiss him, breaking to kiss onto his cheek with a “you’ve got to get up” and he’s all “oh? I do? ” as one of his hands moves to your neck to caress it as he’s turning his head so that he can meet your lips again and all “Harry c’mon now you’ve really got to get up” because you both can’t get carried away right now and it’s very easy for the both of you to get carried away because you’re both so into each other, but no, that can’t happen today, and he’s sighing defeat and hanging his head as he tickling into your sides a little again as you’re trying to break away, you’re hands going back into his hair, to scratch at his scalp a little as you’re looking at each other and say to him “got a show today” and as he goes back in for a little kiss (that you allow because one more for good luck right?) and he’s parting from you repeating “got a show today” before he gets up from the bed and start his day. And maybe you both are enjoying this quiet little bit of time you both have with each other before his phones ringing off the hook with ppl from his team calling to check on him and going in for sound checks. So it’s as normal of a morning as you both can have, you call in a breakfast order to be brought up in an hour as Harry goes to start the shower. You’re bumping into each other’s hips as you watch each other brush their teeth in the mirror. Playfully applying serums and moisturizers to each other’s face after washing them. And yeah maybe you have a quick fuck in shower because Harry grabbed onto your hand as you were about to leave the bathroom, “shower with me” and you’re all “Harry, I ordered breakfast up it’ll be here soon” and his thumb is caressing your inner wrist and he goes all “🥺 please, won’t take that long, I swear” and you agree because it IS his day. But yea, it wasn’t that quick lol , because you’re scrambling out of the shower after you finally realize someone’s at the door. And for some reason you both feel like you’ve been caught like teenagers as the two of you are jumping out of the shower and hastily drawing on robes, Harry slipping a little to which you yelled “Harry!! Holy fuck be careful?!? why are you even getting out?!?” And he’s all realizing like “I?!??….don’t know?”) as you scramble to door to get your breakfast. And yeah you both enjoy the what’s left of the quiet time before the chaotic thrill of the show in your comfy hotel robes over breakfast and another (real) shower

Oh my god….. just trying to keep him happy and calm before the show and you guys are having so much fun together and it’s so giggly and also you’re so turned on because like GOD he is such a super star…. No I’m losing it

#Harry chats

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years ago

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The tape

Your pov:

“H, do you have anything on Monday?”

Harry walked out of the bathroom, towel low on his waist, water dripping from his hair. “No..” he paused and looked down at his feet before shaking his head and smiling. “No I don’t think so. Maybe a FaceTime call with the boys but that should be it. And thats only if we decide to do that. You know how Louis has been lately with the reunion project.”

You nodded and smiled, rolling out of bed and walking over to him. You raised an eyebrow as he tugged you against his chest. His lips pressed to yours and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pulled away slightly and grinned. “Good. Because you and I have plans.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s lips pressed to your neck.

“Mhm.” you laughed softly. “We have things to do. Places to be.”

“There are things we need to do now.” Harry growled, his lips touching your ear. He lightly bit your earlobe and tugged. You could feel his length pressing up against the towel and into your waist. Harry’s hands tugged at his shirt on your body. “Starting with this coming off...” Harry had the shirt pulled over your head when the phone rang. He sighed loudly and looked at you. “Don’t move.”

You laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Yes sir.” you said laying back on the bed. Harry took one more look at you while standing in the bedroom doorway and turned back with a devious smile.

“Fuck it, they will eventually hang up.” He walked back over to you, his body falling in between your legs, the towel falling to the floor. Harry’s lips tugged at yours. His tongue flooded into your mouth and his hands moved their way down your bare chest. His fingers were rolling around your now hardened nipples when the doorbell rang again. Harry ignored it, his tongue slowly making its way down your body. He sucked and gently bit the sensitive skin on your boob, smiling knowing the mark would be there for the next few days. His tongue was at your belly button when his phone rang again, along with several other text notifications. He stood up with a groan, walking over to the phone.

“Harryyy” you whined, your heat dripping between your thighs from the anticipation.

“Hello?” he answered holding up a finger to wait.. “What do you mean? No, there shouldn’t be any stories out, I’ve been with (y/n) all weekend....Fuck okay I’m coming.” Harry looked at you and and you sighed as he dug through his drawers. You stood up and walked into the bathroom to clean up since this didn't seem to be going anywhere now. Harry was now getting angry. You could hear him yelling into his phone frustrated with whoever was on the other side. You jumped in the shower and once you were done, Harry seemed to be finished with his call. He had gotten fully dressed and smiled softly when you walked back into the room.

“Where are you going?” you asked confused. He was dressed for some kind of meeting it looked like.

“I have to go talk to my management team...”

“Why? Wait, no. We were supposed to go out...Harry we've had this date night planned for weeks and the guys are all expecting us....”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry...I don't have a choice here...”

“Babe-”

“(y/n) look I can’t go anymore okay? I’m sorry but thats just how its going to be tonight.”

Your mouth dropped. Harry rarely got angry at you and when he did it was normally your fault. This was out of line. “Whatever.” you turned and walked back into the bathroom, locking the door.

“Babe I’m sorry..” He knocked softly on the door. “I didn't mean to yell...”

You didn’t answer but you heard him leave. You sighed and rolled your eyes annoyed he had ruined the moment and gotten angry. You were also annoyed he was putting management above you. You were supposed to be the most important thing in his life. At least that’s what he had told you when you had argued last time about him not being home enough.

Niall’s pov:

Niall was sat around a table with Louis and Liam. They were all joking about how Harry and (y/n) never got the time or date right when they had planned an outing. They also joked about how Harry had to bring (y/n) to everything. Not that they didn’t love her, but it kind of defeated the point about a guys night. She had gone through so much with them though...from One Direction days to solo albums. She had been there through it all, making sure all of the guys stayed in touch during the hiatus. The waitress was just setting drinks down when everyone’s phones started blowing up. No one seemed bothered by the fact their phones were all blowing up. Liam was flirting with the waitress and Louis was backing him up. Niall picked up his phone, read the first message, and reads aloud mocking the article title, “HARRY STYLES SEX TAPE LEAKED!”

“Give it a rest.” Louis laughs. “Harry is more careful with that kind of stuff than anyone I have ever met.”

“It’s just a hoax like the rest of them, made to get views and people talking. Management probably leaked it.” Liam added winking at the waitress across the room.

Niall hasn’t looked up, he’s scrolling through the article and clicking play on the video. Niall’s face pales and his mouth drops. The guys all look at him concerned that he hasn’t joked back. “What is it?” Louis asks trying to take the phone.

Niall places the phone down on the table for everyone to see. ‘It’s not fake.....”

“Shi-” Louis starts but Niall shakes his head.

“It’s also not (y/n).” he finishes looking up at them.

“No way. There’s no way.” Liam shakes his head.

“What do we do?” Niall asks laughing uncomfortably.

“We need to call Harry. What if they don't know.”

“It’s trending on Twitter, there’s absolutely no fucking way he doesn’t know. The real question is...does (y/n) know?” Louis shakes his head.

“She’s probably pissed.” Liam adds taking a sip of his drink.

“No she’s probably upset. No wonder they didn’t come.” Niall stands up. “We should go check on her. Make sure she’s okay..she what happened when they found out. They’ve been dating for years, this is going to kill her.”

The guys nodded, leaving money on the table and standing up. Louis laughs, “Niall the hero, saving (y/n) from her despair.”

“Shut up Louis.” Niall shakes his head. “This isn't about me.”

“Oh yeah, didn't you have a crush on her like when they first started dating?” Liam laughs.

“Yeah, but clearly that’s been over. She’s just my friend. I want to make sure she’s okay.” He led the guys from the restaurant and jumped in the car, map questing directions to Harry’s house.

Your pov:

Harry had been gone almost an hour and you had yet to hear anything from him. You were just laying on the couch watching reruns of friends when someone knocked at your door. You sighed and stood up, running to answer it. You smiled as the door opened. “Niall!” You hugged him tightly and then moved on to the others. “Lou!” Louis laughed uncomfortably and you gave him a confused look before moving to Liam. “Liam...” Liam was shifting nervously not looking at you and you stepped back. Paparazzi were rushing towards the gate so you moved the party inside. “What’s wrong?” you asked. They all looked like they were going to be sick...Niall kept looking like he was sorry. Liam looked away every time you looked at him and Louis just had his lips pressed together.

“Did you forget about lunch?” Louis asked grabbing your arm and pulling you to the couch.

You sighed. “Lunch? I thought we were doing dinner...is that why you are all upset. I’m sorry about not showing up...Harry just got a call and left without even saying anything.”

“A call about what?” Liam asked sitting across from you on the couch.

“I’m not sure....management called but he didn’t say where he was going. Why? What do you guys know that I don't?”

They all looked away. Niall sighed and pulled out his phone. “Have ya checked Twitter at all today?”

“No....why?” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it. Louis pulled it from your hands. “What the hell Louis?”

Louis looked at the guys and shook his head. “This isn’t our fight. Harry should talk to her about it...not us. He’s going to be pissed we got involved.”

“It revolves around her though. She’s tagged in it all. She has a right to know.” Niall argued. “Harry shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

“Done what?” you felt sick. What was going on? What was Harry hiding? Why were the guys acting like this? You looked at Liam. He had been like an older brother to you for years. “Liam.”

Liam sighed and nodded to Louis. “She needs to know. When we leave she’s going to figure it out. We need to be here for her when she does.” Louis nodded and handed your phone back. You stared at all of them confused.

“Why are you treating me like I’m not sitting right next to you?”

“Just look at the phone...” Niall sighed.

You pulled up Twitter. You have over 4,000 notifications which was never a good sign. You clicked on the first one reading out loud, “Harry doesn’t deserve (y/n). She’s too good for this.” You clicked another. “I feel so sorry for (y/n)...Maybe there's an explanation.” The last one you clicked had your mind spinning. “Imagine just waking up and finding out that not only has your boyfriends sex tape been leaked but also that its not featuring you. Here for you (y/n).” Tears were flooding your eyes when you looked up at Niall. “It’s not true....right? Tell me it’s not true....” Louis scooted closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulder.

