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smuttyaf · 8 months ago

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The Ultimatum

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩.

wc; 14.2k | fifth part to the business

i can’t express how much i appreciate the love i’ve been getting from the series! so because of that, i decided to combine two parts together for this post (teehee) that means extra manipulative!h & extra smut. i hope you all enjoy!

tw: gaslighting, coercion, degradation, tad bit of edging, and bdsm. don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Is it conceited for you to embrace the stares that wander over your appearance?

Men fit in muted suits and twinkling time pieces, letting their adventurous eyes drink in every stride of you entering the lively scenery. Cleavage bouncing with each step held by the floral stitched dress gracing your body in all the right places; slit down one side to reveal your smooth legs and expensive heels.

The warmth of Harry’s hand nestled along your waist has greedy eyes stab jealous daggers with each passing movement in the room. You can’t help the smirk that tugs along your lips. Even if all these men's eyes are set on you, Harry is the one who loves your look the most just as much as you love all his strategic ways.

The familiar scent of his cologne relaxes every nerve from being around his magnetic presence. He moves through the room with grace, head bowing every few moments acknowledging acquaintances and colleagues. Every stretch of skin over Harry drips class and elegance, from his styled curls to Saint Laurent suit, all you can do is admire him.

He clears his throat to draw your attention to him, peeling your chair open with eyes twinkling as you take your seat and let him position you better along the table.

Your gaze surveys the group of men before you, stern faces with loose smirks, it has knots tightening in your stomach. Harry's body rumbles next to you, turning your focus to him with a timid smile, your shy expression has his eye dropping into a wink, hands clasping together looking towards the men.

“Finally! He shows up!”

The circle breaks into laughter, you join in faintly at the sound. There’s a dealer set in the middle of the table continuing to shuffle the deck while distant chatter still fills your ears. Shoulders relax against the cushions of the stool, fingers curving over your pouch as your tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“C’mon, you know this city and it’s shit traffic,” Harry counters, fixing his cuff links while his feet rustle against the chair legs.

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Sneaky grin shining from the man parallel to you who stares at Harry.

The undertone of his comment sends blood to course furiously, cheeks beginning to warm as you sit up straighter in your chair, eyes trailing to the poker chips littering the table in different colours. It distracts the sound of Harry kissing his teeth with his hands drumming against the cushions of the decorative spread.

“Enough, are we playing or what?” He avoids, eyebrows peering up at the ginger employee shuffling the deck of cards.

“I’ll go for another round, how bout’ you Gio?” Bald man with tattoos all over his scalp looks towards the man at the end of the table.

He shrugs in return, his hand raising up for a waitress to trail towards the group. A bouncy brunette appears as Gio looks around the table.

“Marcallan for the men… and you darling, what would you like?” Nervous smile spreads on your lips from being addressed. Finger reaching behind your ear to tuck hair away, sight flicking between Harry and his friend.

“Anything from the Château line, please.” Smiling at him and the waitress, Gio runs his tongue over his teeth as he nods his head.

“And that wine for the lady, thank you dear.” Hand going into his breast pocket, pulling bills out and gracing it to her.

Your eyes turn back towards Harry, he nods his head towards Gio, appreciation caught in their gaze before they’re looking towards cards flying across the table for their own deck.

“I’m feeling lucky tonight,” Harry cracks, arms slinging along the spread with a charming smile looking over his group of friends.

“I wouldn’t speak so soon,” Slim man with long nose twirls his empty glass of ice cubes, cheery grin spread along his features.

“Yeah, so far Johnny is leading this,” Deep voice of the pudgy man next to Harry laughs. It barks in grunting breaths with his face going red. Your view on your boyfriend whose expression reads disdain.

The snicker next to you breaks your attention. Short black hair gelled with hazel eyes dancing in the light, his smirk is sinister being satisfied with his winning streak. Gaze catches with yours, looking over your features with his tongue peeking out and running across his lip. The exchange stirs your sight to Harry, nails curling into the leather of your bag swallowing heavily.

You didn’t know what to expect when Harry invited you to this fundraiser for the evening, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Italian accents and expensive apparel hold your vision when you look around the table. Whether silver and gold shine off their bodies, every peek of their appearance radiates money. All men are groomed and styled with sophistication that adds to the ambiance of the room.

Voluminous jewels hang off the chandelier, waiters walk around holding trays of food or flutes of champagne, guests roaming amongst the floor carrying the flow of the party. The scene is one of glitz and glamor; sparkling liquor, upbeat band, and everyone dressed to the nines.

It’s a beautiful sight of the finer things in life, women flashing their magnificent accessories while men flaunt their luxurious suits and polished dress shoes. A breathless sigh slips past your lips with spine flexing recognizing people from local television.

Despite working at Jasper’s and always encountering famous men, you never got used to them being in your presence. Even if it was dancing for them, the fact you either grew up watching them on the big screen or just reading about them in the weekly news, it still surprises you how you’re able to surround yourself with popular figures.

“Gonna introduce us to your friend here?” Voice beside yourself questions. It rings your ears as your focus remains on the green table.

“Right? Styles, where are your manners?” Teasing tone adding into the space. The attention being on you stirs your heart to pick up in pace, shaky fingers and fluttering lashes look back up at the group.

“This is Y/N, my girlfriend,” Harry's hand finds itself on your naked thigh, sight looking over your timid frame as he smoothes it down the expanse while all the men study your appearance. “So don’t stare too long.”

The night unfolds with drinks flowing and locker room chatter, nasty jokes with suggestive winks leave the poker table a roaring mess. Amused hands clapping at men winning more money or spilling humor. Your once darting eyes and racing heart calms down, acknowledging every word spoken and laughing at every dirty pun. It’s relieving how funny and easy-going the group of his friends are, they carry you into conversations and even get you to join the game.

With the alcohol running through your system it has the hours spent at the party go by in a breeze. Harry’s touch nestles itself by your side, view checking on you enjoying yourself. His reassuring touch and attentive demeanor increases the affection between you, it has you smiling at him genuinely throughout the party appreciating him.

But beside those nurturing moments, you learn in the hours spent over colourful chips and liquor more about the men Harry involves himself with. What you grasp from their innuendos are gruesome jokes about beating someone to the bone or how pleasing it is to see their oppositions dead. Your heart swells with sadness, not only that they find it funny but that Harry was laughing along. It wasn’t amusing to you as it was to him.

That would be the moment you drown out the truth and toss back the rest of your wine, and by the time the glass touches the coaster Harry orders another, pleased you’re compliant with the conversation. Deflecting gaze and clenching heart wanders amongst the mingling people and jazz band. It’s in your tispy state you notice luring eyes of women set on Harry, drinking him in with all his glory that it sends a surge of jealousy through you. Fingers tighten around his as your sight focuses back on him, glossy eyes and straight teeth shine with ignorance about the brutal truth of the relationship.

By the time you’re on your fourth glass, the group settles into calm crackles of past memories; whether it’s about stumbling upon a glory hole or reminiscing about life back in Italy, it subsides your slow pacing heart from the previous conversation.

“So I’m tired right, I got blood gushing from my head and I just busted my ass four blocks to get to Harry’s. I barge into his place, he’s there with Kenzo and Charlie watching sports, you know how this man is always watching sports right!” You giggle in amusement invested with the story.

“And I tell him; I need your help, I can’t tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we’re gonna hurt some people, and Harry, completely unfazed as ever goes, whose car are we taking?” The group erupts in laughter, as the man you learn to be Mateo, recounts his story.

Harry laughs with nails scratching against your skin, the view of him soothes yourself with warmth adoring him. Curls in waves combine with his amused laughter, skin folding by his eyes completely entertained with the story. The rowdy laughter carries on until there’s someone patting on his shoulder, salt and pepper roots with thick beard catching your sight.

“Styles! Nice to see you!”

Your jaw immediately tenses, nose wrinkles and cheeks blossom under the lights. Teeth clench down on each other as your heart begins to burn, this certainly wasn’t someone you expected to see tonight. Christian Bale in front of you and shaking Harry’s hand as if…

“Christian!” Harry cheers, going to greet him. At the same time his grip tightens around your knee your fingers trail towards your mouth, teeth nibbling on your nail with nerves raking through.

It’s in your movement that your familiar client catches your eyes, flash of surprise crossing his features before a pleased smile spreads.

“Where are you going? Stay for a game,” Harry chimes, hand gesturing to the poker table. The fact he’s even proposing that causes your fingers to curl into his anxiously.

The gesture is noticeable to him with gaze surveying your nervous appearance, before looking back to Christian who shakes his head.

“No, no, I was just on my way out.” Nodding towards the exit doors. Decline of the offer has Harry bow his head in acknowledgment, straightening up in his chair. “It was nice to see you before our meeting.”

“Likewise, get home safe.” Harry concludes the conversation with a genuine smile.

You’re extremely grateful that he passes up on the offer as he leaves towards the exit. Shallow breaths course through, searching eyes watch with teeth tearing away from acrylic, you draw your hand down and share a passive smile.

If you could wipe the sweat that trickles down your temple as if an sitcom, you would. Your heart never stops its thundering beats, discovering your boyfriend and regular client being friends? Colleagues? Whatever it is, it doesn’t sever the ache that grows in your chest.

“I think we should call it a night too,” Harry wonders, head twisting to look at you with a charming smile. “How does that sound?”

With the amount of liquor in your system and having witness that scene before you, the need to feel your blankets and its comforting material is one you pleasantly desire. The ends of your lips twist upwards as you nod.

So, a few minutes after Harry orders the valet for his Porsche you both bid the group farewells. Each man stands shaking Harry’s hand while they bring you in for a hug, respectable actions that leave you fond of the gesture.

The drive back to his penthouse is small talk about how the night went and if you enjoyed yourself. In the quiet space, your sight is caught on the moving buildings passing by in blurs, mind stuck on Mr. Bale while your voice conceals the uneasiness coursing through.

Christian has been your client for two years now, you see him every other week if he’s not on vacation or filming. Despite him being your regular, there is a cordial connection between you both; times he will confess to you problems in his life after too many drinks, or respecting your decision to not push the boundaries of your work position. Even though there’s a non-disclosure agreement binding the both of you, should you tell Harry your relationship with him?

The thoughts brewing are ones that have your back ruffling against the leather seats. How many of your other clients are connected to Harry? You’re so dizzy from the alcohol in your system, you can’t recall if you glazed over any at the party. But it doesn’t even matter in the end, you’re in distress regardless, the possibility of your clients having connections with him but don’t know who you belong to as they watch you dance. A shiver of guilt courses through.

