#h.s imagine

[itisannak]

Rose-Colored Glasses, Vol.2, Part 6: New York, Zurich, London (Sugar Daddy!Harry Styles)

Summary: (Y/N) has some major career choices to make. Harry takes her along on an investors' tour, and they have a big discussion about their relationship. The penultimate part. This is an NSFW story. If you feel uncomfortable reading content like this one, feel free to scroll through my Masterlist to find something you might like. (Smut / Teasing/ Oral Sex; Female Receiving / Breeding Kink / Semi-Public Sex) (Words: 8.4k) Vol. 1, Part 1: New York City   /  Vol. 1, Part 2: New York City & Aspen  / Vol. 1, Part 3: New York City & Amalfi Coast & Rome  /  Vol. 1, Epilogue / Vol. 2, Part 1: New York  /  Vol.2, Part 2: New York, Upper East Side / Vol.2, Part 3: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City  / Vol.2, Part 4: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City / Vol.2, Part 5: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City, Winter Wonderland / Epilogue; Hawaii / My Full Masterlist / Rose-Colored Glasses Masterlist / My Ko-Fi

It has been about a year since that conversation with Harry. Another Christmas went by, with everyone's eyes glued on my ring finger, to find out whether Harry popped the question or not. It is not just his family and our friends anymore. Every time I accompany him to business dinners or trips, every time I visit his office, everyone is looking at my hands, scanning for a sparkling stone on that finger. At first, I was getting annoyed, and frustrated at the invasion of privacy. But now it is just funny, everyone is so obsessed with our relationship, so amazed by the fact Harry is in the longest relationship of his life -at least by Lita's sayings.

"Well, I will be damned..." I hear a familiar voice from the entrance of the design room. I have been helping from the game studio's headquarters lately, so I have been meeting with a lot of people. I raise my gaze to find Chimera, my old professor from my bachelor years. "Professor Fisher... It is so good to see you again. How have you been?" I ask her, leaving my pad on the desk to walk toward her. "I have been fine, Ms. (Y/L/N). Last I heard of you, you were moving out of New York." She shakes my hand. "Yes, but now I am back. I apologize for not attending our meeting all the way back." "The past is in the past, (Y/N). Tell me, what are you doing here?" She asks me. "I help with the gameplay dialogues and info, check the validity of information, you know, putting my knowledge to any use I can." I explain to my old professor who is now looking at me as if she is scanning me, looking for any excuse to judge me. "I see." "What are you doing here? This is the last place I expected to see you." I ask her. "The studio wants to recruit one of my students, apparently as your assistant, as part of their dissertation. As the head of the department, I had to check this place out." She replies. "Oh, that is amazing. I could use some help around here. And I am glad I will get to work with a fellow NYU student." I smile at her. "Now that I have found you, what about we go grab some lunch and discuss how you like it here? Maybe we can have that meeting we didn't have all this time back." She suggests. I check my wristwatch, seeing that I have at least 45 minutes until my lunch break. "I will have to ask my supervisor if I can have my break a bit earlier." I smile and point to the supervisor's office.

-

"What's up with you today?" Chrissy asks, pulling out a lace bodycon from the rack and holding it before my body. "Hm?" I realize that I have been holding onto the same pair of satin panties for the last 10 minutes, mindlessly feeling the smoothness of the fabric in my hand. "I am asking what is going on inside your head... You are off today. What is so much more interesting than lingerie shopping?" She chuckles. "I saw Chimera today... Professor Fisher." I state, placing the pair of panties in my shopping basket. "You did? And what, she sucked the life out of you?" She asks jokingly. "No... I mean, she was actually very nice. She bought me lunch." "Well, I mean, she always liked you. You were her little teacher's pet." She teases me, knowing that I am dying to hear praise from any authoritative figure. "Still, she was very difficult to deal with, you remember." "Anyways, is that the reason you are off today? Because Chimera bought you lunch?" She asks with a scoff. "I was supposed to have a meeting with her when I got back from Italy." I explain, avoiding eye contact. "(Y/N), baby. I love you, but I can't keep pressing you to extract information. You have to be the one to tell me if you want to let it out." She comments and I sigh. "She wanted to suggest I start my Ph.D. back then. She said that my research project was riveting for a bachelor student and that skills and insights like mine should not be limited to developing a mobile game. She said that if I am up for it, I can apply tomorrow morning and start next week because she will vouch for me." "(Y/N), baby... That is amazing. Oh my God, I am so proud of you, but oh, oh so jealous. You should be celebrating, not sulking." She encourages me, hugging me in celebration. "What are you thinking? Are you doing it?" She asks me. I sigh, feeling my eyes brimming with tears. "I can't afford it. I have to pay off my student loan. She said we could look for partial funding, but it is not enough for me to not go into complete debt with my current salary." I reply, feeling a tightness in my stomach. I really, really want this, but I can't have it. "Why... Why are you not... asking Harry for money? He would be more than happy to help, you know that." She suggests. "We made it very clear when we first got back together that he will not treat me like a sugar baby again." "Yeah, ok. But this is not like that and you know it." "It will feel like that to me. I won't even tell him about meeting with Chimera today. And I'll just forget about it. I have to focus on other things either way." I reply and she looks at me with a furrow on her brow. "Other things?" "I mean the game. I'd tell you if I had to plan a wedding, don't worry." I roll my eyes, showing her my still-ringless ring finger. She just hums and places the bodycon in my basket, moving to the next rack. "You know, sometimes I feel like your personal Barbie doll. You dress me up and then send me home for Harry to enjoy." "I am on his payroll for exactly that reason." She jokes. "That explains a lot, actually." I mumble and follow right behind her.

-

It has not been easy for me to move past this. I have always thought of myself as a scholar, as a person active in the field of research, someone who helps the next generations understand art a little better, and a person who helps all those stories behind artworks to be told to the world. So it is not easy for me to kick away this opportunity.

"Sunshine, you are still not ready?" Harry asks, emerging from the closet. He is trying to fix the cufflinks on his shirt's sleeves but he is struggling, so I gesture for him to come closer so I can do it for him. "I am not really feeling well. I think I am staying home tonight. Give my apologies to the company." I murmur, fixing the little decorations on his crisp, white shirt. "What is it, princess? You have been under the weather for a while now. Have you been to the doctor?" "It's fine, it's just tiredness." I assure him. I don't like lying to him, and I certainly don't enjoy watching him worry about me, but it is not really a lie. I am feeling sick, and being with his nosy business partners will not help me feel better. "Baby, have you... Have you taken a test?" He asks me. I can sense some hope in his voice. He has expressed that he wants us to have a family, but we have agreed to not rush it or force it. It will come in its own time. "A test?" I ask him. "A pregnancy test." He clarifies and I chuckle. "Harry, I am not pregnant." I hate to crush his hopes. "Are you sure? I can ask Vinny to bring you one." He offers and I nod. "I am sure. I had my period 10 days ago, remember?" I ask and he huffs. "I am just tired. I am sorry." I smile softly at him, running my thumb over his knuckles. "I'll cancel tonight. I'll stay with you, cook you a healthy soup, and we will sit and watch something on the telly." He begins unbuttoning his shirt but I stop him. "No. You should go. I will be fine for a couple of hours. I'll drink some tea, take a melatonin gummy, and go to bed. Tomorrow I'll feel better." I assure him, standing up to give him a short kiss. "Are you sure about that?" He asks me and I nod my head. "I will be fine, baby. I just need to rest. Go, have fun. I will see you during breakfast." "If you need anything, just call me." "I know." "I mean it. I will keep my phone on." "Okay, Harry. Now go, don't be late for dinner." "Fine. I am going. Oh, I can leave Vinny here. Just in case you need anything. He suggests but I shake my head no. "I will be fine on my own, Harry. But thank you for being so considerate." It is sweet of him, I can't lie. "Alright. I'll try to get out of it as soon as possible. Bye, baby. I hope you feel better soon." He moves out of the door hesitantly, leaving me alone in the empty house.

-

A knock on my office's door brings me out of my zone, stopping my typing mid-sentence. Harry stares at me through the glass door, waving at me happily. I smile and gesture for him to enter, watching him as he tries to open the door with his body. "I come bearing gifts." He announces as he walks in. And he truly does. A bouquet of fresh daisies, a large, brown paper bag from our favorite takeout place, and a smaller bag from the french patisserie near his office, all carried by him and placed on top of my desk. "This is a surprise." I state, standing up from my chair to hug him. I know that the glass door and the window divider don't give us much privacy, but I don't mind being seen hugging my man. "Is it a pleasant one?" He asks me and I hum. "Always. What are you doing here?" I ask him, inviting him to take a seat on the small, 2-seat leather couch in the corner of the room. My office is not as impressive as his, it is way smaller, way less private, and more minimalistic than his, but at least it is all mine. "You haven't visited my office in a while. So I thought I should pay my busy girlfriend a visit." He starts taking the takeout out of the bag. "You know I have been swamped lately, bub. And you see me at home all the time. Is that not enough for you? You'll wound up tired of me in the end." I joke as he hands me a lunchbox. "It will never be enough for me, no matter how many hours a day I see you. I just wished I would see you happier a lot more often." He hands me a travel mug with coffee, my usual fragrant cappuccino feeling warm in my hand, despite the isolation of the mug. "I've been feeling a bit off lately, that's all. I'll get better once spring takes over." I try to make up an excuse, but Harry is smarter than that, he doesn't buy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about the Ph.D. offer?" He asks me, sitting across from me on the couch. Well, due to the size of the furniture, we are pretty much one upon another. "Harry..." I don't know what to tell him. I didn't even realize he knew that much. "(Y/N)..." He insists, prying my head up with his pointer and middle finger. "Chrissy told you?" I ask him. "Only after I told her how miserable you've been lately. She is worried about you. I am worried about you. I thought you wanted to break up with me and didn't know how to tell me." He explains. "Harry, no. Of course not. I just... I can't afford to do it now. So what use would there be telling you? I wanted to suppress it, I wanted to forget it even happened." I admit, fidgeting with my rings. "If there is one thing I learned from therapy is that the more you suppress things, the stronger they return when they resurface. You can't ignore a smoke alarm, the fire will catch up to you. Yes, you wanted to suppress it, but it took away your happiness." "Ok, yeah. It happened. But even now, nothing has changed. I still can't do it, and now you know about it, so every time you'll look at me, you'll pity me." I sound frustrated, more so than I thought I would. "Is this Ph.D. something you want to do? Is it something that will bring happiness back to my favorite person?" He asks me and I sigh. I simply nod my head, biting my lip to stop myself from crying. "Then you should go ahead and do it." "You know I don't get paid enough to pay off my student debt and start a Ph.D." I chuckle and he scoffs. "I'll fund it." He states. "Harry, no. We have agreed you wouldn't treat this as a business deal. This is precisely why I didn't want you to know in the first place." I try to sound definite about this and cut this option off completely, but Harry remains calm and just looks at me until I am calm enough to listen to what he has to say. "I am not doing this to control you. I am not doing this to own you, or because I want you to feel in debt to me. I am doing this because this is the sort of thing you do for the person you love. I love you. And if this is going to bring the smile back to your face, I am going to pay ten times the fucking tuition." "What if we break up?" I ask him and he tilts his head to the side. "Are you planning on breaking up with me, (Y/L/N)?" He asks me. "Of course not, Harry. But shit happens, you never know. You might get bored of me, you might be the one who will want to break up." "(Y/N), baby... I will never get bored of you. I don't ever plan on breaking up with you. And believe me, if you ever decide to break up with me, the last thing I will care about will be the money. So, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), do this sad, sad man a favor and apply for the Ph.D., because every second I don't see the light in your eyes, I lose my happiness too." He takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on it. I smile and nod, moving closer to him to press a kiss on his lips. "I don't know how I will ever repay you." I whisper. He strokes my face softly, looking at me for a moment, staring deep into my eyes. "Love me. It is enough for me. Love me, because your love makes me a better person, and it makes the darkness go away. So, just... Love me." He states, stroking his thumb over my cheek. I nod my head, feeling finally ready to burst into tears. I have been holding myself for a while, trying to deny the pain I have been feeling. But now I can finally let go, I can finally admit how painful this has been for me.

-

"Is that the necklace I got you back when we first met?" Harry asks me, holding up the chain with the rose-gold plated dove necklace. I am currently finishing packing up for our trip to Europe, for an investors' tour. Harry is checking the jewelry I have packed for the trip, bored out of his mind now that he has finished with his own obligations. "It is." I smirk, looking at the dainty necklace. "You still got it?" He asks and I nod my head at him. "I thought it had long been buried in Arlington's grounds." "It is way too pretty to be buried." I reply. He hums, closing the box and placing it back into my luggage. "I hope this one is not packed to be worn in public..." He holds up a lace teddy, a baby pink, nearly transparent one, which of course Chrissy chose for me, but I couldn't agree more that I have to wear this. "Oh, this one? This one is for dinner with your parents... This, the pair of gladiator lace-up Amina Mauddi high heels you got me for Valentine's, and the silk romp Chrissy got me for Christmas... The perfect outfit for the in-laws, don't you think?" I ask him, folding in half the protective fabric bag that has one of my formal dresses inside, and placing it in my suitcase. "For the in-laws?" He asks, cheerful about the phrase I used to describe his parents. "I meant your family." "You said the in-laws, though..." He teases, walking closer to me. "I meant your family, Harry. Don't make too much of it." I scoff and he shakes his head at me. "You said the in-laws..." He grabs me by the waist, pulling me close to his body. "You said the in-laws." "Harry..." "No, no, no. Don't ruin it for me now... You said the in-laws. Which means, you are thinking of me as your husband. Tell me, (Y/N)... Are you thinking of me as your husband, baby? Are you thinking of becoming my wifey, Ms. (Y/L/N)?" He asks me, gently pushing me onto our bed. "I have to finish packing... Or else the teddy will be worn during a business dinner." I giggle. He pins my hands onto the mattress, hovering above me as he smiles. "Don't threaten me, 'cause I will call Gemma and have her send a dozen outfits to Switzerland before we land." He teases me, leaning down to bury his face in my neck. "Harry, I have a shitload of things to do." I purr, but Harry knows better than to back away. "You wanna be called Mrs. Harry Styles, baby? Cause I can arrange that... Pretty much right now." He nudges his nose on my sweetspot, causing me to sigh at the sound of his last name as mine. "Harry, baby..." "Oh, I know, I know... You want me to put a baby inside you, hm... You want that even more, don't you?" He asks, letting go of my hands and raising the hem of my sweater until it is off my body. "I just want you." I admit, succumbing to the way his lips are working on my skin. "I knew that already, baby. If you could, you would have me fuck your tight little cunt all the damn time, wouldn't you?" He asks me, moving his hands now to take off my biker shorts. "I bet this little pussy of yours is already soaked, isn't it sweetheart? Just imagine how much needier you will be with those pregnancy hormones. Fuck, we will have to build a bed in my office for our little mid-day meetings." He toys with the hem of my panties, grazing the very tip of his finger over my bikini line and sending shivers all over my body. "Damn, your impregnation kink... You know, rich guys tremble at the idea of producing spawns with random women, in case they demand a fortune for their paternity." I manage to gather enough coherence to tease him. "You've taken all logic out of my brain, princess. I don't care if I am left with a single penny after I put a baby inside you." "Now, do you want me to put a baby deep inside you? Do you want me to put a baby right here?" He asks me, kissing my lower stomach. "Yes, please, daddy." I moan, feeling his hot breath on my skin. "How much do you want me?" He asks me, lowering his lips until they rest on my still-clothed mound. "I want you so much, I can't even find the words. Please... Look how messy you've made me." I groan and Harry chuckles. "Oh, princess... But you have to pack your luggage." He slithers away, smirking victoriously. "You little shit." I protest, nearly jumping up from the bed. "Weren't you the one protesting that you have to finish packing?" He asks cockily, walking into the bathroom with a toiletry bag in hand, whistling a tune in faux-mindlessness. "Get back here, Styles." I groan, folding my arms before my chest. "We have to finish packing, sunshine. Get back to it." He sounds too smug for my liking like he knows he won this round. Fuck, this is the last time I play hard to get when I want him that bad.

-

"I can't believe I won't see you for 3 whole weeks." Chrissy sighs before pouting at me. I roll my eyes playfully, knowing how dramatic she is right now. "Chrissy, we have gone way longer without seeing each other." "Not since you moved back to New York..." She mumbles. "I'll bring you Swiss chocolates to make up for the lost time." "Bitch, you keep your Swiss chocolates. You'd better bring me a Swiss watch." I laugh at her comment, earning looks from the jet's crew who are impatiently waiting for me to hang up. "I'll do my best. Chrissy, baby, I gotta hang up. We are preparing for takeoff and I need to switch to airplane mode." "Fine. Stay safe, call me when you land." She demands. "I don't know what time it is going to be here when we land there, honey." "I don't care... You call me. Love you, be ok." She greets me. It is adorable how much she worries about me, it makes me feel like someone has my back.

I would be lying if I said I don't get why she is so worried; the last time I left for so long with Harry, it was for that trip to Italy, and we all remember how that went. Of course, Harry and I have traveled abroad again since we got back together. But it is the first time we are going to be gone for so long. And it is the first time we are traveling for business. I can feel the nervousness in my stomach, and a burn in the back of my nose. It feels awful, and I am glad I share the feeling with Chrissy, because Harry seems on cloud nine, completely in his own fucking world, and not too bothered by what is clearly on my mind.

I put my phone on airplane mode and grab my journal -a beautiful recycled leather journal that Chrissy got me for my research-, and my laptop. With around 80 academic journals, articles, and pdfs, I have enough to entertain myself during the long flight, the long trip to be honest.

"We are all set." Harry announces, plopping down on his seat. The comfortable seats allow me to sit fully curled on mine, my laptop resting on my lap. I know it is not the best position to study in, and I will soon have to change it, but for now, it will have to do. "When are we taking off?" I ask and he chuckles. "Eager to get up high, sunshine?" He asks me with a soft smile. "Not really. I am just craving coffee and I know they are supposed to serve us after takeoff." "Oh, they are not?" He asks as he motions for a flight attendant to approach us. "Can you please bring us some coffee? The pretty lady over there needs a caffeine boost, she is an academic..." He comments, looking at me adoringly. I cock an eyebrow at him, opening my laptop to access the folder. "Right away, sir." The flight attendant smiles and walks to the front to execute Harry's request "You didn't have to do that. And I am not an academic." I mumble and he chuckles. "You are a Ph.D. candidate, correct? And you wanted some coffee, right? We are passengers on this flight, we can have some coffee." He states. I just hum, focusing my gaze on the text before me. "Is someone a little pissy today?" He asks me, leaving his seat and walking towards me. "Nope." "Oh my God. Are you mad at me?" He asks me with a sly smirk. "That I am." I admit. "Look at my perfect doll, owning up to how she feels... I am so proud of you." He licks his lips, sitting on the arm of my seat. "Aren't you going to ask why I am mad at you?" I ask him and he shakes his head, stroking the side of my face. "Oh, I know why already..." He scoffs. The flight attendant brings a tray with coffee and paraphernalia. "Oh, you do? So tell me, Harry, the all-knowing, why am I mad at you?" I ask him, peaking at the pot of coffee to avoid eye contact with his smug, stupid face. "It is because I haven't fucked you in the last 4 days, isn't it? Your little cunt is so wet, desperate, and hungry for my cock that you've turned horniness into anger. You crave me so much that you are pissed you can't have me." He states. My eyes dart straight to the flight attendant, who backs away with wide eyes. "People can hear you, you know..." I mumble, but Harry seems to not care. "I am telling the truth, am I not?" He asks me. "Yes, yes... I am pissed at you for not fucking me, Harry. You have been teasing me for days now, and you have been leaving me high and dry. How is that fair? You know, it reminds me of the stupid bet we had last year before Christmas... And if I remember, we both did not like that time of our life." I clench my jaw, making Harry chuckle at me. He grips my chin, making me look at him and calm down from my fluster. "4 days without my cock inside you and you are spiraling... Oh, dove... I should have known how desperate my wife gets without feeling me inside her." He teases me. "I am not your wife." I protest and he hums. "From all I said, you chose to protest the wife part... Interesting." He states and I shrug. "I want you to count 75 minutes from when we take off. After 75 minutes, I want you to get up and head to the bathroom, wait for me there... I promise you, I am going to make it up to you for the dry spell." "We are not having sex on this plane." "Yes, we are. I have always wanted to join the mile-high club. And now, I have the most perfect partner to do so. So, we either do it in the bathroom, or I take you right here, with only a lap blanket hiding what this mean, big man is doing to this sweet, little angel." He cocks an eyebrow at me, expecting an answer. Despite the idea of him fucking me before everyone's eyes is turning me on to the point I have to press my thighs together, I am way too shy to ever do that. "Fine. 75 minutes." "Until then, I want you to focus on your bibliography." He reaches for the pot, pours me a cup of coffee, and hands it to me. "You are a huge dick, Styles." I roll my eyes, taking the first sip of coffee. "Oh, I know that." He winks at me, moving back to his seat.

I could not stand still while waiting for time to pass. I thumped my pencil on my journal countless times until I filled a page with random lines from thumping. What was worse was that Harry seemed too focused on his tablet, not even throwing me an accidental look. I hate that he looks so casual when I know he burns for me.

I followed his instructions down to the very last word. I took my refreshing cosmetics pouch that I had packed in my backpack for a touchup before landing and headed to the bathroom, which seems way more spacious than the ones on commercial flights. Of course, Harry had to tease me, making me long for him even more. He calls it delayed gratification, I call it torture.

A knock on the door, and then my heart pounding that someone might need the bathroom, and I got excited over nothing. "(Y/N), baby... It's Harry. Let me in so I can help you. Is it your travel sickness again?" He asks me from the other side of the door. I am confused, eyebrows furrowed together, but I decide to play along without phrasing my bewilderment. I open the door for him, allowing him inside the bathroom which now feels not-so-spacious. "Since when do I get travel sickness?" I ask him once he locks the door. "Since we need a cover. I needed a reason to join you. Would you rather if I said morning sickness?" He asks me, gently cornering me against the wall. One hand rests on my waist, the other on my face, and he is looking at me with a dominant expression. I love that expression, I love it on Harry and Harry only. "Smart, Styles..." I comment with a soft smile. "Just creative, dove. Very creative when it comes to pleasuring my wife." "Not your wife..." I comment and he smirks. "Right, not yet." He states, slipping his hand into my culottes. I gasp when his fingers find their way to my panties, toying with my cunt that is still covered by the thin, cotton undergarment. "Oh, look...My favorite cunt is so wet, it has a damp patch already." He chuckles and coos, rubbing his fingers along my slit. "Are you here to tease me, Styles?" I ask him, too desperate to even try to hide it. "Part of my job description is that, yeah..." He states, kissing the nape of my neck. "Styles..." "Styles..." He repeats at me, making me roll my eyes at him. "I go by (Y/L/N)." I remind him and he scoffs. "You'll go by Styles, just for me..." He kneels on the floor before me, lowering my bottoms along my panties. "Just for you?" I ask him, feeling his breath on my thighs. "Just for me. Only I will be allowed to call you Mrs. Styles. Mrs. Harry Styles. Deal, baby?" "Deal." I whimper as he fixes my leg onto his shoulder, allowing him access to my sex. "That's my good girl. Mon soleil. And now, I am going to reward you." He goes straight in, his tongue lapping up my sex, circling on the tip of my clit obnoxiously slow.

