#harry styles designs

[enyasaints]

Rationing Insulin.

I have been rationing my insulin at the expense of my health because I simply do not have the funds to replace pens. As a result my blood sugar has been spiking and staying stagnant at dangerously high levels.

Venmo: EnyaSaint

CA: $Enyasaint

I do not know or want to know what possessed me to ration my medication knowing I could possibly die from it. I haven’t been in my right state of mind in a while.

Currently I am on the medication Toujeo and I am uninsured so I have to pay out of pocket. So I am utilizing GoodRx to get me the cheapest option. I would be so immensly grateful to anyone who could spare towards my medication. I am running dangerously low and I don’t want to die from DKA.

Goal: $365

Venmo: Enyasaint

CA: Enyasaint

[itsnevercasual]

Uptown Girl

pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader

summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious

warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual

-

harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.

you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.

so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.

you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.

it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.

by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.

“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.

you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.

“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”

your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.

great.

“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.

“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.

that makes you feel a bit better.

“y/n, a word in my office please.”

you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office

the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.

“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”

“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“

“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”

you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”

“it better be.”

she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.

you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.

after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.

you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.

mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.

“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.

no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.

the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.

“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.

“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”

“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.

“what was that?”

your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.

“oh. uh.. i was just—“

“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”

“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”

“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.

“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”

you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”

“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”

“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”

he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.

“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“

“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”

at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.

“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”

“that’s the goal,” he nods.

“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”

diane looks ready to kill you.

mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”

your face grows hot.

“she’s a student,” diane sighs.

“a student?” he asks.

“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”

he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.

"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"

your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."

he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."

your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"

"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."

"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."

"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?

"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.

"you may," he eyes her skeptically.

"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"

he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"

you nod.

"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"

you nod again.

he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"

"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."

"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."

-

for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.

after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.

at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.

-

the text came three days later.

From: (Maybe): Harry

Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.

To: Harry Styles

Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?

From: Harry Styles

I'll let you decide.

To: Harry Styles

There is this one coffee shop named Maman?

Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY

From: Harry Styles

Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.

To: Harry Styles

You too!

-

you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.

you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.

you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.

harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.

-

really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.

he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.

so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.

sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.

"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.

"good morning. did you order?"

"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."

you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"

you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.

"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"

"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."

you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."

"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."

you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."

"oh, is it now?"

"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.

"lemme have a taste."

you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"

"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.

“that you are.”

“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”

he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.

“so, how long have you been designing?”

“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”

“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”

you nod. he grins.

“may i see the sketches?”

you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.

he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.

“..so?” you ask.

“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.

you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”

you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.

he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.

“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”

his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”

you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”

“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” you blush.

“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”

“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”

he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”

“i don’t think i’m that good—“

“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.

-

a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭

[vkeyqqq]

[Star SoulmateS🌙]

They were called "SSS" 🤗🤗

[meltingfin1]

I present to you, Louis Tomlinson's tattooed hands

All credits to picture owners

[flaxygo]

Yeah

[389]

Josh O'Connor for Arena HOMME+ Photographed by Esther Theaker Styled by Harry Lambert

[vkeyqqq]

🚬🪬🌖

« Remus rolled cigarettes himself and despite the fact that there were not many left, he could never refuse Sirius.. »

(Please click on the picture to make the quality better🙏🙏🙏)

I AM NOT CALLING FOR ANYTHING AND I AM NOT PROMOTING ANYTHING〰️

[theygotlost]

Disco Elysium political alignments based on historical graphic design styles!

Communist: Soviet Constructivist

Ultraliberal: Art Deco

Fascist: War Propaganda

Moralist: Swiss/International

[goldenbuckyyy]

YOU’RE ALL I WANT

Summary: You and Harry finally reconnect.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7kish

Warnings: Over 3k of smut!! Oral (fem! & male!receiving), fingering, allure to squirting, raw sex, creampie, slight fem!reader!Dom/subrry vibes if you squint!! 🤏🏻

A/N: Hi!! Sorry this has taken so long! The holidays were very crazy and work has been… just as crazy as always! But she’s here and I hope you love her as much as I do.. because I love her!! I’m also going to be tagging anybody who mention needing part 2 since it’s been a while!! Also, this is probably the last part! Song title inspo: “You’re all I want” by Cigarettes After Sex

Divider is by @silkholland!! I love your divider so much! Thank you for allowing us to use them. 🫶🏻

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

PART 1 || Main Masterlist

May 20th, 2022. 