By the time you get home, Harry and you undress and slip between the arms of each other, and by the time he’s completely wrapped up in you, you forget the man that races your mind. In the morning, Harry is already out the door leaving you to wander around his penthouse all afternoon before heading to your own home, caring for Cleo until it’s time to get ready for work.

Your week goes back to what it regularly is; upkeep of your appearance, different decorative robe, and withering under Harry’s touch. It completely slips your mind about your encounter with Christian, going about your life smiling at the postman from another bouquet or spending your time lodging around Harry’s living room until he gets home.

It’s another one of those days, legs crossed over each other with a magazine in your lap. Eyes drifting over the newest pieces in the Fendi collection while The Real Housewives drags along in the background. The chime of the elevator rings in the space notifying you of Harry’s arrival.

His dress shoes echo heavily amongst the polish floor as they cross the room, the severe sound of his paste has your head trialing up from the glossy booklet.

“Hi baby,” Cheerful voice greeting him, your eyes watch him make his way towards the bar.

Harry decides to ignore you with lips flat and jaw tensing. It’s when seeing the sight of him that you swallow heavily, and when glasses smash against the counter top it makes sweat begin to crease in your palms.

“Is everything okay?” Are your next words, nails curling into the shiny paper as you continue to watch him. He walks across the room, same hash footsteps that halt with his body sitting next to you.

Teeth bite down into your bottom lip as you continue to roam over Harry’s features, it reeks pure anger. Your heart pounding in your chest with toes curling in on themselves trying to control the stress overtaking you.

Maybe it’s another bad day at work? Maybe Johnny pissed him off like he always does? Maybe his anger isn’t directed towards you? So, with that glimmer of thought, your hand stretches out to place the magazine on his lap. Nervous smile peeking through as you look towards him.

“Isn’t this coat beautiful, I wonder if they have it in store?” You suggest, gaze catching between his forest eyes and the brown fur coat embroidered with the Fendi logo.

Harry looks towards the magazine, sight roaming over the image before his hand is closing the book and slapping it onto the center table. The ringing of the glass rattles every vein pulsing through. His actions focus your attention with tears beginning to swell.

He stares at the flowers adorning the surface, hand raising the glass to his lips as he swallows back whisky. The tension in the room is thick and uncomfortable, the expression written over his face is one you’ve never witnessed before. It’s why your nails curl into your pantyhose already leaving faint tears.

Harry clears his throat when pulling the drink away from his lips, tongue peeking out to wet flesh just as his eyes lock with you. Connection holding an eerie exchange that has your mouth run dry.

“You know when you joined me for the party Sunday night, I wondered what made you so flustered when Christrian introduced himself.” The mention of your client has your throat squeeze, tears now stinging your vision.

“Still, I thought nothing of it. He has his fame with his movies, his starlight, whatever… you see I thought that was the reason but no, no, no, that wasn’t why you got flustered, now is it?” Your chest now rises quickly with each breath.

Harry’s mad, screw that, mad is not even the word; he’s vexed, furious, absolutely outraged with eyes wide and each word coming out in an angry spew. The sight is haunting compared to the one you’re so use to.

“Since you don’t know, Christian and I are invested in the same stock, sometimes we have meetings going over bullshit graphs and other stupidness to fund. And when I thought that our usual meetings would go how they normally do, I was surprised when he brought you up.” Your skin is practically radiating more heat than the sun at the moment, you’re caught and sit in front of him in complete shock. “Asking me how I could’ve possibly been able to spend a night with you, how he’s been trying to… well, I don’t even want to say.”

“Harry I’m so sorry—”

“—Oh! So now you’re sorry, not when he smiled in my face and shook my hand?”

You’re the reason why he’s enraged and looking at you with such shame. A storm of tears pounds behind your eyes with nails now ruining your stockings, it was taking everything in you not to cry in front of him.

“Harry, I can’t say anything, I’m under contract.”

Those words have a bitter laugh floating in the air, condescending and threatening that your gaze falls towards the leather cushions. The ice cubes in his glass rattle against each other straining the atmosphere.

“Choose right now, your job or me.” Eyes go wide as they look back up at him. Your mouth wobbles as you swallow nervously.

“What?” Brows push together as your fingers unclench themselves around your knees.

“Right now, choose.” Heart pounds against your chest with thunder, tears begging to fall over your waterline as you look at him in surprise at the ultimatum.

All Harry does is stare back with his intense gaze and clenching hand. The emotions coursing through nearly make you faint, this was all too much, especially right now.

“B —Baby, Harry, I think we should just talk about this,”

“—That’s your answer.” Cutting you off with eyebrows high in question. Once again, your expression wavers with confusion and sadness. Mind still trying to process the events happening.

Your stuttering face has Harry pulling away from your presence with another amused laugh, hand slamming his glass down on the table before he’s leaning forward. The clattering objects make your body shake and tears begin to trickle from your eyes, fingers leave your legs to wipe away the sadness roaming down your cheeks.

You watch Harry begin to loosen his tie, knees raising him off the couch as he moves across the room again. His motions have you immediately following after, heels clicking behind his rushed steps trying to catch up to him.

“Get all your shit and get out!” Harry sneers, stomping up the stairs with yourself following behind in anxious beats.

His words have your heart tearing in half, cry leaving your lips as you try to ignore the water blurring your version and trailing down your skin.

“What? No!” Grabbing at Harry’s hand once reaching the landing, the gesture has his fingers jerk away from yours and continue his venture towards the bedroom.

Marching down the hall until swinging the door open, immediately going to your side of the dresser and beginning to toss your shirts and blouses across the floor, some trailing onto the bed as he empties your things.

“Stop! What are you doing!” You sob, bending to pick up the clothing and trying to shove them back in its place.

“You want to stay at Jasper’s! Fine, go ahead! But I won’t be with you anymore!” His voice booms over you, stinging words cutting deep that has another wave of tears shredding.

“I never said that!” You weep, hands trying to collect his who continues to throw your things. Actions so rushed and furious that he’s not even paying attention to your crying frame.

“It’s clear!” Harry tugs another drawer open tossing all your garments across the room.

“Well I’m not going!” Fingers catching onto the fabric in his hands that leave you both fighting over the piece.

“I don’t want you here! Get out!” Harry's voice roars over the sob that leaves your distraught frame.

You never heard Harry this way, and you’ve never seen him this angry either, and the fact he’s throwing you away as if nothing is leaving you completely broken. Every moment with him has been special since you met, and now the fucked up reveal of your secrets is shattering all that you once were. It’s stomping on your heart and playing in the smashed pieces.

You’re sure the eyeliner and mascara you put on this morning is running all over your cheeks, still your chest heaves heavy breaths as your hands trail up his arms to try and halt his movements. This is not what you want, this is the last thing you expected to happen, and it’s more devastating that it’s unfolding like this.

“H —Harry, please, just stop, you can’t mean this.” Soft voice wavering as you tug on his blazer, nails digging into his skin roughly to get attention.

And it does, his sight cold and jaw clenching from the view of your appearance. The draw down your frame looks as if he’s ashamed, like he doesn’t even want to look at you right now. It’s the sight that makes you want to apologize over and over again.

“How is she in bed? Is she as sweet as I imagine?”

Crack lips part, lashes fluttering with brows drawing together; all your features resemble pure shock at the reiteration of Christian’s words. Now you stand in this room that once held such love and affection be swallowed by heartbreak. Chanel, Prada, Armani, gifts that Harry presented for your own space in his life; they now grace the floor as if a memory long forgotten.

“She always told me she never does those things, kinda’ offended she didn’t reveal to me her added profession.”

Olive eyes shine with distaste looking at your withering appearance. Jaw tensing and fingers still clenching around your shirt. Another shaky breath courses through, examining eyes and twitching mouth not knowing what to say.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to beat the livin’ shit out of him. The way he describes you, talks about you. I had to bite my tongue hearing everything.” Nails relax against his arms with your lips pressing tightly together. “I’m disgusted.”

His words aim to bruise, leaving sadness to blossom in the hollows of your heart. Everything is falling apart right in front of your eyes and all you can do is let tears continue to run. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say something?

“So choose, Jasper’s or me.”

“You.”

Nodding up at him, the ends of your mouth tug into a timid smile with your hands drawing down to cradle his fingers. His nostrils flare still angry, still completely furious.

The answer doesn’t ease the tension in the room, instead it heightens your decision, the one you should’ve said before fumbling over your words. Shining rays of light pass through the window, brightness gracing over the clothes flung across the space amidst the battlefield of sadness and rage.

“I —I choose you, I’ll leave Jasper’s, I —I’m sorry.” Fingers encasing around his as you step deeper into his presence. Harry retreats into the dresser, chest flexing with grip contracting around the shirt in hand.

Cold eyes don’t break sight over your sniffling appearance. Intimidation radiates from his towering posture that cradles your worried frame. Even fully clothed, Harry eyes undress every vulnerable twitch that courses through, lashes batting up at him heartbroken and needy, always so needy.

“You quit tomorrow.” He demands, hands dropping the garment and gripping the underside of your arm. “You’ll move out of your apartment, stay with me and be my good little doll. Is that clear?” Now it’s your turn for your body to tense. Tear stained cheeks and paint smeared eyes bow under Harry’s gaze.

“Now I don’t want this happening again. I shouldn’t have to do this to show you what you really want.”

His grip over your arm has you stumbling backwards towards the bed, knees cushioning your seated position as Harry’s other hand goes towards your neck, holding your gaze as he looks over you.

The room captures two lovers; one manipulative with his calculating actions, while the other is victim to the love prayed over with affection and money. His behavior is overseen by your emotions so easily embraced by him. It’s why you stare at him in virtue despite everything that has transpired in your life already, the one that’s now completely devoted to Harry.

“I hate to make you cry… but you look so pretty.”

Thumb spreads over your skin as his head cranes down, lips gazing over each other as his eyes continue to examine your hesitant frame. He loves the way your breath quivers as he moves closer, body shifting against his grip as he looms over your frame in complete awe of you.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. You know I’ll take care of you, I always do… and with Jasper’s, that place holds you back, you know that, don’t you?” Fingers shaking your head playfully with his sight still never trailing off your bitten lip and doe eyes. “You’ll love it here, keep my bed nice and warm. Won’t you, darling?”

“Yes.”

Though agreeing with everything Harry says, the feeling of your heart trying to repair itself cracks even more at the obligations being set in place. Restrictions now apply over your life to be with him. It’s scary, and alarming, and you should really catch your breath and think over everything he’s saying but you don’t, not with his hand cradling your skin and eyes drawing you in.