I know I have to keep quiet because there is no soundproofing in this shoebox of a bathroom. I know that a few feet from us are top executives of Harry's corporation. I also know that what we are doing is technically illegal. I know all that, and still, all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs how good his mouth is at pleasuring me. I feel my heartbeat in my stomach and I can tell that it will only take a couple of seconds for the whole plane to hear me beg for more if I don't do anything to shut myself up. So I press my hand against my mouth, biting it until I feel my teeth leave marks on my skin. Harry moans lowly, enjoying himself as he savors me and sends vibrations to my sex. The sensation travels all across my spine, making my scalp tingle. "Harry..." I call for his attention. In return, he brings his gaze to meet mine, his beautiful, bright, green gaze fully on me. "I need you inside me." I beg, as quietly as I can. I need him, I need to feel him, all of him before I burst. "Oh, no, sunshine... We are having the main course when we land. Now it is just a little treat, a small preview." He kisses my inner thigh as he speaks, using his fingers in lieu of his mouth, pumping 2 fingers inside me. "But I need you... And is it really the mile-high club if it is just oral?" I ask him, my hand traveling to his curls. "I am sure the club's board won't be upset." He states, his mouth joining his fingers in pursuit of my high.

I understand there is no point in begging him for more now. He is going to give me what he has been planning to give me, and Harry is not one to go against his plans. Well, he wasn't, until he met me. And since then, he has been persistently failing to keep up with the precalculated path. We were not supposed to have sex, and then he succumbed to my seduction. He was not supposed to fall for me, yet he couldn't move on after we broke up. He was not supposed to wait for me, and yet he changed himself in preparation for my comeback. We were not meant to become addicted to each other, but here we are, unable to spend a day apart. "Deeper, please. Please, Harry." I mumble, sufficing to just the feeling of his fingers in that spot deep inside me. He seems to follow my wish, dipping his fingers knuckles deep inside me. "Are you going to cum in my mouth, sunshine?" He asks me, only parting from my sex momentarily. "I don't think I will be able to keep quiet. Edge me." It hurts me physically to ask for that, but we have no option. "Oh, no, honey. You are cumming for me. I don't care if everyone hears how good I eat this beautiful cunt." He uses his free hand to grab onto my hips and keep me there as he brings me to my breaking point. My sex glues to his face as I reach my spine-chilling high, eyes shutting tightly as I bite onto my palm. "There is my delicious girl... God, look at my honey, look how good she looks when she cums." Harry stands up, pressing me against the wall as he brings his lips to mine. "Do you think we are going to get arrested?" I ask, cradling his face softly in my hand. "For what?" He asks back. "For fucking in public..." "No one knows. And if they did, they would have burst in to stop us. We'll be fine, my love." He assures me, kissing the tip of my nose.

-

"You look so hot in just a towel..." Harry whispers in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist. "You think I look hotter without it." I chuckle, scrunching my hair with the microfibre towel. "Look who's turned cocky." He turns my head, bringing his lips to mine. "All the worshipping you do has finally gotten to my head." "Objective completed then." He peels the towel off my body, letting it fall on the floor. "Harry, we have dinner with Gemma in an hour. " I remind him as his hand snakes down to my sex. "Yeah, I remember that." He rubs his fingers in circles on my clit, slowly inching them down to collect some wetness from my entrance. "I have to get ready for it. And you are a distraction, currently." "Oh, I am a distraction? Like you were when you wore that high-slit gown for dinner with the Dewis family?" He asks me, still moving his fingers slowly. "Oh, is that it?" I ask him, using my teasing voice, just to get on his nerves a little more. "All fucking night, all I could think of was your fucking pussy. And you made it even harder when you handed me your damn panties. Do you even know what it took for me not to blow everything up? Do you have any idea how much you could have cost me that night if I did not salvage the situation?" He is working his fingers faster, yet his voice is very calm, almost soothing. "And what's worse, princess, is that I would not give a damn if I lost money that night. All that mattered was the fact I had to have you. That's what you are doing to me, Mrs. Styles. That's how hooked you have me." He growls by my ear, stroking my clit faster. "Harry..." I whimper, gripping onto his forearm. "You can go ahead and get ready. I'll just have my fun with you." He sounds serious, his fingerpads pressing onto my sensitive bundle of nerves. "Harry, you know I can't concentrate on anything else with your hand between my thighs." I protest, my head falling back onto his shoulder. "Now you know how that feels." He is satisfied with himself. "Harry..." I purr, in a final effort to win this argument. "Time is passing, baby. We don't want my sister to wait, do we?" He chuckles, slowly teasing my sex. "You are so paying for this..." I whimper, bucking my hips on his hand. "Oh, princess...l don't think you understand... You are paying for what you did yesterday." He strokes my cheek with his free hand.

"You seem to have forgotten your manners, Styles." Gemma greets us as we reach the table reserved for us. "Sorry, darling. Someone took all night to get ready." Harry kisses his sister's cheek before allowing me to hug her. "Oh, no, baby... You are not putting the blame on me... Your brother seemed to have his hands full with obligations, Gem." I turn my head to watch Harry's reaction with a smirk on my face. He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head, keeping a playful smile on his face. "Oh, sweetheart, I believe you. You can take Harry out of the boardroom, but you cannot take the boardroom out of Harry." Gemma chuckles, taking a step back to check me out. "You look amazing, (Y/N). My God, how long has it been since the last time I saw you?" She asks as Harry pulls a chair out for me. "You never visit, Styles." Harry comes back, making her hum. "Thank God you conduct business in Europe and we see you once in a blue moon." "Are we here for you two to bicker back and forth?" I ask, picking up the menu card. "That's our love language, sunshine." He responds, kissing the back of my hand. "You would know if my brother didn't hog you all to himself at every visit." Gemma cocks an eyebrow at Harry, picking up the card as well. "Gemma, babes, can you stop staring at (Y/N)'s hands? We'd tell you if we were getting married." "Mum's raised the bet. If I lose half a grand because you cannot commit..." "Half a grand?" I ask, eyes going wide at the new information. "You can understand the kind of stress I am under. We are talking about good money." "What's your bet, Gemma?" I ask, biting my bottom lip. "Under 3 months." She replies. I turn my head to look at Harry who tilts his head and shrugs. "You might win it." I mumble, going back to the menu to make up my mind about what I want to eat tonight.

-

"Help me out of my dress?" I ask Harry who is already out of his shirt and drinking his last drink of the night. "Gladly." He leaves his glass down as I gather my hair up to reveal the zipper of my dress. "My sister made you feel uncomfortable, didn't she?" He asks me, slowly unzipping me. "No, it was actually nice. I like hanging out with Gemma." "I am talking about the stupid bet. It was fun at first until they started betting money. Now it is just annoying and creepy." He comments, grazing my spine with the knuckles of his fingers. "Same goes with your business partners... They were so pushy about the marriage topic. Everyone keeps on asking the same question; when is the wedding..." "They are worried you might realize you deserve better and leave me." He kisses the base of my neck before I turn around to face him. "This is nonsense, Harry. I love you too much to walk away." I place my hands on his chest, looking up at him as he touches my cheek softly. "Shall we do it then? So they stop asking?" He asks me, his face calm and voice steady. "Are you asking me to marry you so others stop asking?" I ask him back with a chuckle, but my heart is pounding in my chest. It is happening, for the first time he is honestly asking me to marry him. "Well, we already live like a couple, where is the hurt in signing a paper?"

For a moment my stomach sinks; it is just a formality. "Besides, I don't want to spend my life with anyone else but you. And I would very much like for everyone to know you are mine, and just mine." He kisses my lips tenderly, only for a second before he pulls away a few inches and stares at me. "Is this an actual proposal? Do you need an answer?" I ask him. "I...I mean... I know I don't have a ring and that it is spontaneous, but I..." "Yes, Harry. I want to marry you. Fuck the ring, fuck the prep, fuck everything. I'd marry you with paper rings tomorrow morning in the mayor's hall." I reach up, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him deeply. "Did you mean what you said? About marrying me tomorrow morning in the mayor's hall?" Harry asks me as I stroke his hair hazily. "And the paper rings part." I reply, still not able to wrap my brain around the fact he proposed. Harry, the love of a lifetime, the love of my life, asked me to be in his life forever. "You don't want a big wedding?" He asks me and I shake my head. "I never did, to be honest. Ideally, I'd like it to just be me and you. But we have to have witnesses." I roll my eyes and he hums. "Me, you, the mayor, Vinny, Chrissy, and Gemma." Harry counts on his fingers. "What are you thinking?" I chuckle and he smiles at me, kissing the tip of my nose. "Let's get married when we get back to New York. My assistant will do all the paperwork, we will buy whatever we need from here, we will invite just our witnesses and get married in New York, Saturday morning." He suggests. "Don't you want a big wedding?" I ask him, biting my bottom lip. The idea of a quick, no-fuss wedding excites me. "No, fuck that. We will sign our paperwork, and then I'll pick you up and leave for our honeymoon. Fuck anything else." He states. "If we invite Chrissy, we will have to invite Adrian." "Sure. But no family. Just Gemma because she is going to neuter me if she is not there at our wedding." "Deal. I'll call Chrissy. Saturday morning?" I ask him and he nods. "Friday we are going to be back in NY, Saturday I am marrying you." He says excitedly, placing a hand on the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. "Let's call Chrissy. But you will be quiet and go along with what I say. Promise?" I hold my pinky up for him. He chuckles and links it with mine before I blindly reach for my phone by my pillow.

Chrissy doesn't take long to pick up the phone. Her cheerful voice fills our hotel room, making Harry chuckle. "Hey, babes. What are you doing up this late, little minx?" She asks, singing at the phone almost. "Hey, Chrissy. I've missed you and I know you get off work around this time of the day. How are you?" "I am ok, missing my best friend and thinking of all the gifts she is bringing me from Europe." She says suggestively. I hum and roll my eyes, not that she can see my reaction. "Hope you like fridge magnets and keychains." "That's how much I am worth for you?" She gasps playfully. "Such a drama queen. Anyway, I didn't call you to discuss that. As I said and went unnoticed, I have missed you. And I was wondering if you and Adrian would like to join Harry and me for brunch on Saturday. There is this cool place across from NYC's town hall we've been dying to go and we thought it would be perfect to see you there when we return." "Oh my God, yes. What's that place? Have I heard of it?" She asks. "Nope. It is fairly new and exclusive. So dress up nicely and have some ID with you, they are pretty strict." "Oh, fancy. What time should we meet?" She asks me. I turn to Harry who just shrugs. "We have to make a reservation, so I don't know the time yet. I'll have to update you on that..." "OK, cool then. Will you find a reservation on such short notice?" She asks and I scoff. "Please. We have Harry's name opening every door. Who wants to piss off the mighty mister Styles?" I ask. Harry pokes my ribs playfully, causing me to slap his hand away. "Sometimes I forget you have one of New York's most powerful men wrapped around your pinky." She laughs. "Hm, only because he has me wrapped around his as well." I wink at Harry who just shakes his head. "You guys are sickeningly cute." "Said the girl who rejected her hoe side and married a year after meeting her husband." "I am not to be compared. Anyways, I have to go pick up dinner. Adrian will eat me if there is no food on the table in the next 20 minutes." "Since when do you complain about Adrian eating you?" I ask with a cocked eyebrow. "Your head is so deep in the gutter, (Y/L/N)." "I try my hardest, babes. K, bye. I have to go to bed." "See you on Saturday." She sings before the line goes dead.

"I think she is going to be pretty pissed when we don't have that exclusive bruncherie." Harry comments as I leave my phone down. "I think she is going to get over it when she signs as a witness to our wedding. Besides, we are heading for brunch after the wedding." I place my leg over his thigh, nesting my head on his chest. "Whatever the boss wants." He strokes his hand down my back. "I am the boss?" I ask, placing a kiss on his sternum. "Who else?" He asks back. "Why didn't you tell her about the wedding?" He asks me and I sigh. "She would make a big deal out of it. Plus, she would try to find a way to throw me a bachelorette party and I really don't want to spend a night away from you..." I explain and he coos. "So obsessed with me, my baby." He kisses the top of my head as I feel my eyelids become heavy. "We need to sleep... We have a big day tomorrow." "I thought the big day was on Saturday." "Yeah, but tomorrow we have to get the rings, the outfits, arrange for the paperwork, all the details. Plus, you have meetings, don't you?" I ask him and he groans. "Let me call my assistant for the paperwork." Harry tries to reach for his phone but I grab his forearm to stop him. "In the morning. Let him sleep." I smile at him, earning a sigh from him. "I can't wait... You are going to be my wife, my Mrs. Styles..." He strokes my cheek, smiling brightly. "Sleep now, Mr. Styles. We have a lot of things to do tomorrow. And I would hate for you to not look fresh and rested in our wedding pictures." I kiss the side of his neck and wrap my arms around him.

-

"Oh, we have to look this fancy..." Chrissy comments as she approaches us on the stairs of the town hall. I smile at her, hugging her and giving her a cheek kiss. "Thought I dress up a bit." I shrug my shoulders as she scans me from head to toe. "It suits you. I love the oversized blazer and the pant line. Though, creme looks a bit bridal." "Oh, no, honey. We can't have you looking like a bride without being one. We must do something about it..." Harry gasps dramatically, faking a shocked look. "You are absolutely right, baby. But what can we do... What can we do..." I shake my head. I must look ridiculous. "Oh, I know. Let's head right in there and get married. We have to, there is no other option now that you are dressed like that." Harry suggests, pointing at the town hall. I don't know who is a worse actor, him or I. "Excellent idea. Let's go." I giggle as Harry brings the bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "This was all a setup..." Chrissy gasps, jumping forward to hug us both. "I owed you a setup for what you did on your wedding day." I tease her and she scoffs. "If it wasn't for that set up we wouldn't be here today." Adrian chimes in, defending his wife. "That's why we thought it would be nice if you were our witnesses. It would actually be our honor if you accepted." Harry suggests, looking eagerly at our friends. "I would never talk to you again if you didn't ask us." Chrissy is on the verge of crying, right where I am too. "We should head in. Gemma and Vinny are waiting for us." Harry states, putting a pause to the crying session. "The mayor too." I giggle. "You two should head in. I'll give her away to you." Chrissy orders the two men, focusing on fixing the collar of my blazer. "Chrissy..." Harry protests, showing her his watch. "Styles, I spoke." She digs her heels into the ground, staring down at my very soon-to-be-husband. He raises his hands in defeat as Adrian pats his back. "Come on, you are not winning this argument. Chrissy, baby... Don't drag this out, yes, love?" Adrian requests, to which my friend hums. "Just a super quick bachelorette to give her the chance to change her mind... Just kidding. We will be right behind you." Chrissy assures them, dismissing them with a motion of her hand.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks me and I nod my head. "I am. I have never been so sure about anything else. He is the one. And I have to thank you for our second chance. If it weren't for you insisting he has changed, I would never even talk to him again." "And if it wasn't for that one night out, I would have never met Adrian, and there wouldn't be a wedding to invite you both to and bring you together again. Harry and you are meant to be, and everything has happened for that reason. Alright, it is time I hand you over to Harry. And I might be giving you away to him, but I am never giving you up. I love Harry and he is perfect. But I will always love you more, I will always choose you. A phone call away, and I will bust his head open." She strokes my cheek as I look up to avoid tears spilling from my eyes. "No time for tears, my bestie is getting married and I have to make sure she doesn't run away at the very last moment." Chrissy holds her hand out, inviting me to link my arm with hers.

-

Vol. 1, Part 1: New York City   /  Vol. 1, Part 2: New York City & Aspen  / Vol. 1, Part 3: New York City & Amalfi Coast & Rome  /  Vol. 1, Epilogue / Vol. 2, Part 1: New York  /  Vol.2, Part 2: New York, Upper East Side / Vol.2, Part 3: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City  / Vol.2, Part 4: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City / Vol.2, Part 5: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City, Winter Wonderland / Epilogue; Hawaii / My Full Masterlist / Rose-Colored Glasses Masterlist / My Ko-Fi

[someone7619]

What have I done. I was trying to practice coding on Roblox Studio but instead I accidentally robloxified my man mike. Now this dude is gonna be gleaning people in Work at a Pizza Place. 😭😭😭

[sturniqlo]

Just A Taste- M.S

summary: a matt the MUNCH blurb

cw: cursing, SMUT; making out, hickies, oral!f!receiving, fingering, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting

an: cooked this one up really quickly

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"could we live with just a taste? just a taste."- mfasr, h.s

-

-

"Baby, please." Matt says through the swirl of their tongues. "Just a taste, wanna- wanna taste you." He drags a finger down her exposed torso and presses it against her clothed clit. "Fuck!" Y/n whines against his mouth. "Can I? Can I taste you?" He looks up her before kissing along her neck.

"Yes, please. Want your mouth on me." She bucks her hips and his finger presses harder, making her moan louder. Matt wastes no time and kisses down her body, putting her legs over his shoulders. He kisses along her thighs and bites her inner thigh. "Matt!" She hisses. He chuckles against her plump flesh. Kissing up her inner thigh, he purposely misses the place where she needs him the most and kisses her tattoo.

"Fucking love this tattoo." He licks and sucks a hickey onto her skin. "Matt, please. Stop teasing." She sighs. "Okay, okay." He disconnects himself from her tattoo and hooks a finger through her black lacy panties and pulls them down, taking them off. "So wet for me, babe." His mouth waters at the sight of her glistening pussy. His hot breath against her core makes her shiver.

"Who made you this wet, hm?" He places a wet kiss against her puffy clit. "You, you did." She hums in delight. "That's right." He says before diving in and starts eating her out. "Oh- shit! You're so fucking good." Y/n's eyes roll back. "Taste so sweet. Fucking missed your taste." He moans against her cunt, the vibrations making it feel even better than it was before if that's even possible.

Matt licks from her dripping hole all the way up to click, sucking on it. "Just like that." She rolls her hips against his face, pulling on his hair. "Want one of my fingers?" He mutters against her. "Yes, fill me up." She whines. Matt continues to suck on her clit and brings his pointer finger to her hole collecting some of her arousal, drenching his finger before putting it in slowly. "Shit!"

He thrusts his finger in and out of her, still sucking and nibbling on her clit. Y/n cries with pleasure and feels the familiar tightness in her lower belly. "I'm close, don't- don't stop." She tugs on his hair. "Mm, want another finger?" He looks up at her. She nods. "Yes! Give me another one!" Matt disconnects his mouth from her clit and watches as his middle finger enter her hole alongside his other one. "Fuck!"

Matt practically moans at the erotic sight. "Look at your pussy taking my finger so good. I can only imagine my cock. You always wrap around me so nicely." He kisses her clit. "I'm- I'm cumming! Fuck- holy shit!" Her legs shake around his head almost closing, but Matt manages to keep them open. As she rides her high out, Matt keeps on fingering her and licking her clit.

"Matt- I- fuck!" Her legs shake even more. "Give me one more, I know you can." He says. "I- I can't!" Her eyes well up with tears due to the pleasure. "Yes you can. I can feel you squeezing around my fingers already." He connects his mouth to her once more and removes his finger. His hand comes up to her clit and rubs it rapidly. "Shit- I'm- I'm cumming!" She cries, her back arching off of the bed.

"Fuck, baby. You squirted all over my hand and face. So fucking hot." He kitty licks her overly sensitive pussy. "Matt- I can't!" She pushes his head away. "I know, baby. Let me just clean you up with my tongue." He kisses around her lightly. Matt comes off of her and goes up to her to kiss her.

"Did so good for me." He says against her lips. "Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?" She nods. "Always, just- just give me a minute." She giggles.

[succulentsiren]

Imagine who you could be if only you had the audacity.

If you didn’t care about looking stupid. If you weren’t afraid of making mistakes. If you didn’t put other people’s judgements before your own. If you didn’t neglect your responsibilities. If you didn’t procrastinate. If you didn’t let the toxic voice win. If you didn’t overthink everything. If you didn’t fear your own power.

Imagine that you have the audacity.

That you take bold actions. That you take accountability for yourself. That you unapologetically show your creativity to the world. That you ignore the naysayers. That you remain unbothered. That you allow yourself to be seen. That you embrace all that you are. That you speak your truth. That you allow yourself to make mistakes and learn from them, then become a winner. That you speak highly to yourself. That you begin your journey right now.

Don’t block yourself from being your greatest.

H.S.