“I mean technically we don’t really know...”

“What the hell do you mean Louis. We all watched the video at lunch.” Niall was pissed he was pacing back and forth between the two couches.

You shook your head. You were now crying. Louis was rubbing your back and you fell into his lap. “No. It can’t be real.” Liam moved over and sat next to you. He held your hand and gently squeezed. “I want to see it.” You looked up, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I want to see proof.”

Niall sighed and clicked on the original link before handing you the phone. You carefully read every line and clicked the video. Your stomach flipped. Harry was in his room, your room. He was naked, his tattoos clearly visible. There was a girl. It wasn’t you. He was kissing her, she was stripping, he was pulling his pants down. He didn’t seem to be drunk. He was talking dirty to her. He called her beautiful. He had sex with her. You flew up from the couch, running to the bathroom. Niall was at your side. You threw up, the video you had just watched had physically made you ill. Harry had cheated on you. He had filmed it. It was out in the public now. Niall held back your hair and Louis brought a cup of water. “(y/n)...” Liam started.

You sank to the floor, your back against the toilet. You were sobbing. You couldn’t breathe. The boys looked like they were contemplating how to handle this. “When did this come out?” you asked looking at him.

“We aren't sure exactly...we saw the notifications at lunch-”

“So Harry was having sex with me or trying to when all of this was happening. He was trying to fuck me when his fucking sex tape was released to the public.”

“Uh-” Louis tried interrupting but you kept going.

“Harry cheated on me. After 7 years. He just decided to fuck someone else?” you were processing everything in your head out loud to the boys who had no idea what to say. “What did I do?” you cried harder. Louis sighed and pulled you into a tight hug.

“You didn’t do anything love. Harry’s mistakes are his own. They don't revolve around you. He’s a fucking idiot for doing it.”

“We don’t know the full story either...I mean we all know how media twists stories...”

“Liam, he’s having sex with-with another girl. What full story is there that makes that okay?” Liam closed his mouth and sighed. You let Louis pull you to your feet. “I want to leave.”

“What?” Louis asked confused.

“I want out of this house. I don’t want to be here when Harry gets back either. I want to leave.” Louis handed you a tissue and nodded.

“You can come to my place love, I’ll wait with ya.”

“We all will.” Niall added and Liam nodded. Niall grabbed an extra pair of clothes and some toiletries while Louis helped you out to the car. The paparazzi were all shouting questions asking what the story was. You wished you knew. Liam handed you your phone but you shook your head.

“I don’t want it. I don’t want to see anymore.” He nodded sadly and sat in the drivers seat. Niall joined with a bag of your things and you all drove to Louis’. L

ouis set you up in his guest bedroom and asked if you needed anything. You shook your head and pulled off your shirt. Louis turned around but you didn’t care at this point. You threw on a pair of comfy sweatpants that Niall had grabbed you along with a crop top. You wiped your tears and snot on your old shirt and crawled into bed. You had finally stopped crying but you were exhausted.

“We are going to order some food...anything sound good?”

You shook your head no, not trusting any words that might come out of your mouth. Louis nodded and closed the door softly, not wanting anymore tears to begin. Your mind was moving a hundred miles a minute and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and tugged the blanket to your chin. Images of Harry and that girl flashed through your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you woke up. You heard doors slamming, Niall shouting, Liam trying to diffuse the situation, but overall you heard one very loud and clear deep voice. “Where is she? Louis tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!”

---

So I got this as a request and ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I actually was planning on using the first part of this as a similar story but when this request came through I decided to mesh the two together. Hope you enjoy!

Check out part 2 here: The tape (part 2)

xoxo

#one direction #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #directioners #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson #niall horan fanfiction #Niall Horan #liam payne #liam payne fanfiction

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angelisverba · 5 years ago

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but i wanna play daddy

in which y/n doesn’t listen to her daddy, and mafialeader!harry doesn’t fucking play.

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of drugs and violence. +angst.

yes, inspired by the snl episode (but nowhere nearly as gangster as that). got another one based on the jason skit coming soon ;)

“Harryyy,” she whined.

Y/n sat on the couch, legs crossed and foot bouncing as she watched Harry with a pout on her face.

It was a Wednesday. The busiest day of the week. Work from Monday was still getting finished, and more work started to end by Friday.

Y/n knew better than to mess with Harry on a Wednesday.

But, watching him with one of his burner phones pressed in between his shoulder and ear, one hand cuffing up his white shirt sleeve and gun hostler unbuttoned and jostling on his broad shoulders. Not to mention, his green pin-stripped trousers that looked as if they would burst at the seams with every stride he took. Y/n just couldn’t help herself. Pinching at his thighs with grabby hands from her spot on the couch, to where he stood on the opposite side of the coke-glass coffee table.

She’s being bold. She knows this, knows better than to mess with the fucking king pin of London.

Harry was no nice guy.He’s known for gunshots to the head when his orders aren’t followed. Broken noses if you look at him the wrong way. And god help anyone who tried to betray him.

Currently, his eyebrows were furrowed and he had that cold glint in his eyes, lips pressed hard against each other to form a hard line. Voice menacing, almost like that one time y/n walked in on his pushing a guy up against the wall by his throat, asking where the fuck is my money?

She’d been so frightened that time. She remembers standing the the doorway, whatever question she wanted to ask had died in her throat; reduced to a mousy squeak. Harry had seen her, dropped the man like a doll and his face instantly an entirely different demeanor. He’d murmured to someone else in the room to take care of this fucker and that night he made love to her all night long. Sweaty, desperate ruts, begging her to forgive him, that he wasn’t a bad guy (not with her at least) that he loved her, kissing all on her throat.

He only ever when putty in her hands. If she asked, he’d put a bullet through the head of the Queen of England.

When Harry first felt nails grazing above his kneecap, he swatted off her hands like he would a fly, turning his head sideways as his fingers quickly folded back the cuffs of his shirt.

His eyes had said he wasn’t in the mood to play.

And he wasn’t.

Harry was in the middle of receiving the news of delayed shipment, letting the flustered employee explain themselves when he felt, again, the scratches of his girl’s fingers, this time mid thigh. Not knowing that Harry was a finger pinch away from cursing out the stupid imbecile on the other side of the phone, y/n looped her fingers on Harry’s waistband, and tried to pull it down.

Faster than she could register, Harry hung up the phone, threw it in the tabletop, and grabbed her wrists to push her back flush against the couch.

“Daddy’s not in the mood to play right now, sweet pea. You better watch it,” he had her hands pinned above her head, his lips pulled back as he spoke, threatening; like a dog on his haunches.

She leaned up, and licked a fat stripe up the side of Harry’s face and said, “but I wanna play, daddy.”

Her eyes were half hooded, pupils glazed over with lust and lips parted with anticipation.Her mind was a boggled, swampy mess full of harry, harry, harry. She needed him, wanted him, yearned for him to do as he pleased with her.

“I said I’m not in the mood to play, didn’t I?” He said, tone intimidating and even.

She hummed absentmindedly, her back arching and hips wriggling, hoping to get anything from the man above her. Anything to sate her ache.

“Use your words, y/n. Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Tsk-tsk. Know what happens when you disobey me?” Harry dips his head down, nose skimming the column of her throat, and placing a wet kiss on her collarbone. He nearly went further, the low neckline of the pretty slip dress enticing him.

But he remembered he had a fucking job to do and men to reprimand. Lessons to teach. One of them being patience to the girl underneath him, to spank her until she learned enough was enough.

“Yes, daddy,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

She felt as if she were a coiled spring, one release away from the action.

Then, “Be ready when I get back home, little brat. Got it?” And he leans in to her as if he’s gonna kiss her, but laughs at her meanly, and kinda throws his hands off his own before getting back up, readjusting his pants and clasping the gun holster across his chest. Harry picked up the burner phone from the table, and scooped up his suit jacket from the back of the couch, holding it by a hooked pointer finger over his shoulder and walked away.

Y/n pushed herself up onto her elbows with a dejected frown on her face, eyes watering and her heart breaking just a little. She’d just wanted some attention.

He’s gone for so long throughout the day, and he looks so good before he leaves.

The night before he’d fucked her. A slow, long, lazy sex session where they’d been impossibly to each other. The type of fuck that left her wanting for more, and he did give her more. He gave her much more. Made her come on his tongue, his fingers, and his cock.

And call her greedy, but she woke up that morning with her clit throbbing; wanting a continuation of what happened the night before. Her mind still in that post-orgasmic state, not yet deciphering that it was a different day, but rather focusing on needing to cum again.

She didn’t think that warranted for a punishment.

She watched him walk away, burner phone pressed against his ear and a guard meeting with him at the door, another coming in to stand at the closed emerald doors, throwing a fleeting glance at y/n before taking a protective stance at his post.

Sighing, she got up and went up the dark stairs with the end of her dress in one of her hands, the golden rail biting cold at her soft palm. Her mind is an endless whirlwind of anxiety and want. She wanted Harry to kiss her. Hold her. Tell her she was pretty and good. Not for harry to spank her. Not to tease her. Not to tell her she was a brat or a bad girl. She didn’t mean to make him mad. No, in fact, she hoped he would’ve smiled at her sweetly and dropped the phone to devote all his attention to her. Kiss all on her. Cuddle with her. Because it’s what she wanted.

Now look at her. She’s the bad girl with a punishment pending when she gets home.

With a pout on her lips, she tucked herself under the velvet covers of her and Harry’s shared bed, feeling awfully small in a very large space.

She didn’t wake again until she heard the loud slam of the emerald doors closing, and the tapping of Harry’s shoes on the stairs.

Her stomach grumbled, and she needed to pee.

In muddy efforts to avoid Harry, she scrambled out of bed, her legs kicking like dogs when they ran really fast in cartoons, and hurried to the restroom. She shut the door behind her, and locked it; reached down to the hem of her dress, and threw it over her head. Y/n did her business on the toilet, washed her hands and splashed her face so it wouldn’t look like she was sleeping. The water was really cold, and it made her whine when it touched her skin, a few droplets dripping onto her exposed breasts.