You tapped your fingers on your countertop as you watched the time slowly trickle by. 

3:03PM. 

Watching how slow the time was going felt almost agonizing. 

You let out a groan as you felt as if time had never gone by any slower. You were still in your pajamas, sipping on your door dashed iced latte, stomach still full of your late morning breakfast, and you felt nervous. Nauseated, almost. 

So nervous about seeing Harry tonight that you almost wanted to throw up. And you knew you didn’t have to feel this nervous, but it’s been almost a year that you haven’t seen him. It’s normal to feel this way. You can’t help it. 

Harry’s album had already been out since midnight and you had to physically restrain yourself from listening to it. You wanted tonight to be the first night you listened to all of his new songs. 

Either way, you knew they were going to be amazing. 

You had also already chosen your outfit for the night. Which surprisingly had taken you so long to put together. 

Simply because you wanted to look your absolute best tonight. 

You searched throughout Twitter for concert inspiration and for any ideas that would help you. You knew fashion. You worked in fashion. You had your own famous fashion line and you still had no idea what to wear to this concert. 

You’ve been to plenty of his concerts before. You even remember the outfits you wore to one direction concerts and it secretly made you cringe. Flashbacks of textured shorts and frail crop tops fill your mind. 

But now.. now you wanted to surprise him and feel good. It’s been way too long since you had seen Harry's face and you missed him. 

So, you did what you do best and you made your own outfit. 

You ended up making a black jumpsuit with an amazing sequin fabric which covered every inch of it. It was long enough to pair with your favorite platform heeled boots that were comfy enough to be standing a long period of time in. You made the top of the jumpsuit have a cross neck fixture with a triangle opening right underneath your sternum and you made the back to match. 

Now, it was just time for the clock to strike five for you to start to get ready. 

So, here you are. Fiddling with your phone to try and pass the time faster. 

You hop off the stool and move to your private sunroom in your penthouse that overlooks the river. You bask in the sun on your skin and wonder how tonight will go. 

Hopefully everything goes well and Harry’s only expression when he sees you is happiness. 

You can only hope. 

You tug on your oversized silk blazer as you walk down the backstage hallway of MSG with Jeff by your side. 

“Harry might shit himself when he sees you,” Jeff says to you with wild eyes and a loud laugh as you try and match his fast pace down the hall. 

You let out your own nervous one as you fix your hair for the millionth time as you follow him. 

“Don’t worry. I just might, too.” 

You weren’t lying. You genuinely felt sick to your stomach. You had decided to wait until you knew that Harry would already be almost going on to text Jeff that you were waiting at the back entrance for him. Just so he wouldn’t be able to tell Harry you were here. 

“The concert already started, but don’t freak. It just started,” Jeff says casually as you start to see the flashing lights from behind the curtain. 

You still for a second right before you pass the curtain to let out a shaky breath. Reminding yourself to calm down. That it’s only Harry. 

Jeff’s hands are suddenly touching your shoulders and he’s giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be happy to see you. Trust me.” 

You nod quickly and your senses are suddenly filled with loud screams. Thousands and thousands of people screaming for Harry. For your Harry and it makes your heart warm. 

You follow Jeff to the side of the main stage behind a barricade, but in perfect view of Harry. And your eyes start to water as soon as you see him. 

He’s wearing an adorable white shirt that’s lined with red hearts, black leather figure hugging pants, red sneakers, and a big chunky yellow necklace. 

You cover your mouth to hold in your own cry, quickly shaking off the nerves as you settle into the spot next to Jeff, and you zone out as you admire Harry in his zone. 

The way the music completely takes over his body and his actions. The way you can tell he lets the music get into his bones by the way he lets it take over and how he dances. The way he lets himself be free in a room filled with people that love him. People that you know he loves. His fans. His wonderful, amazing, love filled fans. 

The way he smiles, laughs, and giggles so hard his dimples end up showing. And how he looks so freaking happy it makes you want to burst into tears. 

You can easily tell this is his favorite thing to do. Just by looking at him. He’s the type of person that you can just watch and admire because everything he does leaves you in awe. 

And that’s exactly how you feel. 

Then, at the right moment when he’s prancing around the stage, and running on your side of the stage.. he glances down to look at Jeff and then he sees you. 