[jezebelblues]

talk to me | h.s

summary: holland tunnel for a nose, it’s always backed up! or, harry struggles with sobriety after y/n leaves

cw: cocaine usage/addiction, angst!!! ex!harry, fem!reader, unedited. ladies imagine the vine boom sound as i dare to say.. toxic!harry 🤨

word count: approx 6.1k

| pls don’t read if you’re sensitive to substance abuse. this is pure angst. i literally wrote this on a whim after seeing the car photo on my tl.

masterlist

harry was stubborn. but then again, so was YN.

he didn’t mean for things to end the way they did, he was stuck in a lull since love on tour ended. it was always the inbetween—purgatory, he would call it. a euphoria cut short, leaving him marooned in a space before the settle.

touring ignited his soul, an always occurring rebirth every time he steps upon the stage. but now it’s march, and he’s standing alone in the heathrow airport after his self-imposed exile in italy.

the air was crisp, biting, and tangled with the faintest trace of her perfume—vanilla, the one he'd bought her, the one she wore on the nights they'd venture out together. if he closed his eyes, he could picture her bathed in neon, colors playing on her skin like she was something holy.

if he thought hard enough, he could feel the phantom burn in his nose as it did in october. he could feel the warm trickle of blood drip down his cupid’s-bow if he overdid it. he could taste the metallic crimson that would slip past his lips and stain his teeth. he could remember the look of horror on her face as he shot her a bloody smile, eyes too dilated to come into his senses—too far gone.

but if he fished through his wallet, he wouldn’t find his old debit card—the one he had closed out in 2011 when his fame started to rise. it’s what he always used to form his lines, and remnants of the white powder were a staple on that card. a relic from a life he was beginning to lose control over.

after that night in october, when they got home, YN had snatched it from his wallet and cut it to pieces in front of him, her face twisted in anguish, not anger. she loved him, and that was the worst part.

a superstar like him could indulge, sure. a line here, a hit there—california sober, he used to joke. but as the tour ended, that fleeting thrill had turned into something darker, something that clawed at his insides when the spotlight faded. something he’d turn to for the semblance of exhilaration he had on the road.

so, now he was out of his lucky, unusable debit card. and, sometimes at night, he would think of the way the pieces are drifting around a landfill, scattered and forgotten.

but then he would think of YN. and no, that couldn’t compare, it wouldn’t.

he didn’t have to squint or fish through his contacts, she was just gone. and he knew it.

that night she had threatened to leave if he didn’t get sober, and harry fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around her bare thighs and begged her to stay. he could feel the lotion lift from her skin because of his tears, the way it burned his eyes. she had fell down to the floor with him that night, combing through his curls and whispering promises that she wouldn’t leave if he just tried. that’s all he had to do. they fell asleep on the couch that night.

harry thought he had gotten rid of everything. he had one slip up, and he remembered how YN’s eyes glossed over when she told him he had one more chance.

it was the day before halloween when she found a dime bag of the familiar white powder stashed away in one of his drawers—an afterthought. a remnant, a leftover.

harry tried to explain it wasn’t new, something that remained forgotten. he desperately followed her out to her car in the rain, holding the drivers door open as he pleaded. but she started the engine. she was leaving, and he knew it.

he remembers the way his frustration boiled over. maybe it was projection, withdrawal, or the pain of watching the love of his life walk away. but he had slammed the drivers door shut, slapping his palm against the window with a shaky sob as she drove off.

he hadn’t seen her since. he disappeared into italy afterward, hiding in his villa. he would have virtual therapy sessions every thursday, lots of which ended in his tears.

he knew he was blocked, he could tell by the way his blue messages no longer had the word delivered underneath them. because they weren’t. just conversations with a ghost. a stonewalled grave.

he had only started to come to terms with the end of their relationship in february, after his thirtieth birthday. there was no message, no phone call, no knock upon his door. he was just alone in italy.

harry thought about relapsing that day. he thought about calling a friend of a friend and falling into the vibrant world only the blow could offer.

but he didn’t, he called his mum. he called his therapist. he drank some wine, sang himself a somber happy birthday over a strawberry cupcake, and then slept for thirteen hours.

now he was at the airport in the heart of london. he only had his carry on, roses from the gift shop, and so many words left unsaid. the airport was unusually quiet that afternoon, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over harry as he stood there, unmoving. london was a different reality, pulling him back into the damp chill of march and the weight of everything he'd left unresolved. he tasted a tinge of salt in the air, his nerves raw as he thought of her—the girl he'd lost, the girl he couldn't let go of.

he didn’t even know if she still lived in the same brick townhouse, but it was worth a shot. he didn’t really even think this through, he had enough clothing for about three days, and his car was about thirty minutes away from her place at his own house.

but he ubered there anyway, grateful it was only an older fellow who had no clue who he was. he would shove his nose into the flowers occasionally, smelling them with a gentle inhale. he shifted in his seat, turned his phone on and off with every passing minute to watch the time pass. he was restless, he was nervous.

her flat looked the same as it always did when he was dropped off, but there was a festive little reef still hanging on her door from christmas. a whisper of a smile tugged at his lips from that.

his own body felt heavier on his feet as he stood before her door, it felt like he could topple over and perish in that moment. harry thought it wouldn’t be the worst thing if he did, perhaps she would even miss him—no, he thought, tempting as it was—really messed up.

right?

he shook his head at his own thoughts, raising his fist to knock on her door. it was light, he wasn’t even sure if it’s something she’d hear. the brunette debated knocking again, harder this time, but he heard her voice behind the barrier.

“coming!”

he felt weak in the knees. it was her voice, no mistaking it. she was real, still here, just behind the door. YN’s voice felt like a fresh sherpa blanket, still soft and unused. it sounded like honey stirred into tea. harry really thought he could topple over at that point.

the door swung open and there she was, only a foot away after being hundreds of miles apart for so long. her hair was different, and she had a pair of glasses he hadn’t seen before resting on the bridge of her nose. her lips were parted, face drained of all color as she stared at him.

the words caught in harry’s throat, and he stood speechless. he only raised the roses toward her with a shaky hand, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

she looked down at the deep red flowers, then back into his green eyes. the eyes that were so familiar, eyes that took in every part of her being and imprinted into his brain. but the petals resembled the blood pooled between his teeth only a few months ago, the way it dripped onto her new dress as she eased him out of the club that night.

her throat ran dry as she swallowed hard, her stomach lurching and threatening to spill all over her porch and harry’s beat up sambas. “what–what’re you doing here?” her voice barely a whisper, both broken and brimming with something he couldn't place. she had missed him—he could feel it—but the anger lingered, a smoldering ember just beneath the surface.

the bouquet continued to tremble in his hands. “i had to see you.” he murmured, voice shaking underneath his nerves. he couldn’t hold eye contact with her, something he had never struggled with before. “i couldn’t—i miss you, YN.”

she pressed her lips together, the sight of him here in front of her resembling that of whiplash. it’s been five months, how do you even respond to that? he dropped off the face of the earth after she left, and she understood that to an extent. she’s the one who left, she’s the one who blocked him after he would constantly reach out.

she called his mum on his birthday, needing to reach out in some form, needing to know how he was. she begged her not to tell him that she phoned, something anne kept away from her son with an ache in her heart. “why now?” she mustered out, the pressure behind her eyes almost to much to bear.

he blinked, surprised by the softness in her tone.

he had expected a door slammed in his face, anger, roses thrown onto the snowy pavement. but this—a fragile, weary version of her—felt like a wound laid bare. the question hovered in the air, unanswered. he wasn't sure if he had the words to explain.

"i know i hurt you.” his voice cracked, breaking under the weight of his guilt. he hated himself for it—for leaving her, for drowning in his own mess, for not being stronger. "i thought maybe if i went away, if i fixed myself, i could come back."

"come back?” her laugh was bitter, sharp. "you think this is something you can just come back to, like nothing happened?" she shook her head, taking a step back, as if his presence was suffocating her. "you don't get it, do you? i spent my days worrying if you were okay, if i were going to find you dead on the floor next to a bag of coke. and now you just show up?"

harry flinched at her words, at the coldness in her tone, though he couldn't blame her. he had done this. he had broken this.

“i messed up," he said, his voice thick with desperation. "i know i should've done more. i should've been better f’you, but i wasn't. i’m trying now. i’ve been trying every day, YN."

she stared at him, her eyes glossed with unshed tears, but her expression was hard, unreadable.

she wasn't going to make this easy for him, and he knew it. she shouldn't. "trying?" she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet. "you’re trying now? after everything? after the lies, the broken promises? after you begged me to stay, told me you'd quit, and then i found that–” her voice broke, "–that bag? that was it for me, harry. that was it.”

harry opened his mouth to speak, but YN’s soft, wavering sniffle filled the space between them. her pretty eyes fell shut, and she muttered, “you should go.” the words barely made it past her lips before she closed the door, shutting him out in one quiet, final motion. no glance back.

for a moment, he just stood there, arm hanging loosely at his side, the roses brushing against his knee. his shoulders sagged as the reality settled—he had expected this, even told himself it was inevitable. but still, some desperate part of him had clung to hope.

with a sigh that cut deep, he turned, trudging down the narrow stairwell outside her flat. his heart felt like dead weight in his chest, and each step echoed softly, swallowed by the damp, early evening air. at the last step, he sat, letting his jeans absorb the chill from the wet concrete. he laid the flowers beside him, petals dark against the fading light, and clasped his hands in front of him, jaw tight as he fought the burning in his eyes.

harry couldn’t bring himself to go back to his house. he knew what waited for him there: bits and pieces of her, scattered reminders he couldn’t bear to see right now. a sweater still draped over his armchair. little notes she’d left him during the tour, folded scraps of her handwriting. even the faint smell of her perfume clinging to the blankets. no, he couldn’t face that.

he tilted his head back, gazing into the overcast sky. gray clouds swirled above, blurring the line between evening and night. he sniffled, noticing a modest inn just down the street, its sign hanging askew, light dimly flickering. it wasn’t much—a little rundown, with the look of a place that had seen better days. perfectly unremarkable. and right now, all he needed was a bed.

inside the hotel room, he dropped his backpack onto the chair and stood there, staring at the neatly made bed, the cheap, plush white blankets tucked in tight. the silence pressed in on him, too thick and heavy. without much thought, he shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes, and sank into the mattress, the springs squeaking under his weight. sleep embraced him like a reluctant lover, drifting in after nearly an hour of restless thoughts. but it didn’t stay. he awoke after just four hours, staring up at the ceiling as moonlight spilled in through the thin curtains, casting faint shadows across the room.

he groaned, reaching under his pillow for his phone, squinting as the screen lit up his face. only the usual notifications—nothing out of the ordinary, but still, he’d hoped. he didn’t know why. YN had been clear. she’d left no room for misinterpretation.

his fingers hesitated, then he opened her contact anyway. the photo still there—the one he’d taken on the tour bus last summer. a blurred shot from above, a silly close-up she’d protested, but they’d both laughed at it, something shared just between the two of them.

he typed the words, fingers slow, deliberate.

i love you.

his heart twisted as he pressed send, watching the message linger for a second before the familiar rejection—not delivered.

still blocked. still gone.

harry let his phone fall onto the mattress, dragging a hand over his face, groaning into the empty room. his chest tightened with frustration, desperation edging close to something frantic. he didn’t want to seem like he was clinging, but this couldn’t be the end, could it?

would it be futile to try again? sure. definitely in vain. he just wanted to give it one more try.

he sat up, slipping his sambas back on, the leather scuffed and worn from tour, loose enough he didn’t bother with the laces. he left the jacket where it lay, grabbed his wallet, and in a few determined strides, pushed himself through the door into the night, unwilling to let go just yet.

the cold bit at harry’s skin the moment he stepped outside, the wind cutting through his thin sweater as he walked down the dimly lit street. he barely noticed the sting. his breath puffed in front of him in small clouds, quickly dissolving into the frosty air. snow had begun to fall again, light flakes swirling under the streetlamps, but he didn’t slow down. each step was deliberate, his sneakers scuffing against the half-melted snow on the pavement, but his mind raced with a dozen unfinished thoughts. he hadn’t even grabbed his coat. he hadn’t thought it through.

he just needed to be close to her again.

the city was quiet, the usual rush dulled by the late hour and the snowfall blanketing everything in a soft silence. as he turned the corner toward her flat, his heart picked up speed, thudding painfully in his chest. her building was just down the road, its familiar outline coming into view. every step toward it felt heavier, each one laced with the weight of the unsaid things between them.

when he reached her street, he stopped for a moment, breath clouding the air in front of him as he tried to steady himself. his eyes scanned the row of cars parked along the curb, and there it was—her car, parked in the same spot it always was, snow gathering over the windshield, the roof, coating it like a layer of frost. the sight of it hit him harder than he expected. It was the last tether to her, something still close, something that made her feel real, just beyond that door.

but he didn’t go to her flat. he didn’t knock on her door. his feet carried him to her car instead, the snow crunching softly under his shoes as he approached. harry paused, standing before the vehicle, his breath hitching in his throat. his fingers hovered at his sides, the air biting into the exposed skin, but he didn’t care. the snow covering the windshield was smooth, untouched, and he stalled for a moment, the night wrapping around him like a blanket of quiet.

this was weird. he knew it was. but he couldn’t stop himself.

slowly, almost hesitantly, harry reached out, his fingertips brushing against the icy layer of snow on the glass. it was cold, stinging his skin as he dragged his fingers across the surface, but he kept going, his touch leaving a thin, delicate trail through the frost. he could feel the slight resistance as he wrote, each stroke of his finger deliberate, like the weight of his feelings pressed into every curve of the letters.

we should talk

the words were simple, almost too simple for everything he wanted to say, but they were enough. enough for a desperate message left on a windshield, at least—all he could offer now, standing out against the stark whiteness of the snow like a whisper in the dark. his hand lingered for a moment, fingers resting against the cold glass as if he could reach through the car, through the frost, and touch her somehow.

he stepped back, breath shaky, eyes fixed on the message he had left behind. the snow continued to fall, light and steady, the flakes already beginning to gather in the grooves of his writing, slowly erasing it even as he stood there. his hands dropped to his sides, curling into fists, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, the cold finally seeping into his bones. he felt exposed out here, vulnerable, like every part of him was on display in the silence of the night.

he also felt like he was doing something illegal.

but still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. he looked up at her flat, the windows dark and still, like nothing inside had changed. for all he knew, she was asleep, completely unaware that he was standing here, just feet away. or maybe she wasn’t. maybe she was lying awake, thinking about him too, wondering what could possibly come next after everything they had been through.

the snowflakes clung to his hair, his clothes, but he didn’t move. he stood there, staring at the message on her windshield, his heart caught between hope and fear.

the words seemed to echo in the quiet, fragile and fleeting, like the snow itself. he didn’t know if she’d see them, or if the snow would bury them by morning, but for now, it was all he had left to say. he turned to walk away, his heart heavy but his resolve set. it was up to her now.

inside her flat, YN lay in bed, the dim glow of her phone the only light cutting through the darkness. she had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, trying to force herself to sleep, but her mind kept circling back to him—harry. the knock at her door earlier had left her rattled, emotions stirring like a storm inside her. she’d shut him out, forced the door between them because it was the only way she knew how to protect herself. but it hadn’t stopped the ache in her chest.

the soft chime of her phone interrupted the silence, a faint buzz. she frowned, lifting it off the pillow beside her. the notification made her heart stutter.

ring doorbell: movement detected.

her stomach dropped. for a moment, she just stared at the screen, unsure of whether to open the app, her fingers hesitating. maybe it was just a stray cat, or the wind shaking the snow loose from the trees. but deep down, she knew. she knew who it would be.

with trembling hands, she tapped the screen, and there he was—harry. standing in the cold by her car, his figure a shadowy outline under the soft glow of the streetlamp. his hands were stuffed into his pockets, his head bowed slightly, his breath visible in the cold air. she watched, her heart pounding in her chest as he lifted a finger to the snow-covered windshield, slowly writing something in the frost. the words began to take shape, and she felt her throat tighten, her pulse quickening.

we should talk.

her heart constricted, emotions warring inside her. he hadn’t disappeared. even after she’d shut the door in his face, he was still here. the sight of him standing there, exposed to the biting cold without even a coat, tugged at something deep inside her—something she had tried to bury the night she walked away.

she swallowed hard, sitting up in bed, her fingers hovering over the phone for a moment longer. she could ignore it, let the snow cover the words he’d written and pretend none of this was happening—a biased fate. but she couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, shoulders slumped, his vulnerability written in the frost as clearly as the message itself.

with a sigh, she swung her legs out of bed and pulled on a hoodie, her mind racing. what was she even going to say to him? she was angry, she was hurt, but she also couldn’t deny the pull he still had on her. the years of love and heartache had tangled them together in a way that was impossible to untangle in one night. and now, he was standing outside her flat, waiting in the cold.

YN slipped on her shoes and grabbed her phone, her heart pounding harder with each step as she made her way to the front door. her fingers shook as she unlocked it, pulling the door open just enough to peek outside, the cold air rushing in.

there he was, standing by her car, his back to her, staring down at the message he had written, threatening to step away. his breath puffed in front of him, his head hung low as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. the sight of him, so lost and alone, tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her chest ache.

“harry,” she called softly, her voice carrying through the quiet night.

he turned slowly, his face pale in the moonlight, eyes wide with surprise. for a second, he just stared at her, as if unsure if she was real or some apparition conjured up by his restless mind.

maybe he got frostbite and this is the last thing he’d see before decaying into the snow, he thought.

but then his expression softened, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, though the tension in his eyes remained.

she stepped out onto the snowy path, the cold biting at her skin as she approached him. “what are you doing here?” her voice was steadier than she felt, but the cracks in her resolve showed through.

“i–” he faltered, glancing down at the words on the windshield, then back up at her. “i’m sorry. i’m not stalker. i just–” he paused, sighing exasperatedly. “m’blocked and had to try.”

her breath caught in her throat, the rawness in his voice unraveling her. she looked down at the words he’d written in the snow, her heart twisting painfully at the sight of them. he was trying, she knew that. but it didn’t make it any easier. her chest tightened, memories of him crashing over her in waves—good ones, bad ones, all tangled together in a mess of emotions she hadn’t quite sorted through. she opened her mouth to speak, but the words jumbled in her mouth, only letting out a delicate, fleeting stutter. she wanted to stay strong, to protect herself, but looking at him now, standing in the freezing night without so much as a coat, the walls she’d built began to crack. “you don’t even have a coat,” she whispered, her voice softer now, laced with concern.

he looked down at himself, almost sheepish, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles. “i didn’t really think.”

her heart ached at the sight of him, so lost, so vulnerable. for all the hurt, for all the walls she’d tried to put up, a part of her still missed him—missed this. missed the sound of his voice, the way he always found his way back to her, even when things seemed broken beyond repair.

before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. “come inside.”

harry blinked, surprised, and for a moment he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. YN stepped aside, opening the door wider, the warmth from inside spilling out into the cold. “you’re freezing, and we need to talk,” she said, more firmly this time, gesturing to her snowy windshield he wrote upon.

he hesitated for a beat, then nodded, shuffling forward. she watched as he walked past her, his footsteps slow and unsure, like he was afraid the invitation might disappear if he moved too quickly. once he was inside, she closed the door behind them, the soft click of the lock somehow louder in the quiet that followed.

the contrast between the freezing air outside and the muted heat inside hit him all at once, his body tensing, unsure if he should relax. the space felt familiar, yet foreign—like stepping into a memory that had shifted in his absence. the soft hum of the radiator, the faint scent of her lavender diffuser, the quiet—all of it made his chest tighten.

he stood by the door, unsure of what to do with himself. his hands hovered at his sides before he stuffed them into his pockets, glancing around.

the apartment was exactly as he remembered, yet somehow smaller, more intimate. her big winter coat was draped over a chair, a half-finished cup of tea sat on the coffee table, and a pile of books lay stacked by the corner of the couch. there were still traces of their life together—small things, like the framed picture on the shelf they made together on a whim—glued seashells and colorful iridescent beads. the frame was still there, but the photo had been replaced, its new image hidden behind a layer of dust. he didn’t know what it was, all he knew is that he didn’t see the familiar photo of them at his mum’s house during christmas.

he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was erased, like a ghost she had swept away in her effort to move forward.

his throat tightened as he took in the subtle changes, the pieces of her life that had moved on without him.

she hadn't moved far from the door, standing with her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes flicking between him and the room, as if she, too, was seeing the space differently now that he was in it again. her silence isn't cold, but it wasn't inviting either. It was careful.

“you can sit." she murmured, nodding toward the couch, her voice steady but distant. "if you want."

harry hesitated, then nodded, slowly making his way to the couch. he moved carefully, as though the wrong movement might shatter the fragile understanding between them. he sat down, feeling the familiar creak of the old cushions beneath him. the last time he'd been here, he hadn't thought twice about dropping onto this couch, sprawled out with her beside him, both of them laughing at something ridiculous. now, every inch of space between them felt heavy.

she moved to the armchair across from him, settling into it with her legs tucked underneath her, but still keeping a distance. she watched him, her gaze cautious, as though waiting for him to explain himself. to fill the silence.

harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came at first. his mind was a blur, his heart pounding louder than the words he wanted to say.

he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since he walked in. she seemed different, but not in a way he could pinpoint. her hair seemed softer, her glasses discarded, left upstairs on the nightstand. she had a new freckle he didn’t notice till now, and it immediately fell into the category of his favorite parts about her. “i don't even know where to start," he finally admitted, his voice low, breaking the stillness.

she didn't respond right away, just looked at him, her expression unreadable. "then why are you here?" she asked softly, her tone not accusing, but raw, like she was trying to understand. "you disappeared and now you’re back with no words.”

his breath caught, and he shook his head quickly, trying to explain. "no, i didn’t–” he paused, sighing, running a hand through his hair. "i didn't just leave like that. you left me, YN. that night, you walked out and–”

"–of course I did," she cut him off, her voice rising slightly. "you didn't give me a choice. i couldn’t recognize you. you relied on blow, harry. it wasn’t just for fun.”

harry flinched at the words, guilt settling like a heavy stone in his chest. he’d seen it happening, but at the time, he couldn't pull himself out of the spiral. "i know i fucked up. but leaving me? blocking me?—" his voice caught, raw emotion surfacing as he gestured helplessly. "y’just just cut me off. i had my slip ups, and i regret it immensely, y’didn’t deserve that. y’promised one more chance, and that i did. you found an old bag and didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

her face hardened, her arms tightening around herself as she shook her head. "i couldn't watch you destroy yourself anymore. that bag wasn't just an accident, h. it was a reminder of everything i’d been fighting to save you from. and you–you didn't see it. all you saw was me leaving, that’s it.”

his heart ached at the truth in her words, the weight of his failures crashing down on him. he ran a hand down his face, pinching his bottom lip, frustration and pain coursing through him. "i cared. god, i cared. but i didn't know how to pull myself out of it. i didn't know how t’fix what i was breaking. ‘nd then you were gone, and i didn't know how to–how t’do it without you."

the silence that followed was heavy, both of them sitting there, lost in the mess of emotions that had been left behind. YN looked away, her jaw clenched, her eyes misting over as she stared at the floor. the tension in the room was suffocating, the distance between them widening, and harry felt himself slipping, like everything he had come here to say was unraveling before he even had the chance.

"i didn't want to hurt you," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "i never wanted to be that person. i’m trying to be better, YN. i’m getting help. i’ve been sober since halloween. m’not perfect, but i’m getting better.”

her gaze flicked back to him, her expression softening just slightly, the anger fading into something quieter, something sadder. "you should have told me," she whispered. "i was supposed to be your person, harry. you shut me out, and I had to pick up your pieces on my own."

he swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening. "i know. and i’m so sorry. for everything. i’m here now because i don't want to lose you. not again."

she didn't respond right away, her eyes searching his face, as if looking for the man she had once loved—the man she wasn't sure still existed. but something in the way she looked at him, the way her guard wavered, told him that part of her still wanted to believe him. still wanted to believe in them. "you’re asking me to trust you again," she said finally, her voice small, barely above a whisper. “i don't know if i can."