It felt as if she was running on premeditated orders, her actions practiced and mechanical.

She doesn’t remember unlocking and opening the door, but, suddenly, she’s standing in the doorway and Harry is sitting on the edge of their bed, elbows resting on his knees, his chin on one of his palms, and he’s watching her with the uttermost intensity.

He perks up when she stills, lifting his head and upper-body to the space on his lap is clear, and his eyebrow raises expectantly. His silent command makes y/n’s shoulder’s slump. Any chance at explaining herself, she feels, is far gone. Harry’s expression is one of business; he’s going to teach her a lesson.

When she doesn’t move, he says, “Don’t make me go over there and get you, baby.”

She shuddered, and slumped some more as she took her first steps towards him, head hung down like a puppy’s. Her skin rose with goosebumps, and heated under his gaze. When she got close enough, Harry reached out, and placed his hands on either sides of her hips, yanking her so she laid with her nipples brushing his calves, and her clit ribbing against his thighs. He groaned when she pressed back against the palm that rubbed on her ass cheek.

“Now, y/n” he squeezes her harshly, and lets go to rub over it, “tell me why I’m doing this.”

“Because... because I didn’t listen this morning,” she mewls, withering underneath his touch. She feels the inside of her walls growing warmer, slicker, and before she knows it she’s dripping down onto Harry’s pants. Her nails dig into Harry’s shins, bracing herself and also trying to ground herself because he hadn’t even started yet.

“That’s right, princess. I told you to behave yourself because, daddy had things to do, but you didn’t listen.” Harry leans forward to catch a glimpse of her face, his hands still kneading at her skin. He smirks when he sees that her eyes are screwed shut, and her mouth parts open when he dips his finger to collect her moisture. “Baby, you’re makin’ a mess of my trousers.”

Harry’s accent always intensifies when it drops to this sexy drawl he only ever uses in certain situations with y/n. This only riles her up more, and she shuts her thighs to stop him from teasing her even further.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, mouthing at the cloth covering his leg.

A sharp thwack fills the room when Harry’s hands meets y/n’s skin, his rings adding an extra bite to the sting of his palm, making her lurch forward with the hit. “Sorry, who? Who are you talking to, y/n?” He tuts his tongue, massaging over the pink hand print on y/n ass, his dick bloating at the sight of his mark. She shifts, the mound of her pussy pressing down into the head of his cock, and Harry has to clench his jaw to hold back a moan.

“Daddy,” y/n mewls, “I’m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to be a bad girl, daddy. Just wanted some attention. Please, please, daddy, I’m sorry,” She cries.

Usually, Harry wouldn’t think anything of it. Y/n can be a real brat sometimes and she’ll fake crying if it means she’ll get what she wants because she knows she has a mafia king’s heart at the palm of her fucking hand.

But this is different. Y/n had opened her mouth and her shoulders started shaking, her words cut off with sobs that rake through her entire body. She’s breathing in choppy blubbers, one syllable escaping before it’s cut off with tears.

And, he’s not going to lie, he’s scared. Scared, because he’s really not sure what he’s done, and whether or not her game has increased tenfold, or if she’s really upset or why she’s upset.

Nonetheless, he stops what he’s doing, and lifts her up, one hand at her bicep, and the other at her thigh, opening it so she’s straddling him. The sight of her face breaks his heart. She’s red, teary, and her eyes are swollen. And she yelps when the side of her butt with Harry’s palm print touches his thigh, whining when Harry’s hand comes in between her butt and his thigh.

“Baby girl, hey, hey, look at me,” Harry places his other palm on the side of her face, ad she leans into his touch, sniffling and gulping in breaths of air. “breath, puppy. Breath. It’s okay. ‘Not mad at you.”

“I’m sorry, d-didn’t wanna-” She starts, her chest flushed red and heaving. Harry shushes her, placing his thumb on her lips and rubbing across them. He wants to kiss her. So bad. But he thinks he should calm her down first.

“I said it’s okay,” His voice is gentle now, nearly cooing at her. A strand of hair falls to tickle his nose, and he tries to shake it off. Y/n’s trembling fingers comes it back for him, and he presses a quick kiss to her forearm before continuing, “thank you, baby. Not tell me what’s got you so upset. Want you to use, your words, okay? Breathe for me, y/n.”

She has a hard time keeping his stare, and she glances down at his chest instead, memorizing the buttons on his white button up. “I... I just...” is all she can get out before she’s crying again, her tears falling down onto her breasts like the cold water had.

Harry brings her to chest, slipping out the hand from underneath her bum to press her firmly against his burning chest. He’s hurting, he really is. Hates seeing his precious y/n cry. He would do anything to take her pain away. “Don’t cry anymore, pet. ‘S nothing to cry for.”

She’s inconsolable. Her mind going in circles to the point where she doesn’t know what she’s crying for. Something to do about Harry neglecting her. Calling her a bad girl.

And god her thoughts are so,

“Small, daddy. Feel so small. Please don’t yell at me.” Harry tenses all over again. A cold sheet of dread draping over his back like a thousand knifes cutting him open. It hits him then, that this morning,

she wasn’t being a brat.

She was still in subspace.

He guesses it was the fact that he’d gone so hard on her the night before. And he left so quick. Didn’t even kiss her goodbye, no. In fact, he laughed at her like a tool, and left her. Called her a brat.

All while she was in this delicate state.

He feels like shit then. A real dickhead. He’d went, instead, to worry about stupid drugs and money that he had plenty of. He could never, ever get enough of y/n, yet he had acted like he did.

His heart clenches, his chest tightens, and his throat ties itself in a knot. This only makes him feel more like an asshole because instead of telling y/n that everything is okay, he’s the one crying. Get your fucking shit together.

“Princess,” he whispered, a name he only used when she felt small, “Come back to me. Come back too daddy,” he pleaded, hiding his face in her hair.

“Are you still mad at me, daddy? Please don’t be angry, daddy,” She whines, nosing into his neck. Her voice is high-pitched and light, like a child’s.

“Daddy’s angry at himself. Not at you. Come back, yeah? Miss you, y/n.” He presses tiny kisses to the side of her face, making her giggle and scrunch her pink nose. She shivers a little, and Harry remembers she’s naked. He twists backwards and pats around the bed blindly for his suit jacket, placing it in y/n’s shoulders once he finds it.

“M’right here, Harry.” Y/n says. Her voice is hoarse, back to normal. Her eyes are droopy, and she wraps her hands around Harry’s neck.

He jumps to return her embrace, hiking her thigh over his hip to get her close, but she feels his erection through his pants.

“Harry you’re-”

“Don’t worry about it. Just wanna lay here with you for a minute. Need to do what I didn’t get to this morning,” he said.

They lay together in the edge of their silky sheets, nearly asleep when y/n’s stomach grumbled loudly, and she giggles when Harry rubs a hand over it.

“Let’s get you something to eat, baby. Deserve only the best.”

He sits up, pulling her up with him so she’s on his lap. Y/n smiles at him, chin digging into her neck bashfully.

“Now, don’t you go all blushy on me, baby. Know its true. Deserve the best, and I’m gonna give it to you.” He grins at her, his green eyes gleaming at her, “Gimme a kiss?”

“Who would’ve thought, Mr. Styles, feared by all of London, asking me for a kiss,” She teased, leaning in to her lips brushed against his with every syllable she spoke.

“I love you, y/n. You have my heart, know that right?” And he pushes his lips against hers, tonguing at her mouth innocently.

Y/n kisses him back, and she tell him she loves him, too.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles watermelon sugar #one direction fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles mob boss #harry edward styles

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aroaceofthesea · 4 years ago

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Harry Potter characters as demigods #1: Harry

Godly parent: Zeus

Ok this one was actually pretty hard to decide, i couldnt rlly find a perfect godly parent for him, and i was mostly between zeus and hades. I ended up deciding zeus bc hes a natural leader, and where he feels more at home is in the sky, flying with a broom. The lightning bolt scar also tipped the balance a bit tho. The other option, hades, would be bc of the amount of times he should have died but didnt idk. Like not when he was close to dying but when his parents were killed (bc come on, lily cant be the first person in the history of wizardy to sacrifice themselves for a loved one can she) and when he literally died and came back (the horcrux story would be just bs then). But yeah i think he's more of a zeus son bc hades children usually arent widely accepted into society or whatever and harry is literally famous so yeah

Im not dicontinuing the disney princesses as demigods i just wanted to do harryyy

#percy jackson #harry potter #pjo #hp #harry potter characters as demigods #son of zeus #zeus #i hate zeus buuttt

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bopbopstyles · 5 years ago

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Temptation (pt. 1)

RATING: M/smut

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

Harry’s a fratboy and Nora (might) be in love with him. (part 1)

PART TWO | PART THREE

After a semester abroad, the last thing Nora felt like doing was going to an American frat party.

She had spent the semester in Germany going to clubs and house parties, weird bars and day drinking at festivals. All she wanted was a pint of good beer, a cute boy to flirt with in her horrifically bad German, and go home and curl up in her double bed. Now she was back home going to a beginning of semester frat party where there would be shit beer, she wouldn’t be “the cute American girl,” and she was back to the Twin-XL life. It was the weekend before school started, so she knew it would be crazy—no one had work to do, no one was stressed, and everyone was desperate to be back at school and away from their families.

But Maddy wanted her to go, and so she was going.

“You’re going to drink these boys under the table!” Maddy called to her from their bathroom where she was curling her hair. “We’re going to play rage cage, I’ve already decided.”

“I hate rage cage,” Nora lied. She loved it and she knew it. “Abroad changed me!”

A bootie came flying in her direction, and Nora caught it before tossing it back to Maddy. “You’re a shit liar.”

She took another sip of the drink she had mixed, some decent vodka and Fresca, her secret weapon of a mixer. “Who are you going after tonight again?”

Since Nora had left Maddy had decided she was in love with the boys of Delta Sigma. They were mostly the international boys who didn’t seem like they’d be the frat type and were so hot you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. Also, apparently their parties were insane. “His name’s Liam,” she said, “and he was quite possibly the most gorgeous boy on earth.”

“What’s his instagram again?”