You both lock eyes at the same time and he trips on his own feet, halting in front of you, and the screaming only intensifies when he breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him all night. 

His hands immediately go to his heart and you see his eyes water as you smile back at him with matching watery eyes. He reaches for you with a small “Hi” leaving his lips and you mouth it back. You can tell he wants to say something else, but he quickly shakes his head with a grin and goes back to dancing around the stage. 

You can hear fans calling out your name from around you as now they’ve noticed you. You look around, giving a small wave at the fans near you, and they shriek when you look at them. 

You blush under their gazes as it never gets any less weird for you that people actually know who you are. But feeling grateful nonetheless. 

Harry makes his way to your corner of the stage after he sings probably the saddest song you’ve ever heard and smiles at you as he settles himself with the microphone stand. 

“Now this next song… this next song is incredibly special to me. One of my favorites actually. And…” he pauses and takes in a shaky breath. “The person who inspired this song is actually here tonight.” 

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheers surrounding your entire body. You feel lightheaded as you watch Harry on stage. 

Watching you. 

He gives you a small smile and continues, “This person.. has been my best friend for almost a decade now. We actually met at a Halloween party many many years ago. Her best friend is actually the person I spilled my beer on,” you both chuckle at his words, “I’m getting off track here. But I just want to say that this person is the one person that I absolutely adore. I adore her, I admire her, I respect her, I recognize her, and I love her.” His voice cracks at the last couple of words, his bottom lip quivering and his chin caving in, and tears pool his eyes. 

Your eyes are filled with tears at hearing his speech to you and knowing that this is showing his vulnerable side. Which he has always struggled with. You clamp your hands together against your chin as you only smile up at him. 

“This is ‘Little Freak’,” he says into the mic as the band starts playing a soft melody. 

The first lyrics remind me of the incident in Italy last year and your heart silently hurts. You grip onto the railing in front of you as you listen closely to each lyric. 

Finding yourself relating to each word and wanting to pull Harry into your embrace.

Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend.. I’m not sorry. 

You chuckle as you sniffle while slow tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away. You watch him in awe as you hear everybody singing along to the lyrics. To a song that came out less than twenty four hours ago. 

I disrespected you

Jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard

A broken ankle, karma rules

You never saw my birthmark

Okay. Maybe this is the saddest song you’ve ever heard. Harry holds out the microphone to his fans and gets overwhelmed when they’re singing back his lyrics so loudly. You laugh with joy at how happy he is. 

“Thank you so much,” he says into the microphone with his voice wavering, but sounding so grateful. 

Just thinkin' about you

He finishes singing the last lyric and he looks over at you with a smile. You smile back with a thumbs up and his dimples show. 

The rest of the concert goes by so quickly you can’t even believe it’s been almost two hours since he started. 

Every single one of his songs feels connected to you in some way and you wonder if you were in Harry’s thoughts when he wrote this album. You know ‘Little Freak’ is about you since he practically dedicated it to you before he sang it.. but you wonder about the rest. 

A part of you doesn’t want to know. 

Jeff is by your side as soon as Harry runs off the stage after doing his famous ‘Whale’ and glancing at you quickly. 

Jeff wraps his arm around your shoulder, with a smile, he asks, “What’d you think?” 

“He’s incredible.”

“That’s our boy.”

You hum in agreement and you both walk off backstage to the chaos that is the loud voices of people congratulating the band and Harry on a brilliant performance. 

You stand in the background, watching Harry take each compliment with grace, a shake of each person's hand, and a dimpled smile on his face. 

You watch him carefully, bouncing on your heeled boots, heart racing, fingers aching to feel Harry’s skin, and your body trying not to reach for him. 

You smile softly when you notice his eyes searching the room and then they land on you. His expression changes to a mix of glowing happiness and absolute joy. He looks like a little kid that just got offered a lollipop at the dentist. 

He politely excuses himself from the group he had just thanked and hastily makes his way towards you. 

You open your arms to him on instinct, “Hi.” 

His arms engulf you into his space, completely tucking you into his body, and you feel complete. His hands wrap around your torso, underneath your blazer, touching your skin, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your faces squeezing into each other’s necks and he whispers a breathy, “Hi.” 

You melt into his embrace, smelling his cinnamon roll hair styling crème that he still uses, and it brings back a decade of memories for you. His strong arms squeeze you as he lifts you up off your toes and you can hear him inhaling your scent. 