“m’not asking for your trust.” his lip quivered, shaking his head as he slipped from the couch onto the carpet. he crawled over to her, sitting on his heels as he hesitantly raised his large, cold hands to her knees.

it felt like a shock, his touch in general and the temperature of his hands. his eyes burrowed into hers, as if silently gauging on whether he was crossing a line.

“i love you. even if y’never want to be my love again. i just want back in. i want to know you’re okay. i want to be able to send you a good morning text, or if you’d like to come to the studio like y’use to.” his voice almost sounded like that of a whimper, a stray tear falling from bloodshot eyes. “i can’t live without even a semblance of you in my life.”

she let out a choked sob, quickly wiping her fallen tears with the back of her hand. “don’t say that, harry.”

he ducked his head, leaning in to catch her averted gaze again. he rubbed small circles into her kneecap with his thumb, his voice cracking. “i don’t mean it a horrible way. yes, i can live.” he sadly chuckled, trying to backtrack how pathetic he must’ve sounded. “it just won’t feel like a life without you in it.”

her hand was hesitant, painfully hesitant as she stretched it out toward harry’s, softly lying it over his. she stared down at his hands, his skin warming just being against her, though his medal rings were still cool to the touch. she traced the veins with a shaky breath, shifting her eyes up his arm, past his shoulder, and finally onto his face. his cheeks were red, glistening in the warm glow of the lamp from his tears. his lips were swollen, hair disheveled and a bit damp from the melted snowflakes. “i want you in my life, too.”

his gaze was unwavering, all he could do was squeeze her knee gently, urging her to continue.

“slowly. friends, just friends. and we can see what happens from there.”

it felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders, a weight that only got heavier after five months.

he wanted to kiss her, tell her how in love with her he was. he wanted to hold her until the sun rose, he wanted to put their stupid christmas photo back into their diy picture frame. he wanted to kiss the ground she walked on and follow her around like a lost puppy. he wanted her to be his again.

but friends? it’s a start. it’s something he could live with. even if all she remained was his friend, he would still thank his lucky starts for her decision to come back.

he couldn’t control his tears at that point, moving his hands from her knees to loop his arms around in a makeshift hug around her legs.

it reminded him of the time he had begged her to stay.

but this time he wasn’t begging, he was thankful.

he nestled his head between her thighs as his shoulders shook from his sobs. she combed her fingers through his hair, softly shushing him and reminding him it’ll be okay.

her pink silk pajama bottoms dampened from his sorrow, a messy mixture of his tears, snot and saliva staining the fabric as he let out his loud whimpers, but she didn’t mind. her fingers fell from his curls onto his back, tracing soft circles into the trembling muscles.

his raw, unguarded grief tore her heart in two, each shuddering sob a reminder of the man she loved, a man who was struggling to rise from the ruin he’d left in his wake. and in the quiet of the room, as his sobs filled the space, she realized his tears, painful as they were—were stitching back together the shredded pieces of her heart.

he’s healing. he’s sober. he’s alive.

and that was enough.

[coucouatoi]

take it as a compliment | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Warnings: smoking, swearing, light angst, making out

A/N: Got a request for Outgoing Harry/Shy reader and then this happened. I'm actually so in love with this so I hope y'all enjoy :)

Summary: Your band is out of a main singer after a petty feud. The hunt for someone new is pure torture, not a single audition has peaked your interests. None until he walked in.

"Next!!" your band's drummer, Maeve, exclaims with an exasperated tone. The person who was auditioning scurries off the small stage, too embarrassed to say goodbye. They were the 10th person to audition today. Ten people have gone on stage and tried to show off their singing skills but no one has been even remotely close to good. You're starting to suspect that all of these people are pranking you. There's no way that this many people are tone-deaf... Right?

You look back up when you see someone new walking on stage. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see who's next to audition. Harry Styles, the myth, the legend. He's a star member of the swimming team, captain of the rugby team, honorary member of the debate team and the most sought-after guy at your university. He is probably the last person you expected to show up for your band's audition... You don't even know if he can sing.

"This is going to be hilariously, so happy we are filming" Riu, your band's bassist, chuckles under his breath. You shrug with a small smirk, guess he wants to join today's humiliating compilation of failed auditions.

"Hello everyone, I'm Harry Styles auditioning for lead singer? I guess" he laughs at himself, now this is something you've never seen... a nervous Harry? Could this be an act??

"Don't sound too excited now" Maeve rolls her eyes, "What are you going to sing?" she clicks her pen ready to write the title down.

"October by Broken Bells" he speaks more confidently into the mic now. Your eyebrows raise, shocked. You would have expected something a little more mainstream maybe something currently in the top 10 chart or even an old classic. Riu presses the record button on his camera and rearranges the tripod to better capture Harry.

"Whenever you're ready," You say softly as you hope for the best, your behind is really starting to hurt after sitting for so long hopefully you can leave the auditorium soon.

The man onstage takes a deep breath before pressing play on the acoustic track on his phone.

Soft guitar strings start playing and only a few seconds in Harry starts harmonising with the instrument before the lyrics come in. And when they do... Your jaw hits the floor. The voice that comes out of his mouth would have been impossible to imagine. It's not a very vocally powerful song but requires a certain knowledge of music to get it right. He sounds beautiful and enchanting.

Riu, who's sitting next to you, shakes your arm making you turn your head to him. He mouths "What the fuck?" and you only nod as an answer completely bewildered.

He doesn't move around the stage or anything, just stands in the same spot and sings. Sings better than anyone you've heard today. Better than your past lead singer you're sure. His eyes are shut in what you have to assume is concentration but he could just be too nervous to look at you and your bandmates. His dark hair is pushed back out of his face letting you see his features, his furrowed brows and the sheen of sweat on the tip of his nose.

The song ends and he finally opens his eyes, gagging your reactions. You make sure that you've closed your mouth not wanting one of the first times he really looks at you for your mouth to be wide open...

"Do you write your own songs?" Maeve breaks the silence.

"I have some written yes" he answers quickly, a small jitter going through his body. Excited that he wasn't immediately shooed off stage.

"Is this a serious audition or are you just joking around?" Riu then asks having had enough of this long and boring day.

"Serious, I love singing" he nods quickly, "And I think I'm pretty good at it" Ah! There's the cocky attitude you've gotten used to from him.

Maeve grabs your arms from across the table tugging you towards her, Riu in the middle simply lowers his head closer to hear what's about to be said.

"What do you think?" She asks looking deeply into your eyes. You nod before answering already conveying your approval.

"He's really good guys, winning the UK universities competition good" You definitely see him adding a lot to your group. He's got the charms, the voice and the confidence to get you all the way to the finals.

"We're really accepting Harry Styles into our band?" Riu sounds annoyed but you know that he approves of this choice too...

Here goes nothing.

-

It's officially been two weeks since Harry has become your lead singer and he has not been on time for any of your practices. He's always got some elaborate excuse explaining his tardiness. More often than not he demands multiple breaks to go out for a smoke "Helps the vocals ya know?" he laughs before leaving the room. Maeve is one hair off of kicking him straight out but you've unfortunately entered his name down for the UK competition... and Harry knows this. Both of your other members have tried to reason with him, without success so they've told you that it's your turn to try, and try you will.

There's one hour left and Harry is out on another smoking break you choose this time to go out and attempt to talk to him. You haven't had many one-on-one conversations with him since him joining you. You're still intimidated by his status, his popularity, his reputation, his looks...

After leaving your guitar behind, you head out to find him leaning against the brick wall of your school, his head is tipped up and cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. You take a deep breath before walking up to him, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation.

"Is it your turn to tell me about the importance of punctuality, darling?" his lips form into a smirk as he hears your thick heels crunch the gravel as you move towards him.

"I guess so, the other two didn't work" you shrug leaning on the wall next to him. "Why did you audition if you don't care?" you ask him in a hushed tone, still surprised you have to have a conversation like this with him.

You don't see it but Harry's body tenses. Guilt flows through his veins and he looks at you but you're looking at the ground.

"I do care" is what he answers.

"I'm sorry but I don't believe you" You shake your head and finally meet his gaze, "Are you late for any other extracurricular activity you're part of?" your tone is unbothered but Harry feels it sting him, as if you insulted him... maybe you did. He thinks about it and... well he's not. He prides himself on being a stellar member of everything he's a part of.

"Why don't you treat us like equals? We are all part of the same team here" you add with a tilt of your head actually curious for an answer.

"I... Look, our other two members treat me like I'm lower because of how I act and who I'm friends with" he plucks the cigarette out of his mouth and stomps it under his shoe. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs, "I've gathered that you're the reserved quiet type but not one of you has tried to get to know me, why should I make an effort when none of you want me here?" with how rapidly the words are leaving his mouth you know he's been holding all of this in. You're stunned to silence.

"I don't feel welcomed so I'm not making an effort anymore" he walks away from you and from the building, "I tried to mend the gap by inviting all three of you over to my mates party last week and none of you showed... my message was left on read in the group chat" he looks at you and you don't see any malice or anger just... sadness? Disappointed? You're not sure.

His confession pains your fragile heart. He was trying, he had tried and your bandmates and yourself had only damaged the already non-existent relationship.

"I've never been to a party, I'm not great in crowds" you try explaining, "I barely even make it through our gigs, I'm always the first to go home" Harry nods in understanding, grabbing another cigarette from the packet he has in his pocket and lights it.

"Still could have said something... I know Maeve and Riu hate me so I guess there's not much I can do about that" he shrugs as he takes a drag. He's trying to brush off the emotions he just let himself have in front of you.

"I should have, I'm sorry" you mumble your apology still shocked that you've managed to get this far.

It's quiet for a few minutes. Harry focused on finishing his cigarette, seemingly needing to ease the tension he felt.

"I'll be better about my tardiness," he says after a while. You nod, smiling slightly when he looks over at you.

"Let me know when your next party is, I'll try and go" you offer, a peace offering between you and him. He laughs and shakes his head.

"Sure, darling" he stomps his second cigarette out and walks back over to you "Won't invite those two losers tho" he smirks at you before walking back into the building. You roll your eyes with a laugh and follow him back inside.

-

Harry S

10 Pleasing Road, Tomorrow 9 pm

See you there?

You

What should I wear? Should I bring anything? How many people are going?

Harry S

Whatever you're comfortable in, nope just yourself ;) And about 20 people nothing crazy

You

Okay, see ya

-

Oh god. You have no idea what to wear and you can't possibly ask Maeve or Riu for advice they'd need to know what you're dressing up for. You've been procrastinating your outfit choice all day. Your makeup is done dark and mysterious just how you like, your hair is up and out of your neck predicting that it'll be too warm wherever you're going but you're only wearing underwear... a matching set sure but not an appropriate outfit for a public outing.

You look at the time on your phone and your breath hitches, you're already past your maximum departure time... you're going to be late. This is not good. You contemplate texting Harry and telling him you can't make it but you want to have a better relationship with him you want to make an effort.

You find a long dark red floral dress that you haven't worn in forever and decide that tonight it will stop gathering dust. There is a slight chill in the outside air so you grab the crochet bolero Riu made you for your birthday. It's black with a ladybug charm in the center of it, she lands perfectly in your cleavage. You rush out of your room and out of your shared flat with Maeve before she starts asking questions. You slipped on your go-to heeled boots before running out of the building.

The address Harry sent you is, surprisingly, only a 15-minute walk away from where you live. Keeping a rapid pace is all you're focused on so you can make it with as little delay as you can. Being late gets your anxious gears running like crazy, your internal and external clock always chanting "Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable!". You can thank your mother for that one.

You make it to the one-story townhouse at 9:28, you hear music from the outside and a few cars parked in the driveway and on the sides of the roads.

You breathe in and out deeply as you make your way to the door, calming your heartbeat and yourself. This is your first uni party, the first party that isn't family or Maeve/Riu related. Your first big girl party. It's nerve-wracking but also a little exciting.

As you're about to knock you realize the door is already ajar, you don't overthink it and head inside.

Turns out Harry had been pretty spot on with the number of people at this gathering. Doing a quick scan of the living room, after going through the small entrance, most people are sitting down, drinking and smoking different things. Only a few people look your way but they go back to their original conversations quickly, unbothered by another presence. You spot a table filled with different liquor bottles and mixers and make a beeline for it. Before you start mixing a drink for yourself someone calls out your name.

"You made it!" you turn your head and spot Harry making his way towards you. He's all smiles and bright eyes, he's got a beer in his hand and a cigarette in the other.

"I did, sorry I'm late" you grimace thinking about it again.

"Pff, no one's on time at a party" he waves it off before taking a drag, he blows it out away from your face and looks down at the empty cup in your hand.

"Why isn't there a drink in your hand, darling?" he asks you in mock shock. You shrug and gesture to the table, "I don't know what to make"

He nods and asks for your go-to spirit. Once you tell him he starts making a mix, only using the one liquor, finishing it off with a scoop of ice and a straw.

"Voila!" he winks as he hands you the now full cup. You take a sip and hum appreciatively.

"This is really good thank you" you smile in gratitude. Any worries that have been clawing at you since the moment you accepted to come are slowly disappearing. Harry seems genuinely pleased that you've shown up and that makes the overwhelming feeling large crowds give you dissipate. You should be able to stay like this for a while now.

"You look really nice, darling, I love your style" he lifts himself onto a stool, carefully not to spill his drink or drop his cigarette.

You can feel heat crawl up your neck and onto your face, not used to getting compliments. It's not that you haven't dated or hooked up with people but it's not something that just happens. Flirting requires a lot of energy from you, you're quick to feel embarrassed and shut yourself out just to process it all. Not that you think Harry is flirting or trying to get with you, he's just a socialite who's not shy to say what he's thinking.

"Just threw on whatever" you shrug avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sure that's an understatement but nonetheless you look gorgeous" he winks as he takes one last long drag before putting out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him and then throwing it into a trash can.

He's quite captivating to watch; his eyes are dark, an attractive smirk is always present, and wavy hair moves around with him and his tattoos. God his tattoos! You knew he had loads just by having seen his arms but now his button-down is pretty much unbuttoned at this point. You see many more that you never knew existed and it's only making him more handsome. The butterfly on his sternum, the two swallows beneath his collarbones, the fern leaves peeking out of his jeans; a very dangerous and tempting combination. You'll let your imagination run wild later...

"Mh, so um what does one usually do at a party?" Ah yes, a very natural change in conversation! You go Y/N, you mentally mock yourself with a subtle shake of your head. Harry doesn't seem to mind the switch or notice your mental scolding because he answers truthfully.

"Depends what you're up to doing honestly, I know someone has weed somewhere so you can join the stoners..." you shake your head, not your vibe. "You can dance in the basement that's where the music is playing and people are grinding" You shrug at that option not completely opposed to it. "Or you could go in the yard and join one of the many drinking games happening" That is a good option for later in the evening.

"Take me dancing?" your voice is a little high pitched, not completely confident in yourself but you want to make the most of this. It's not every day you'll be doing this kind of thing.

Harry doesn't answer verbally but he does grab your hand and guides you. His grip isn't tight you could easily free yourself if you wanted to but you want to make it to the dance floor... and holding Harry's hand is quite pleasant.

As he had previously said, the dancing is happening in the basement. This is where you realize Harry is probably the worst counter you've ever met because in this room alone there are at least 30 more people. The space is huge and open; no walls just another makeshift bar, large speakers, some funky lighting and some overused-looking sofas.

Feeling brave you pull Harry towards the other people dancing, and he follows with no hesitation. The beat of the pop song is good and gets your hips moving quickly, you'll never admit it but cheesy pop music is your guilty pleasure. Harry quickly matches your moves, smiling as you dance together he almost looks surprised that you're doing this with him. When you realize you haven't let go of his hand you quickly spin away in a somewhat casual attempt to free yourself, not that the handholding was bad. You just don't want to make him uncomfortable or maybe get anyone he's into at this party to think he's unavailable. The thought of him leaving you right now does make your skin crawl but you focus on dancing back towards him to finish your super duper casual and unnoticed freeing.

"You're a natural, who knows under all that eyeliner and glitter you liked bubblegum pop" Harry jokes as you get close to him again. You laugh and shake your head.

"It's all a distraction, Styles, I'm good at distractions" You wave your hands in front of his face with a spooky witch tone of voice.

"I don't doubt that..." he grabs your hand again and pulls you close to him, careful not to spill either of your drinks.

You feel the heat of his palm travel all the way up your arm and down the other. He's now deliberately taken your hand twice. Twice in the same hour. Hell in the same 5 minutes! God, he's so intoxicating. Your friends would not approve of the thoughts you're having. Riu would scream bloody murder and Maeve... Maeve would never look at you in the eyes again.

You chug the remainder of your drink and toss your empty cup onto a nearby table, you mentally apologize to the person who will pick that up later. Harry follows your lead and places his now free hand on your waist pulling you even closer to him.

"What do you think of the party so far?" he leans into your space even more, softly asking his question right next to your ear. You hum first as you angle yourself towards his own ear to answer.

"Not as crazy as I've seen them in movies or TV shows... but I think I watch too much American television" You laugh at yourself but you quickly still when you feel Harry's lips touch your ear.

"What? You're missing some cheesy games and making out with strangers" he teases you, tightening his hand grip on your waist.

"Something like that yeah, ha" Your breath is quick and uncertain. Overthinking how you're even supposed to breathe normally because you know Harry hears and feels your every breath.

"Mh, let me satisfy your wishes then" he pulls back and winks. "Hey!", he exclaims, "Anyone wanna play truth or dare?" at his question many people cheer affirmatively and he drags you towards one of the couches where everyone else follows suit.

The couch you're now sitting on has obviously been occupied by many other butts and now your own but you try to get that thought out of your head.

"You go first Haz, you initiated" you hear someone with a thick accent say.

"Fine, fine... who wants to ask me?"Harry playfully rolls his eyes as he leans back, his arms splayed across the top of the couch.

"Truth or dare?" someone new calls out.

"Truth let's keep it tame for now" he answers the crowd. You hear some people whisper to each other, debating what question they should ask now that they have free will.

"Did you actually fuck Olivia Flores while she was dating your mate Niall?" a high-pitched voice calls out. Harry rolls his eyes and breathes out deeply.

This rumour had spread all over the school through all clicks and social groups. Olivia was the most beloved student you could think of. She loves speaking with anyone and everyone, she volunteers every other day, and she's never in a bad mood or at least never lets anyone see if she is. The only time that you've ever seen her smile gone was when the rumours started. When everyone was whispering about her cheating on her boyfriend with his best friend. Niall is basically the embodiment of a golden retriever and people took the news of him being cheated on very badly. She denied it endlessly and tried to get people back on her side because her friends ended up turning on her. Harry and Niall both denied the rumours but there was no stopping everyone else from saying what they wanted. Especially after their break up and her decision to switch schools...

"I've said it a million times before, no. Never. I never have and never will because I know how much they still care for each other" he clicks his tongue at the end, annoyed at the question.

Some questions still cross your mind but you decide that his answer is enough. You choose to believe all three of them in this, that their denial is truthful and that Niall and Olivia breaking up after had nothing to do with the rumours.

"Y/N, in honour of your request, truth of dare?" Harry brings your thoughts back to the present, where everyone is now looking at you... analyzing. These people don't know you so you let them watch you even if it makes your skin crawl.

"Dare" might as well go past your boundaries even more. You're getting to know a whole new you tonight, it's exciting.

"Kiss me" he murmurs close to your ear, having leaned into your space. You chuckle pushing him away playfully.

"Come on! Be serious this is my first party game!" you poke his chest with your nail and squint your eyes. He can't just tease you like that! Pfff.

"Serious? You don't think I'm serious" he tilts his head to the side. His expression is unreadable and it makes you question whether he's being a goof right now or if he really wants to kiss you. Why would he want to kiss you out of anyone here?

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you. He looks shocked for a moment before letting a breath out, it almost sounds disappointed... can air sound a certain way? You're definitely overthinking this.

"A real dare please!" you squint your eyes at him in a playful manner. He shakes his head at you with a crooked smile, he's bewildered but you don't know that. You don't know how much he yearns for you right now. How much you attract him or how much it means to him that you're trying. Really trying to know him and make him your friend.

"Fine, I'll settle for the cheek" he winks and points to his right cheek which is inches away from your face.

You assess his expression, he's smirking again obviously happy that his teasing is affecting you. Ever so slightly furrowing his brows in worry that you'll reject that too. So. In honour of your first-ever big girl party, you do it. You kiss his cheek and you play dirty a little bit. Pressing your lips right to the corner of his lips. Right where they merge into the skin of his face.

"There! Now who's next?" you exclaim excitedly turning back to the group of people. A girl you don't know raises her hand and you dare her to do a shot of her least favourite alcohol. She walks off in search of it and your head is turned back towards Harry by a gentle hold on your chin.

"You're such a tease, gorgeous" his voice is soft but rugged almost sounding bothered by something... by someone?

"How so?" your lips form a small smile as you take a sip of your beer, you're conveniently sat next to a cooler full of them.

"You're irresistible" he replies with dark eyes, the hand on your chin moves to your cheek. The tips of his fingers tangling in your hair almost scratching at your scalp.

You don't completely understand how he's saying that about you when he looks the way he does. His hair is falling gorgeously onto his face as he looks at you, his eyes are dark and inviting, lips parted and numerous tattoos still on display.

"What are you going to do about it?" Wow! You're feeling brave tonight good on you! It might be the drinks you've been working at starting to make the anxiety you previously had melt away. Making the nerves calm and the fear of embarrassing yourself much less important.

"What do you want me to do about it?" his lips brush your own as he whispers his answer. You hadn't realized how close you'd gotten to each other; your chest is pressed to his, thighs seemingly glued together at the side, hands holding onto whatever part that isn't yet connected...

Before you can answer and quite possibly take him up on his first dare, your phone rings in your lap. You jump in surprise but Harry's strong yet gentle hold on you doesn't waver, he keeps you close to him. You glance down at the screen and see that Riu is calling you, the terrible selfie he took for his contact picture staring back at you. He has the habit of "stalking" you and Maeve on the Snapchat map, he says it's to make sure you're all in your usual spots. And... well... right now you're definitely not in one of your usual spots.

"Are you going to answer?" Harry asks with a slightly annoyed tone. You look at him again breaking eye contact with Riu's picture. You shake your head and take a deep breath, encouraging yourself. Harry's eyebrow raises in confusion but before anything else can be said you surge forward. You connect your lips to his desperately, forgetting everything else around you.