She read out a handle from memory, and Nora typed the handle into her phone as she took another sip. She scrolled through the photos, most of which appeared to be from frat parties, with the occasional more artsy photo of him and friends. They appeared to be on actual film, which was interesting for frat boy. “Is he a photographer?”

“No, why?”

“These photos looked like they’re on actual film," she replied. Nora clicked on one and it’s a photo of him, but she noticed he had tagged someone. Someone with the handle @harry_styles. She clicked on the name and was immediately entranced. Based on his bio, he was their year at school, but she had never heard of the kid before. He also appeared to be British. She scrolled through his photos, all taken on film, and gorgeous. Some were of landscapes, but most were portraits of people doing simple and mundane things. He was incredibly talented. “Some kid named Harry takes them,” Nora told her.

“Oh, I think he was friends with Liam. I’ve seen them before.” Maddy strutted out of the bathroom and striked a pose, perfectly curled hair bouncing behind her head as she shook it. “Like?”

“Love.” Maddy was wearing a snakeskin bodysuit, ripped black jeans, and heeled booties, and she looked incredible as usual. “Now what the fuck am I going to wear?”

“Good lord, you will be the death of me someday, Nora Tate.”

The party was in full swing when they arrive. They weaved their way through the crowds on the front lawn, Maddy jabbering in her ear about how hot this Liam kid is. Nora simply nodded along, thankful for the vodka coursing through her veins, because the amount she did not want to be there was pretty high.

The lights were low and the music was loud when they opened the door, the smell of sweat and cheap beer hitting her immediately. Ah yes, this was why she left America.

“Rage cage," she reminded Maddy, and Maddy squeezed her hand before pulling her deep into the crowd. They weaved their way through the throngs of people to the kitchen, where they poured themselves drinks, and then Maddy dragged her to the basement.

There were four pong tables set up, three of which currently had games going—all simple games of pong, and a bunch of people loitering around the tables waiting for a turn. “We’re going to have to start the game,” Maddy told her quietly.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared!”

Good lord. “Who do I talk to about starting a game of rage cage?” Nora yelled into the loud room.

Everyone stopped talking and looked in one direction.

Harry was leaning against a table in the back where a computer is set up, most likely controlling the music. “Me,” he yelled in reply, standing up. “Let’s play.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Maddy told her, laughing, “and I love you.”

Harry was fucking gorgeous in person. Like, he was gorgeous on social media, but in person he was effortlessly beautiful. Cropped hair with a wave to it, high cheekbones, and the swagger of someone who truly didn’t give a fuck about what people think of him. She suddenly decided that Maddy was not alone in her love of this fraternity.

A bunch of boys, freshman pledges from the looked of it, finished filling cups with beer and setting up the table. Nora grabbed Maddy’s hand and led her over to the table. She set them up right in the middle, the best place to be, and placed their cups in a safe zone of the table. “Remember, controlled bounces," she reminded Maddy, who was notoriously horrible at this game, “and I’ll help you drink if you need it.”

“My savior,” she replied, and Nora snorts in response.

“Want to start?” She looked up and Harry was standing next to her, holding a ping pong ball out to her. His accent was like butter and she honestly wanted nothing more than to hear it constantly on a loop.

“Sure.”

Some pledge had the other ball and positioned himself across the table from her, and everyone scrunched together around the table. Bodies pressed closer and she tried to ignore the feeling of Harry’s arm flush against hers.

“Good at this game?” Harry asked her, leaning his head over so she could hear him.

“Actually, yes,” she replied.

“Let’s see,” he said, and she thought she caught a wink before she bounced the ball and made her first cup.

Maddy was drunk, despite the fact that Nora had been avoiding giving her a cup the whole game. The problem wasn’t Maddy though, it was the other people at the table. Upon discovering Maddy was a) still quite sober and b) horrible at the game, they took it upon themselves to single her out, sending all their cups her way. Meanwhile, Nora was in her happy drunk phase, one that could be sustained by sipping a drink every hour, but became messy if she went too hard.

Next to her, Harry was flushed and laughing, the alcohol and the game having loosened him up. They kept bumping into each other, their fingers brushing when he passed her the pong ball, and it messed up her breathing every time.

There’s only three cups yet, and she was just praying that Maddy didn’t end up with the bitch cup. But as the ball and the cups worked their way around the table, some pledge drinking one and a girl drinking the other, there was only one left. And the ball was coming straight for them.

“Fuck,” Nora said under her breath.

Harry looked down at her, somehow having heard her. “You good?”

“I just don’t want my friend to have the bitch cup.”

Harry glanced over at Maddy. “looked like it would do her in.” “Harry, pay attention mate!” His head whipped back and the tall stack of cups was right in front of him. He took the ball and Nora watched him, knowing he was going to make a perfect shot in, just like he had all night.

Except he didn’t. He missed.

And he missed again.

“C’mon Harry!” Someone yelled, and her eyes focused on the boy standing before Harry, who was desperately trying to make it into the single cup he has in front of him, but the slick beer-covered surface of the table meant the cup was sliding around and he kept missing.

Harry missed another shot.

And the boy before him made his.

“HARRYYY!!!!!” The table screamed, and everyone started chanting his name as he reached for the bitch cup.

He caught Nora’s eye right before he started chugging the beer, some of it spilling down the front of his barely buttoned shirt.

And it hit her—he missed on purpose.

He was trying to make sure Maddy didn’t have to drink it and instead made sure he drank it.

Harry slammed the empty solo cup down on the table and cheers erupted, a grinning Harry the triumphant loser.

“Another game?” Some kid asked, and everyone agrees, but Nora just shook her head.

“We’re good,” she said, taking her and Maddy’s drinks from earlier.

Harry stepped away from the table. “Same,” he said, and no one questioned that.

“I wanna find Liam,” Maddy said to her as they stepped away from the table.

“Okie doke, Tiger,” she told her, and Maddy giggled in response.

She looked up at Harry who was standing right in front of her, blocking their exit. “Thanks for that," she told him, their eyes catching.

“Anytime,” he replied. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

As if she didn’t already know his name. “Nora.”

“I’m Maddy!” Maddy piped up from behind her. “Now we’re on the hunt for more alcohol and some dancing, so could you scooch out of our way?”

Harry chuckled, and Nora just rolled her eyes. “Have fun,” he said, and she tugged Maddy away from the table.

“he was soooo hot,” Maddy said as they climbed the stairs. “Like literally, could-melt-polar-ice-caps hot.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“And you love me for it!” She said, throwing her arm around Nora’s shoulders. “Now let’s find us some dancing.”

Maddy hadn’t been able to capture Liam’s attention despite all of her efforts, but she had captured the attention of another DSig boy, who she was now dancing with in the middle of the dance floor. Nora made her promise to tell her if she was going to leave without her, and with that Nora left her to her own devices.

She wandered outside, seeking fresh air, and sat down on the edge of the deck that extended into the backyard. It was quieter out here, the thud of the bass faint and the cold air welcome on her sweaty skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a smooth British accent said to her.

She turned and saw Harry sitting a few feet away from her, leaning back on his hands, a beer next to him. His thin white button-down was unbuttoned low, exposing tattoos littering his torso, and thanks to the porch lights and soft glow of the moon she could see the many rings adorning the fingers of hands and the pendant necklace lying on a butterfly tattoo just on his abdomen. She caught sight of a trace of stubble on his chin and perhaps an earring in his ear.

Nora had never been this entranced by another human being. “Tired of your party?”

“Bloody hate these things after a while.” He took a swig of his beer and sighed. “You said it was Nora, right?”

She nodded. “Without an H.”

He cracked a smile. “Harry, with an H.”

“What would it be, sans an H?”

“Arry.”

“That isn’t a name.”

“Most people call me something that,” he said.

“‘Arry?”

“Yeah.”

“Most people call me Nor," she replied.

“But your name is already so short, why do you need a nickname?” She shrugged in response. Just what people did. “You’re taking the thunder of everyone with names that aren’t nickname-able.”

She leaned back on her hands, copying his pose. “Your name is nickname-able.”

“Try.”

Names rolled over in her head. “I’d probably just said ‘H’.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Never heard that one before.”

“Well, I’m happy that I could introduce it to you.”

They were both quiet for a second, and then she heard the scrape of fabric. Harry had scooted closer to her, his position changed so he was facing her, one leg still dangling off of the porch, the other bent in front of him. “What do you study, Nora without an H?”

“History," she replied without a beat. “Mainly German history.”

“Why?” His tone was genuinely inquisitive, as if this was a completely intriguing fact that he simply must know more about.

“I guess…I’ve always liked stories," she told him, finding her words as they come. “And history is really just a bunch of stories that they can learn from and use to make sense of the world around us.”

He considered her answer. “I like that.”

“And you? What do you study, Harry with an H?”

“Comparative literature,” he replied. “Focusing on Italian.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “I’ve always loved languages and reading, and it just seemed like the right fit. You have a better answers than me for this question.”

“You like comp lit?”

“Love it,” he said immediately.

It was rare to find a fratboy who genuinely enjoys what he studies, so Harry was an outlier. “And you speak Italian, I assume?”

“Sì.”

She knew no Italian, but she gathered that that’s a yes. “How long?”

“Most of my life.” He took another sip of his beer, and someone opened the sliding door behind them, music and voices swirling around them. “My grandparents bought a house in Italy before they had my mum and it’s stayed in the family. I’ve spent all my summers and holidays there.”

“You were there for Christmas, then, I assume?” He nodded. “I’m jealous.”

“Best place on earth.”

“Where in Italy?”

“Lucca. It’s not too far from Florence.” He scooted a hair closer to her as he swung his other leg onto the porch, winding his long legs into a comfortable position. “You ever been?”

“To Italy?” He nodded. “Nope. Didn’t make it there while I was abroad.”

“Shame. Where’d you go?”

“Berlin for the fall semester," she replied, and he perked up. “Traveled a bunch, but stuck to central and northern Europe mainly. Copenhagen, Prague, Luxembourg, Amsterdam, Warsaw, and then around Germany. Spent a week in London during Thanksgiving and my mom met me there.”