“God, I’ve missed you.” 

You chuckle into his neck, “Me more.” 

You both pull away at the same time, staring at each other, and you place your hand on his cheek. He leans into it with a small smile, beautiful glossy green eyes staring into yours, and you thumb his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, H.” You confess with a soft tone, trying to hold your voice steady while your heart races inside of your chest. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that messed up, but.. c’mon.” He wraps his hand in yours, giving Jeff a small signal, and he starts to walk off towards his dressing room. 

He leads you into the big dim-lighted room, shutting the door behind you, and locking it for privacy. 

You stay in front of him, glancing at him and trying to see if you notice anything different about it. 

But he’s still the same Harry. Right in front of you. Finally. 

He pulls two cold waters from the mini fridge and hands one to you as he leads you both to the couch. You get comfortable as he kicks off his shoes, leaning into the green couch, and planting his feet on top of the coffee table. You sit back and admire him for a second before drinking some water.

After a moment of silence, he asks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Missed you tho.” 

He smiles as he tucks his chin into his chest, arms crossing over his chest, “I did, too. More than you can imagine.” 

“Yeah?” You question, playing with the rings on your fingers, and you look at him from underneath your lashes. 

“Come here,” he says as he reaches for your hand. Your insides turn and you let him pull you into his lap. Your breathing hitches as he stares at your face, taking you in, and then his eyes land on your lips. 

“Of course I’ve missed you. You’re my best friend,” he whispers into you as he slowly leans in and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to touch yours. 

“Do you still want me?” You blurt out bluntly, your eyes going wide, and you suddenly feel weak. You feel vulnerable. Insecure. 

Harry tenses in front of you, his eyes going wide, and he searches for words. But nothing comes out. His eyebrows furr in confusion, “What? How-I… Are you serious? I was about to kiss you..” 

You look down, ashamed at your question, and you feel him pull your face back up to meet his own eyes with his thumb. 

“How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you?” 

His eyes are sincere and full of concern. His body leans into yours, his arms that are holding you only grow tighter, and you wrap your arms around his neck limply. 

You lean into his touch and try to smile. Your lips wavering when you say, “I.. I ignored you for months.” 

“You had your reasons. I was awful to you. I said mean words to you that I should have taken back as soon as I had spoken them. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

His thumb caresses your cheek as you nod at him. 

“I’m still sorry,” you say again as you kiss the inside of his palm. 

“I have always wanted you.”

“What?” You say with a grin as he matches your own.

“I, Harry Styles, have always wanted you, Y/N L/N. Ever since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on and you continue being so.” 

You let out a watery laugh as tears prick your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Stop! You’re making me cry!” You both laugh together as he places a big smooch on your cheek. 

You giggle as he slowly starts to kiss your cheek and makes his way down to your lips. 

His hands are holding your face when he leans back and asks you, “Can I kiss you?” 

Before you can even finish nodding, his lips are on yours. 

His lips feel soft and warm against yours. You both held your breath as he waited for you to respond to his kiss, his lips on yours, but full of hesitation. 

You relax into his hands, letting yourself finally kiss him back, and a feeling of euphoria fills your body. You both moan into the kiss, tilting your heads for better access, and you pull at each other to feel closer together. He slides off your blazer and touches your naked arms, moaning at feeling your skin against his own. 

Your tongue fights with Harry’s and you suck on his bottom lip with a moan. Your hands moving from the back of his warm neck to his curly hair, tugging at the roots, and filling with content when he groans into your mouth. 

Harry lets go of your face and he’s moving your body over his own, adjusting himself onto the couch, and you plant yourself down on his hips. Feeling his hardening bulge against your core makes you feel hot. Your core aching in want and you grind against him. 

You both meet again in the middle and kiss, lips lapping against each other, open mouthed moans, and pants filling the room. Slow hips grinding against each other. 

In the rush of probably the hottest way you’ve ever kissed someone, he’s suddenly pulling away from your body completely. 

Leaving your body aching for his touch and your skin feeling burned as his hands leave your waist. 

You’re suddenly filled with confusion, furring your eyebrows, and peering up at H. 

“What’s going on? Why’d you stop?” You pant out as you try to catch your breath. 

H looks like he’s torn between a million emotions as he clutches his eyes in distress, a heavy breathe escaping his lips, and he’s shaking his head. Then.. he chuckles. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this..” 