Harry's hand, the one that was on your cheek, reaches to the back of your head and pulls you closer. Deepening the kiss more than you thought possible. His other hand wraps around your waist and pushes you forward making your chest completely stuck to his. Your hands busy themselves as well, your right one tangles into his curls and your left grabs onto his forearm almost in an attempt to brace yourself. His tongue meets yours making you moan in pleasure. Who knew making out with someone could feel so good?

Harry doesn't stop, not for one second, as if he'd been wishing to do this for a while. He has but you obviously don't know that. He's been interested since his audition, he had seen your band before but never interacted. He always thought you were gorgeous but never had a chance to see if there could be any chemistry between you both. And now? Lord.

Someone around you hollers and it snaps you out of the bubble that surrounds both of you. You jerk away from Harry putting as much distance between you as you're able to on the otherwise cramped sofa.

"You two better go off to somewhere more private before we all need to bleach our eyeballs" The person sitting next to Harry laughs as he nudges him on the arm, shaking both of your bodies against each other. Harry shakes his head and playfully punches the person but you stare at him shocked. Shocked that you were just fully making out with him, shocked that he wanted to make out with you... Shocked that you're kind of wishing it kept going.

When Harry's head turns back towards you, you can't help but meet his gaze. Your own eyes are wide and just now getting back to focus, they had gone hazy with want but you won't admit that to yourself just yet.

"Let me walk you home? I know you have an exam first thing in the morning tomorrow" He asks sincerely, wanting to make sure you don't miss any essential studying you might want to do.

"Um, sure, a party on Wednesday is weird..." You shake your head in thought now just realising that you had completely forgotten about the test.

"Makes hump day less humpy I guess" he shrugs with a teasing smile before standing and helping you up off the sofa.

The walk back to your flat is entertaining. You get to know your new bandmate even more, truly getting to know him as a person. You share about yourself as well not wanting the conversation to seem one-sided. Turns out drinking a little alcohol makes you chatty.

Somehow, your left hand has interlocked with Harry's right one. How and when this happened you're not sure all you know is that you've had a painfully obvious blush on your face and neck ever since. You don't attempt to break the hold because... well... you really don't want to.

"Well, this is me" You turn to face Harry as you speak. You gesture to your complex vaguely still wanting to talk with him.

"Mh, quaint," he says without even looking at the building.

"Guess this is goodnight then" Your lips form into a small pout, disappointed that you have no real excuse to stay around Harry anymore.

"Guess so... I'll see you at practice tomorrow?" his hand tugs you towards him gently, leaving only inches between you. You bite your lip and nod as an answer all words having vanished from your mind. He smirks and bends down to press his lips on yours one more time. This kiss is much different than the one you previously shared, this one is only a short peck barely even qualifies as a kiss. You instinctively follow when he parts from you desperate for a real kiss.

"What's wrong pretty?" he's teasing you and you know it.

"Kiss me properly... leave me regretting coming back home to study instead of staying at yours" There's a sentence you never imagined yourself saying. You're feeling like a completely new you. Maybe it's the liquor in your system but Harry stops the nerves and the overthinking that's always going on in your head. He feels like a breath of fresh air and that is so fucking hot.

Harry doesn't hesitate to reconnect your lips again for a real kiss. He bites and drags your bottom lip towards him you moan at the feeling, quickly wrapping your arms around him to deepen the contact. Your tongue meets his between your mouths, it's not a battle, feels like they've been waiting to reconnect since they parted ways at the party.

"You're so hot Y/N" Harry practically moans out before slamming his lips back against yours.

Kissing someone has truly never felt this good.

-

The exam you only spent about 45 minutes studying for ended up being a total breeze as it was open book. Your nerves had immediately vanished when you'd stepped into the auditorium and read that on the board. But now your nerves are back up as your final period is about to end. Band practice is after this. You'll have to face Harry in front of both of your other friends... who have no idea that you've made out with the new member... twice.

Harry hasn't stopped messaging you all day thanking you for giving him a chance again and asking if he could take you out after practice. You haven't answered yet, every time you try to write one up your fingers word vomit and you end up deleting your drafts. You want to say yes to him but you feel like you might be braver telling him face to face.

When you hear your professor announce that he's dismissing you early you practically jump out of your seat. This could be the perfect opportunity to go see Harry early. He's been done with class for about an hour now and is already at the auditorium waiting so you rush over. You don't take the time to put away your pencil case or your notebook, keeping them in your hands as you make your way.

"Hope you haven't been ghosting me, sweetheart" Harry calls out immediately as you walk into the auditorium. He's lying down on the edge of the stage, a leg hanging off the side with his phone in hand above his head. He doesn't turn to look at you but you can't blame him so you're quick to walk to him ready to explain yourself.

"I wasn't I swear! I just kept overthinking my answers... thought I'd have an easier time answering in person" you tell him as you put down your things on one of the seats.

"Understandable, things can be more complicated to convey through a screen" his answer lifts a weight off of your shoulders. You were so worried he wouldn't understand.

"So, I'm glad you gave me a chance to get to know you" you start, "I know we weren't very welcoming and I'm sorry" You tentatively place your hand on Harry's chest, between both of his pecks.

"It's okay gorgeous, I know it's cause you were just so intimidated by my hot bod" he lightens the mood with his joke and you're so grateful.

"Mh, sure" you tease him with a shake of your head.

He gasps in mock offence batting your hand away from his chest. You laugh at his antics,

already thinking up your next answer. Harry doesn't let the hand that was on him go far grabbing it and tugging you closer to him.

"As for your other texts... I'd really like to go out with you later tonight" Your voice turns very weak at the end of your sentence, shyness taking over. Harry chuckles and tugs you to him again.

"You're so cute, darling" he smiles softly, "I'm glad I didn't scare you off" his free hand reaches out and wraps around your neck to cup your nape. He pulls your face down to his kissing your lips, once, twice, thrice...

"Riu and Maeve are going to be so confused when I tell them" you chuckle. Your friends might actually faint when you tell them you're going on a date with the Harry Styles.

"Let's just let them walk in while we kiss, easy way to announce it," he says with a wink. You smile and bend back down to lock lips... addicted to the way he feels.

"Or, you could write a song about how good kissing me is" you joke as you whip your hair backwards in an attempt to joke. Harry, however, takes your suggestion seriously.

"I've already got five written in my head, six if you kiss me again right now" And who are you to deny helping his creative juices?

You do end up shocking Maeve and Riu with your "very inappropriate spit swapping" Maeve's words, not yours.

[eveningepiphany]

tease | H.S oneshot

summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing

a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!

———

Some days at work are harder than others for you.

Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.

And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.

But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.

It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.

“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.

Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.

You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.

“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”

Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.

“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.

“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.

You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.

“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”

“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”

And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.

He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.

As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.

Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…

His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.

Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.

You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”

Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”

You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.

You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.

“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.

“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.

“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.

She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.

You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.

“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”

She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”

You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”

You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.

“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.

In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.

You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.

Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.

He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.

You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.

Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.

You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.

Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.

You smile at yourself and at your work.

And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.

Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.

And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.

You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.

He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.

He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…

Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.

Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.

You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.

You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.

Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.

Just not aware you’re one of them…

Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.

After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.

Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.

The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.

It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?

Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.

You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.

Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.

You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?

He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.

“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.

He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.

“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.

So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.

“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.

Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.

You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”

You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.

He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.

You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.

You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?

“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.

“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.

“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.

Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.

You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.

“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.

He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.

“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”

“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.

“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.

“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.

You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.

You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”

“Very…?”

“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.

“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.

“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.

You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.

“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.

“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.

“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.

“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.

“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.

You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.

“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.

“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.

“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.

I didn’t work.

“So everyone including you?” He asked.

“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.

“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.

“Had you a little worked up, did I?”

“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.

“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.

“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.

Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.

“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”

He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.

“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.

“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.

“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”

Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.

“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”

“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”

He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.

“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”

“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.

He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”

“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.

“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.

Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.

You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.

“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.

He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.

He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.

“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.

His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.

“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.

He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.

He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”

You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.

“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.

You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”

He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.

“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”

You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.

He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”

“Too long.” You whimper.

His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.

You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.

“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”

“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.

You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole

He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.

Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.

“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.

“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”

“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.

Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.

“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.

“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.

He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.

The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.

Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.

“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.

He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.

He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”

It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.

He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.

It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.

He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.

Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.

You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”

“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.

“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.

It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.

You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.

You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.

All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.

That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.

His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.

“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”

You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.

And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.

His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.

“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.

“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”

“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.

“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”

You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.

“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.

“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.

And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.

———

[lukesaprince]

The Complicated Freak Series H.S

*this is for aesthetics only, this does not necessarily represent the body type or skin colour of the mc. Please imagine whoever you like!*

Synopsis: 

Best Friend's Dad Trope. After your best friend's parents divorce, you find yourself being the confidant and stress relief of your best friend's dad. He's double your age, rich and mean in bed. But when feelings get involved and it turns into something much more than a cruel hookup, the pair see how complicated life can really be.

Warnings: This is an agegap romance, if you don’t like it don’t read it. MC is 21ish and H is 40ish. Other warnings include smut that features dirty talk, choking, spanking, and a major breeding kink. Specific warnings will be written at the start of each part.

Masterlist:

Part 1 Where you’ve been hooking up with your best friend’s dad and decide to tease him with a tiny bikini.

Part 2 Once night comes and Darcy falls asleep, y/n is finally able to sneak into Harry's room for a round 2

Part 3 When Darcy goes away for a spa retreat, Harry invites y/n over. After a very awkward phone call, there's a lot of tension to resolve.

Part 4 Harry takes y/n for a ride while Darcy's away and a near miss causes unforeseen tensions.

Part 5 Where y/n wants Harry to be mean to her and the couple finally tell Darcy the truth.

Part 6 The aftermath of telling Darcy the truth is devastating. Relationships are tested and Harry and y/n must progress theirs in a way neither expected.

With A Sea View - A Complicated Freak Extra When the yearly yacht trip to the Italian coast takes place, Harry and y/n can’t help but try and rise jealousy out of each other… OR a quickie in the bridge of Harry’s yacht

Wrong - A Complicated Freak Extra When y/n comes over to see Darcy and she isn't there, Harry invites her to stay for dinner... one thing leads to another and they're both naked on the couch questioning how they could betray the people they care for the most. OR Cfrry and y/n's first time.

Kinktober #6 - I Own You Trying to make Harry jealous at the annual Styles Halloween party has dire consequences. OR Harry punishes y/n out of jealousy

[harryssyndrome]

Manic (pt.2) | h.s

ᯓ ✈︎ part one || Masterlist

Sorry it’s short but i was busy being lazy lol and well I’m planning something bigger so bare with me.

Posted on: November 19th, 2024

YN’s days began to blur into one another, each moment consumed by her obsession with Harry. Every notification, every message from him felt like another piece of a dream she never wanted to wake up from. Her friends commented on how lucky she was, how surreal her life had become, but none of them truly understood. They didn’t know how much this connection meant to her.

It was no longer about being a fan. This was personal.

Harry’s messages grew more frequent, more intense. His compliments became laced with something deeper, something that felt like longing. YN found herself replaying every word in her mind, dissecting the meaning, trying to understand him. She didn’t dare question why he had noticed her out of all the fans in the world. It didn’t matter. He had chosen her, and that was enough.

But even in her bliss, there was a shadow.

Harry sat in the dim light of his living room, his phone in hand, the screen glowing faintly in the dark. He scrolled through YN’s social media again, his eyes scanning every photo, every caption, every detail. He had memorized her routines, her likes, her quirks. He knew what she ordered at her favorite café, the books she loved to read, the way she smiled when she thought no one was watching.

But Harry was watching.

Every word he sent her was carefully crafted, calculated to pull her deeper into his world. He knew exactly how to compliment her, how to make her feel seen. He played the part of the dream, the fantasy she had built in her mind. But beneath the surface, his thoughts were anything but kind.

She was his now.

It wasn’t enough to be admired. He needed more. He needed control.

He leaned back, a sinister smile playing on his lips as he typed his next message.

YN’s phone buzzed, pulling her attention from the book she was pretending to read. Her heart leapt when she saw his name.

“I can’t stop thinking about your voice. Sing for me again, YN.”

She blinked, her fingers tightening around the phone. He wanted her to sing. For him.

Her hands trembled as she opened her camera app, her heart pounding in her chest. She set up her phone, angling it just right before taking a deep breath. She picked one of his songs, one she knew by heart, and began to sing.

Her voice was shaky at first, but as the melody carried her, she poured everything she had into the performance. She closed her eyes, imagining him on the other side of the screen, watching her, listening to her.

When she finished, she uploaded the video and sent it to him, her stomach flipping with nerves.

The response came almost immediately.

“Perfect. You’re perfect, YN.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her face flushing with warmth.

But as she stared at his words, that lingering unease crept back in. Something about the way he said it—it was too intense, too certain. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. This was Harry Styles. He wasn’t like anyone else.

Harry watched the video again, his jaw tightening as a dark satisfaction settled over him. She was performing for him now. Every note, every glance, every movement was for him.

He leaned forward, his mind racing. This wasn’t enough. He needed to take the next step.

He knew where she lived. He had already been inside her space, breathed her air, felt her presence. But it wasn’t enough to just watch her.

He wanted to shape her.

That night, YN fell asleep with her phone by her side, Harry’s messages still glowing on the screen. Her dreams were filled with him, his voice, his touch. She imagined what it would be like to meet him, to feel his hands on hers, to hear him whisper her name.

But in the shadows of her room, something stirred.

Harry was back.

The window he had left unlocked during his last visit slid open with ease. He moved silently, his footsteps light as he entered her sanctuary once more.

Her scent hit him immediately, intoxicating and familiar. He stood by her bedside, his eyes trailing over her sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her face peaceful in the dim light.

He reached out, his fingers hovering just above her cheek. He wanted to touch her, to feel her warmth. But he hesitated. Not yet. He couldn’t risk waking her.

Instead, he leaned closer, his lips inches from her ear.

“Soon, YN,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before retreating into the night.

When YN woke the next morning, she felt it again—that strange heaviness, the sense that something was wrong. She glanced at her window and frowned. It was slightly ajar.

Her heart skipped a beat as she sat up, staring at it. Had she left it open? She didn’t think so.

Shaking her head, she climbed out of bed and shut it firmly, her hands trembling.

It was just a coincidence, she told herself. Nothing more.

But as she turned back to her room, her eyes caught something on her desk that made her freeze.

It was her perfume bottle, placed neatly in the center of the desk.

She hadn’t used it in weeks.

Her pulse quickened as she stared at it, her mind racing. Had she moved it? Was this another coincidence?

She grabbed her phone, desperate for a distraction. There was a new message from Harry.

“Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”

Her heart fluttered, the unease fading as quickly as it had come.

“Yes,” she typed back. “I dreamed of you.”

The response came instantly.

“Good. Soon, we won’t need dreams.”

YN smiled, her fingers brushing over the screen.

She didn’t notice the faint indentation on the edge of her bed, the subtle sign that someone had been sitting there. Watching. Waiting.

The game was only the beginning.

[cherrycheridarling]

cherry | h.s.

harry styles x famous!reader

warnings: sad? it's a rollercoaster

summary: how 'cherry' came to be

wc: 2.5k

a/n: can be read w/ baby or on its own

are we rlly surprised abt this? look at my user;)

'Don't you call him baby.'

Harry sat on his plush couch, telly on volume 11 as interviews from The Emmys went live.

"Here we have Y/N Y/L/N! Looking as gorgeous as ever! How are you?" the man asked as he kissed both of your cheeks.

Harry had to agree with the man. You were a stunning picture in a skintight iridescent gown that somehow left little and just enough to the imagination at the same time. The dainty silver accents adorning your ears and wrists, chest bare with a slight shimmer of something that wasn't sweat or glitter, but just pure radiance in Harry's eyes.

You adjusted your stance before answering, "Good, good. And yourself?"

"Fantastic! I hear you're nominated for three awards tonight! Congratulations! How do you feel about all of that?" Harry wasn't surprised by your achievements seeing as he kept his tabs on you ever since the breakup.

You nodded with a timid smile, "I am, yes. It's all a little nerve wracking if I'm being honest with you."

The man grinned before it looked like his attention had been stolen by someone else, "Oh look, there we have your knight in shining armour!"

The camera panned to Tom Holland walking in your direction. Harry forced himself to watch as Tom came to stand beside you and kissed your cheek with an arm around your waist. Even with the microphone being unable to pick up your voices, your small interaction could be read off your lips.

"Hello, darling." Tom's lips moved as he winked.

"Hi, baby." your smile was warm as you spoke.

Harry abruptly turned off his telly at that moment. Memories of that name being used to address him flooded his brain. He threw his head back against the cushions and let the sting wash over him. It'd been a little less than a year since you guys called it quits, but the wounds still bled.

'We're not talking lately.'

"Do you remember that promise we made?" you asked as Harry rested his forehead against your knees while your fingers ran through his hair.

You felt him nod as a tear rolled down your cheek for the hundredth time. "We'd always stay friends and support each other even if we don't last." he replied from below you on his knees while you were sat on the couch.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Can I adjust that promise?"

His movements seize the second the question left your lips. He lifted his head and met your glossy gaze with an equally bloodshot one.

"What do you mean?" his voice quivered in a way that made your heart shatter.

You slid your thumb along his cheekbone, "We need time apart to move on, ange. No communication while we deal with this. We can still support each other and love each other, but we need space in order to let each other go. Wouldn't you agree?"

Harry pondered on it for a moment before slightly nodding, "I guess so."

Neither of you said a word after that, just continuing to hold each other until the morning light came in and reminded you that everything still moves on even if you haven't.

'Don't you call him what you used to call me.'

July 23rd 2017:

"Baby, can you grab my purse for me, please?" you semi-shouted from the bottom of the stairs in your home.

Not a minute later, Harry came waltzing down towards you, "I wasn't sure which one you wanted today, so I took it upon myself to choose this one." he held up the Prada shoulder purse with a proud smile.

October 17th 2017:

"No." you deadpanned, but at his immediate frown you continued "Baby, I'm not dressing up as a socket so you can be the plug." you laughed incredulously at his suggestion.

Harry threw his hands in the air, "Come on! That would be the best costume ever!"

December 25th 2017:

"Happy Christmas, baby." you smiled at the man on your phone screen.

His lips turned down into a frown that somehow still looked like a smile, "Happy Christmas, darling. Wish we were together today."

January 1st 2018:

"Happy new year!" Harry screamed along with the room before turning to his love, "No one else I'd rather enter the year with." he smiled softly at you before meeting your lips with a kiss.

Confetti fell around you, champagne broke through the cheers with a 'pop' and yet, to you, it was silent, and there was no one there but him.

You broke apart still grinning, "Happy new year, baby."

'I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best. I'm selfish so I'm hating it.'

"And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to...!" Kevin Hart unfolded the envelope and immediately broke into a wide grin, "Y/N Y/L/N!"

The applause was immediate and deafening. You barely registered the first syllable of your name being called as everyone around you began to congratulate you and shower you with hugs.

You slowly made your way to the stage, being careful to not trip. You greeted Kevin with a hug as he handed you the award and your hands shook. As you stood in front of the mic, your mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I-I- what?" you finally managed to sputter out as everyone chuckled.

You managed to get your wits about you and began to give out your thanks, while failing to notice the man in the audience who was holding back tears for you.

Jeff leaned over to Harry, "I know this is tough, but there will be cameras on you. Be careful of your expressions." he whispered as Harry momentarily shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Harry managed to plaster on a faux smile that would fool anyone else except you. He was ashamed of himself; he should be happy for you, he should've been on his feet cheering for you. But he couldn't. He refused to do that from 12 rows away when he should've been sat beside you. The smile on your face, the glow in your skin. All of it was something he hadn't seen since you were together and seeing it now only brought pain and sorrow to him.

He wished he had stayed home, but Jeff had convinced him that moping around in his home was only fuelling the rumours surrounding your break up, so he watched as you took your seat again and only when the next category was being announced did he excuse himself to the washroom and let the tears flow.

'I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress. Take it as a compliment.'

"Darling!" Harry's voice came booming from your temporarily shared home.

You sat on the couch in the living room and threw your head back, "Yes?!"

"Where's your striped jumper?!" he replied from your walk in closet.

You chose not to reply and instead left your seat to see what chaos he had caused. Upon entering your closet, there were piles of clothes on the floor and shoes tossed in every direction.

You chuckled, "What is going on?"

Harry's head snapped towards you, "I have an interview in 30 minutes and I need that jumper. Please, darling, help." he pouted at you.

You laughed a little more before walking out of the closet and pulling the sweater from a chair next to your bed. You cleared your throat while dangling the sweater from your finger and smirked, "Really should wear your glasses more often."

He covered his face with his hands as he realized he made a mess for no reason. As he took the jumper from your hands with a kiss to your lips and a thank you, you spoke again with a smile, "And get your own clothes."

"Why do that when I have you?" he grinned, "And don't touch any of the mess. I will clean it when I get back." his tone was serious but you struggled to hold in your laugh.

"I'll ju-"

"-No. Pinky promise you won't clean any of it." he held out his pinky with a raised brow.

You rolled your eyes before locking your finger with his. "Fine." the metal of the ruby ring on his finger that used to be yours was cold on your skin

He smiled as he kissed the place where your fingers interlocked and dashed out of the room with one last warning, "You pinky promised! No breaking it!"

"I, I just miss. I just miss your accent and your friends."

"Okay, Your Majesty." Harry mocked your RP accent for the thousandth time as you sat at Beachwood Cafe with Mitch, Sarah, Hazel and Max.

You gasped, "Would you stop that?! I do not sound like the Queen."

He was about to argue before Mitch chimed in, "Sorry, Y/L/N, but you kind of do." he giggled as he spoke.

Your jaw dropped as Harry started to laugh, "This is so unfair. I introduced you guys! You were my friends first! You're supposed to be on my side!"

They all started laughing together at your outburst as you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

"Did you know I still talk to them?"

Hazel was escorted to Harry's dressing room before his show in Vancouver while Max was in charge of finding parking.

Since it was her's and Max's hometown, Harry offered them tickets and backstage entry. It took a lot of debating with himself before he sent the text to Hazel, but his reasoning ultimately came down to not wanting to lose two friendships due to one relationship.

She took a moment to pause before knocking, and sighed a little when Harry looked up through the mirror with red, glassy eyes.

"What's going on, H?" she spoke softly as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Harry fully turned his chair around and felt his shoulders deflate, "Just miss her." he rolled his lips in between his teeth as a few tears managed to escape.

Hazel's heart fractured a bit in that moment as her phone started buzzing in her pocket with a call from you, "It's Y/N. Give me a minu-"

"-No. Please. I won't say anything. Can you put it on speaker?" he begged and although Hazel knew it was a bad idea she sighed before answering your call and following his request.