He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, and she watched his bicep flex with the movement. “That sounds incredible. My parents told me being here was my study abroad, so I’m missing out.”

“That’s a shame," she told him. “I needed the break from all this," she waved her hand around them, attempting to capture the absurdity of college and the pressure and the exhaustion in a single motion. “Felt nice to be given the opportunity to slow down a bit.”

“I can imagine.”

Their conversation slowed a bit. The sliding door opened again and a group of girls started talking loudly near them, their discussion circling around some boy they’re all in love with, but they thankfully made their way to the fire pit on the other side of the yard.

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

“Nor!”

She looked up and Maddy was standing in the doorway and she was thankful for the distraction. “You okay?”

“I wanna go homeeee,” Maddy said, her words slightly slurred. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s go home then, babes.” She downed the rest of her beer and then turned to Harry. “See you around, H.”

Before he had the chance to reply, Nora walked inside, the door shutting behind her.

Maddy and Nora spent the rest of the weekend decorating their apartment and analyzing Harry’s sentence to her. Maddy was convinced that he had a crush on her, but Nora begged to differ. Nora thought he was just a poetic guy who had a bit too much to drink. Maddy rolled her eyes at her but let it drop finally and began describing Niall, the adorable Irish boy who she had been dancing with. He was sweet and funny and a good kisser, and didn’t try to get her to come home with him. Just got her number and told her to find Nora so she could go home since she was drunk and tired. (Sometimes, Nora thinks, it’s a bit sad how low the bar was set.) She seemed to have forgotten all about Liam, who she said was just too unattainable that it wasn’t worth trying.

By Monday, Nora was anxious to get into the classroom. After a semester of operating at half intelligence because all her classes were in German, she was excited to be able to actually communicate her full thoughts on a topic. She wanted to write papers and read things that intrigued her.

She'd put a lot of thought into crafting her schedule, leaving time for her shifts at the coffeeshop on campus, while also balancing her schedule between History, German, and Gen Ed requirements. She'd chosen to takes an Urban Studies class for her technology requirements, since it required use of something classed GIS. Maddy was an Urban Studies major, so Nora decided that it was safe to assume she’d help her pass if she needed it.

She chose a safe seat—middle of the room, middle of the row, able to see the screen but not too close that she looked too eager. She unpacked her notebook, already labelled for the class and her pencil bag with her favorite pens. She was ready to be back at school.

She was not ready for Harry Styles to slide into the seat next to her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

“Fucking hell.” The words fell from her mouth without pause. “You scared me.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not," she said, catching her breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling a Gen Ed,” he replied. “This seemed interesting and easy enough. You?”

Embarrassingly, the same reason. “Me too.”

He smiled. “Was nice to see a familiar face when I walked in.”

Before she could reply, the lecture started, and her mind tuned out everything else in the room. Their professor went over the syllabus, which seemed decent, and then started in on the first lecture. Nora was quickly engrossed, scribbling notes about different city planning techniques and histories, making notes of things she wanted to look up more on. The professor had a good lecture style—succinct, engaging, and a bit funny. He had some memes throughout his presentation that got the class laughing, and she tried to ignore how Harry’s soft chuckle made her stomach flip.

In fact, she spent the whole class trying to ignore Harry.

She tried to ignore the way he bit his lip while he wrote notes, the wrinkle in his eyebrows when he was trying to understand something, the way he pulled on his lip when he was reading intently. How his handwriting was messy but clear, how he said “fuck” lightly under his breath when he smudged ink, how his leg bounced up and down when he was trying to focus.

But most of all she tried to ignore the fact that he kept glancing over at her.

Because the thing was, Nora was not in the market to have feelings for someone. She didn’t want to have a crush. She wants to have aimless sex with cute boys and go about her life as she wanted. After the fall, she'd decided that boys were confusing and a waste of time.

Jonas. She'd met him at a house party and it had been a fling—they’d hooked up a couple of times, he’d make her tea and breakfast in the morning, they’d drunk text each other, and he’d act like her boyfriend if they were out together. Sometimes the things he’d say and the way he’d look at her would make her wonder if it was more for him. If he cared. But then, before she knew it the semester was over and it was time to go and their didn’t even have a proper goodbye. It was weird and confusing and when she left she didn’t know what to make of it, because if they’d had more time she probably would’ve dated him. And now, sometimes she'd remember the way he’d back her up against a wall and wonder if she'd find someone who would kiss her the way Jonas did.

So when Nora looked at Harry, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would kiss. And that was when she knew that even though she had only known him for two days, she was developing a crush.

And that was the opposite of how she wanted to start her semester.

When class ended, Harry turned to her and said, “Want to go pick up their course books?”

She didn’t have a class next, so she had no excuse. So she just said yes.

“What did you think?” He asked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder as they exited the lecture hall.

“The professor was great," she replied. “Really engaging and seems like he was not going to be harsh of a grader since it’s an intro class.”

“Yeah definitely. And I liked how he explained all of the different city plans with such detail but also clarity. He seems to know what he was doing.”

They turned to exit onto the campus green, and she pulled her coat a little tighter around her. It was January and she had forgotten how cold it could get in Massachusetts. “Which section do you think you’re going to do?” The professor had mentioned at the end of class that they would have weekly discussion sections with their TAs to go over material and readings, and had listed out the different time options. She was leaning towards Wednesdays at 11, just after their class was over.

“Probably Wednesday at 11,” he replied. “Fits best into my schedule.”

Fuck. “I was thinking of doing the same one," she told him. This was not good. More time around Harry was not going to be good for her.

“Really?” Nora couldn’t help but take joy in the smile that spread across his face. “Thank god. I hate going into those sections and not knowing where to sit.”

They turned into the building with the campus bookstore, and Nora unwound her scarf from around her neck. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that.”

“Do you have other books you need to pick up?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m going to hold off and go after my other classes so I can figure out what I can get at the library first.”

“Good idea.” He pulled out the syllabus from his backpack and studied the instructions their professor had written down for the books their need. “I think they’re over this way,” he said, leading the way to the back corner.

“Spend a lot of time here?” She asked, shocked he knew where to find the books without even asking for help.

“I worked here during freshman and sophomore year,” he replied. “They never change up the organization of this place.” He scanned the shelves with his finger, mumbling the names of the authors they were looking for under his breath. Nora stood behind him and couldn’t help but smile. “Here,” he said, pulling two copies of one out. “Hold them?”

“‘Course.” She took the books and held them in her arms while he continued his search for the second and third titles they need. He quickly tracked them down, snatching them off the shelf and adding them to the pile in her arms. “That it?”

“Yes.” They weaved their way to the front register and she followed Harry, watching how his long brown coat whips around his ankles when he walked.

After they paid, they walked back out to the campus green and stood on the edge of the sidewalk facing each other. “Do you have another class?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Later. Think I’m going to go home and drop these off first, though.” She lifted the stack of books in her arms and he smiled.

“Bit too heavy for you?”

“Shove off," she said, and a smile sneaked onto her face when he chuckled.

“Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

She took a step back and shouldered her bag. “Bye, H.”

“Bye, Nora.”

She tried to ignore the beauty of the way he said her name. But she failed.

Maddy and Nora had been in the library for most of Saturday doing their readings for the next week, and by seven o’clock Nora wanted to bash her head into a wall. She kept re-reading the same sentence about the layout of Vienna’s old city and couldn’t process any of the words.

“Maddy," she whispered, poking her in the arm with the cap of her highlighter. “I want to go.”

“Stop poking me, you ass.” Maddy looked up from her readings. “Let’s get out of here—I feel like I smell like library at this point.”

We packed up their stuff quietly, ignoring the death stares from a girl with a problem set spread out on the table in front of her. “It’s like they don’t realize that people naturally make noise when they move," she said, and Maddy snorted, earning them more glares. “Come on, we should go before we’re killed in here.”

She followed Maddy out of the room they were in and made their way down the hall, the sound of Nora’s sneakers squeaking on the tile floor earning us yet more glares from people. It was literally the first week back at school, Nora thought, how are people already so stressed about work?

Maddy suddenly slowed her walk and matched her pace with Nora’s, leaning in close to her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that Harry walking towards us?”

Nora looked up and realize that it was Harry. He was wearing an oversized black sweatshirt and a pair of houndstooth pants that he somehow makes looked both comfortable and stylish, along with a pair of glasses. She simply does not understand this boy’s ability to looked so good constantly. “I cannot talk to him right now," she told Maddy. “I looked like complete shit and he looked like…a Greek god.”

“Shut up. You’re going to talk to him because he was basically beelining over here.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck," she said under her breath.

“Nora.” Harry’s voice was soft because of the library, and she loved the way it sounded. “Maddy, right? I’m Harry.”

Maddy nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Harry’s gaze turned back to her, and she decided then and there that she loves him in glasses. He was not just a Greek god, he was a studious Greek god. Tortoise shell, peak book nerd. “How are you?”

“Good," she replied. “Was just doing the reading for their class.”

He groaned. “I haven’t even started it. How bad is it?”

She shrugged. “A bit dry, but not horrible.”

“Great,” he said. “I have that to look forward to doing. What are you two up to tonight?”

She looked at Maddy, who shrugged. “Unsure at this point.”

“We’re having another party if you want to come.”

“We’ll be there,” Maddy said before Nora had the chance to reply. She shot Maddy a death stare, which Maddy just ignored.

Harry grinned and it was utterly adorable. “I’ve got to keep working, but I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye H.” The nickname fell from her mouth with ease, and he smiled in response.

“Bye Nora.”

He walked away and she turned to Maddy, who was grinning ear to ear. “What?”

Maddy shook her head and gave her a knowing smile. “You’re fucked.”

She looked back to Harry’s receding figure. Maddy was right. Nora was completely fucked.

They had been at the party for an hour and Nora had yet to see Harry. She didn’t know if he was hiding or something, but no matter which room she went into or how hard she looked, she still couldn’t manage to spot him in the crowd. The party was bigger than last weekend as everyone was now on campus, and Maddy and Nora kept running into people they knew, so now they’ve developed a little crew to hang out with. Their friends Taylor and Lauren arrived shortly after Maddy and Nora did, and they brought with them a girl who was in the same sorority as Lauren and was dating a DSig. As a result, they all end up trashed and dancing without much time passing.