“No more dancing, no more clients, just me.”

Nodding your head again with deep breath releasing, your fingers curl around the material of your velvet dress. Heart paces with sorrow realizing you won’t be wrapped up in your long tulle robe, receive generous tips, or have your girl talk surrounded by vanity lights.

“If I find out about another one I’ll kill them. Swear to god I will.” Chest quivers as his words float along your face. Intense stare watching the way you swallow heavily and bow your head at him.

“I’m sorry.” Soft voice slipping past your lips as the storm behind your eyes calms down. Fingers that once ruffled against your dress rise up and close around his wrist, lashes batting up at him with a shaky smile.

“Only you, it’s only ever been you.”

Harry tightens his grip around your jaw. Sight still surveying your anxious frame, his other hand runs down your face before tucking hair away. The ends of his lips tug up at the same time he’s shaking your head playfully, again.

Just like always, his demeanor radiates satisfaction at your attention. Heart growing fond of you surrendering yourself, complying to every requirement. Harry falls more in love with the way he can control you, how you’re now his entirely. He’s happy knowing that he’ll come home to your pretty self waiting for him and ready for anything he proposes, all because you’re just that dedicated to please him.

It’s why his head lowers, lips connecting against your bitten ones. The grip over your jaw sliding down your neck, rubbing the skin roughly as tongues link together to dance. Ignorance of the heated scene passing over both of your minds while his hand tightens.

The bourbon on his tongue adds to the intoxicating sensation that runs through you whenever you taste him. It’s the type that you want passing through your own veins just loving it that much, loving him that much. Harry cares about you, isn’t it obvious? He wants what’s best for you, that’s why he’s making you leave Jasper’s and have you live with him to spend the rest of your days.

His hand curls around your neck, mouths parting as his sight goes back to examining your face. There’s still pink roaming across the hollows of your eyes, cheeks a mess of black liner, and daze still twinkling up at him.

“Show me how sorry you are.”

Darting sight looks between his smirk and preying self, knees pushing off the bed to fall to the floor with connection never breaking. His hands follow every motion of your head as it nods at him, your fingers going to his belt and immediately beginning to undo it.

Thick bulge pressed tightly against his zipper revealing how turned on he got at the heated exchange. Your hand releases him from his boxers while your other tugs the rest of his slacks down, mouth not waiting to accept him graciously. Shallow taste of salt on your tongue as it twirls around his head, eyes blinking up as you apologize in his favorite way.

Lips bubble with spit as you roam down his length, clear fluid coating him in the rush of your descent, the urgent need to display how sorry you are shows.

Your mouth parts lowering yourself around him, tongue laying flat along the underside craving out every pulsing vein beneath erect skin. The warmth of you wrapping around his cock has a relieving sigh pass through him.

“Be my perfect girl.” Fingers massaging your scalp as you continue to swallow him down. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Harry watches every bob of your head, plump lips sucking him and feeling your throat relax and accept him effortlessly. Connection shimmers with obedience as you prove to him how guilty you feel for thinking you wouldn’t choose him over anything.

Acknowledging his comments your mouth descends down his cock even further, neck contracting around his length as your nose tickles his pelvis, moan stifles against him at the way he stretches your throat. The effect of him between your lips already has your pussy throbbing, wetness beginning to coat your folds falling into his every tactic.

The hand placed on his thigh moves towards his dick, enclosing around it and gliding with every bob of your head, added pleasure being received happily as his fingers curl into your locks.

“Just like that,” Harry coos, hips thrusting into your motions as you continue swallowing him down.

Shivers of delight course through happy you’re pleasing him. It’s reassuring hearing his groan over your movements. Knees shuffling across the floor, strands of hair shifting with every dip and saliva causing his cock to glisten in the light.

It’s beautiful how it shines, mini air bubbles roaming along the nerves pulsating along your tongue. It was a sight to see, a sight you adore. It’s why your body tries to contain yourself from the sparks igniting. You’re happy to apologize to him, happy to show him that he’s the only one for you.

The expressions of pleasure slipping from Harry uplifts your spirit, you’re back on his good side, and you want to remain there. The look of disgust that once crossed his face is one you never want to see again, especially his words. You’re supposed to be his good doll, not one to lie or deceive him. That’s why you’re on your best behavior, doing anything to prove yourself.

“I’ll do anything to show you that you’re the only one I want.” Fingers tightening around his length that has him groaning from the look over your face, eyes caught on your forgiving frame that he can’t help but smirk. Palms now hold your face up in his favorite place. “You always treat me so good, I’m sorry baby.”

Hand continues to roam down his cock in twists, easily sliding with spit as your gaze doesn’t break. Needy eyes and pouty lips, it’s Harry's favorite image of you; and with your makeup all streaked down your cheeks, he wants this moment to be photographed so he can save it in his wallet to show how devoted you are to pleasing him.

His grip over you halts your movements, fingers roughly carrying your face towards him as your knees flex with gasp falling from your lips, his actions have your hands contract and draw away.

“Show me.”

The words guide your movements to reach behind your back. Nails catching on your zipper to draw it down your frame. Fitted dress falling down your body as your heels are next, toes slipping out of your pumps and touching the heated wood, and with each movement of you shredding off your panties and stockings, Harry is there watching your every move while he strokes himself.

The soft skin of your curves sit on display for him to admire. Swelling breasts so perfect and round, thighs so deliciously smooth and begging to be in his hold. God, Harry is in love with you. Every vulnerable inch of yourself is exposed for his greedy eyes. It’s why he begins undressing himself; dress shoes kicking off, slacks joining the mess on the floor, and every button of his dress shirt revealing inked skin under your gaze.

“Turn around.”

Following his command, you do. Eyes staring at all your clothes thrown over the space, nails drawing down your thighs eagerly as you hear ruffling behind you.

“Get on the bed, face down.”

Legs bend, knees ruffling against the sheets while your spine curves in. The side of your face is comforted by your slick blouse as your hands reach out in front of you, fingers curling around loose garments with your pussy set on display.

Harry’s steps shift amongst the floor, palm sliding to your lower back shoving you deeper into the bed as the head of his cock drags down your creamy folds.

“Look so pretty like this baby.” Dick pushing past your lips and spreading you wide. Your mouth hangs open, a satisfied moan trailing into the air of Harry stretching you out with all his length. “I love when you tell me you’re sorry.”

Whimpers spill, head rotating in pleasure as your hips jerk with each pound of his. Harry draws out slowly before thrusting back in roughly, each strike filling your pussy just the way you like. It never mattered what position you found yourselves in, he was always reaching parts of you that had your toes curling, and the fact that he’s pounding away not even allowing you to adjust sends a greedy sensation through you.

Harry is using your pussy just the way you like; fucking you however he pleases like the doll you are to him. It’s exhilarating, it’s mind numbing, leaving you light headed and addicted to every strike opening you wide.

“That’s right… take my dick.” Deafening slap roaming against your ass. It has your teeth biting into the silk and push against his thrusts with adrenaline coursing through.

“Baby,” Nails curling tightly into your shirts, while his grip over your hips controls you to accept every hungry pound.

Harry surveys your jolting frame, flexing back and shoulders craning as your arms roam higher up the sheets. Fingers drag and curl around the piles of mess lying across the sheets, plump lips hanging open in adoration at his urgent thrusts.

You look so beautiful like this, are his immediate thoughts floating in his mind; the way you grant him pleasure within the depths of your body that he loves to sink into, so beautiful.

Every delicious sound of your voice crying out in a whimper or moan just drives his hips even more, hands slipping up your neck and shoving your head into the blouse, hungry growl leaving him as your eyes squeeze shut with your pussy quivering around him. God does he love you so much, don’t you see that? Don’t you feel it? With every rock of his hips don’t you feel the electric pulse of him, how he’s so hungry craving more of your sweetness.

It’s the smirk that carries across his lips with knowledge that you know, you have to. Because with every coat of your nectar sliding down and accepting his cock he can feel your walls tighten and release; skin folding between your brows, knuckles going white from your grip over the sheets, pussy accepting every assault that you admire so much. Yes, he’s sure you know.

“Tell me you’re sorry.” He demands, chest parallel to your shoulders as he mounts you into the bed.

Harry’s hips have your body bouncing into the springs, face squishing and wheezing sighs of air passing through the thin material of your top. He’s so intoxicating the way he fucks you into the bed and shows you were you belong.

“I’m sorry!” Moaning while your fingers drag down the bed in agony at the ticks of your climax crawling through your foot.

“I’m so, so, sorry,” Voice going hoarse as your thighs quiver, eyes fluttering open to see lace and silk engulf your vision.

“Mhm, don’t you want to be my good girl?” Thrusts never halting as he continues to pound away at your cervix.

“Yes, god, yes!” Head straining against his hold as your stomach clenches with nerves.

Harry continues going, erratic thrusts of his cock in your drenched pussy, the sound of his hips plummeting your backside meets with every groan and whimper trailing in the air. The sounds drawing from the room float all the way into the hallway, each other's appetite being fulfilled in the messy foundation of your relationship.

“That’s my perfect girl,” Harry hums, lips pressing into your bobbing head as you completely unravel around him.

Hypnotic pulses sting down your spine as your head twists in his hold, teeth bite into the sheets as your pussy quivers all around him. Chest heaves as your mind goes completely blank, every thought and emotion is wrapped in him, loving everything he does.

“Oh my god, Harry,” Whining while you go sore around him as he continues his torment.

“That’s it baby… I feel you.” He breathes into your ear, hand releasing around your neck, the hold of you around his cock adds to him moaning into your sweating skin. “So good for me, just the way I like.”

Hips slowly dive back in, motions changing from their rough propelling paste to affectionate loving strokes. So exhilarating and passionate as he feels your body go limp around him.

It’s in the way your mouth parts, salvia stringing between your plump lips that Harry groans heavily against you. The mess of your hair mattes against his, the smell of your shampoo filling his nose as your back ruffles against his chest. Ticking sensations coursing through still leaving you feeling drowsy with your climax consuming you.

The dazed expression crossing your face is a captivating site, one that has Harry spilling into you, long moan brushing over your face as he relaxes into your body. Two hearts in the same room trying to regulate their breathing as they come down from the adrenaline that once pierced you into the sheets.

You feel Harry go slack, cock slipping out as he rolls off your body. You still breathe in shaky breaths, waist falling into the mattress as your thighs ruffle against the garments with limbs twitching from the waves of your release still coursing through.

As your mind continues to wander itself through fog you don't realize Harry sitting up in bed and putting himself back together, feet shuffling across the floor as he walks around the bed frame.