"Hey, Y/N/N!"

"Hi, are you at the show?" your voice ran through the room and Harry subconsciously leaned towards to the phone as if it would bring him closer to you.

Hazel suppressed a sigh from watching Harry before replying, "Yeah! It was really nice of him to invite us. What are you up to?"

"About to catch a flight to LA. Just wanted to make sure you got there safe." you laughed lightly through your lie and Harry's eyes automatically shut, trying to savour the sweet sound.

Hazel could hear your lie in your voice, but chose not to address it, "Yeah, Max is just finding parking right now. Why are you going to LA?"

Harry fought the urge to answer her question, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to know the answer.

You sighed slightly, "House hunting. Can't stay at Harry's anymore, so time to find my own place there."

Hazel nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see her before replying, "Oh. I see. Have you talked to H at all?"

Harry's head snapped up at his name being brought into the conversation.

"No, it's best if I don't." a mans voice was heard in the background before you spoke again, "Well, we're about to take off now. If you see him, wish him luck for me, will you?" your sadness was evident throughout your words.

Harry buried his head in his hands again as more tears escaped while Hazel replied, "Of course. Have a safe flight, Y/N/N. Love you, miss you."

"Thanks, love you and miss you too. Bye!" you blew a kiss into the phone before the dial tone was heard.

And for a moment, with his eyes shut, Harry allowed himself to imagine that those words were meant for his ears only.

"Does he take you walking 'round his parents gallery?"

"Hey, Haz," Tyler spoke up from the silence of the recording studio. They had just finished a long session and the rest of the team had already departed for the night, leaving Harry, Sammy and Tyler. "There's a new gallery opening on Saturday. Only there for a few nights. You wanna come with me and Sammy?"

Harry slowly turned in the spinning chair, "Sure. Whose gallery?" he bit into an apple as he finished speaking.

"Nikki Holland? Don't know who she is, but she's got some sick photos on Instagram." Tyler shrugged not noticing how Harry nearly choked on his fruit.

"Holland? As in Tom Holland's mum? Tom Holland as in Y/N's boyfriend, Tom Holland?" Sammy's eyes widened before he pulled out his own phone and went to Tom's instagram page. And sure enough, there was a post and a story of him promoting his mum's new gallery opening. "Just answered my own question." he rolled his lips between his teeth before chancing a glance at Harry.

Harry stared blankly at the floor before clearing his throat, "Probably not the best idea for me to show up there." he paused at their somber expressions, "Honestly, it's fine." he laughed lightly.

"Nah, we won't go either. Probably start rumours if we-"

"-Wait." Harry abruptly announced before reaching for the acoustic guitar on his left.

Tyler and Sammy shared a concerned expression with one another while Harry nervously fumbled with the strings of the instrument.

"Let me just- I just need to-" he struggled to find the right words to say, but there was no need.

Tyler shook his head and put his phone down, "Let's write it."

'Coucou!'

"Tu dors?" you frowned when your friend answered your call with a groggy voice.

She laughed lightly through the phone, "Oui. J'étais sur le point d'être."

"Oh, j'suis désolée."

She chuckled, "Ne t'en fais pas. Que s'est-il passé? A-t-il fait une demande en mariage?"

You sighed with a smile, thinking back on the day you spent with the lovely man behind you, "Bah non-"

"Je peux entendre le sourire effrayant dans ta voix. Que s'est-il passé?" she cut you off while mocking you.

You laughed loudly, "Nan, c'est pas important."

"Qu'avez-vous fait alors? Êtes-vous allé à la plage?"

You turned to look at Harry as he played a soft melody on a guitar. His eyes looked up to meet yours and he offered you a small grin that you returned, "Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—"

She cut you off again with a loud laugh, "Allons prendre un verre et discuter. J'ai besoin de voir le sourire effrayant en personne."

You couldn't even deny her accusation. You were at the happiest you could be.

'Parfait! Allez!'

[babyyhoneyyyyy]

「✦ 🚨 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 🍷 ✦」 - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: "Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer". Where Lizzie, a devoted homemaker, meets Harry, a police officer in charge of interrogating her after a mysterious fire at her mansion that resulted in the death of her husband. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞 *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A call to 911 is usually more than enough in emergency situations. 

Within minutes, the sound of sirens envelops you, with bright lights in red and blue hues cutting through the space as if they belong to it, receiving professional help from specialized teams while they try to talk to you and understand the situation. But after that, a sense of shock takes over, making you question whether what you're experiencing is part of a third-dimensional movie, distorting your own reality and transporting you to an alternate dimension for the most part.

That's exactly how Lizzie felt after flames consumed a large part of her property. She had sensed the smoke penetrating her nostrils, but what truly disturbed her was the buzz of screams. Cries from a man calling her name that quickly faded into whispers.

Lizzie found herself unable to react in any way other than trying to escape, seeking to reach him and see what was happening. However, the house seemed to be crumbling around her, and eventually, she fainted before reaching the door. That was the only clear memory she retained from that day; everything else started with a distant voice calling her, waking her up to find herself under a white ceiling and the scent of disinfectant.

Her stay in the hospital lasted just a day, more as a precautionary measure than for any injuries, of which, fortunately, she was free. She was in almost perfect condition, something that surprised even the doctors themselves.

But for that reason, when they confirmed her health, they chose to deliver the news to her without any euphemisms.

Contrary to her, her husband wasn't as fortunate. Apparently, the fire originated in his own studio, giving him no chance to escape and consuming him with the flames.

She had become a widow.

Her lawyer presented himself as her main support, assisting her in the necessary procedures to change her documents, update them, and allowing her to handle the move, the funeral, and subsequently, the burial.

Finally, when all that concluded, Lizzie was met with a sigh from her lawyer, who handed her a small envelope. She accepted it, while he observed her for a few more minutes before leaving his office.

A lump tightened Lizzie's throat; anxiety ran through her veins saturating all her senses as her hands trembled slightly when opening the envelope. And suddenly, everything around her seemed to freeze when she saw her name written alongside her original last name, followed by the phrase 'widow of Montecarlo,' and the text culminated with 'an entirety in inheritance'.

Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment. She knew the implications of that, beyond any property, money, jewelry, or cars, beyond any tangible thing she could conceive in her mind. This represented a new beginning, one she hadn't even imagined when she got married at the young age of eighteen.

She swallowed hard as she placed the envelope in the safe and let out a final sigh as she left the office, returning to her room. She walked through various rooms overflowing with classical décor.

Her heels echoed on the wooden floors, allowing their sound to reverberate through the rooms. The house was deserted; her lawyer had already left, and there was no trace of any household staff, as per her own request. She had decided to give them all a break, especially those who had also managed to escape unscathed from the fire in her previous property, which was already under renovation. She had determined that once it was ready, she would put it up for sale immediately. She couldn't bear the idea of walking through that house again.

The last door at the end of the hallway on the second floor housed her bedroom. It was a master bedroom that, at that moment, only contained her belongings still packed in suitcases, lacking any visible decoration.

However, as she approached, the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

Lizzie halted her steps and instinctively checked the delicate diamond watch on her wrist. It was six in the evening, and she hadn't scheduled any visits.

She hesitated for a moment, considering whether to go back to the first floor just to attend to an unexpected visitor, but the doorbell rang again, possibly indicating the urgency of the person. With a sigh, she turned her body and descended the wide stairs leading to the entrance and, finally, to her door.

The doorbell rang once more just as her hand reached for the handle, and she couldn't help but display a slightly annoyed expression when she opened the door, finding a tall man standing in front of her, causing her to pause for a moment.

The individual in question had a distinctive presence, with a young face and well-defined features, and although his hair seemed short, it revealed some curls. However, what unquestionably caught Lizzie's attention the most was his uniform.

It was an official attire consisting of a white shirt, a bulletproof vest with letters marked on the chest, and to add even more, a prominent badge was situated above it.

Lizzie felt her heart start to beat faster and chose not to say anything until the man interpreted it as a signal to introduce himself.

Unlike her furrowed brow, the young man immediately responded with a small smile, revealing dimples on his face. He glanced down for a moment, and Lizzie noticed he held a small notebook in his hands. Then, a husky voice spoke, "Miss Elizabeth?" Lizzie simply nodded. "I'm Harry Styles, the police officer in charge of your case".

The moment these words were spoken, Lizzie felt time speed up. She quickly blinked as she nodded and stepped aside at the door, allowing the man, whom she now identified as Harry, to step onto her property.

When they entered the main room together, she led the way and settled into one of the armchairs, gesturing for the young man to do the same before the door closed behind them. Lizzie avoided looking down to ensure her ring remained on her ring finger. Instead, she kept her gaze forward, watching Harry's subtle movements closely as he settled into the luxurious sofa and casually glanced around.

"Would you like some water?" she suddenly asked, catching him completely off guard. Although she didn't even know where that question came from, realizing that there wouldn't be another offer due to the absence of staff in the house, she thought it would be a kind gesture before they began.

"No, thank you". He finally responded after a moment's thought, grateful but with a half-smile, declining the offer. He had received strict instructions from his boss not to get distracted from his task. This was his first field mission, so he preferred not to mess it up.

"Cookies?"

Once again, his answer was negative, feeling increasingly embarrassed as he saw the woman's expression, who nodded gently and pouted slightly as she resigned herself back to the sofa.

Harry couldn't help but smile, clearing his throat before returning his gaze to the small notebook in his hands.

"Okay, I think we can start now".

The inquiries about that night varied in their formulation, from questions like "What were you doing when you heard the noise?" to "Were you nearby when you noticed the house was on fire?". Each one required an answer that related to and understood the situation.

Lizzie sensed that this was an interrogation aimed at connecting the loose ends, in case they found any evidence against her, so she made an effort to recall the events of that night accurately, inevitably reliving them.

At least an additional hour passed, she noted once again the clock on her wrist, confirming that more time had elapsed and that now only the dim artificial light of the living room illuminated the space. This incident was due to a malfunction, as she hadn't visited this house in many years and it was evident that there were still pending repairs. Despite this, she decided not to mention it to the policeman, preferring him to bring it up or simply ignore it. However, as the conversation became more casual, he didn't mention it.

The questions about the incident of that night gradually faded away, giving way to lighter questions, and it was only then that Lizzie decided to join him.

"Do you have a girl?" The question hung in the air as Harry observed her intently. Lizzie noticed how he ran his tongue over his lips, trying to alleviate the dryness of the conversation, ending with a soft bite on his lower lip before responding.

"No- Uh-" he paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "I've always been very focused on my work, thanks to my parents, so no, I really wouldn't have the time", he expressed, although a slight gesture of frustration crossed his lips before he continued speaking. "I mean, if I were truly interested in someone, I would find the time, but for now, there's no one". He concluded his explanation with a light sigh.

Harry awaited with some tension, anticipating a sarcastic response from Lizzie, considering the twists and turns he had taken to reach his explanation, however, instead of that, he saw her nod with a understanding expression on her face. A comforting relief washed over Harry in that moment, as if Lizzie's silent confirmation somehow validated his words and nerves.

Why did he suddenly feel so nervous?

"May I know the reason for the question?" he inquired after a few moments, waiting for a brief explanation of the young woman's interest, although in reality he showed more curiosity about her response. Harry watched as Lizzie's dark eyes settled on his face once again, subtly descending to his hands, still intertwined in his lap as he leaned slightly towards her. His heart began to beat quickly again as he followed her gaze.

"I don't see a ring on your finger". Lizzie responded with a slight shrug, initially downplaying the question, something that Harry found indecipherable whether he liked it or not.

"Aren't you too young to have been married?" he suddenly asked, on impulse as he tried to delve into the topic, although he almost immediately regretted the inopportune nature of his question.

Although the intention was good, the question came off as bold, especially given the situation he knew the woman was in. Harry lowered his gaze, feeling a lump in his throat as silence lingered, trying to find a quick way to change the subject.

Lizzy, on the contrary, continued to watch him, aware that the real question was implicit: «Aren't you too young to be a widow?» Still, she decided to answer: "Yes, I am".

"Excuse my boldness". Were the words she received barely after her response. Lizzie hesitated for a moment whether those apologies were genuine, for if they were, he wouldn't have waited for her response. However, this didn't bother her; rather, she found it entertaining..

"Don't worry", she replied with a nod of her head, maintaining a hidden smile as she looked down for a moment. "It's not the first time I've heard that".

Harry fell silent as he watched the woman rise from her seat, feeling his heart beat hard, fearing being expelled from the house for his audacity. However, he began to relax as he saw the young woman head towards a corner of the room, a little away from him, where a wide collection of bottles rested on a shelf. Her hand rested on one of them, dissipating the tension in the air.

"Would you like some?" Lizzie asked Harry, gently lifting a glass of whiskey. Harry was forced to swallow before answering: "I can't". He admitted sincerely.

Lizzie simply nodded and returned to her glass, taking another sip before sitting in front of him on the sofa. All while Harry watched her attentively.

"I understand", she replied after another sip. "I just wanted you to know that you're passing up the best whiskey in the country". Harry's smile was the response Lizzie was hoping for to continue. "But if that's not an option for you and that's why you're not having it, the offer of cookies still stands".

Harry's eyes repeatedly slid over Lizzie's face. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that drove him to keep looking at her. Perhaps it was her apparent youth, her glow despite her recent husband's death, or the feeling of prohibition by remaining in her house after the interrogation had concluded.

However, the time that had passed was enough for him to regret his decision.

"In fact, I'll accept the offer this time". He announced.

And for the first time that night, he noticed a similarity between her and himself: a dimple that appeared on her cheek when she smiled.

"Perfect".

For at least a quarter of an hour, time passed. Harry found distraction in admiring the architecture and luxury while Lizzie busied herself in the kitchen. In the distance, Harry caught the sweet aroma of the cookies, awakening his appetite as he waited eagerly. Finally, he saw Lizzie approach with a tray, possibly silver, and place it on the central table of the living room. It was then that he realized there was not only food, but also liquids.

In his eagerness to discover, Harry neglected the cookies as his hand quickly reached for the glass of white liquid next to the main plate. He contemplated the liquid for a moment, feeling its warmth on his fingers before perceiving a soft voice rising beside him, at the same time that the sofa slightly gave way under his weight.

"I refrained from adding alcohol. There's only milk", he heard her laugh as he held the glass between his hands, not daring to look to the side. "You can try it to confirm".

Harry closed his eyes briefly, letting the voice fill his senses.

From the moment she entered the house, he had ignored the sweet scent of her perfume. He avoided looking at her bare legs when she crossed them during the conversation. He even refrained from looking at her for too long while she spoke.

However, he ended up doing exactly the opposite. At this point, he had engraved in his memory the smell of her perfume and constantly wondered how significant it would be. He had memorized her posture, and instead of using his notebook, he kept himself busy by observing her intently.

"Everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer".

His eyes suddenly opened.

His attention was inevitably drawn to her once more, finding her finally by his side, watching him intently. Time seemed to stand still around them. Harry couldn't discern with certainty what was driving him to act, whether it was simply Lizzie's close presence or the use of the expression "good girl", yet something inside him was beginning to flood him with a comforting sensation, making him feel warm and filled with a desperate longing to get closer to her.

Harry quickly turned, averting his gaze from Lizzie, and refocused his attention on the glass of milk and the cookies still on the tray. Suddenly his craving for food vanished, and he preferred to take a sip of the milk, savoring its sweetness, although it didn't quench his thirst. It wasn't until he had almost finished his drink that he mustered up the courage to face the somber gaze of the woman beside him again.

Harry had faced the feeling of intimidation on various occasions, especially in front of authority figures older than him, with serious countenances. However, this time was different. Sitting next to her, with her large eyes fixed on him, he experienced a strange sense of intimidation, although he couldn't understand why, but instead of rejecting it, he felt a growing curiosity that propelled his body forward.

Unconsciously, he found himself moving closer to her with a subtle motion, with his lips parted and close enough to brush against her face, and at the moment he thought he was about to break the tension, he found himself enveloped in a void.

His confusion was reflected in the widening of his eyes, which blinked a couple of times before returning to the front, where he found Lizzie standing in front of him. His gaze immediately fell, and he moistened his lips, preparing to speak, perhaps to apologize for feeling her distance as discomfort, but before he could say anything, he felt nails digging into his cheeks, lifting his face.

Harry tried to move forward, stretching his arms for more, although he was immediately stopped. His cheeks were released, while his hands were held back.

Quickly, Lizzie had taken the handcuffs that were still on his belt while he became aware of his now more extended position in space, with his legs spread apart, leaving room for her to position herself. Before Harry could understand what was happening, his wrists were trapped in the handcuffs, leaving him restrained in the armchair.

He tried to glance back, but the hands grabbed his cheeks once again, although with more force, ensuring visible marks were left. Forced to keep his focus on her, he could clearly distinguish her: her brown eyes, once bright from the room's light, now seemed darker, fixed on him as she sat on his lap, generating a warmth that consumed him.

He needed to be released. And not just from the handcuffs.

Then time began to pass quickly, just like the palpitations of his heart. His lips parted, seeking to catch his breath, but found only agitation, while small moans escaped from his throat at the wet kisses that left marks on his neck.

He wanted more.

He felt his shirt slipping off his body, feeling a slight coolness on his chest, soon replaced by the warmth of the kisses he received. A hand joined the game, caressing him as he tried to lower the fabric as much as possible, frustrated by the handcuffs that prevented his complete release.

He wanted more.

The hand descended, quickly unbuttoning his pants as he rose on the armchair, holding his weight and that of the woman on him. Both rose enough to pull down his pants to his calves, until he could push himself to remove his shoes and pants with the help of his feet.

But still, he wanted more.

He was beginning to experience a growing desperation as time passed. The palpitations in his chest kept him on edge, rising and falling just enough to provoke sighs, but just when they seemed to be heading where he needed them most, they rose again.

The moans filled the room as Harry began to move more forcefully, trying to seek something more than just a simple rubbing between his underwear and Lizzie's skirt. At first, he thought maybe she would feel sorry for seeing him like that, but seeing her eyes turn back to him without compassion, he realized he was wrong.

His breath caught when he saw Lizzie slowly unbuttoning her blouse, with agonizing slowness. Even when he prepared for his work as a policeman, he had not experienced such painful exercises as seeing her with her naked tits brushing his face, and not being able to feel them. 

"I saw you very thirsty", she whispered, her voice resonating in a softer tone than usual, awakening in Harry a sensitivity he could barely recognize at that moment. "Do you still want milk?"

His eyes brightened at the question, his head nodding before he could articulate a response; that was all Lizzie needed to pick up the half-finished glass of milk and pour it unhesitatingly over her breasts.

Harry paused for a moment, watching the white liquid carelessly spilling over the woman's nipples, seeing how the drops gradually disappeared over the edge of her skirt. He let out a barely audible sigh, unable to contain it, and then shifted his gaze to Lizzie, who looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if she had made a small oversight, although Harry received it with gratitude. He felt so grateful that, if necessary, he would have fallen to his knees to express his gratitude right at that moment.

"Oh, shit".

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she held Harry's hair, who finally decided to approach and take one of her breasts in his mouth. She could feel his tongue gently swirling around her nipple, alternating between delicate movements and firmer suctions.

Instinctively, her hands slid over his body, caressing his skin until they reached the edge of her skirt, which was already starting to feel too warm. She sensed Harry's lips slightly parting from her, which prompted her to immediately open her eyes to look at him.

She was met with his angelic face, with green eyes expanding towards her from below, his curly and disheveled hair, his moist face, and his lips with traces of white liquid at the corners. It was an image that was etched in her memory and urged her to act with greater urgency.

She took a deep breath before separating slightly from him, hearing a complaint starting to form on his lips before he fell silent upon realizing that Lizzie's skirt, along with her underwear, was disappearing. Despite feeling close, she had to take a few steps forward to return to Harry's lap, all while he watched her with his dark eyes, showing submission but pretending to hide something more. Lizzie wondered what it could be, but she didn't give it much importance as she returned to her position, feeling his cock more comfortably beneath her, although still covered by his underwear, brushing against her now naked cunt.

No more than a second passed before she refocused on her own pleasure, starting to move in circles around him again, while moans filled the room once more, both hers and Harry's, who, through his sounds, begged for mercy.

The rhythm intensified, leading Lizzie to abandon the circular movements and start with pelvic movements back and forth. Her excitement fluids facilitated the sliding over the cotton fabric of his underwear, allowing her to perceive more than she had imagined.

Contrary to his own satisfaction, Harry couldn't bear it anymore. A mix of excitement, desperation, discomfort, and anger invaded him as he couldn't feel completely satisfied. Although he had obeyed Lizzie's words, seeing her rubbing herself on him without really feeling her touch deeply frustrated him. He found no other way out than to start pushing forcefully, making the woman's body move sharply on top of him, causing her to open her eyes once more.

"Please", he managed to articulate, while his hips moved slightly.

Lizzie watched him for a few additional seconds before a mocking smile appeared on her face.

"Are you that needy for my pussy?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he felt three fingers invading his mouth, silencing him immediately as he sucked and moistened them. Then, as if his prayers had been heard, he felt Lizzie moving slightly away from his lap. He saw her kneel in front of him, taking off his underwear and exposing his erect member.

A sigh escaped his lips as the fingers, soaked with his own saliva and pre-cum, caressed his glans and began to masturbate him with the palm of her hand.

"Fuck me".

His voice emerged without hesitation, rough from the dryness in his tongue and throat, yet irresistibly enticing for Lizzie; eager for Harry.

"Is that an order?" she asked, teasingly. "What do you plan to do if I don't? After all, those handcuffs are in your hands, not mine". The massage on his cock became more vigorous, causing jolts from the fires he felt under her hand.

"Let's try again, officer", she suddenly mentioned, making his eyes close for a moment. His profession hadn't even crossed his mind until that moment, but the prohibition of the moment wasn't what affected him the most, but a fire that resurged within him, rising from his lower part to his chest, filling him with excitement as he heard her.

"Shit- Please, please fuck me".

A fleeting smile appeared on Lizzie's face and quickly disappeared as she sat in the place she had desired so much but from which she had refrained, not suppressing the moan that escaped once she achieved it.

She was about to start more energetic circular movements, finding something to hold on to this time, but her actions were overshadowed by those of the man beneath her, who had taken the lead, pounding forcefully and swiftly, making her sigh softly as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the pleasurable sensation.

Then she realized that Harry's urgency was expressing itself in that way, and she let herself go, allowing him to take the lead even when his hands remained restrained.