Nora threw her arms around Maddy and screamed the lyrics to a Post Malone song, and Nora felt utterly, blissfully happy. She had forgotten about this side of frat parties while she was gone—how happy she was when she was dancing and there was alcohol coursing through her veins. Some girl must have gotten hold of the music, because the song changed to an old Taylor Swift song and the girls lost it, jumping up and down in the crowd and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

“I need a drink!” Nora said when the song was over, her throat hoarse and her hair sticking to the back of her neck. The song switches, and the Maddy screamed—it was her favorite song and she had to be on the dance floor for it. Nora could see the torn look in her best friend’s eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m good—I’ll be back in a second.”

She pushed through the crowd, apologizing as she dug her elbows into people to make a path to the kitchen. She grabbed a beer, needing something cold and not too strong, and leaned against the countertop, letting the cooler air wash over her skin.

“Hello.”

The words tingled down her spine, and she turned her head to see Harry standing in the door jamb. The kitchen had mostly cleared out, so it was just the two of them and a set of girls who looked like freshman trying to decide which mixer was less disgusting with their bad vodka. “Hi, H.”

“Having fun?” He was wearing a black t-shirt and it was tight in all the right places and Nora had to force herself to not consider what it would be like to take it off of him.

She nodded. “Couldn’t find you, though.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them and Nora wanted to shrink into the counter. She sounded desperate and psychotic—she had barely known this boy and now she was complaining about now being able to find him?

But Harry just smiled. “I was upstairs,” he explained. “Was trying to finish a bit of work before I started drinking.”

If he was doing work here, Nora assumed he lived in the house. “You live here?”

“Unfortunately.” He moved towards her, grabbing a beer from the fridge next to her, and Nora caught a flash of light blue on his fingers. Harry painted his nails, she realized.

This fraternity boy painted his goddamned nails light blue.

Who was this boy?

What planet was he from?

And more importantly, where had he been all of her life?

“I like your nails,” she said. “What color is that?”

He glanced down at them. “Dunno. Stole it from my sister over winter break. I can check and text it to you later, though.”

“I’d like that.” Nora took another sip of her beer, the cold drink feeling good in her body. “Where are all your friends?”

Harry shrugged. Nora got the sense that he didn’t really care about all the fraternity stuff and she liked that. Frat boys had always annoyed with their “bro energy” as Maddy called it and she’d met some real assholes during her time in college. Harry seemed like an outlier though. “You want to dance?” He asked her, breaking her out of her trance.

She straightened up. “Sure.” She tried not to think about the fact that she cannot, for the life of her, dance sexily. Maddy had made fun of her for it since freshman year, and despite her efforts Nora had not been able to master the art of looking hot and dancing. She was more of a whip-your-arms-around-and-scream dancer.

When they reached the crowded living room, Harry grabbed her hand and Nora loved his callused hand in her hers, the way he held it tightly so he didn’t lose her in the crowd. He didn’t go too deep into the crowd, wanting to make sure they had space to breathe and it was not too hot. When he stopped moving he tried to create space for them, wanting to make sure they could actually move, not just stand there like idiots and battle for oxygen on the dance floor. Nora took a long swig of her beer, and then she started to sway her hips, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

She liked this boy. She had a massive crush on Harry and his soft words and the way he called her by her full name and smiled at her. She had a crush on the way he was dancing—awkwardly and with a goofy grin on his face, screaming the lyrics to the Top 40s hit along with her. She liked that he didn’t seem to care what people thought of him, that he painted his nails baby blue and knew how to dress himself. She even liked his tattoos, which she usually secretly judged people for, but on Harry they fit him. She wanted to trace the outlines of them and ask him about the stories behind them, to know everything about him. She liked that he took the hit during rage cage for Maddy. She liked that when they were dancing he gives her a thumbs up to check in and make sure she was doing okay.

She really liked him, she realized as she dances with him. She wanted to impress him, but not in a way that’s uncomfortable—more in a way where she just wanted him to see the best parts of her. But she also wanted him to know her, she realized. She wanted him to know things about her and like being around her as much as she did. Because he put her on edge, but not because he made her uncomfortable, but because of how much she liked him. She wanted to know him, even if it was just to be friends, because he seemed interesting. She felt like he has layers to him, and every time she snatches another piece of information she only has more questions.

Even if they were just friends, Nora wanted to know him, she decided.

So she decided, fuck it all, and danced like she didn’t have a care in the world, because she wanted him to see the real her. She wanted him to see her awkward dancing and to accidentally hit him in the face with her hair so that he knew her and could bail if he didn’t like her. She wanted to give him and out and see if he took it.

And he didn’t.

They dance for what feels like forever, their beers long gone. He grabbed her hand at one point when people were becoming pushy and pulled her closer to him, their sweaty bodies touching each other practically every time they move. They sang their favorite songs, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I fucking love this song,” when Mamma Mia came on, and Nora decided that it’s the cutest thing she had ever found out about someone. She told him about her obsession with Drake when In My Feelings comes on, and he admitted that he listened to this song on repeat for three hours one time. They had these snippets of conversation on the dance floor, their faces close and voices loud enough to be heard over the music.

SexyBack came on and they both devolve into seventh graders, obsessed with this song and not really caring about the meaning. Nora danced, throwing her hands up and dropping her hips lower than she had before.

And then someone slammed into her back, throwing her straight into Harry’s chest.

The feeling of him close to her set her skin on fire.

She had kept just enough distance during the evening to make sure they weren’t this close, but it had not taken much for them to be fully flush against each other. And now they were and Nora could feel everything. One of her hands was on his pecs and she could feel the smooth muscle across his chest, and the other hand landed on his side, the palm of her hand on his abs and she felt the outline of abs there. Her fingers dug into his skin, grappling for balance as she tried to find her footing.

Harry’s hands immediately found her waist, holding her steady. His fingers felt like they were searing on her lower back, the contact sending Nora into outer space. And she didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from him, but either way her head was spinning a bit.

“You okay?” He asked, his accent smooth as butter in her ear. His lips were close enough that they brush softly against her hair and the edge of her ear. Nora was trying not to hyperventilate, but also maintain her footing, and not press all of her weight onto Harry.

She was about to answer that yes, she was fine, so sorry, when someone bumped into her again, pushing her back into Harry. He stumbles this time and wrapped his arms around Nora fully to try and keep them both upright. He was essentially hugging her at this point and Nora thought her heart might have stopped the second she felt him tug her close to him.

“Someone’s really trying to push you over, aren’t they?” He said with a chuckle into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” Nora apologized, finding her footing and straightening. She didn’t push away from Harry though, and he didn’t let go of her. “I didn’t mean to fall onto you—or into you, I guess?”

He shook his head. “No matter. You okay, love?”

Love. The word reverberated through Nora’s head and she tried to keep her wits about her. She knew she was feeling mushy tonight—all these thoughts of Harry and how adorable he was and sweet and kind had got her melting for him, but maybe that was the alcohol? She couldn’t keep it straight. And when he called her love, all of the efforts to keep it together just fall apart.

“I’m okay,” she answered softly. “Are you?” She looked up and into his eyes, and even though the room was dark, she could still make out his eyes in the strobing lights, the flashes of his beautiful hair and his high cheekbones. She could see his eyes meet hers and Nora felt this pull in her chest to kiss him. He didn’t break eye contact with her and Nora was just searching his eyes, begging for an answer, an explanation, some hint to tell her what to do and what he bloody wanted.

Because she knew what she wanted. She wanted to kiss him.

“‘M fine.” His voice was like sandpaper and she wondered if his mouth was as dry as hers was. He hadn’t moved his hands from her back, only loosened them slightly so he was not holding her quite so close.

She inched her fingers upwards, one landing on his shoulder, the other on his elbow. Nora wondered if she was imagining the way his breathing had quickened. Did she kiss him? She wanted to. She wanted to kiss him so bad. She wanted to know what his lips feel like on hers, if they were as soft as they felt when they bushed her ear. She wanted to know what he tasted like and how he would kiss her. Did she just do it? She searched his eyes one last time, the seconds stretching into what feels like hours. “Can I kiss you?”

He blinked.

Nora held her breath.

Then, his lips were on hers and suddenly Nora knew exactly what his lips feel like on hers. They were soft like velvet and he smelled like heaven.

He kissed her like it was his last breath, desperate to know if she breathed the same air as him. Deep and wanting, the intensity building with every press of his lips to hers. It was urgent, yet soft—he didn’t lick into her mouth, just stays on her lips. And man, can the boy kiss.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to his neck and wound through the hair there, a breathless moan leaving his mouth, and she wondered if he liked it when she pulled his hair.

So when he finally did lick his tongue against the seam of her lips and she widened them, she pulled, ever so softly.

And he moaned deeply, his grip on her waist tightening.

Nora wanted to kiss him for the rest of time.

Her other hand moved from his elbow to his back, fingers finding the material of his shirt and pulling him closer to her. Her fingers curled into the cotton, the sweat from them dancing on her palm but she didn’t care because she wanted him closer. She could feel every inch of his body flush with hers and she loved it—the way he felt against her, the way her skin was lit on fire, the way she wanted to drink purely Harry until the end of time.

“Nora,” he said, pulling back, allowing both of them to catch their breath, “do you want to come upstairs?”

She hesitated. It’s not that she didn’t want to—she’d love to fuck this boy until the dawn of time—but she had no idea where her friends were, and she would rather not let them think she’d been kidnapped. And if she thought about it, she knew she probably shouldn’t. She barely knew Harry and she had class twice a week with him, and most likely a discussion section on top of it. If it didn’t work out, she had to see him constantly for the rest of the semester, which was not ideal.

His finger raised her chin slightly so she had to look into his eyes. “I’m not trying to get you to sleep with me, by the way. I just want to get out of this fuckin’ sweaty crowd so I can kiss you properly and not worry if I’m going to be kicked in the back. And if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine too. I’ll stay here if you’d rather that. Or we don’t have to kiss at all—I don’t want you to do anything you have to.” He was rambling, unsure of his standing. Her hesitation had thrown him for a loop and Harry wasn’t sure if she even wanted to kiss him at all anymore. Was she into it? He thought she was from the way she pulled him towards her, but from the hesitation he wasn’t sure and he wanted to be sure.