Your heart stops. 

“But.. I don’t want our first time to be like this.” 

Oh. 

“Oh?” You question with a small smile as you sit up on his lap, adjusting your jumpsuit straps around your neck, and he’s leaning against the back of the couch… looking so adorable. 

He looks almost shy right now and he blushes under your gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says as he reaches for your hand and you let him. “I want our first time to be special. I want it to be in my bed or yours. And I want it…I just.. I don’t want to fuck you in this dressing room. I mean—“ 

You cut him off as your cheeks flush down to your neck at his words, “I have an apartment here.” 

His eyebrows spike up in shock as he looks simultaneously confused, shocked, and you can tell he’s hurt that he doesn’t know about this major change in your life. You reach for his hand and squeeze it when he immediately grips onto yours. Trying to reassure him with your touch. 

“Since when?” 

“Fairly recent,” you say with a small smile playing on your sinful lips. 

“Where?” 

“The Copper,” you say with a glint of enthusiasm and he only matches you. Like always. 

“You got an apartment there?” His eyes glint with a look of pride. 

“I got the penthouse.” 

The second that you both walk into your penthouse, Harry’s mouth and hands are on you. And you’re not complaining. 

You throw off your blazer at the same time he kicks off his shoes. 

His hands are all over the parts of your skin that isn’t covered and he stops when he finds the clasp around your neck. He swiftly unhooks your jumpsuit and you feel it fall over your shoulders and down your chest. Your breasts are now exposed and you feet the cold air brush against your nipples. Perking them up and making you gasp in pleasure. 

He tugs on your jumpsuit which makes it pull around your waist and his hands move onto your breasts. He moans into your mouth when he feels them naked since you’re not wearing a bra or pasties. He thumbs your nipples and you whimper into him, licking the roof of his mouth, and sliding your hands underneath his shirt. 

He manages to shove you against your couch and you both tumble on it, giggling into the kiss, and his hands are around your body to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. 

You giggle as he kisses you, which only makes him giggle with you, and then you’re laying down on your couch. You pull away from him when you feel him get on his knees in front of you. 

He slowly slides his hands underneath your jumpsuit, unzipping your boots, and tossing them to the floor. His eyes are only on you. 

You watch him with want as he slips off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and you shimmy out of your jumpsuit. Tugging off your black thong with it. 

Harry's lips are on yours again and he’s hungry. Kissing you deeply, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own, both moaning and panting, aching for each other, and he’s reaching down to unzip his pants. 

Harry’s hands suddenly are off of your hips and his lips leave your own. You whine as you feel him pull away from you and you quickly open your eyes to watch him as he’s watching you, now sitting on his knees on the couch, and his eyes never leave yours. 

He slowly lets his eyes wander down your naked body, fully taking in that this is the first time he’s ever seen you naked, and it makes you ache in ways you’ve never ached before. Makes your skin break out into goosebumps at the mere sight of him taking you in. 

He stands up, shoving off his leather pants and his red briefs, and his long, thick dick makes an appearance. Your eyes go wide as you look at him, the first time truly looking at his dick, and your pussy only clenches with desire at the same time your mouth waters with want. 

His dick is beautiful. Long, thick, and looking juicy. And waiting to fuck you up. His tip is leaking pre-cum already and it bounces with every movement he makes. He moves back to where he was sitting on his knees on the couch, admiring you as you admire him. 

“Fuck,” he mutters out as he wipes his face with his hands before he sets them down on your ankles. 

“What is it?” You whisper as you move your legs to open up in front of him, feeling your wetness coat your inner thighs, and he bites his bottom lip. His dick twitching in all its hardened glory. He’s almost fully leaking from the tip of his dick. 

“You… are beautiful. Breathtaking.. and this is the first time I see you naked. I just wanna admire you,” he says as he pulls your ankle to his shoulder and kisses your shin. You smile as you let yourself spread out more for him as he starts kissing up your legs slowly and sinfully. 

Your breathing hitches as he gets closer to your center, you're already antsy when he stops in your inner thigh, kissing both of them, licking them, and sucking small love bites onto them. 

You massage your breasts as you lean your head down to get a better look at him. 

“You’re glistening,” he mutters against your thigh, kissing right next to your aching pussy. You can help but moan out in want and anticipation. Your hips are getting a mind of their own as you try to hitch them towards his mouth and his eyes move towards yours. 