The noise catches your attention first before the sight of him entering the bathroom, and even despite him just fucking you brutally into the sheets he still looks upset.

“Clean up this mess and get ready for dinner, reservation is for seven.” Is all he says, the bathroom door slamming shut ending further conversation, only meaning that your apology isn’t accepted.

For thirty minutes you sit across from each other and let silence eat you up. Nails picking the skin around your cuticles, teeth biting into flesh while Harry on the other hand is extremely relaxed. Poised, professional, and avoiding your presence as if you’re not even there.

It’s over dinner that you realize, no matter how many times you try to shine your pearly white teeth or strike up a conversation, if Harry is in a bad mood that means you suffer in the projection of his feelings.

You can’t even be surprised by his anger, it’s really what you expect. You lied for days just for him to find out from Christian himself, and to make it even worse, he talked about you in a way that even made your skin crawl.

Harry avoided you for the rest of the night; no eye contact, no kisses, and no cuddling once in bed. It sinks your soul knowing you’re the reason behind the way he’s treating you at the moment, but it’s only right you endure this. It’s your fault.

That’s why you aren’t surprised when you wake up to the text from him reminding you of what’s needed today. The one thing you never thought would happen so soon. No more decorative feathers, no more giggling and suggestive talks, no more tips and dancing, no more Jasper. Three years gone, the memories you have are ones you hold dear; it’s why it pains you right now.

Looking at yourself in the goblet mirror adoring the dresser, that was previously pulled apart in a furious rage, tears prick your eyes recalling all the fond moments. Girls helping out with makeup, advice on which robe to wear, gossiping about clients, god, you’ll miss it all. But, it’s better this way. It’s better to have Harry take care of you, it’s nice really. You don’t have to worry about other men touching you, or whispering what they would like to do if given the chance. Sure, the money was nice and all but, Harry gives you anything you ask for, so maybe it isn’t that bad. Maybe, it’ll be okay.

“Miss, the car is ready for you.” Knock at the door awakening you from your thoughts. You inhale sharply, fingers running through your hair nervously as you nod at yourself.

“Okay, I’ll be right down!” You call, back turning and grabbing your coat.

The drive to Jasper’s is quiet, the streets outside the truck don’t puncture the memories that you reminisce about. Working your ass off at such a young age from waitressing to odd jobs, Jasper’s was a breath of fresh air despite the downside of dancing and late nights, you began to live a life of luxury, the life you always dreamed about. You did it by yourself, on your own and you’re proud about that. You could’ve given up at any moment but instead you pulled through, and now look, you found someone who’s going to take care of you.

Despite the tension between you and Harry at the moment, it’s obvious he wants to keep you by his side, should you really object to that? You spend the majority of your time with him, he always takes you out to dinner, buys whatever you want, and shows you love whenever needed (disregarding the current circumstance) so it really isn’t like his suggestions aren’t true. You’ll be better off with Harry, you know deep down this slippery slope that it will get better, and once you move in it’ll be easier just to please him. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Once Harry's team helps you out of the truck and to your familiar destination the surge of anxiety scorches through. Heart beating erratically, fingers fidgeting in your coat, eyes move in every direction as you tug your way to his office. It pains you to be in this situation, and you would do everything to not stand here right now facing the same door that welcomed you with open arms but now it’s too late.

Your palm curls around the golden knob and an uneasy smile tugs at your lips, seeing Jasper’s low eyes and ruffled hair. It only brings back so many memories, ones that you’ll remember forever.

“Y/N! My sweetheart!” Jasper stands, walking around the desk and opening up his arms.

You immediately go towards him. Hands wrapping around his back and ingesting the smell of coffee and cigarettes. Weirdly it calmed you down, settling the uneasiness through you as you lay against his chest.

The first time you ever met Jasper there was always a loving connection between you both, as if father and daughter. Southern accent and tired look never giving off irritation or displeasure whenever around. Always treating everyone with such kindness and respect, he never changed since you first met him, and that’s what you like most about him. Jasper is Jasper.

“My dear girl, it feels like forever since I last saw you,” Pulling away he smiles, crooked teeth and chapped lips shining as you bow your head in acknowledgment.

“I know, I know, I’ve been really busy lately.” You confide, eyes darting between him and the birds that roam outside the window.

Jasper sighs looking over your frame before stepping back. His hand gestures to the chairs seated in front of the desk. You immediately oblige, legs crossing over each other with hands curling together in your lap. Now you wish you could nestle in his chest just like a few seconds ago, burrow yourself into the coffee smell and forget the reason why you’re in this office.

“Yes, I see, you've been taking your vacation days quite often.” The words only elect an anxious draw of breath. Now your palms begin to grow with sweat, and you swear your ears start to ring from your mind racing.

“Yes, sir. I just thought… I —I… um,” Stuttering not knowing what to say or where to direct your attention. Your heart is going crazy in your chest, pounding so hard against its cage that you might pass out. “I found someone.”

You basically whisper those words but Jasper, he hears and he smiles. It’s one that knows the secret without having to hear the reveal. You’re sure it is written all over your face, and with the grin that tugs across his lips, you calm down just a bit.

“Is it Styles?” You blink with mouth parted and pain quaking throughout your bones.

“Y/N…” He sighs, hand brushing through his messy hair as he leans back in his chair. “I looked through your client log, I’ve seen Styles was your regular for about two months or so until he stopped returning; in that same time you begin using your vacation days. It quirked my interest so I decided to go through the security cameras during that time frame and…”

Your whole entire body goes hot, ears burning, and stomach turning, quite frankly you want to throw up. You’re stupid to forget about the hidden cameras in the room. God, of course this happens to you. Of course your boss saw you in every imaginable way within the two months Harry spent still coming here. You want to curl into a ball and forget this even happened.

“Dear…” Jasper breathes again, concerned look written all over his face despite your raging appearance. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Those are in there to protect everyone, and we’re humans, it’s natural, so don’t think too much about it, alright?”

You nod your head timidly as your leg begins to bob, you drop your head and try your best to not let tears run down your cheeks. You already went through a crying fit yesterday and you’re not going through another one again.

“You already know my thoughts on you Y/N. You’ve been my star since you walked into this place. I just want you to be safe.” Chin tilting your version to look back up at the concerned boss who was like a father to you. This couldn’t get any worse. Having to leave everything you know behind, this absolutely sucks.

“I know Styles… I know the life he lives isn’t the best and it’s definitely not the happiest. I just want you to fully understand what you’re getting yourself into.” Jasper leans forward, hand reaching out for yours which you don’t hesitate to give. You don’t hold back anymore, letting the tears trickle down slowly as you breathe in, throat straining from this moment, the one you still can’t believe is happening.

“I’ll be fine, Jasper. I know I will.” You nod with reassurance, free hand swiping away the tears that still spill. His fingers curl around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles trying to sooth you but, when that isn’t enough he steps around the desk, body engulfing your shaking frame as you try to regain some composure.

“Grace and I are always here, you know that darling. You don’t gotta worry.” Hand patting your hair as you nod into his stomach, nose sniffing through the space.

“I know…” You sigh. Peeling away from his presence, a small smile on your lips as you look up at him. “This isn’t a goodbye, I promise.”

Jasper nods his head softly, tired expression still lingering as he looks over your frame while he continues to run his hands over your locks. The action soothes you. The storm brewing inside calms itself, the current subsiding and the tears that once roam down your cheeks halt. Your heart quiets down, chest relaxing with head drawing away from him as you wipe away any streaks.

You stand to wrap around him once again, breathing in his usual scent just hoping the clock can turn back time and things can go back to how they once were. Jasper rocks you, letting all the pulsing veins in your body rest and ease your shaking body to a halt.

“I’ll miss you.” You breathe into his chest before looking up at him. The smile you adore shines brightly as he pats your lower back.

“This is home darling, you’ll always know where to find me if needed, alright?” Jasper reassures. Nodding up at him once more, you pull away and offer a genuine grin.

Departing from his touch there’s a sense of loneliness spreading through. Giving up your work and home to live with Harry, in hindsight, there’s nothing wrong with having him take care of you, if anything you should be happy that he’s willing to do that. It shows the love he has for you but, why in this moment does it feel like you’re giving up your life; not on your terms but his.

When closing the chestnut door the walk down the familiar hallway is bittersweet. Intricate designs plastered on every inch of the walls, gold fixtures shining against the dim light before you reach the elevator and ring it back to the main floor.

Every chime is one you cherish no matter how stupid it may seem, the sound is sentimental and will forever be ingrained in your memory from the many nights your tall heels would stand in the moving machine. Your eyes dance around the revolving mirrors and lit up numbers, your fingers tracing over the covers and drinking them in as it will be the last time you’ll probably press them again.

The ding of the elevator thrusts you out of your thoughts and through the doors, it’s to your surprise once leaving that ginger hair and beaming smile greet you. The sweet aroma of her perfume wafts your senses as she pulls you into a hug, fur and strands of hair prickle against your skin as you lean into her touch.

“Hey babe! You’re working with me today?” Grace asks while pulling away, happiness written all over her features.

“Uh… no actually, just had to speak to Jasper,” You say, concealing the truth with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Don’t blame him, I barely see you anymore,” She jabs, hand gently shoving you which leaves you shaking your head in response.

“I’m busy, what can I say?” You shrug raising your hands up playfully to surrender.

“Yeah, busy being under Harry any chance you get,” It’s her turn to roll her eyes and nudge you with her hip. “But, hey! Angelo actually got me a booth tonight at his club, why don’t you and Harry come!” Grace suggests. Hazel eyes and white teeth shine with excitement at her offer.

You’ve never been with him in that sort of setting before, and honestly you don’t know how he’ll be either. But, you both are also not on great terms, so maybe a night out with some drinks and dancing will do you both some good.

“Uh, yeah, that actually sounds fun. I’ll ask him.” You beam with fakeness. “I actually should get going now, the car is waiting for me.”

“Okay! Hope to see you tonight!” Grace grins, pulling you into another hug before going to her destination.

Nodding your head timidly, you watch her orange hair bounce down the hall until her body disappears. A shaky breath escapes as you turn towards the entrance, hands fitting into your pockets as you push the doors open. The brisk air sweeps through as you tug your way towards the truck. Sincere smile spreads as Elio helps you into the vehicle before getting behind the wheel.

“Should I inform Mr. Styles that everything went as expected?” He calls from the front. Your hand tears away from their place and swipes away the lingering strands of hair combing over your face.

“Yes, it went well.” You sigh, eyes looking out the window as the car begins to move. The French pillars trail out of your version, leaving your heart splitting down the middle at the conclusion of your life.