Lizzie was forced to hold onto the couch when she found that simply leaning on Harry's shoulders was not enough to withstand the onslaught she felt inside her. Her eyes involuntarily closed, unable to keep her gaze on him for long, while her lips parted in search of air. She only found relief when Harry's tongue joined hers on her neck, leaving the same careless kisses she had given him at the beginning, but this time he decided to intensify the sensations with suctions. Lizzie had no doubt that the marks would remain there for at least a week due to the force with which he made them.

"God- You fuck me so good", she exclaimed, accompanying her groan with a whisper that made Harry open his eyes, becoming hypnotized by the sight of Lizzie's tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He bit his lower lip to contain his own impending moan.

"I'm so close- Oh fuck! Fuck-". Lizzie's own moans intertwined, becoming more intense, filling the room with their sound, resonating even throughout the house.

Harry sharply inhaled air between his teeth, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the electric current running through his body, although he had been avoiding that moment, wanting first to observe Lizzie's reaction, wanting to absorb it completely.

"Look at me", Lizzie's voice pulled him out of his reverie, as she took his chin and forced their gazes to meet once more. "Come on, be good and let me feel you pulsating as you fill me with cum".

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open as he did his best to maintain his gaze on hers, intensifying his rhythm as much as he could, seeing her mouth open as she brought her face closer to his, brushing their lips.

"Harry!- Fuck".

Then climax came for both simultaneously, with their foreheads united and sweat sliding down them. Harry felt Lizzie's cunt walls squeezing his cock, which throbbed inside her, while she experienced a sensation of fullness and warmth, an excitement that ran through her whole body and left her trembling as she moaned softly.

As the minutes passed, their breaths calmed down. Although the atmosphere was still imbued with heat and disorder, Harry finally felt liberated, despite still having his hands handcuffed.

The large clock struck three in the morning when they woke up without realizing how long they had remained in that position. Lizzie noticed the weight on her eyelids, indicating the need for rest, but she was forced to separate from Harry when she felt the burning sensation in her thighs, and the first thing she saw when she got up was the slight smile on Harry's face.

"I don't know if you've had experience as a criminal before, but you look very comfortable with those handcuffs".

The comment only made Harry's smile widen before he opened his eyes and replied: "I can't feel my wrists".

Immediately after, Harry watched as the dimple on Lizzie's face reappeared, but this time accompanied by a genuine laugh.

After he revealed the location of the key that would unlock the handcuffs and she finally managed to free him, she walked to one of the utility rooms in search of a blanket, still naked and feeling the cold air brushing against her skin.

Lizzie focused on her destination, avoiding looking elsewhere, entered the room, took the blanket, and walked out without looking back, ignoring the shadow she had perceived slipping down the hallway.

Once they settled on the sofa in the living room, she watched as Harry's hand reached for the silver tray that had remained on the central table, and he took one of the cookies she had prepared. At that moment, Lizzie suspected that perhaps that action had caused her perplexity upon learning of Richard's death.

Because it hadn't fit with her plans.

The chocolate cookies had awaited on her bedside table in the previous room, expecting her husband's first bite upon returning from the office after a long day of work.

That would have been the culmination, the beginning of something new.

So she understood that this episode marked the real beginning, perhaps the prelude to a dangerous game she was willing to embark on once again. From scratch.

[bristishbaddiesxox]

Still The One H.S.

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One shot!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · . Summary : Mary goes out one night with her girlfriends to their local college bar when she runs into her now ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles. Alone on the balcony they talk about what went wrong and confess their true feelings for one another

-> 5.3k words

Warnings : this story is entirely fictional and contains Adult language, sexual scenes (smut), make up sex, intense arguments, drinking, smoking, etc... please read at your own risk

author's note: This one is long asf. I really hope you guys enjoy this ! this is my first one shot posted on here. This also is the first time I've published smut so... beware it might be super bad.

Tonight was the night everyone went out to the bars.Mary spent all her time doing her hair and makeup. Being a senior in college came with many challenges and the nights out with her girlfriends helped carried her through the harsh part of college. Being in pre-med came with many trials of difficult class curriculums. She was constantly stressing herself out, limiting nights out and skipping meals. She only just prayed that it'll all be worth it at the end. And now that graduation was around the corner, she finally could celebrate.

Ella had decided that they would go to a bar tonight. It'd be one of the last times that they would all be able to go to their college bar together before graduating. They were to all finally start on of the most important part of their lives and that was starting their careers that they spent the last four years working towards.

" I'm going to miss this so much," Ella sighed out while gluing on her lashes.

" I know, partying and being stupid drunk bitches," Mary replies back.

Ella and Mary had so many late night memories together. Ella was Mary's friend since freshman year. She was Mary's roommate since first semester of freshman year. They had been by each other's side all of the four years of college. Mary couldn't imagine what her four years would have been without Ella-- her twin-- her bestfriend.

" You know, what if he's there tonight?"

Mary looks up at Ella and shoots her a confused look, " What if who's there tonight?"

" You know, Harry. What if Harry is there tonight?" Ella shrugs beginning to put lipstick on.

Mary rolls her eyes, " Then he's there. It won't change anything."

Harry was Mary's now ex boyfriend. They had broken up over the summer and hadn't seen or spoken to each other since then. Occasionally, She'd see him on campus and avoid him. But overall, Mary went to the extent to keep Harry out of sight and out of mind. She couldn't sit hung up about their now past relationship.

" Would you ever get back together with him if time was right and you guys were on good terms?" Ella asks while taking a sip of her seltzer.

Mary shook her head, " I don't think so. I've gotten over it and he's for sure over it. I've been seen him with this new girl anyways. We're not going back."

Ella just slowly nodded. Mary could tell Ella didn't believe her but decided on ignoring her anyways.

When Ella and Mary had arrived to the bar, they met up with a couple of their other girlfriends who also had brought their boyfriends. They waited outside the line of the bar squealing and shouting to one another about how great the night was going to be. Mary was wearing a black tube top and denim shorts. She let her dark brown hair fall over her shoulders and layered gold jewelry around her neck. As they waited to enter the bar, all Mary could think about was what if Harry was here? Harry and her had always went to the bar together. She would remember how they would end the night at his place having the most drunken yet steamiest sex. Now he's probably doing everything they did with someone new.

The bouncer lets them in and immediately they make their way to the bar. First round was on Maddie's Boyfriend who had bought shots for the whole group.

" For my future doctor and wife, Maddie!" He cheers.

Everyone lifts their shot glass up and cheers on Maddie for getting in to med school.

Mary waves down a bartender and asks for another round of shots for her group. She also demanded for a Vodka Redbull . Ella then calls for them to hit the dance floor and dance to the music being played by the DJ. Mary hadn't had this much fun in so long. She was having time to enjoy herself and celebrate finally finishing her degree. Her arm was wrapped around her best friend Ella as they danced in the crowd. The whole night they shared laughs and took videos and pictures of each other being plastered drunk. Together they ran laps around the bar talking to different guys who had offered to buy them a shot . Mary came to realize how fun it was to be single. She could do whatever she wanted without having to worry or think about anyone else. All she had was herself to enjoy the night away.

Mary and Ella had been playing with each other and these two guys that they found at the bar. Mary could barely keep her balance but she still wanted to carry through the night. Her body was numb and her head hung dizzy. As she stumbled back she felt a cold drink splash onto her back and a glass hit the ground. Her eyes widen to her surprise and she quickly whipped around.

" Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!" She cried out immediately grabbing napkins from the counter. She was too busy trying to clean up this man black shirt that she didn't even realize who it was.

" I'll buy you a new shirt, I'm sorry again," she apologizes.

His hand then takes hers. It was warm and soft.

" Don't worry about it Mary," a familiar english voice spoke.

That's when her eyes widened and her eyes met his—his green emerald eyes. It felt almost like a reel of everything in the past rushing into her as she stood there frozen. It was him. It was Harry. She felt the whole room fall silent and herself grow small while staring up at him. He had nothing but a soft smile while looking down at her. She blinks back to reality and takes a step back. He had still been holding her hand in his while she pulled it back to herself.

" I-um. I gotta go," was all she said while turning around and pushing past people.

She found her way back to Ella who was laughing along with the two guys they were hanging out with. Ella noticed how frantic and anxious Mary had became as Mary began digging in her purse. She reassured the guys before walking to her friend who clearly wasn't okay.

" Mary are you okay?" She says putting an arm on Mary's shoulder.

Mary shook her head 'yes'.

" I just saw Harry," she blurts.

Ella's eyes widen and her mouth drops. She almost lets out this historical laugh. It was for sure that Harry would be at this bar. Harry had gone here on multiple occasions even when Him and Mary were together. But she still felt for her friend who was still suffering a broken-heart from their relationship. She recalled the nights where Mary wouldn't come out her room and how quiet and depressed she was over their breakup. It was so many stages of heartbreak she wished to never see her friend suffer in again.

" Mary, we can leave if you want," Ella softly said as she was rubbing circles around Mary's back.

" No, I'm coming back. I just need air. And then I'm coming back and we're going to go back and dance," Mary slurred her words while picking up her purse.

"Okay, I'll come with you," Ella said going to reach for her bag. But Mary stops her.

" No! Just stay here. I need a minute alone and I'll be right back," Mary says shouting through the music and crowd.

Ella nods hesitantly. She wasn't sure if she can trust Mary being alone. Especially after just watching her down a Martini.

" I'll be back, I promise." She says pulling Ella into a hug.

Mary pushes her way through the crowd and climbs up a couple steps to head the balconies on the second floor. Once opening the door she is met with the breeze that brushed upon her. She finally could breathe. She walks over to the ledge to look over the city. Boston was so beautiful at night. She begins to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. But to her disappointment, she must have forgot her lighter back at her place.

" Fuck," she hisses to herself.

She goes digging in her purse once again. She didn't want to believe she left the lighter because she really just wanted to smoke. The night had gotten even more chaotic than she thought it would have.

" Thought you don't smoke," She hears the familiar voice speak again.

She stops digging in her purse. While rolling her eyes to herself she turns to face him once again. He was standing there, smoking a cigarette himself.

" I don't," she snaps.

He laughs as he makes his way over to her. She takes a step away to further the distance between them.

" Mary," He calls.

She doesn't look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze starting out into the city. Looking at him pained her. She remembered everything like it was yesterday. The day she watched his back turn and the door shut behind him. And he never came back.

" I'll light you one. It's just a small favor don't take it personally," he says handing her his lighter.

She looks down at his hand to see it was her old lighter. It had the initials H.S. On it. She wrote it on there for him. She sighs out and takes the lighter out of his hands. She held the cigarette in between her lips and begins to light it. And there she took the longest drag she could out of it.

She was in a much better mood now that she can relax and calm her nerves. Normally, she didn't smoke on a daily basis. She had quit after high school. She felt that she needed to better herself. But time after time she would smoke one just to settle her nerves. It would usually be after drinking all night which wasn't a regular occurrence.

" So, congratulations. I just want to say I'm proud of you," he says leaning over the rail looking over at her.

She kept her arms crossed and just shrugged instead of answering to his comment. Giving in would make her feel vulnerable— like she'd had given up on all the platforms she built for herself after she had healed from their past.

Harry understood it. He knew she was angry. He also knew how stubborn Mary was.

" Mary," he calls again.

She grumbled out loud turning over to him taking another drag while seeing the sight of her ex boyfriend.

" Stop, okay? Just finish your cigarette and carry on with the night," she barks.

He still approached her. Something inside his chest was burning and he was dying to let out whatever tension he had within himself. If he didn't tell her now he knew he would regret it like he did that night they broke up. He knew he messed up. He was the one to walk away and left her that night when he should have stayed and tried to work things out. He was always the one to a put up a fight and yet that night he felt short. And because of that, he dealt with days and months of not seeing her, touching her. He missed her more than anything and seeing her at the bar, hearing her say his name, he felt everything he had for her wash over him.

" Mary I miss you," he blurts.

She just shook her head staring ahead of of herself. She was still mad, he knew that. But now more than ever he wanted to fix things.

He walks over to her and grabs her shoulders whipping her around to face him. Her eyes widen and she threw her hands up and pushed him back from her. He hasn't seen her this physical.

" Don't fucking touch me Harry. You had your chance, now it's over. We're ov--"

" Don't--" he interrupts.

" Don't say that, please," his voice cracks.

" Then what do you want Harry? You left me. You were the one to call things off and now you're saying you miss me?" She scoffs before finishing off her cigarette. She tosses it to the ground and crushes it with her shoe.

" I know. I know I fucked up. I was drunk. I was stupid. I woke up the next day and realized how much I fucked up."

She doesn't say anything back. She was hugging herself as she bit her lip. And then she turned to face him as her eyes fell.

" Then why didn't come back?" was all she let out while staring at him waiting for an answer.

Harry knew he let his pride get the best of him. He knew in the end, he wanted to be with Mary more than anything yet he didn't go back because he was scared. He was scared she wouldn't take him back. And now it's been 6 months and he is far now too late to beg.

" I just thought you never wanted to see me again... like how you shouted it at me that night," he quietly answered.

They stood in silence letting the breeze brush past them. Mary just shook her head to herself, remembering the night it all ended: .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　

Harry had came in the apartment drunk after Mary had texted him that she was tired of his bullshit. Harry was apart of a frat and made little to no time for her. It was exam week and she and him had barely spoken because she would spend all her time studying while he spent nights out partying. She wanted to support Harry but there were too many times he left her in the dark or did things that made her question her trust with him. It was until she opened her snapchat. She saw on one of his friends videos that a girl had approached Harry and her arm was around him. It made her even more furious because it was Katie Woods. Not only was she apart of the sister frat but she was the bombshell of the school. Mary only felt inferior to her whenever she saw her talk to Harry. Katie always found a way to talk to Harry and push Mary out.

" Mary, it was nothing okay? She was just there at the party and we only talked for 30 seconds it wasn't anything serious," He slurs his words.

Mary had her arms folded as she stared at Harry in disbelief. She couldn't believe the first thing he didn't do was apologize.

" You know what, I'm done. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you invalidating me about how she's all over you! And when there is a video of her arms wrapped around you, and you still want to deny it all!"

" Mary, I don't know how else to tell you that it's nothing. You're my girlfriend, you're the one I come home to every night, you're the one I want to be with," He sighs out reach his hands out to pull Mary close to him.

Instead, she just pushed his hands back and stood back. Her eyes were heavy with dark circles from hours of studying and staring at her laptop. Her hair was clipped up yet small strands hung loose. She was still in her pajamas from the previous night.

She turned and walked away with disappointment in her sigh. Where were they in their relationship? They were constantly arguing, he was falling short not coming to see her when she really wanted to. And when she went to go out and eat he was always late. What happened to them? She wanted to know where did everything start to fall apart?

" You don't believe me," he scoffs turning to face the other way threw his hands up to cup the back of his head.

" We've been together for nearly 3 years now, what makes you not trust me now?" He snaps.

Mary knew Harry was drunk but never has she ever seen him angry while drunk. Harry didn't often get angry around her. He always was composed and when they did argue he never rose his voice. But she can sense with this argument he was a lot more angrier then he ever had been.

" You never answer my calls," she says quietly. She felt like passing out.

" I'm not constantly sitting around. I don't have my phone and my laptop on me like you do at all times."

And this time, Mary too was losing patience. It takes one simple thing to ruin it all and she let Harry do multiple.

" You know what Harry, fuck you. Go back to your frat and this time you can go back without a girlfriend!" She barks.

That's when Harry's eyes widen at her response. He was very much even more provoked than he initially was. And Mary wanted to keep pushing him. She was tired of being the one who felt hurt, neglected, and always having to forgive Harry for his mistakes.

" I'm sick of this. You never even text to check on me. You give me the most simple dry responses. I'm so fucking stressed and tired and my boyfriend, someone I want to just simply acknowledge me can't because he doesn't want to take a simple 5 minute break to text his long-term girlfriend." She hissed.

" You know what, I'm sick of you always blaming me. It's always my fault when things don't go your fucking way Mary. It's not like I do this all the damn time. Most days, I'm with you! I do everything with you and I. always. choose. you." He shouted back.

Her hands were clenching her hair as if she were about to go insane. She was just going to go in circles with Harry because he was drunk and was more angry than he could think at the moment.

" You know what. Get out." She says pointing at the door.

" What?" He says tilting his head looking at her in disbelief.

" Get. out. I don't want to see you tonight." She grits through her teeth at him.

" No, I'm not fucking leaving," He protests.

" Harry I can't do this right now! you're fucking drunk, you reek of alcohol!"

" Holy shit Mary, fine you don't want to see me then that's fine," he says throwing his hands up in defeat and walking out the door.

As she hears his foot steps fade she hears a buzz. It was his phone that was on her dresser. She walks over to pick it up so that she can give him his phone. When the screen lit up it showed her the contact. It read Katie. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. She felt her eyes water and tears fall down her cheeks. Never in a million years did she suspect that Harry would cheat on her. But the messages she read proved her otherwise.

Katie: Where did you go?

Katie: She doesn't have to know.

Harry walks back into the room mid sentence about to grab his phone until he saw Mary's face.

" Babe, wh- what happened?" he says approaching her.

She throws his phone at him and begins shoving him out of her room.

" Get the fuck out. I can't believe you right now!" she cries out through her tears.

" Mary! Please calm down what the fuck happened?" He says picking up his phone as he held his hand out for her to stop.

" She's fucking text you? Asking where you are? What is it that I don't have to know Harry? "

Harry looks down dumbfounded by the messages. He knew what the text were for but Mary had already taken them personally and was far more angry than she already was.

" Mary, it's not what you think," he says trying to calm her down but she wouldn't budge.

" No, don't fucking touch me. Get the fuck out Harry."

She was now repeatedly pushing him to the door.

" Mary-"

" Get out Harry! I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you or see you ever again," she sobbed.

" You know what. fine! You won't see me again. We're done." he shouted at her before simply turning and walked out the door.

Mary just slumped to the ground and sobbed. Harry was gone. Harry left. She didn't know what to do. she didn't know what to feel. Her body was riddled with so many emotions that all she could do was cry out her pain.

 After that night, Harry didn't call nor text her. She starred at her phone endlessly. She wanted to say something but in reality she shouldn't be pushing for Harry to reach out to her. Maybe he really meant what he said to her that night. And for days after this she just had to push through and heal from all of that night... .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 

 Mary closed her eye to the thought of that night. That night was one of the biggest fights they had ever had. She remembered the days that came after it. She had a hard time sleeping and eating. She struggled to get through her classes. She hated being anywhere but her bedroom where she could hide away and sob her feelings out.

Harry recalled the days after the fight too. Each time he walked passed her building trying to build to courage to walk up and say he was sorry. But he couldn't. He didn't believe he could after what he did to her. He knew he treated her so unfairly. And that was apart of what held him back -- his guilt.

" I'm sorry," he suddenly blurts.

" I'm sorry for being so fucking stupid. You were going through a lot and I just downplayed it. I took everything for granted when I shouldn't have. I-I blew it. I ruined it all because I was being selfish," he says as he was now closer to her than he initially was.

She didn't back away, she just looked up at him.

" It's been six months and you're still the one," he continued.

" You're the one--"

He was suddenly cut off by Marys hands pulling his face down to kiss him. His hands naturally go to cup her cheeks as he deepened their kiss. It was as if it's been years and he had been craving to feel her lips again. He kissed her hungrily, tasting every bit of her that he had missed. And when they pulled away, he could see the tears in her eyes.

" And I should have told you I wanted you back," she says beginning to cry.

Harry didn't hesitate to pull her into his embrace. She cried into his chest while his chin rested on the top of her head. He held her tight, so tight that she wouldn't be able to push herself away. Harry wasn't going to lose her again. He wasn't going to let her leave. This night and from this day forward, he was going to put up a fight. Because in the end, he couldn't be without Mary. She was the love of his life.

Harry had brought Mary back to his place since he had moved out of his previous apartment with his frat roommates. He now had lived alone. Mary trailed behind him with their hands still interlocked. He couldn't help but to smile to himself. Mary smelled of perfume and alcohol but to him he was happy that she was out and enjoying herself. She looked a lot happier.

" So this is my flat. It's just me who lives here," He says holding his arm out to gesture to his living room.

Mary laughed, " I like it, it's so you."

There was a moment of silence while he stood grinning over at Mary. She was finally at his place. She was finally talking to him. He just had to get her back into his life.

" And I just need you in it," He smirks, pulling Mary into a long, passionate deep kiss.

Her arms go to wrap around his neck as she kissed him back. Slowly, they step into his bedroom not breaking their kiss. She dropped her bag on the ground. He tossed his coat to the side. She quickly took off her coat and he pulled the hair tie that held her hair up gently out. Soon they were back all over each other. Mary hadn't felt Harry's hands all over her in so long that she was getting slightly impatient. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Harry was eyeing the black sheer lacy bra that she had on.

He picked her up and planted her onto of his dresser, leaving wet soft kisses from her neck, trialing down right above her most sensitive part. His hands pull the denim shorts down and he felt himself twitch the lacy black thong she had on. She sat there with her legs slightly parted, eyeing Harry as she waited for his next move.

He then stood in between her legs, and planted his lips onto hers as his hand went down to rub the thin cloth that separated her most vulnerable spot and his fingers. She lets out a deep moan into their kiss as Harry let his fingers play with her. For a second, she had to moan into the crevices of his neck as her hand went down to rub against his now harden bulge. He then wiggled his fingers in between her thong and let them slip into her, causing her to dip her head into his neck again and let out a cry. He went slowly in and out, kissing her on her neck, kissing her on her forehead and lips.

Mary can feel herself edge closer. She was going insane with how much she wanted Harry to ruin her. She so horny that she felt that she needed more than just his fingers inside of her. She wanted more. She wanted to be ruined with her makeup smeared everywhere. Inside her head she knew that no one else could make her feel the way Harry made her feel.

" Harry please," She's breathes.

" Please what baby?" He says while looking down at her while increasing the way his fingers flowed in and out of her.

" Please fuck me!" She cries out as her hands go to clutch onto his shoulder.

" Tell me how, how do you like it baby?" He smirks down at her as his fingers were nearly soaked at how wet she was for him.

" Like, like how you would bend me over and pound into me, I want- I want you to fuck me hard Harry," she struggles to say as she was feeling her body grow weak to his touch.

Harry pulled his fingers out and pulled her in for another kiss while unclipping her bra and tossing it to the ground. He eyes her first while watching how her hair fell right on top of her breast and hardened nipples. He then picked her up from the dresser and threw he onto his bed. He slowly goes to pull her lacy thong down exposing all of her to him. He crawls on top of her, beginning with a long passionate kiss to her lips and then trailing all the way down to her cl!t. He began to paint her with his tongue. To him, she tasted sweet like honey, sweet and sour like oranges. Mary felt this euphoric feeling travel up her as her hands were buried in his curly locks.