“So inpatient,” he says as his cold fingers are suddenly touching your wet lips, pulling them open, and he spreads you to his liking. 

“Oh my god,” you moan out at the sensation that overcomes your entire body at Harry finally touching you. 

He moves himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs down on each side, and he lets his tongue slowly lick your pussy. You clench around him, you can’t fully believe that this is happening right now, and you twist your nipples in between your fingers. You tilt your head back in a pant when Harry slips two fingers inside of you. 

“Fuck,” he groans out as he curves his fingers inside of you and your pussy only tightens around them. Your breathing has picked up and you can hear how absolutely drenched you are by the sound his fingers are making as he moves them in and out of your pussy. 

Harry seems to only fuel himself more with your moans and panting because you feel him start to devour you. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick you from the bottom of your folds all the way to your clit where he swivels his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth gently. The bundle of nerves makes the pit of your belly harden in pleasure, your back curving upwards, and your hands move into his curls to hold onto something. Anything. 

You moan out his name when his fingers start thrusting inside of you, in and out. In and out. And then he picks up his pace, slightly, but making a big difference in how it fuels your impending orgasm. 

His fingers continue to fuck you, his mouth devouring you, and his tongue is torturing you. In every possible way. You know this is going to be the best sex of your life. You know you’ll never be able to move on from this. You hope Harry will feel the same way, too. 

His mouth moves skillfully against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit in all the best ways, and you can feel the pressure slowly building up in your lower stomach. 

Harry sucks onto your clit, making your legs start to shake slightly, and he inserts a third finger into you. You cry out in pleasure, your body feeling like it’s on fire, your skin is glistening with sweat, and you start to move your hips to match the pace of his mouth. 

He doesn’t stop his movements. He only keeps going. His fingers fucking you like heaven, his moans sending shockwaves through your body, and then.. he moves his tongue into the right spot on your clit which makes you absolutely explode from underneath him. 

You yell out his name, so loud that if you actually had neighbors on this floor, you’d be scared they’d come banging on your door for being so damn loud, and your eyes prick with tears from the amazing orgasm that overtakes you. 

Your toes curl into the couch, fingers gripping onto his curls, entire body clenching and then releasing as you feel yourself soaking Harry's mouth and fingers, and he’s lapping up every single drop of your release. Moaning as you can see his thighs grinding into the couch. 

You don’t even let your body come down from the high when you’re hastily moving from being underneath Harry to being on top of him, straddling him, and kissing him hard. Sucking his lips into yours and moaning when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

You kiss him for a couple seconds before you move down his stomach, licking his butterfly tattoo, sucking a couple love bites on his abs, and letting yourself make eye contact with him the entire time. 

His pupils are blown out, lips plump and swollen, cheeks flushed bright pink, and he looks fucked. 

“Fuck,” he pants out, his voice raspy and blissed out. And he can’t even react before you’re taking in his aching dick into your mouth. Fully deep-throating him that the tip is curving into the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you keep eye contact with him, your hands holding yourself steady against his fern tattoos, and his hands grip into your loose hair. 

“Holy shit! You’re fucking-I-you’re fucking taking me all the way, baby!” 

You preen at his words, bobbing your head on his dick, pulling up slowly to let your tongue lap over his tip, sucking off the pre-cum into your mouth, and moaning so that he feels every vibration in your throat on his dick. You can feel his dick twitching in pleasure inside of your mouth and it only fuels you to be better. You pick up your pace, nails digging into his hips, lapping him up, and everytime you go all the way down, you let your tongue lick his balls too. 

Harry suddenly pulls your face off his dick and you whimper at the disconnection. You look at him with big, blown out pupils, and a stream of saliva connecting your lips with his dick. 

He groans as his hands move down to your breasts, pinching your nipples, and then he thumbs your swollen lower lip to wipe off the mess. 

“‘M gonna cum if you keep suckin’ me off like that, honey.” His voice is breathless as he cups your face, pulling you up easily, and connecting your lips with his. Your wet core lands on his fat, aching dick, and you already need him inside of you. 

You’re aching for him.

You kiss each other roughly, hands all over each other, and you start hitching your hips higher trying to align yourself with his dick. You can feel his dick fluttering in between your folds, wetting him up even more, and then you feel your opening align with his dick. You shift your hips a little bit more and you feel the head of his dick right where you want him. 