“Actually Elio, can you do me a favor and ask Harry something for me?”

Surprise is an understatement with the fact you're walking through the club with music thumping your ear drums. Harry’s hand is secured tightly amongst your hips while the floor shakes from the erratic beat coursing through. With all the bodies shuffling through the room, you’re happy Harry’s team is pushing people through the mess directing you where to go.

You didn’t think he would agree to coming out tonight, but when he did you couldn’t have been anything but ecstatic. You threw on your tightest dress and curled your hair just the way he likes, also opting to wear the perfume he complimented on how irresistible you smell. Tonight you were going to win him back the way you know how.

“Yay! I’m so happy you came!” Grace screams over the song while pulling you into a hug.

“Oh my god!” Lucy joins, wrapping around you both. The feeling of another body being engulfed in the circle only means it’s Clarissa. The grin on your face spreads wider at the moment, head knocking around until they all pull apart.

“Hot lil’ thing aren’t you,” Clarissa remarks once pulling away. Her hand collects yours to twirl you around and display your appearance, the action only leaves you laughing as you smile at your friends.

“Thank you, thank you,” Rolling your eyes playfully as she releases her hold. The fitted black garment hugs your curves deliciously while your heels accentuate the length of your legs.

“But… everyone meet Harry,” You say, sight darting to him as you let your arm wrap around his waist, head leaning onto his chest as he smiles stiffly at your group of friends.

“Hello!” He nods to each, colourful strobes shine over everyone in the reserved area as all your friends introduce themselves.

“This bottle of Don Julio isn’t gonna finish itself!” Grace screams, picking the lengthy bottle off the table and raising in the air. It makes you giggle before turning to Harry with eyebrows raised.

“Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” You say, hand running up his stomach before turning towards Grace who's already pouring shots for everyone.

After that, the night is in full swing; neon lights flashing over sweaty bodies, alcohol either being passed around in short glasses or poured into mouths messily, confetti shoots in the air every few moments as music blasts through the speakers.

The atmosphere in the booth is an energetic thrill, everyone getting along by singing and dancing, laughter and cheers filling the air as liquor takes over everyones system and leaves them in a good mood.

It’s in the flashing message board bringing another bottle that you realize how intoxicated you really are. The lights blinking at you seem to shift slowly, the music sounding through the space drowns out in a blur of noise as you stumble your way towards Harry, half empty Patron in your hand as you step in front of him.

“Open please!” You giggle up at him, fingers swinging the drink in hand while wiggling eyebrows.

“I’m good love,” Harry smiles down at you, his fingers finding their place on your hip as you pout at him.

“No! Tell him he needs to loosen up,” Turning your attention to Angelo who laughs at the exchange, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes yet slipping deeper into Harry’s warmth. If he doesn’t want to take anymore shots then you surely will, you raise the clear bottle to your mouth, lips parting and happily willing to accept the liquor till you feel his hands tear it away from your hold.

“Trust me darling, you don’t need anymore,” Harry points out and passes the bottle to Angelo.

It only has you pouting, you wanted to have fun and you wanted Harry to loosen up some more, but you’ll accept his decision with another eye roll and trailing back over to your friends who are even more drunk than you.

“Bottoms up!” Lucy screams as she pours Clase Azul into your mouth, the amount so much you have to clasp your hand around her wrist to tear the bottle away.

“Ew,” You laugh, after swallowing the sickening amount, leaving Clarissa to chuckle at your reaction. Eyeing Grace across the section, you gesture for you to come towards you.

Happily complying she joins between the three as lights flash across your glistening bodies. The white and blue bottle gets exchanged between your friends, all taking shots before placing it on the table. As the neon strobes continue to flash and confetti fills the air, the DJ yells into the mic something inaudible until the song he puts on has the crowd cheering.

“Ah! Catch me slidin’ in a Benz, I ain’t looking for no man,” Clarissa screams her body turning towards you as her hips begin to sway. You can’t help the laugh that leaves as Lucy turns and grins at you.

“Ain’t recruiting no new friends! Louie bag filled with bands!” Grace is next as she dances behind the blonde, her head swinging seductively as she moves to the beat.

The energy is so ecstatic between the group that you find yourself joining in. Hips swiveling into Clarissa’s as your hands find themselves venturing toward her neck, fingers carding through her hair as you match the rhythm of her. The comfort of her palms trails down your sides, teasingly tugging the bottom of your dress up as you grind against each other.

“Get it, Sexy! Get it, Sexy!” Lucy cheers along with the song, her body leaning over and tapping your thigh as you and Clarissa manage to grind yourself lower towards the floor.

Laughter leaves both of your mouths as you continue circling your hips against each other, your head knocks back against her shoulder as you let the alcohol consume every motion while the song continues to thunder in your ears.

From your dazed out state to blurry vision, the rough grip over your hand tangled in Clarissa’s hair rips itself away as you stumble over your feet, nearly falling, as you’re being pulled out the booth and down the stairs. The movements are so fast you barely even catch yourself tripping down the flight and across the floor.

“Ow, stop,” You whine, feeling the pain in your wrist increase as the sight of Harry’s curly hair tug you through the mountain of bodies.

The crowds of people brush past you in a rough breeze, elbows and drinks hitting your moving body as you continue to be pulled away from the rambunctious scene.

“Harry you’re hurting me!” Yelling over the music as you try to twist around in his hold, still that doesn’t halt his motions as he continues pushing through the crowd.

It’s when cold air hits your skin and fills your nose do you breathe in a sigh of relief. Your hand jerks out of his grip as you look at him completely furious. “What the fuck are you doing!”

Yet, Harry ignores you, his body struts down the sidewalk past people throwing up or walking around slouched over their friends. And, instead of watching him continue to move further down the path you immediately follow, heels clicking against the cement as chatter and car horns fill the street.

“Hello! Can you talk to me please,” Drunkenly calling out for him as you trail behind like a dog, his footsteps rushed and harsh as the familiar black truck comes into view.

“Get in. Now.” Every word is a bite of aggression but in your drunken state you barely pay any mind as he holds the door open and watches your sluggish body climb into the vehicle.

“What’s your problem?” You mumble, back fitting into the leather seat as you watch Harry peel his phone out of his pocket, still ignoring you.

His voice rings through the space only leaving you to direct your attention to look outside the parked vehicle, vision shifting in slow twists that has you groaning. Hand rises to your forehead in frustration that it feels as if the car is spinning even though it’s parked.

The jostle of the truck shifts as the door slams close, your head peels up to see Elio in his familiar place as the car roars awake. The vehicle immediately peeling off, leaving the street lights from outside to flutter in.

“Why are we leaving?” You’re back to slurring over your words as you turn towards Harry, confusion evident in your expression while he looks cold as ever.

“The hell was that?” He hisses, eyes burning holes in your appearance but you can’t even tell from the alcohol shifting your vision, which leaves you giggling at his response.

“What was what?” Laughing faintly as your hands pull down the end of your dress.

“You’re a mess.” Harry scoffs, head shaking as he turns to look out the window.

Even drunk those words struck a cord within you, brows pushing together as you sit up in your chair and cock your head to the side.

“No, I’m not, don’t say that!” Your voice raising as your jaw tenses, the alcohol in your system fueling anger as you look at him distraught.

“Don’t say that? Look at you! Dancing and touching your friends like that, are you serious?!” Harry’s voice is booming over yours but in your state you don’t even care, you let your tone rise higher. The both of you look at each other livid.

“I’m having fun Harry, I’m at the club,” You respond, hands tearing away from your dress and crossing over themselves amongst your chest.

“It shows you have no class! No morals!” He snaps, nose flaring and hand slamming against the window of the truck.

“No class? No morals? Do I need to remind you where we met! Fuck you! You’re so insecure!” You’re shouting, chest rising heavily as your face screws up.

The laugh that leaves Harry is menacing, with his head shaking in disbelief, a cheery smile tugging across his lips. “Insecure?”

“Yes, insecure and jealous! What’s so wrong with me dancing with my friends!” You wouldn’t be surprised if your voices were heard outside of the car, and you actually feel bad for Elio having to hear the exchange of words. “Fuck! You’re making me so mad!”

“How do you think I feel?”

“You’re the one who started this!”

As the usual sight of Harry’s building fixes your version you’re immediately sitting up and tugging your dress down. The truck comes to a halt; you don’t wait for Elio to help you out as you peel your door open and begin making your way towards the entrance. Your ears burn with anger as your nose scrunches up, heels smacking against tiles as you press the elevator button erratically.

“Stop acting like a child,” Harry hisses once meeting your body, his key pressing into the sensor to allow access to the elevator for his penthouse.

“Fuck you,” You utter, eyes still staring ahead as your step into the machine.

Harry waves off Elio, his body retreating next to yours as you both stand in complete silence. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as your head shakes in pure frustration.

The chime of the elevator dings and your body immediately rushes through the open space of the living room, hair swishing against your neck as you practically speed walk through the room.

“Get over here!” Harry demands, voice rough and loud but you don’t listen, you keep your pace and venture up the stairs.

“Leave me alone!” You call back, his heavy footsteps sounding behind you as you walk down the hall.

“You’re not going out with your friends again!” He shouts following your body as you enter the bedroom.

“Like I’m going to listen to you,” You scoff heading towards the closet until Harry is gripping your waist roughly and turning you towards him.

“You’re running thin with me. Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” Each word a whispered hiss as he looks at you darkly. His hair framing his forehead as his lips press together, jaw tensing and hold growing tighter.

“I can’t stand you. You’re so controlling.” Your only response, as your eyes watch his dilate before his touch is turning you around roughly and pushing you into the mattress abruptly.

“Controlling? I’ll show you controlling.”

Your moving arms are caught in his hold as he tugs them behind your back. His other hand reaches down and pulls your dress over your hips to reveal your backside. Body moving against his hold as your head turns around seeing him in your peripheral vision.

“Harry,” You mutter, his palm roaming over your backside before it’s landing a smack amongst your skin.

He only grunts in response, hands smoothing over your ass before placing another slap. The harsh feeling over your backside has you biting into the sheets with pain and pleasure coursing through, the anger that once filled your body subsides as you fight yourself from moaning against his touch.

“You’ve been such a bad girl lately? What’s gotten into you?” Harry states, another harsh smack reddening your skin as the grip holding your hands together tightens.

Teeth graze the material of the sheets, eyes rolling at the adrenaline coursing through at each slap as your head relaxes into the mattress. Your chest breathes in deeply, fingers curling in on each other as your thighs shake against the bed frame.