" Yes Harry! Just like that!" She moans out.

Harry pulls away, now unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to his ankles. He kicks them off before pulling down his boxers to reveal and long hardened cock.

He climbs over Mary and aligns himself at her entrance. And places a couple more kisses on her lips while rubbing the tip of his length in between her folds. And that's when he pushes himself in and Mary lets out a loud moan. Slowly he goes in and out, letting her adjust to him. They both were panting, breathing out hot breathes as he thrusted into her. Her hands were clenching his back as his strokes were slow but went in deep. Each thrust, she felt this high that made her bite her lip and moan out each time. Something that she never forgot about Harry was that his sex was pure ecstasy. She was feeling all kinds of highs whenever he fucked her.

Harry didn't quicken his pace and her eyes rolled back as she whimpered. He kept it slow and intimate all while planting long firm kisses on her lips and feeling the vibrations of her moans travel through him. Mary meant the most to him and he wanted her to feel that. Each thrust he poured all his love for Mary. Seeing her unveiled and watching her unfold under him, it made him feel at the top of the world. His hand rested on her hips when ever he would thrust harder just to hit the right spot. She was a moaning mess and he thought it was the hottest thing.

Together they were going to reach their highs. Her legs began to convulse and she was now shaking underneath him. He was letting out deep groans and raspy moans as he began to pound into her. The bed began to bang against the wall and Mary was letting out a high pitched whimper.

" Fuck, I'm going to cum," Harry growls

And once it finally hit, he felt himself collapse onto of her, slowly and sloppily thrusting into her. He kissed her and brushed her hair back as she came down for her high. He held her close until her body relaxed. And when they finally settled, he pulled out and got out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

Mary was still slumped and recovering from the intensity of her orgasm. But she watched Harry as he cleaned up and grabbed a towel. When he came back, he helped her wipe herself before getting back into the bed with her and pulling her to lay against his chest.

They laid in silence against each other as his hands brushed through her hair. He smiled at how messy it still was from their night of fun.

" Mary?" He called out.

" Mm," was all she replied back.

" That night Katie Texted, she texted me about her friend who she didn't want know that she was out that night. I was initially was suppose to give her and Damien a ride, they had been seeing each other. But I got the text and rushed over to you instead."

Mary looked at him, almost with guilt in her eyes. She knew she should have listened to Harry that night. They both should have listened to each other.

" But it doesn't matter, I didn't listen to what you had to say and how you felt. I was a shitty boyfriend and it was no wonder you thought that after the video. But just know Mary... I love you and I'd never do that to you."

She smiled and pulls him down to give him a kiss. She still loved Harry all this time. Even if she kept denying it she knew deep down she wouldn't have been able to push Harry away again.

" I quit the frat, I've focused on school, I got this internship at a publishing firm. I've changed Mary believe me. I changed in hopes that I'd see you and you'd come back..." he trails

Her hand goes to cup his cheek and leans in to peck his lips.

" We'll just have to start over and work things out," she simply replied.

He smiles and plants another kiss on her lips. They continued to make out, their hands cupping each other's cheeks.

" We going for round two?" she asks in between their kiss.

Harry pulls away laughing while putting her to have her sit on his lap.

" Will you be able to walk tomorrow?" He says interlocking their hands.

" I have nothing to do tomorrow, we can stay in bed all day," She grins.

Without hesitation he throws her down back on the bed and began to shower her with kisses.

" I'll be more gentle this time." he smirks. 

From then on, the past was past. Living is to forget. Being able to forget is to learn. Harry and Mary took time to understand each other more and chose their priorities for one another. In the end, Harry was more than happy to be able to call Mary his girlfriend once again. 

[cinemastyles-blog]

Categorized by each of Harry’s Eras

LHH | Frat Boy Harry | Prince Harry | Bandana Harry | Dunkirk Harry | HS1 Harry | Fine Line Harry | Man Bun Harry | Mustache/Quarantine Harry | Harry’s House/ Current Harry | Narry | Zarry

All of these are SMUT one shots unless they say fluff beside them.

The list will be updated as one shots are written.

Niall Horan Smut One Shots -> @wastedonhoran

Louis Tomlinson Smut One Shots -> @holdinonto-heartache

LONG HAIR HARRY

Temporary Fix  

Lights, Camera, Action.

Lights, Camera, Action. Part 2

Lights, Camera, Action. Part 3

Tattooed Harry

Your Brother Will Kill Me

Not A Free Show

You Like That?

Becky’s So Hot

Was It Worth the Wait?

Exploration

FRAT BOY HARRY

Frat House

B.M.W.B  

Game On.

Model For Me

Cherry Pop

What Happens on the Tour Bus, Stays on the Tour Bus.   What Happens on the Tour Bus, Stays on the Tour Bus Part 2

Can I Take You Somewhere?

Isn’t Your Mom Home?

I Love Being in the Band.

And Scene.

PRINCE HARRY

Visiting Home

Visiting Home Part 2

A Friend of Harry’s [Zarry]

Riding the High

Best Tutor Ever

BANDANA HARRY

You Got Me

Make Up

Matter of Time apart 2

DUNKIRK HARRY

Under My Skin

Spill or Fill

Spill or Fill Part 2

Spill or Fill Part 3

One & Done?

Medicine

Assistant C.E.O

Tensions Are High

Teacher’s Lounge

Glad You Passed By

HS1 HARRY

Live in Studio

Live in Studio Part 2

Golden

Red Cuffs

Show Me How You Do It

Kiwi. Part 1 and Part 2

It Pays To Be A Harry Girl

Just A Girl in the Bar

FINE LINE HARRY

Still the One

Still the One Part 2

Loved You First  

Staying Focused

Staying Focused Part 2

To Be So Lonely

MANBUN HARRY

When You Know, You Know.

A-hole to Everyone but You

MUSTACHE/QUARANTINE HARRY

Late Night Talking

Three Plus One fluff blurb

Next Room Over

So, You’re Mr..  

So, You’re Mr.. Part 2

HARRY’S HOUSE/ CURRENT HARRY

Punished

Showered with Love fluff blurb

Iced Vanilla Latte  

We Should[n’t] Be Alone Together 

We Should[n’t] Be Alone Together Part 2

You Think Of Me When Exactly?

Say That Again, Baby

Just Like the Movies?

Just a Guitarist?

BOXER HARRY

Come On, You Got It.

NARRY

When In Rome [Narry]

To Niall, From Harry  

Now, Imagine That With Two

Guess who [Harry, Niall, Zayn]

Touch Each Other

FANFICTION

Two Ghosts [hs]

PRIVATE AFFAIR [h.s]

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

I take requests and my anon is on.

I am open to writing anything your filthy little hearts desire, all you have to do is send them here!

[succulentsiren]

Dark Feminine Tips🌹- Don't share everything about you all at once.

Avoid telling your whole life story in one conversation and instead give people time to unravel your mystery and get to know you.

Staying mysterious gives them more to discover about you. They’ll continuously wonder, who are you really.

Not knowing everything is what keeps their imagination alive and therefore keeps them invested in you longer. Always keep a part of you just for yourself and reveal your layers slowly.

— H.S.

[jezebelblues]

saturn bound | h.s

summary: in which the world ends in your point of view, alongside your husband.

cw: death, angsty-ish i guess? unedited, grammatically correct in upper case if that tickles ur fancy.

word count: approx 1.4k. she’s a shortie

| this is in first person! (perspective of you, as reader) i was iffy about a 1st perspective so i edited in both 2nd and 3rd, but 1st person felt right. sorry if u hate, ladies.

masterlist

No one would remember me as YN, no one would remember my husband as Harry.

As the world crumbled into its final moments, you’d think that chaos would envelope everyone whole. That people would be running, screaming, fighting, as if they could somehow wrestle with the jaws of fate. Mothers clutching their children, fathers desperately barking orders to no one, families collapsing under the weight of hopelessness. Dogs howling into the wind after their selfish owners sped off, children sobbing as the air itself seemed to shudder with terror. A cacophony of fear.

You’d imagine fear cause these people knew their life was going to end.

And it was there undeniably, fear. Not the frantic kind, though. A different one—a quiet terror that settled deep in the bones, cold and ancient, like the Earth itself had finally whispered its last breath into our ears. It didn’t matter what was ending us—whether the dead were clawing from their graves, or if the sky had split apart and let loose the fires of heaven, or some disease had snatched us, unseen, from within. It didn’t matter. Not really. Because the truth was simple, inevitable: today, all life on Earth would be snuffed out, and we would become nothing—a floating spec of a forgotten afterthought.

There would be no future, no one left to carry the stories of humankind forward. No history books filled with our triumphs and tragedies. There would be no mourning of our extinction, the things we took for granted. Earth would be a blank—unknown, just one of countless casualties of time. If there was anyone out there in the universe with us, the children of this planet, would be memories swept away like dust, if even that. There would be no tears shed for us. The universe, so vast, would hardly notice our passing.

Some prayed. Desperation forced them down to their knees, begging for salvation, for some kind of afterlife, something more beautiful than their end. The thought of death so terrifying that they’d hope and pray they’ll end up in heaven—hell, even. Anything other than nothing, than eternal darkness. I understood, in a way, because nothing is scary—we’re alive, we’ve never experienced it—it’s impossible to wrap your mind around nothing.

Others drank. I joined them, a bottle of tequila in hand, the burn numbing me just enough to make peace with the fact that I would die today. And my Harry, the man that gave me his last name, would die beside me.

Harry Styles, the man the world adored, the man I called my husband—sat next to me, his head resting softly against my shoulder. We watched as Saturn, impossibly close now, loomed over us, over our home, like an executioner asking for our final words. Its rings shimmered, casting a glow that drowned out the stars. The air was thick with sobs, with whispered prayers. People clung to each other like lifelines, as if the touch of another human might hold them here, in this world that was no longer theirs. Some screamed, but most just stood and stared, watching death arrive with a strange, defeated calm—a cobra swaying in dance before striking its prey.

Harry’s hand found mine, gripping it tightly as if to stay grounded. He tried to pray, the fingers on his left hand trembling with the grasp of his cross pendant, but his voice cracked, breaking on the words. Tears ran down his face, but I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left in me to give to hope or fear. Once, faith could’ve been my anchor, but now it felt like a lie I might tell myself to feel safe. There was no safety here. There was no escaping this.

And so I watched, as those I had once called neighbors, friends, fought against the inevitable. They ran, though there was nowhere to go. They screamed, though no one could hear. They prayed, though no god would answer. It was almost pathetic, the way they clung to the last shreds of life. But maybe it gave them some comfort. Maybe that was all anyone wanted in the end—their last conjured thought to be at least I tried.

"You know-” he trailed off softly, his voice breaking the stillness between us, "I always thought we'd have more time. That mayb-” He sighed. “Maybe we'd get old together."

His words struck me like a blow. "I thought so too." I whispered, feeling the ache in my chest grow heavier. It felt so cruel, to have found this love, this overwhelming, all-consuming love, only to have it ripped away after two years of marriage. "We deserved more, H.”

My husband’s thumbs ran circles upon the back of my hand, his tears glistening in the glow of Saturn. His lip quivered, voice shaky. “We can be old now.” He sent me a sad smile, pressing a kiss into my temple. “Happy fiftieth anniversary.” He murmured, playing with the ring on my finger.

I couldn’t stifle the whimper that fell from my grin, nodding to his words. I stared at his wedding band that shimmered in the light before passing the bottle of tequila between us—a toast. To fifty years of marriage. That would’ve something to drink to.

One swig turned into three, three turned into five. It had helped stopped the tears eventually.

Harry turned to me, his face inches from mine, and I could see the weight of the world in his eyes—a humorous irony, really, now that we really are practically weightless as we pull into Saturn’s gravity. He raised a hand, cupping my face so gently, as though I were something precious that he didn't want to break.

"If I could choose how it all ends," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, "I'd choose this—here with you. If this is the last thing I feel, the last thing I see, then maybe it's not so bad."

Alcohol couldn't stop the tears then. They spilled over, warm and unrelenting, because what else could I do? I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling as the world began to fall apart around us. The rumble of the Earth cracking, the low roar of Saturn's tug—it all seemed so distant, so unimportant.

"I don't want to lose you." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

"You won't, YN." His voice was unwavering, as if he had the book of answers hidden in his pocket. His thumb brushed over my cheek while his lips parted once more. "You'll always have me. Always."

And then he kissed me. It wasn't desperate or rushed. It wasn't the kiss of two people saying goodbye, just an I’ll see you later. It was slow, soft, full of everything we had been to each other. His lips were warm, delicate, and for a moment I could pretend the world wasn't ending. I could pretend that all we had was time.

Saturn’s light bathed the earth in colors that had never seemed so tragically gorgeous—deep purples, blues, and grays, all spinning around the our dying planet. The rings twisted and churned in the sky, pulling our world apart piece by piece, and the wind howled as if it cried for us. The stars dimmed, one by one, turning away from the spectacle of our destruction, unable to bear witness. Maybe they chose to die along side us, not letting Earth go through it alone.—like they were the only ones who’d mourn our death. I silently thanked them, though inanimate, I swear I could feel their empathy.

Harry gripped my hand tighter, his skin warm against the cold air. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. Our foreheads met again, a united front. His green eyes met mine, full of sorrow, of love, of things unsaid. I wanted every one of the five senses to envelope only him. Our last moment to be together, not watching the world collapse, but here, in this space we had carved out between us.

I kissed him. One last time. The taste of salt from his tears mingled with the liquor on my lips. “I love you.” We whispered together, our voices lost in the roar of the sky falling apart.

And then it was gone.

The cold sank into my bones, but it no longer mattered. My heart slowed, and the world around me faded. No more breath in my lungs, no more blood in my veins. Just the void. And as we drifted into that nothingness, I held onto one final hope—that there is some sort of afterlife, so I could find my Harry again.

Yet, the Earth was gone. It dissolved into the void like dust. The stars, too, blinked out one by one, and the universe spun on, indifferent. We were forgotten, nothing left to even decompose in our boundless grave. Perhaps the dead stars that’ll become something more will be our headstones—an indication we were once here.

But for now, it was as if we never existed in the first place.

btw if you feel like you’ve seen this before, i originally wrote this on wattpad in 2017. it was horrible :D but i liked the concept, so this is it readjusted. hope u enjoyed even just a lil <3

[coucouatoi]

we're not who we used to be | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Summary: Some letters you've written but never sent to Harry over the years.

Warnings: Angst... so much... there's some fluff, emphasise on the some, there's a hopeful ending tho!

A/N: Sooo this is the childhood friends to strangers fic no one asked for... Hope you all enjoy! This is my writing debut in Harry land :)

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April 10' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your first fan

Hiya Harry,

It's currently 11:29 pm about 10 hours away from your audition. I figured since you told me to stop praising you and boosting your ego, I'm writing down the rest of the things I want to say.

Firstly, I know you're going to smash it! All the judges are going to want you in. There's no chance that they won't see how special you are, how you're the next big thing.

I won't let you back out of it last second! Anne, Gemma and I are ready to drag you onto the stage, we've discussed it thoroughly...

Secondly, I'm already so proud of you. This is a huge step, I know how nervous you are about it. How you think that everything is going to go wrong and that you'll fail. I've got enough hope in you for the both of us. I'll stand by your side the whole time and I'll cheer the loudest.

To finish, you're Harry Styles. You can do anything.

Break a leg superstar!!

Cheering you on already,

Your first-ever fan

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December 12' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your biggest fan

Harry!

You've made it all the way to the finals! It's crazy! I knew you could do it but seeing you go further and further has been surreal.

I hope you and the other boys get along well! We haven't had much chance to really gossip about it all, you seem excited with them!

The finale is set to start in about 2 hours and I had to get some emotions out (my mom was tired of hearing them... rude) Anyway! I remembered that I had written you a letter a few months ago and now I'm back in this notebook.

I'm so nervous, excited and kind of nauseous about watching the last episode tonight. I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now... You must be so scared but incredibly jittery!

I'm counting the days until I get to see you again! I want to hear everything that's happened behind the scenes! You know how nosy I am!

I've already taken up two pages so I'll stop for now.

You can do this!

Talk to you soon,

Your favourite person ever

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March 7' 2011

To: You From: Me <3

You called me Angel today...

I don't know what to make of that.

I had so many butterflies in my stomach.

Could you call me that again?

You're my favourite person,

Angel

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November 20' 2011

To: Harry From: Angel

Boo!

You finally let me listen to the full album today! Said you had to be there when I listened to it so you could give me all the secrets. You also wanted to see live how I reacted to every song. You're too cute.

"I Want" is my current favourite.

You did tell me that you'd resonated with a lot of the lyrics you sang on this album. That almost scares me.

How did you relate? Who was going through your mind?

You do have the world at your feet now. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do like having you all to myself. Don't worry I'll get used to sharing...

The Up All Night Tour is starting soon! I'm happy that you've invited me to come to some shows. I'll be there no matter if I have to miss school.

I have to show all these newbies that I'm THE biggest Harry Styles fan out there!

Hopefully, you thought about me while signing.

Because I think about you all the time,

Your favourite fan.

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April 13' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel

G'Day Mate!

So you're officially all the way in Australia now! That's so exciting I wish that you could have stuffed me into your suitcase... sniff

I bet it's super warm there! Or not wait their seasons aren't the same as ours, are they? I'm not even sure...

Hopefully, you can tan a little while you're there! Don't go near any animals or insects!!

I miss you a lot, maybe I'll send this one (spoiler I definitely won't).

Talk to you soon hopefully.

Go swim in the ocean,

Someone who wants to be in it

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August 29' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel?

You haven't come to see me since you've been back.

Too busy being a celebrity?

I've been seeing all these tabloids... I'm not allowed to be jealous I know but I miss you.

I hope you've missed me.

I really really wish you were here with me or that I was with you wherever you are now.

I just want to be us.

Have you forgotten your friend from the small town already?

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January 1' 2013

To: Harry From: Someone You've Hurt

I don't know what to think,

You kissed me. It made me happy.

You said it was a New Year's kiss.

You said you drank too much, it hurt.

You ended up kissing someone else about 20 minutes later.

That hurt even more it almost made me feel used.

I'm happy you were my first kiss.

I don't think you'll even remember it,

Y/N

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November 27' 2014

To: Harry From: Me

I love the new album, took me a while to finally listen to it. I thought you'd come home and make me listen to it in your presence.

You didn't. The first album that I've listened to alone.

Spaces and Fools Gold are my favourite songs. I wonder how many lyrics you resonate with. How many of them did you write?

Come home?

Only for a day please,

Your first Angel

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October 21' 2015

To: Harry From: Y/N

It's been a while,

It's your mom's birthday today. Well only for a few more hours...

She invited my family and me to the party, and of course we went. I didn't think you'd be there. I haven't seen you in almost a year.

It was fun.

Catching up about everything that's been going on with you and the band. Your life is so much more interesting than mine now.

I'm just a boring college student... you're this huge star but that's ok there's no one like you for me, you're my safe place. No matter how far away.

You asked about my love life and I told you about the date I had a few days ago. You asked if we had sex, I lied and said yes. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you no one's ever been with me like that.

We ended up getting drunk. Too drunk.

We fucked.

You took my virginity and you have no idea... should I tell you? You were so good. So gentle, loving but you fucked with a purpose, you needed to get off. I won't ever see your childhood bedroom the same way.

This was only a few hours ago.

I've felt every emotion about it. Now I'm crying because I know you'll find someone new to share a bed with. I'm just a notch in your headboard.

It meant everything to me.

But I think I regret it...

Y/N

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May 12' 2017

To: You From: Me

Really?

I hope Only Angel isn't about me.

But I'm overanalysing every single song. Is one about me? Did you think of me while making this album?

We haven't talked since the last time we saw each other. When we fucked again. It wasn't even the second time, after your mom's birthday two years ago we never stopped. It's all we do when we see each other.

It doesn't make me feel all that much better but I feel like if it wasn't for that we wouldn't even know each other anymore.

I'm moving away this year. Got a job offer in Canada and I'm taking it.

Maybe I'll get over you... hopefully.

I can't live my whole life waiting for someone who I don't know anymore.

I'm blocking your number.

I miss who we used to be,

Your first-ever fan

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December 4' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Hello,

You've crawled your way back into my life, Harry. This morning, you decided to send me your album. Your new one, Fine Line. Your fans haven't even heard it yet. The public hasn't either.

You didn't write a single thing in your email, the mp3 link was staring me down with your automated signature. Not even a greeting.

I shouldn't have listened to it.

I don't know why you sent it to me. We haven't spoken or crossed paths in over a year. Not since I moved and tried to get rid of every way of contact between us.

I still haven't answered, I don't think I will.

You don't get to know what I feel about it. Not anymore.

I'm sorry Harry.

I've moved on,

Y/N

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December 13' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Your new album came out today.

I'm proud of you even if we are strangers now.

You're a superstar.

I always knew you would be,

Y/N

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March 17' 2020

To: H From: Y/N

I saw that you had to postpone your tour.

You must feel so defeated.

I know I do. Everything's been closed and opened and closed again here in Canada. It's getting exhausting.

I hope the world starts working again soon.

This all sucks...

Crossing my fingers for the tour,

Y/N

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May 18' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Hi,

You sent me the album before the release again.

This time you did say something: I miss you Angel, Can we meet up?

I didn't think I could feel so many butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager again. And I cried more than once listening to Harry's House.

I'm still considering if I should answer... if I do what should I choose? Should I agree and go into the unknown or forget it happened and keep on going with my life?

I miss you too... the one I knew. Not the one who used me. I guess I used you too... How did we get here?

All I want is to be loved and to be in love.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for the hurt this will bring but maybe I should just be a grown-up about this...

I want you back in my life.

That scares me,

Y/N

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August 16' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Well,

I'm going to the Love On Tour today and after we are going to "meet". We even have until the 20th because that is when your next show is, after today obviously.

You were so excited when I agreed.

It's almost as if no time has passed when we text (he changed his number in the last few years... no need for an embarrassing unblocking).

My friend, the one who convinced me to agree, helped me pick out an outfit. Thankfully for her, I won't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd of feather boas and cowboy hats.

I really want this to work.

I want to believe that we can be good again. We can be healthy for one another again but I'll be worried until I see you.

Until we speak.

I won't let myself touch you, I have a feeling that it would be far too easy to fall back into a bed. Maybe a hug would be okay.

I'm excited for the show, to see the Superstar Harry Styles in action. After so many years you have to have evolved so much.

You aren't little Harry from Worcestershire anymore.

I'm not the same person I once was either.

See you tonight.

Break a leg,

Y/N