You lower down onto his pulsating dick and he groans into your mouth. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you steady as you try to lower yourself more, only being halfway. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight right now. So fucking tight, give me a second..” He moans even louder as he allows you to lower yourself even more until your pelvis meets his own. You steady yourself on his chest, tightening your arms against your breast, and smiling wickedly at Harry’s expression which only shows pleasure. 

You slowly start to move against his hips, slowly bouncing on his dick as his tight grip on your hips help you move, and you can feel how desperate he is for you. How much he’s wanted this. How much you’ve been wanting this. 

He slowly starts moving his hips underneath you, quickly changing the pace from slow and sultry to fast and rough. The sound of slapping skin fills the entire penthouse, your moans mixing with his own, and your hands are touching him everywhere. 

“You feel so good,” you whimper out to him as you lick the curves of his neck as he pulls you into his chest as he hitches his hips to fuck into you like this. 

“You were made for me,” he whimpers back as his arms wrap around your waist. 

His thrust only increases in speed in this position. His dick filling you up completely, like nobody ever has, touching every inch of your walls, and your wetness only allows him to fuck into you faster. 

You feel the familiar feeling building up in your belly, you lick and suck his earlobe, “I’m so close.” 

He quickly turns you over, so that your body is laying on the couch now, his dick never exiting you, and now he hitches your legs to wrap around his waist. He presses down against our belly and it only fuels your climax. 

“Oh my fuckin’—” you cry out as you feel Harry fucking you hard and him pushing against your cervix seems to increase the sensations. 

“Feel me up here, huh?” He groans out as he continues to push into you at a rough speed which you can only nod, feeling absolutely fucked, and he moves his free hand to your clit. Moving his thumb in circles roughly against it which triggers your orgasm. 

You clench around his dick, crying out loud, your entire body breaking out into goosebumps, and instant satisfaction floods you. You tighten your legs around Harry, pulling him into you, waiting for him to cum too, and he’s looking like a fucking god above you. 

His curls falling around his face, sweat glistening his toned body and his forehead, fucked out, bright flushed pink cheeks, and you don’t know what comes over you… 

You reach forward as he fucks you and you place your hand aound his neck, holding the sides, avoiding the center, and his eyes go wide. 

His eyes instantly meet yours and his lips part in shock. And you keep moving your body against his, letting him use you completely, and then.. you squeeze around his neck. 

His eyes roll back into his head, biting his bottom lip, fucking you rough and hard, and you know he’s about to cum. You squeeze his throat harder and your free hand reaches underneath his neck to tug his curls. 

He lets out the loudest, gut-wrenching moan of the night, and his thrusts start turning animalistic, when he yells out, “Fuckkk!!” 

He continues to thrust into you as he reaches his peak, filling you up completely, and you both are a panting mess as you both start coming down from your orgasms. 

Harry flops onto your chest, but holding himself up with his forearms on your sides. You giggle as you can still feel his dick inside of you, but you wrap your arms around his neck. 

He lifts his head, panting, and eyes glistening. He smiles at you, bunny teeth showing, and dimples carving his cheeks. 

“That was…” he stops as if he can’t even find the words, but who are you kidding? You can’t either. 

“It was,” you agree as you kiss his forehead. 

“That was very much long overdue,” he states with a teasing grin and you playfully pinch his forearm. He laughs into your neck before giving you a soft kiss. 

“How long are you here for?” You ask, not really wanting to ask, but you know you should. 

“I’m here as long as you are.”

You furr your eyebrows in confusion, lips parting with a question, and he shushes you. 

“I’m not letting you leave my sight ever again.”

He places a million kisses over your face, you swat him away with giggles, and then hold his face in your hands. Eyes locking. 

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” You tease.

“Shit, I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.” 

Your eyes glint with amusement and so do his. 

“Who says I wouldn’t?” You whisper at him, playing with his curls in your fingers. And he attacks you with another million kisses. 

You could get used to this. 

And you think you just might. 

“So, where’s that secret birthmark of yours?” 

-

@that-daydream-look @harrysfolklore @b-reads-things @tbslnightly @noseyrosey1597 @alwayslovingharry @alreadyjackbestfriend @cevansssss @1cedteaa @feestyles @you-sunshine @awesomebooklover17 @aruima

[graveyardfullofstars]

🕊Dame Maggie Smith RIP