“What’s your colour?” Harry demands, another furious strike coursing through your body. Your eyes squeeze shut as you whimper into the sheets.

Instead of answering you just bury your head deeper into the bed, mouth releasing the duvet as you bite back moans dying to trail out.

“Don’t hold out on me baby,” Harry chuckles, so deep and sinister that your spine crawls at the sound. “I know you like this.”

Teasing voice so sexy that your toes clench against each other amongst the pad of your heels, breasts caving deeper into the blanket while your hips jerk up at the deafening sound cracking against your cheeks.

“Fuck,” You cry, teeth biting into your bottom lip as a rush of thrill courses through and has your pussy throbbing.

“What’s your colour?” He asks again, his hand sliding between your cheeks and feeling between your legs to touch your heat.

The feeling of him taunting you by rubbing over your clothes or bruising your skin red is an addicting one, it has you rustling against the sheets praying for more even though you should be fighting these feelings.

“G —Green,” You breathe into the sheets so quietly that it only beckons another rough slap to welcome itself across your skin.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you love, speak up louder, what did you say?” Luring tone in his voice only has you groaning at his tantalizing ways.

Another smack meets your cheeks so harshly that your spine shoots up and heels chime against the floor. You’re sure your skin is bruised in different colour hues from the amount of strikes that he applies across your skin; and with the alcohol in your system still pumping through your veins, you can’t help the lengthy moan that slips out.

“Green,” You squeak, head shifting amongst the sheets as the feeling of the grip over your hands relaxes. His palm smooths over your backside once again before diving between and feeling over your covered folds.

“Tell me baby, why do you like making me upset?” Harry asks, fingertips dragging down your pussy with aggression that has you shuddering.

“I don’t,” You sigh, thighs quivering against the bed frame as you fall deeper into his touch.

“That’s what you think? Two days in a row you’ve been giving me problems. I don’t like that.” Fingers slipping between your panties to feel your pussy nearly soaking from the exchange of his actions.

“Harry,” You moan, eyes fluttering when you feel the pads of him grace your clit.

“Huh? What was that?” Hand tearing away from between your legs and roaming back up your scorching skin.

“S —Sir, I’m sorry sir,” Body shivering from his touch roaming up and down your exposed flesh.

“Still not good enough.” Harry’s voice deep and gruff as his hands fit under your tight dress, feeling over your heated skin before he’s tugging it over your head. “Come on darling, I know you can do better than that.”

“I —I’m sorry, Mr. Styles.” Words still slurring from the alcohol in your system to his mesmerizing aura.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good doll and turn around for me.” The sound of your dress falling to the floor is heard as you turn around under his hold, eyes connecting on his dazzling ones that shine with the moonlight pouring through the window.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry’s body looming over you as his hands dance up your sides, sliding amongst your clammy skin and feeling over your erect nipples. The touch is so slow and daring that you can’t help but whimper. “I hate when you upset me.”

His fingers grip your round flesh while his eyes skim over every curve and dip; your body flexes along with the shadows in the dark room, fingers feeling against the sheets below as you don’t dare break contact, not with the way he’s looking as if he wants to devour you.

“That’s why right now, you’re my toy. My little toy that’s been so nasty and filthy lately.” Hands drawing back down your sides, sinking past your hips and towards your pussy once again. “So dirty dancing like that on your friends.”

Your teeth bite into your bottom lip, thighs spreading wider accepting his touch while your head buries itself deeper into the mattress. His words only fuel the slick coursing through your pussy.

“You want to be a slut… so, I’ll treat you like one.” Fingers now slip into you only causing a moan to trail out. His lengthy digits thrust into you roughly that have your eyes open wider as he stares longingly at your reaction, smirk tugging at the ends of his lips.

“Play with you however I like… use you just the way I want.” Digits driving out just to plunge back in, the ends of his fingers curling deeply into your pussy that your mouth hangs open in surprise. Harry just started penetrating you and already your stomach was tickling with static.

“Teach you how to be my good little doll, hmm?” Harry continues, brow raising in question as his smile is still sinister from the expression crossing over your face.

As one hand is pleasing your throbbing pussy, the other lands one backhanded slap across your cheek completely surprising you but not enough that it doesn’t stop you from moaning softly and runting your hips against his motions.

“You’re pussy is mine to play with, do you understand?”

Your head bows urgently as you suck in a deep breath, lashes fluttering up at him as his tongue peeks out of his mouth to smooth across his bottom lip.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

Pearly white teeth shine at your doe expression continuing the rough thrusts of his fingers. Sweet nectar coating him with each curl that leaves you keening high in your throat.

“It’s mine to use and abuse,” Harry states, suited body covering over you as he examines every twitch in your face consumed with pleasure. “Your pussy belongs to me.”

Every comment is tingling your spine and has your lashes batting up at him so in love. Each word is degrading and brutal, words that should have you distraught but they don’t, they have another moan leaving your mouth as you accept the his urgent stroke of his fingers.

“Fuck, yes, Mr. Styles.” Your own hands curling into the sheets, thighs beginning to shake and head lolling back.

Harry surveys every inch of your skin that twitches and squirms from his hold over you. He admires watching your stomach quiver, and the way your pussy pulses in his palm has the erection in his pants press painfully against the zipper.

“Mhmm… I like how things are turning around now.” He smiles, digits leaving you to rub your slick all along your folds, spreading you wide as your thighs contract around him.

A whimper falls from your bitten lips as the warmth of Harry leaves. His hands go to undress himself, and as every piece of expensive clothing trails off and reveals the inked skin that you love so much, you can’t help but reach out and touch the tattoos roaming amongst his love handles.

“Gonna start being my good girl?” Harry demands, his body adjusting around your frame as he begins to tap himself along your folds.

The feeling has you shuddering, blinking up at him between your legs as you raise up on your elbows to get a better look. His cock rubbing against your clit, muscles tightening while he still stares as if wanting to ruin you.

“My personal fuck toy.” Letting himself slip between your walls and stretch you out heavenly. The sensation of him filling you up reveals a pleasant sigh as your thighs spread wider around his hips.

“Yes, Mr. Styles… you fuck me so good,” You whine, fingers trailing down his pelvis as he lets his hips glide in with ease.

Harry hums in acknowledgment, his hands finding themselves around your upper thighs, driving into your pussy tenderly letting you feel him expand your walls and sink right against your cervix before drawing back and repeating.

“Mhm, who makes you feel like this darling,” Head craning down as your vision shifts from between your legs to his face coming into view.

“You, only you.” With the quick response your other hand curls into the sheets as your body jerks against the mattress.

“That’s right… you and that dirty mouth of yours,” Breath fanning over your face as his grip along your skin tighten enough to leave bruises, the feeling has you gasping at the pain. “Gonna show me some respect.”

The pace of his thrusts increase leaving his hips to smack against yours. It causes your mouth to hang open and nails drag against his skin at the rapid speed now driving into you. The intense feeling of his cock spreading you wide has your mind a clutter of thoughts.

How can he stretch you out so heavenly yet look at you purely amused by his actions over you? How can he effortlessly pleasure every crevice of your pussy that craves him? How can he fuck the shit out of you yet still have you craving for more? He’s so addicting, so captivating, so intriguing, you’re in awe; you’re in love.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’re used to playing with. You will learn respect.” Eager hips diving into yours that your head falls into the sheets, eyes locking with the chandelier that shifts with every pound of his hips.

“Y —Yes, sir.” Knuckles going white as your spine curves towards his flexing stomach.

“Shut up,” Harry bellows, his hands leaving your thighs; one covering your mouth while the other wraps around your throat.

His harsh words don’t even bruise your feelings, it only has you moaning into his palm with tears beginning to prick your eyes. The blissful pleasure he was making you feel wasn’t even something you can explain.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” His hand releasing your throat to smack you, leaving your vision to trail away from the diamonds that float above and towards his face. Bottom lip between his teeth as his brows push together.

“And I’ll use you just like the one you are.”

Sweat trickles down every expanse of your limbs, bed sheets sticking and the frame of the bed smacking against the window. The tattering sound of it repeatedly hitting it fills the room as your legs hang in the air, shiny heels glistening in the moonlight as you continue to moan against his hand.

Harry could do anything and you would see no wrong, maybe it’s manipulative, maybe it’s controlling but it feels too good that you can’t resist; and why would you want to anyway, he’s the only one to ever make you feel things you never felt before. Like for example right now, the way your thighs begin to shake and spikes of pain course along your calves, only he can do that.

“You’re mine to use, mine to ruin.” His palm releasing from your mouth to land another slap across your cheek, it has you whimpering in response. “Understand me?”

Your lashes flutter as chest heaves drastically, mouth parting and pelvis quivering as you feel your climax barreling in.

“Y —Yes s —sir,” Stuttering as you look at Harry with complete devotion while he basks in it. “Sir.” You whisper, head bobbing with each rough assault to your pussy.

“What? You’re gonna come?” Harry grins, hands meeting your throat and squeezing tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Please, sir, please, can I?” Voice hoarse as your lungs strain for air.

It’s the greedy smirk and shaking head that has your stomach clenching crazily, waist retreating against his furious ones as your fingers tug against the sheet.

“P —Please, Mr. Styles can—”

“—Shut up!”

Grip grows tighter as he continues to pound away. Every rock of his hips pierce your plush walls, and with each jerk of your body up the bed does it remind you that you’re nothing but his toy at the moment, nothing but his doll that he’ll use to his liking.

That’s why tears now flow down your temples, legs shaking against his hips as he toys with your body however he likes while you restrain yourself from releasing all over him.

“Want to be my good girl, then take it.” Face inches away as he watches the tears continue to stream down.

And you do, you suck in your abdomen as your quivering thighs try to close around his waist and accept every fatal attack. Teeth biting into your bottom lip as your throat wheezes for air.

“Play with you however I please,” He grunts, eyes searching your face that begs for oxygen that turns him on even more.

Harry’s hips continue to plunge inside your pussy and bruise your cervix; and with your tight walls twitching around him pleading for release it has his head sliding to the nape of your neck.

You feel him spill his seed into you, a beautiful moan slipping past his lips and along the sweaty skin of your neck as his grip relaxes.

Just the feeling of his come seeping into you has you moaning out, fingers tugging away from the sheets and drawing down his back as his hips don’t stop their torturing movements.

“Please sir, can I come, please,” Whimper tugging through your ruined throat as your lower half now begins to shake from the fight you put up.

“Yes, darling.” The one word you’ve been dying to hear has your stomach relax as you let go and release yourself all over his cock.