“No, it’s not that,” she said, and his fears were immediately pushed aside. “I just want to let my friends know where I am first.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Where are they?”

Nora looked around the crowd, but couldn’t catch sight of them anywhere. “When I left they were here. Lemme try texting them.” She pulled out her phone and found a string of texts from the group chat with Maddy, Taylor and Lauren discussing the fact that she was making out with Harry Styles and that they were fine and to do whatever she wanted, that they’d find her when they were going to go and check in. Truly the best friends of all time. She quickly texted them that she was going upstairs to Harry’s room and then she looked back up at him, his lips quirked in a smile. Nora wondered if he saw the texts, but then decided there’s no reason to freak out—he was making out with her, after all. “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.” His fingers wound through hers and he led the way out of the crowd, dodging groups of frantic dancers and couples making out just as they had been. He navigated the crowd with ease, his tall frame putting him a head above most other people, and Nora just held onto his hand and let him lead her out of the crowd and up the stairs.

It was quieter on the second floor, a row of doors to bedrooms shut and soft music drifting out of some, the loud thud of the bass from the main floor less intense. Nora stayed close to Harry, her body magnetic to his. He led her down the hall, telling her who lives in all the other rooms, pointing to the bathroom as they passed it, just in case she needed it. Then, they were standing outside a room with his name on the door and he turned to her.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked her, searching for confirmation, which he found when Nora nodded.

He pushed open the door, a soft light from his bedside table lamp illuminating bits of the room. Nora saw posters of bands, a minimalist map of Milan, and stacks upon stacks of books lining the walls. She stepped inside and he shut the door behind her, and she continued to investigate the room, taking stock of the various pieces of information she could collect from its decoration. A guitar leaned against the wall, sheets of paper next to it with scribblings on them—he was a musician—and a basket of cleanly folded laundry lies in the corner so she knew he was clean and tidy. He had photos of his family on his dresser, which warmed her heart, and a stereo in the corner with a stack of records next to it.

“What do you think?”

She turned to him. He was leaning against his door, a look of curiosity and a hint of fear on his face. They were still learning about each other, and he had exposed a huge part of who he is to her by letting her in here. “I think you like music and books.”

Harry just laughed. “Well, you’re right about that.”

He didn’t move from the door, so Nora decided to take the lead. She wanted to kiss this boy again, not have a conversation about his favorite book he read or the musician that transformed his understanding of music. She sat on the edge of his bed, leaned back on her hands, and gave Harry a look that screamed, “Come.”

And he does, a quirk in his brow. He stood between her widened legs, brushed a thumb across her jawline, and then leand down to reconnect their lips. Nora softened immediately, her hands begging for purchase on his skin, and pulled him towards her. Harry kicked off his boots and then gently pushed Nora up on the bed, following her, the desire written all over his face. He was about to lean down to kiss her again when Nora said, “Wait. Shirt?”

He pulled it over his head without a second thought, and Nora relished in the sight of his tattoos. The butterfly on his abdomen she’d seen before, the swallows on his pecs, the ship on his arm that she hadn’t. The small musings up and down his arms that she would look closer at later, she decided. In the mean time, she pulled him in by his neck and he collapsed into her, his weight a welcome feeling against her body. Nora widened her knees and hooked her ankles around him, resting them on his lower back. The pressure pushed him closer to her core and she gasped at the feeling—she couldn’t help it. He was big. Bigger than she expected.

Harry stopped his assault on her neck and looked up at her. “This okay?”

“God yes,” she replied. “Keep going.”

He smiled, and returned his lips to her neck, pulling and prodding at her skin with his lips and his teeth, sucking what would be a hickey later onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Usually Nora despised hickeys, but she couldn’t find the reason to care right now. Her hands scrabbled at his skin, trying to find purchase, the feeling of him grinding slowly into her and his lips on her neck almost too much.

“Harry,” she said, gasping for air as he tugged at the neck of her shirt to gain more access, “roll over.”

She unhooked her ankles and he rolled, pliant to her words. She straddled him immediately, loving the view of Harry Styles spread out beneath her. His hair was tousled from her fingers, lips swollen from her kisses, chest rising fast from her. She felt him beneath where she sat on his abdomen and it made her smile. Then, she pulled her shirt off and she watched him look at her.

Nora hadn’t always loved her body. She remembered the first time she ever took off her shirt, the boy looking at her didn’t know what to say or do with her breasts, and she hated it. She wondered if they were too big—girls in films have breasts, but never ones that were like hers. The size that hurt when she ran and gave her back aches. The size her friends didn’t really understand—the size Nora hated as a teenager. But in the past two years she decided to stop giving a fuck. She thought she was beautiful and she was done letting what other people think of her change that. And when she let Harry look at her, she was wondering what he was thinking. Did he think she was as beautiful as she does?

And then he told her. “Good lord,” he said, voice hoarse, “you’re gorgeous.” He leaned up and kissed her cleavage that’s exposed, Nora’s fingers finding a home in his curls.

“Fuck, H,” she whined at the feeling of his lips on her tender skin. She bent down and captures his lips with her own, pressing him back onto his back, loving their bare skin on one another. They were battling for both air and dominance, and when Nora’s lips started traveling down his neck and onto his chest, Harry thought he stopped breathing for a second. She sucks a hickey on his pec, right above the swallow, and then blew on it and he practically shivered from the sensitivity.

He could feel her traveling southward and even though he wanted her to suck him off—good lord did he want her too—he stopped her. He tugged her up, reattaching their lips, a “C’mere,” whispered between them. He wanted to kiss her for longer, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. And also, quite honestly, if she kept occasionally rolling her hips like she was doing he might come from that alone. She was gorgeous, yes in the way she looked, but also the confidence she exuded and the way she told him what she wantd and the way she was tracing up and down his arms and sides with her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He was fucked, because this girl had managed to turn him into putty after knowing him for just one week.

And then she started really moving her hips back and forth. Nora knew what it wa doing to him and she loved it—loved the knowledge that she was the one making him feel this way and she wanted to see how far it would go, how far she could take it. So as she kissed him, their lips moving in sync, she rolled her hips on his, grinding down every once and a while, drinking up every breathless moan leaving Harry’s lips, savoring each grunt, and when he let out a low, “Nora, please, fuck,” she knew she had him in her hand.

She smiled against his mouth and turned her head, leaning down to his ear, and whispered, “Tell me what you want, H.” He grunted and she rolled her hips again, the seam of his jeans rubbing against her clit in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “What do you want?” She asked, her voice low and dripping with desire.

“You,” he said finally. “Fuck, Nora, I want you.”

Nora kisses his cheek and then makes her way down his chest, making a path right to his dick. Harry had given up any contemplation of waiting, he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted her so bad it genuinely physically hurt. He needed to come and he needed to come now. Nora popped the button on his jeans and Harry lifted his hips to let her pull them down.

Then, a series of knocks came from the door.

Nora’s head whipped up and so did Harry’s. No one knocked on his door usually. They knew he was private, that he didn’t like people in his space unless he invited them.

“Nora?” Maddy’s voice could be heard over the dull throbbing of the bass from downstairs, and Nora let out a sigh. “We’re heading out babes.”

Nora looked between Harry and the door. “Give me one second,” she called back to Maddy, her eyes not leaving Harry. “I’m going to go,” she told him. She had shit to do tomorrow. But also, she wanted to make sure she was not making a mistake by hooking up with Harry, since she was going to be seeing him all the time for the rest of the semester. She wanted to think about this, because she wasn’t expecting this to happen and needed to take a moment to consider the repercussions of her actions. She barely knew Harry—what would he do if they fuck? Would he ignore her for the rest of the semester? He might be nice, but he was still a fratboy, and Nora had enough experience in that department to know the norm wasn’t to bring a girl flowers after.

“Everything okay?” He asked, sitting up as she snatched her shirt from the other side of the bed where had she discarded it.

She nodded. “I just need a second to…think.”

Harry considered this. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he is—that they have class together for the rest of the semester and it was probably not the best idea to fuck your classmate the first weekend of the semester. “Okay,” he replied. “No worries. I’ll, uh, see you in class, I guess?”

Nora was tugging on her booties and she looked at him with a small smile on her face. “Bright and early Monday morning.”

Harry got up, rebuttoning his pants. As Nora was about to open the door, he grabbed her wrist, acting on pure instinct, and pressed a kiss against her lips. It was softer than the ones before, a simple kiss that was a goodbye, but also a question. A question begging, “What’s next?” Nora broke the kiss, and with a touch to the hickey left behind above the swallow, she was out the door and gone.

Harry stumbled to his bed, his body hitting the mattress with a sigh.

He was so, so royally fucked.

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i hope you guys enjoyed this! this is my first fic and i’m super excited about her. :) let me know what you think of my lil frat boy harry. there is more coming soon. xoxo

ask me about fratboy!harry here | masterlist here

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

Girl Crush (XXV)

Chapter 25: A Merry Sunflower

Here we go with a new chapter! This is disgustingly sweet. Tooth-rotting fluff. Even I am feeling all giddy and sweet because of it. So read at your own risk, this is just too fluffy!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think about it!

Word Count: 2547

"That's an abuse of our friendship, plain and simple."

The way you rolled your eyes was almost audible, he didn't need to turn around to know about your gesture.

"Dramatic as always," you replied, dipping the brush inside the bucket full of this pale pink, almost white shade you had chosen for the doorframes of your shop.

"I should be writing my next album, and instead, I have been up since 5am for a week and painting all day!" Harry argued, gesturing around in the vague direction of the wall he had been painting, as if to prove his point. "My arm hurts so much…"

You let out a happy laugh.

"I'm not joking! It hurts," Harry replied, faking outrage, when it was hard for him to hide his smile.

Your laugh always made him feel happy and his heart grow all warm and soft. He tried not to feel this way, a little voice in his head pointing out that you weren't single, but he shushed it for now.