Creamy wave of arousal expelling over the thickness of him as his movements never slow. Wet kisses pepper themselves along your neck, his hands by your head feeling over your messy head of hair, while your body continues to twitch and contract around him.

Your grip around him relaxes, hips flexing against his own until he begins to pace himself, slowly rocking into your pussy that makes your chest settle.

“What’s your colour?” Harry asks, head rising and looking over your face. Dizzy expression overcoming your features that has him tugging his hand away from your locks and run over the heated skin.

“Green, sir,” Blinking up at him while swallowing heavily. The answer has Harry nodding, tongue peeking out of his mouth before he’s leaning back on his knees.

Thrusts come to a halt, his cock slipping out that has your mixtures spilling from your folds to drip along the sheets. It’s in the warm atmosphere that you both manage to catch your breaths, chest shallowly welcoming the air as sticky fingers roam up and down the expanse of sweaty skin.

“You’re so good to me baby,” Harry comments, his hands trailing up your leg to begin undoing the strap of your heels. When hearing them smack to the ground do you sigh in relief of having your feet free of the curved platform.

“Mhmm…” You mindlessly hum as you watch in complete awe of him undoing the next one.

“Always perfect for me.” His head running against your calf as he presses light kisses into the skin there. Your favorite words swelling your heart that it makes you get up on your elbows and gesture for him.

“Are we okay now?” You ask, letting your hands run across the skin of his chest.

“Yes baby… just no more surprises, I don’t know what I’ll do next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

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1dcommunityficrecs · 8 months ago

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Historical AUs!

We have 26 incredible fics submitted to this list, stretching from the fifth century up to the 1990s. We have stories that fit into just over 2,000 words, and others that are more than 200,000! This list includes one LiLo fic, and we also have our first ever non-English rec, with a French language fic -- truly the language of love.

To all my fellow history lovers, it's time to go apeshit. Read, reblog, comment, kudos, bookmark, tell your friends, all that jazz -- your local fanfic writer appreciates it!

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds (88649, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Violence, bullying, homophobia, slurs

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Reccer says: The beautifully chosen words, the captivating story, the queer joy!!!

Unrequited by babyhoneyhslt (144000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Omega Prince Harry is send to France to marry Prince Louis, but instead of the nice boy he knew when they were children, he is met with a cold and distant husband and no idea as to why.

Reccer says: It was so interesting to follow along with this and try to figure out why Louis was behaving this way. And then later see them fall in love. Really liked it and can't recommend it enough.

Danger I can’t hide by CelticSky (227290, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: War, homophobia

Flying Officer Styles and Sergeant Tomlinson would have likely never crossed paths in a time of peace, their lives laid out neatly, predictably before them. But then the world became unrecognisable. Too soon they grew accustomed to fear, surrounded by death and destruction, not even their freedom a certainty any more. Until they found each other. Comfort. Companionship. Understanding. Another person to lose.

Reccer says: It's one of those fics that I'd describe as monumental, masterful, epic. In my opinion, it should be made into a film, and brought to everyone's attention. The script is brilliant and relentless. The characters are subtle and nuanced. The writing is exemplary. A masterpiece.

Secrets in Winter by softfonds (82582, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

Reccer says: I loved the plot and the character development of the main pairing.

A cycle of recycled revenge by Brokenbeaks (103302, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Foxburgh, England, 1983. In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it. Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

Reccer says: Absolutely excellent. I was a bit worried about how Harry's blindness would be handled, but it was done wonderfully. Perfect fic. Perfect writing. Perfect plot.

Through Lonely Streets and Neon Lights by Sweetly_disposed (25107, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

Reccer says:

Chasing empty spaces by Lis (Domesticharry) (79028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Reccer says: This fic is simply magnificent. A must read

An invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon (44627, Explicit, Harry Styles Louis Tomlinson)

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

Reccer says:

Box of Rain by Indierection (amandamoraisa) (26631, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1970 AU, Louis is a boxer and Harry a ring boy

Reccer says: The era is well transcribed (the way of life, the music), and the story is very charming.

Cela aussi passera (French-language fic) by Hazzunah (110721, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1993: Louis is 16. It's summertime, by a lake in France. He meets Harry. 1999: Louis is in Japan; he hasn't seen Harry for 6 years, since that fateful summer. He thought he'd lost him forever.

Reccer says: For years, I've been reading only in English, but there's still the odd French fic that I come across that's really good. "This too shall pass" is one of them. It's set in the 90s, it's beautifully written, it's moving, and the characters are well characterized. For me, it's a gem. So I recommend it. For anyone who can read in French.

You Make The World Taste Better by LiveLaughLoveLarry/loveislarryislove (10000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Harassment and threats from the rival baker, culminating in physical violence and a grisly end in keeping with the fairy tale

A twist on Hansel and Gretel as a rivalry between bakers, based on Hans Traxler’s fictional non-fictional text "The Truth About Hansel and Gretel"

Reccer says: This fic is such a wild adaptation of a story almost everyone knows, capturing both the sweet (literally, since Harry is a baker haha) elements and also the darkness of the tale.

No One Like You by myownspark (20000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were noted painters in the 19th century. Louis was a Neoclassicist, Harry a Romantic -- totally different, nothing in common, no connection. But centuries later, art historians Niall and Liam find something that suggests perhaps the two were more intertwined than people think.

Reccer says: I love the parallel timelines, watching Louis and Harry's relationship develop and fracture and heal at the same time as watching Niall and Liam discover things. We see pieces of history they're trying to puzzle together, and then we see the history as it happened, what it really was and what it meant to them.

Bloom by LadyAJ_13 (28909, Teen, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Non-graphic violence, period-typical attitudes

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

Reccer says: This was an incredible, atmospheric, moody historical mystery fic. Topped off with a lovely, happy ending that had me tearing up.

Under Electric Candlelight by littleroverlouis (5051, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

In the 1970s, small town veterinarian Louis moves to NYC and meets a beauty at the bar named H who sometimes goes by Lola.

Reccer says: So immersive you feel like you're in 1970s Manhattan. The characters are truly electric and lovely.

this is my jam by disgruntledkittenface (4513, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

Reccer says: This story is so much more than it first appears. I could feel the atmosphere and the emotion of the moment of the characters finding a freedom that didn't exist for them outside of the bathhouse's walls. It's an absolutely beautiful (and hot) exploration of such a specific time and place. So layered and thoughtful and hopeful and real.

After Dark, After Light by QuickedWeen (71440, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Kidnapping, battlefield

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses. As the winter draws nearer by the day, the two are thrown together to prepare for the invasion that they expect as soon as the ground thaws.

Reccer says: This fic just sweeps you away to the Scottish Highlands! Such a fun historical romance!

the sanctity of patience by scrunchyharry (22521, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for.

Reccer says: The writing is gorgeous and immersive. The characters are so vivid and I loved the way their journey to love played out.

Ace of Spades by allwaswell16 (78000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: depictions of violence, drug use

Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

Reccer says: Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. The plot twists! The suspense! The intrigue!

Adore You by Isthatyoularry (66979, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Arrange marriage AU, Harry initially hates Louis and their arrangement but goes along with it for the summer. Louis is perfect for him tho, as much as harry hates to admit it. They last.

Reccer says: The word building. Stubborn harry. Pining louis. Catching feelings. Hate to love.

We Can Find a Place to Feel Good by yeah_alright/uhoh-but-yeah-alright (8000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

1960s AU inspired by Treat People With Kindness. Harry attends school dances over the years, meeting Louis and learning more about himself and what he loves.

Reccer says: Just so completely sweet and hopeful! Captures the vibe of the song so well!

The Garden Part 1 by Throwthemflowers/hazzabeeforlou (13000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Major character death, war

Biblical AU - 5th Century. A prince (Louis) falls in love with his father’s musician (Harry) in the midst of war.

Reccer says: This story is so hard to describe (it's Part 1 of a truly incredible 3-part series) but it's intense and brilliant and epic. The love here is all consuming and it comes through in the writing. Completely unique.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by fairytalefemme (25896, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: internalized homophobia

40s/50s AU. Harry leaves his bride-to-be at the altar, runs away from his life, and finds a kind farmer who lets him stay.

Reccer says: Such a sweet, tender exploration of love and self.

With Words Unspoken by jacaranda_bloom (18000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Older Louis and Harry. 50ish Louis returns to a cabin he'd visited many years before and it's a hippie commune type place where he finds Harry.

Reccer says: It just made me SO HAPPY. Peaceful and lovely.

1957: here to take my medicine by zita17/louisandtheaquarian (2652, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading.

Reccer says: Literally transports you to this particular time and place. And so so hot.

The murmur of yearning by Mediawhore (93300, Mature, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Rape/non-con attempts, death of character, slurs etc

Harry upon the death of his husband he was forced to marry find companionship and support in the arms of Land steward mr. tomlinson. Together they try to prove harry didnt murder his husband.

Reccer says: Regency era. Dark academia. Mystery and suspense. Forbidden love trope. The angst and mutual pining. Harry in corsets!

Love you in the dark by Perzikze (9225, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Dubious consent i think, loss of virginity

Story of a historical wedding night. Innocent Harry has no idea what goes down during the wedding night; Louis eases him through it.

Reccer says: Innocent harry. Supportive Louis. It's adorable and sexy at once!

Stay tuned for the next list theme! It's similar... but different... ;)

#rec list #category 5 #historical au #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #liam payne #niall horan #zayn malik #1dsource #1dficvillage #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #trackinghome #allwaswell16 #alwaysxlarrie #1d rare pairs #hlcreators #girl direction source

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hlficlibrary · 2 months ago

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✤ Girl Direction ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Who Run the World? (Girls!) by dolce_piccante {M, 11k}

A femslash take on the beginning of Relief Next To Me, complete with girl!Direction, lots of tongue action, and lots of hints to the original work.

2️⃣ Tell Me This Is Paradise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {E, 19k}

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

3️⃣ that good girl faith (and a tight little skirt) by ariadne_odair {E, 43k}

“What the fuck did you do to my shampoo?” Harry shouts, brandishing the offending bottle like it’s a vial of poison. “Is this fucking mud? Did you honestly replace my shampoo with mud?” “Not just your shampoo,” Louis says calmly, then cracks up when Harry visibly pales.

Harry and Louis are camp counsellors. They hate each other. The amount of sex they have in the camp showers probably contradicts that.

4️⃣ I love your demons (like devils can) by ariadne_odair {E, 60k}

"I am right here," she says loudly, and she can almost hear the crack when Louis' head whips around to stare at her.