It was a happy and sunny day in L.A. You were painting your soon-to-be flower shop together, just the two of you, taking it slow and spending more time giggling and joking around than getting actual work done. And for a moment, Harry allowed himself to forget about this guy you were seeing, about the fact that his feelings for you had changed in a way that made him feel guilty. Instead, he pushed all his worries aside and decided that he would enjoy that day as much as he could, making sure to treasure every minute he would spend with you.

And so far, he had.

"I'm also starving," he pointed out, and as if to agree, your stomach made a weird noise that made both of you giggle.

"I have to agree for that one. Let's take a break. Pizza?"

"You've read my mind," he grinned, throwing the paint roller in his bucket and heading for the door already.

You had installed a little wooden table and a couple of chairs outside already, where you would soon be putting flowers and plants. The front of the building had been renovated as you had asked, and the sign above the door was to be finished the next week. The partially-painted letters already had a shape that was defined enough for the name of your future shop to be read.

Sunflower and Peonies.

Soon enough, the place would be full of them, and dozens of other kinds of colourful plants. Your dream was becoming reality, so much so that you could almost touch it.

For now though, Harry and you had taken the habit to eat lunch there, in the street, watching cars drive by and children running around. In the early afternoon, there weren't so many people around, most of them coming and going from or to the beach only a few streets away. You could almost hear the rush of the waves moving across the ocean, and the air smelt of salt and cloudless skies.

Harry went to pick up some pizza a few houses up the street, and came back just as you were opening some apple juice and filling up two glasses.

He had taken your favourite pizza, as always; had not needed to ask you for your order. He just knew you that well that it was a natural behaviour by now to order everything you liked most.

"You were complaining about staying away from the studio because of me, how is the writing going?" you asked, settling down around the table.

"It's going okay," he nodded with confidence. "We have a few good ones, I think. I can't wait for it to be over so you can hear it too."

"I can't wait to listen to it. But can't you give me a snippet, at least?"

He shook his head no, his mouth filled with food.

"Nope! Nothing! You will not hear anything before it's all ready and perfect."

"I'm your best friend!"

"I'm your best friend too, and you use me as free labour to renovate your shop, so don't give me that argument!"

You both exploded with laughter. The sun felt warm on your skin as you threw your head back with your laugh.

"It's not my shop yet. It's quite far from the big opening still," you reminded him, but he shook his head.

"You've come so far. It's a matter of a couple of months at the most. You're almost there, Y/N."

"I couldn’t have done it without you."

Your voice was earnest, but he shook his head.

"It's your baby, I have nothing to do with that. I mean… besides the handywork now."

"No, you're wrong. You've always made me believe in myself more than anybody else ever has. You're the one who lifted me up whenever I doubted myself. I reckon that I would have given up a long time ago if you hadn't been there to make sure to keep me on the right path."

He gave you a tender smile.

"I wouldn't be where I am today without you either, you know? You've kept me on track too."

He raised his glass full of apple juice to toast.

"I guess we're just an amazing pair of friends," you laughed.

"I guess."

Your glasses made a little 'cling' sound as they met, and you both drank a gulp of the fresh beverage while a bunch of surfers were walking before the store.

Harry leaned back in his chair, his old Rolling Stone t-shirt stained with dots of white paint hugging his torso a little too tightly. He stretched his long legs and brushed his brown strands out of his face. And the sight of him relaxing by your side made a smile creep up on your lips without you even noticing your own gesture.

"How many songs do you have ready for the album?" you asked, taking another slice of pizza.

"Not enough," he laughed.

"Come on, you can at least give me the name of one of them. Come on! Or who the songs are about! Harryyy!" you whined, making these puppy eyes that you knew he could never resist to.

But he mercilessly shook his head. Or at least, that's what he wanted you to believe. In reality, his will was slowly breaking.

"You're so cruel! You know everything about my project and I know nothing about yours! Come on, tell me one thing!"

He stared at you and he really, really tried his hardest to not reveal anything. But your eyes were so bright in the warm sunshine, and you looked so… perfect. Carefree. For once, you didn't seem worried about anything. You just seemed… happy. And he couldn't say no to you and take the risk to make your mood get a little less merry. So, he heaved a sigh, giving up.

"I… wrote one about you last night," he admitted.

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"About… me?"

"Don't act so surprised."

"I am surprised! No one's ever done this for me before."

"I've never said it was the first song I wrote about you," he replied with a frown.

You looked at him with wide-eyes.

"Really? You have? Which ones?"

He suddenly realized that it might not have been the best idea he ever had to mention that he had been writing love songs about his best friend for a long time…

"I mean… you're my best friend. I take inspiration in things you do and things that you are and… like in a lot of other things," he replied, trying to sound more casual than the situation truly was.

"So… just… not really about me just… situations we were in?"

"Umm… sometimes."

"What is it called?"

"Hmm?"

"The song you wrote last night about me, what is it called?"

He couldn't refrain a tender smile.

"Sunflower vol.6."

You grinned, looking up at the name of your future store.

"What is it about?"

You. It's about you and what I wish we could have. Kisses in the kitchen and bright flowers all around…

"It's about… I don't know. I just went home from your shop last night – after you've made me work all day long – and I wrote it. So… I guess it's about you."

"I can't wait to listen to it," you grinned.

Your smile was so bright, Harry was certain that it could outshine even the Californian sun.

The pizza was gone by now, and you took a moment to merely enjoy the warm beginning of the afternoon. A comfortable silence settled around the two of you, like a large cocoon.

Your hands on the table were mere inches away, and it seemed that they had been slowly drifting towards each other for the past few minutes. When you realized how close your fingers were from his, your first instinct was to reach out to touch them. Harry had taken his rings off to paint, and for once his fingers rested bare on the wooden surface. The cross tattooed on his hand was bathed in sunlight.

But just as you were about to reach out, you thought better of it. All of a sudden, the simple gesture made you feel… guilty.

Why though? He was your best friend, had been for years. It wouldn't mean anything to hold hands. Why was your heart rushing at the thought of intertwining your fingers with his, then?

"We should go back to work, or you'll complain that I make you go home too late again," you said, standing up too fast making your head spin, your feelings a little overwhelming all of a sudden.

He dramatically moaned, throwing himself across the table and grabbing the edge.

"Noooooo!" he whined, almost like a little child. "I don't wanna!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on, drama queen! The sooner we go back to it, the sooner we'll be done with it."

"Noooooo!"

You stood by his side, and tickled that one spot on the side of his ribs that never failed to torture him, and he burst into laughter at the first contact, jumping away from you and crossing his arms to protect himself.

"That's so unfair!" he protested, narrowing his eyes at you, which wasn't really convincing considering the bright grin plastered on his face.

The sight of his dimples made your own lips curve into a smile on their own accord.

"Come on! Back to work!"

"You are so cruel. And so bossy! Since when are you bossy like that?"

"Since I'm about to become an actual boss! I'm my own boss now! An entrepreneur!"

Harry opened the door for you, and bowed down before you, making you laugh.

"After you, then, my lady!"

You cleaned up the table outside, and were soon back at painting. You were working next to each other, Harry painting the wall and you decorating the window frame with a pastel shade of blue.

But there wasn't so much done on Harry's part. Because instead of painting, he kept on being distracted by how the sun, coming in through the window, illuminated your features. How it made your eyes glimmer, and it seemed to embrace the shape of your lips, and for a moment, Harry was jealous of even the sun.

He shook himself when he reckoned he had spent too long studying the way you slightly frowned as you focused on the task at hand.

But he figured that you were too serious. Way too serious in such a sunny and happy afternoon. So, he dipped his brush in the bucket of paint again, and drew a line on your arm, making you jump.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you squealed, moving your arm away.

But Harry didn't reply. Instead, he approached the brush again, slowly, with mischief painted all over his features from his sparkling green eyes to the smirk on his lips.

"Don't you dare!" you warned him, trying to sound serious, but a smile started to make its way across your face too. "Harry, don't you fucking dare!"

The next second he was jumping forward and putting paint all over your cheek. And of course, you retaliated, and you were both laughing and crying and struggling to keep the other at bay.

Which one of you tripped and pulled the other to the ground? You didn't know, but you both found yourselves on the floor all the same, still painting all over each other, still laughing so hard that your tummies ached and tears wet your eyelashes.

"Stop! Stop, please! Stop!" you begged as you tried to crawl away from Harry. "Stop! I give up! You win!"

"I win?"

"You win! Harry, stop! I can't breathe!"

He finally released you, putting his weapon away, and he lied down by your side on the cool floor.

It took the two of you a while to catch your breaths. When you turned to him, Harry had a large blue line running across his nose, left cheek and neck. He also had paint in his hair, and all over his arms and hands. His t-shirt was a mess too. You looked just as messy and happy as he did.

You took a moment to look at him. To let your gaze linger on the veins running up the side of his neck, and the way his hair fell all over the place, and the curve of his eyelashes, and the strong angle of his jawline. Until he turned to you as well, trapping your soul in his green eyes.

And you wished that you could look away but you couldn't. He was grinning at you, and you grinned back, because you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't do anything against his stupid dimples, and the ridiculous paint over his nose. His smiles always made you want to copy them.

And all of a sudden, as you were simply staring at him like this, all covered in paint in the empty room you had yet to turn into the shop you dreamt of, you realized that there was no one you would want more to be with you then. You were building your dream, watching it come alive, and there was no one you would rather have by your side to make it come true.

But you were with Gareth, you said you loved him, shouldn't you have wanted him to be there with you instead of Harry?

Maybe you should have. And yet, it wasn't the truth.

Harry was by your side as the most important part of your life unfolded, and it was all that mattered to you.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You're never going to leave me behind, right?"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Of course not. Where would I want to go without you anyway?"

"I don't know… ahead?"

But he shook his head, staring at you as he made a promise he knew he could never break.

"I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

You exchanged a bright smile.

"I'll always be here for you too, Harry. You know?"

"I mean… you're my best friend. It's in the job requirement."

On the brushes all around the room, the paint dried to the sound of your laughter.

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