"Why?" Louis asks, and Harry feels her insides shrivel up and die.

Harry didn’t plan to join the football team. She didn’t plan to sleep with the captain of the football team. She definitely didn’t plan to sleep with the closeted captain of the football team, who promptly acted as if nothing happened and left Harry a pathetic, pining mess.

5️⃣ the wheel breaks the butterfly by embodied / @crossnecklace {E, 4k}

“Out with it, Styles,” Louis groans. Harry’s suddenly regretting this whole thing, and she’s sure she’s beet red now, so she just blurts it out so fast she’s not sure if Louis even understands her right away. “I’ve never gotten head before.”

AU. harry and louis are roommates. girls' night ends a little differently than usual.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 You Make Lovin' Fun by @homosociallyyours {E, 109k}

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

💎 That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright {T, 50k}

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

💎 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 17k}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

💎 bambi legs by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 11k}

“Oh my god,” Zayn says, rolling her eyes and standing up. “You do know what this means, right?”

“Yes?” Harry tries, looking up pathetically and hoping Zayn will take pity on her.

“This means she doesn’t even need the fabric she buys from you every other week,” Zayn says slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “She doesn’t come here for the fabric. She comes here for you.”

Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

💎 in my head we can love forever by @beardyboyzx {E, 1k}

It's official: this is creepy. She's creepy. It's not like anything is going to happen just because Louis is a lesbian too. Harry's got to stop touching herself while thinking about her roommate.

Except that she can't.

Or: Harry might be a bit in love with her roommate.

#ficrec #girldirection #beardyboyzx #disgruntledkittenface #homosociallyyours #yesisaworld #yeahalright #embodied #quickedween #dolcepiccante #ariadneodair

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years ago

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MATILDA

Summary: During the holiday season, Harry helps you realize that it’s okay to build your own family.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.5kish

Warnings: Mentions of past childhood neglect, slight smut mentioned, angst, crying, anything else?? Let me know!!

A/N: hi!!! Merry Christmas to all of you!! I wanted to post this earlier today, but ended up spending the holidays with my family! I got this request by someone anonymous and I loved the idea!! Hopefully you all do as well. Inspired by: “Matilda” by Harry Styles.

All 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.

Masterlist

Today is the day before your birthday.

It’s Christmas Eve.

And you are not a fan of the holidays.

You didn’t particularly enjoy any of them.

Mostly because you’ve never had a chance to ever actually celebrate them.

You’ve never had an Easter egg hunt on Easter Sunday. You’ve never popped loud fireworks on the 4th of July. You’ve never had a warm turkey dinner on Thanksgiving. You’ve never even decorated a Christmas Tree for Christmas holidays.

You’ve never even had Christmas presents waiting for you under the tree on Christmas Morning.

It doesn’t help the fact that your birthday is on Christmas Day.

Every memory you had of a holiday was tainted with the background noise of your parents fighting and you crying yourself to sleep.

One of your earliest memories was when you were eight and your godmother, Eva, gifted you a brand new pretty pink bicycle. You loved that bike from the moment you saw it. You remember the way your heart felt so full at that age and the overpowering feeling of excitement overcame you.

You learned how to ride it with her cheering you on for your birthday, you remember laughing so loud in happiness that your belly hurt, and when you yelled for your mom to watch you… she was reading the newspaper and waved you away with her hand as she said “It’s no big deal.”

You remember the instant dread you felt in the pit of your belly, the way your happiness was instantly stripped away from you, the way tears immediately filled your eyes which caused your vision to haze, your hands to shake, and it made you lose control of your brand new pretty bike.

Then, you fell. You scraped your knees which turned into a bloody mess, bruising all your legs and arms, and you spent the entire time crying. Only Eva helped you. You remember hearing her scold your mother, but she didn’t care.

The tainted memory stayed with you forever. The scar on your knees proves it.

You never rode that bike again.

After that, you only focused on school. You remember only focusing on your grades and your after school activities. You wanted to get the highest grades and the highest praises so you could go to the best college. You wanted to do whatever you could do to get away from your family.

You wanted to get out of this small town in this forgettable state and move far far away from here. You didn’t care about how you did it. You just had to do it.

Turns out.. you had a hidden talent for singing and songwriting. One hit song when you were seventeen right after graduation ended up landing you the record deal of the year. You had gotten lucky and you felt grateful every day since.

That song and album won you three Grammys in your very first year in the spotlight. It felt overwhelming.

Suddenly, you were being pulled in different directions. You had millions of fans. You performed sold out shows in the biggest arenas in the United States and all abroad. You were living the life you had never thought you would have ever wanted. But it made you happy.

You were the happiest you had been in years. In your whole life, maybe.

And you never went back home. Especially for your birthday. You didn’t enjoy celebrating it because everything about Christmas time reminded you of your horrible childhood.

So.. yeah. You weren’t a fan of the holidays.

And it didn’t help that your wonderful, loving, teddy bear of a boyfriend loved them. He absolutely loved Christmas time.

He was the type to hire decorators to decorate the outside of the house and then to come inside and go the full nine yards in here, too.

You admit.. it made you happy seeing him happy. It made your heart tug a little bit and all you wanted was for him to be happy. But this year, you were both going to celebrate in your shared New York City penthouse.

Harry said Anne and Gemma were aching to spend the holidays up here.

You had somehow managed to get out of the Christmas holidays the past three years. Always scheduling something so you wouldn’t be home, but Harry begged you to not plan anything this year. That he wanted to celebrate with you and finally be together for your birthday, here at home. With him. You love him and you know how much this means to him. You want to make him happy, so you agreed. He’s your entire world.

Harry came into your life like a bulldozer. Fast, unexpectedly, and it was life changing. He had reached out to you back in 2018 during the holiday season.

You remember seeing “Harry Styles just sent you a Direct Message” on your notification and you about had a heart attack. Of course you knew who freaking Harry Styles was. You had basically grown up with One Direction, but with you focusing on school.. you didn’t really have time to obsess over them. But you did know them and occasionally listened to their music.

So yeah, you knew who Harry Styles was. Young, devilishly handsome, and surprisingly single. And he was messaging you. Gushing about how much he loved your music and admired the way you carried yourself in your interviews. You had just released your second album at the age of twenty one and were about to start touring for it. He was already touring for his first solo album. (Which you loved)

He wanted to come to one of your shows. You gave him a seat in the family and friends section and a backstage pass.

You had been messaging back and forth since his first message a couple months back. You had spent all of your free time texting him and if your timing aligned with his time.. then you’d talk for hours on the phone.

It felt almost like you knew him. The connection that you felt with Harry was something you had never experienced before. And it felt crazy to you. This was all new to you and it was exciting. And a little scary.

And finally, he was able to get away from his own tour to come see you.

And he met you backstage after your show and immediately pulled you into his arms, praised you with his words, and the way you felt in his arms made you cry.

It was overwhelming and pretty embarrassing. It felt safe. Harry’s embrace made you feel safe. And you don’t even remember the last time you had ever felt that way. If you had ever even felt that way before that moment.

When Harry noticed, he immediately ordered everybody in the room to get out and the look on his face… he looked so worried. So sincere. So honest.

It made you incredibly emotional and you profusely apologized for ruining his shirt with your tears. And he said he didn’t care about his shirt.

That he cared about you.

And ever since the day you met him, that’s the one main thing Harry has always made sure you feel. That you feel safe.

It did take some time for you to open up to Harry about your childhood, but when you did.. you felt grateful. It felt good to finally talk to someone other than your therapist about everything you had gone through. He had always wondered why you never talked about your family or why he hadn’t met anyone other than Eva in the year of you guys dating. And when he finally knew, he held you and didn’t let you go for hours.

Harry felt like home.

Now it was the day before Christmas Eve 2021. You and Harry were cuddling on the comfy gray couch in the living room that overlooked the NYC skyline and the Christmas tree that you had both decorated together at the beginning of December was glimmering in the darkness. All the awaiting presents under it make you smile.

Anne and Gemma had already settled into bed for the night. They stated they needed some more sleep to adjust to the time difference and you couldn’t agree more. You and Harry had decided to stay up a little longer.

You cuddled into Harry’s chest as he held you while a Christmas movie played for you guys. You guys are watching ‘Elf’ and you admit it’s a good Christmas movie. No wonder it’s one of Harry’s favorites.

Harry feels extremely warm underneath you and it makes you want to stay here forever.

He’s rubbing your scalp gently with the tips of his fingers and your hand is underneath his sweater. Gently rubbing your own fingers on his almost non existent little belly.

But his body always held into a tiny little pouch under his belly button and you secretly loved it. You played with the happy trail there and ran your fingers over his abs slowly as well.

The atmosphere around you feels peaceful. It feels entirely calm and it’s a feeling that sinks deep into your bones.

You just weren’t used to this over the holidays and it felt almost weird to allow yourself to enjoy this.

Suddenly, Harry gets a slight hold of your chin and tilts your head up to meet his lips. His kiss surprises you, but you melt into him. He kisses you softly and lets his tongue slip into your mouth slightly. You smile into the kiss and hum in content when he pulls away from you.

Meeting his eyes, “What was that for?” You whisper as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb.

His eyes twinkle with happiness and his arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you to sit on his lap completely, and he smiles so sweetly.

You let your hair fall over your shoulders as you look down at him. He’s so handsome.

“Happy birthday, my sun.”

You intertwine your hands in his own, glancing at the clock next to you that shows it’s exactly midnight, and you smile sheepishly at Harry. You lean down and kiss him again.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Harry says with a teasing smile as he holds onto your waist with one arm, shuts off the tv with his free hand, and easily lifts you up into the air.

“H!” You shriek with a giggle as you koala hug him to not fall down. He laughs lowly, “I’ll never drop you, sun.”

You both giggle until you fall into the mattress in your room, locking the door in a rush, but then Harry takes his time taking you apart and letting you come undone.

Helping you fall apart with his fingers, his tongue, and then with his cock.

And when he has to clamp his hand over your mouth tightly to keep you from screaming out during your orgasm, he’ll do that all night long just to make you happy.

•••

You wake up the next morning, slowly, and to the wonderful smell of bacon in the air.

You inhale the scent with a small smile as you stretch your limbs awake. You sit down on your bed, pulling the white comforter over your naked torso, and looking around for Harry. The floor to ceiling windows are cloudy with the Christmas chill, but it sends a wave of comfort throughout the room.

And it’s as if he knew you were searching for him.

Because he walks into the bedroom with a bed tray stacked with food.

You instantly perk up with a smile, “Hi.”

Harry leans down and kisses you, “Hi. Happy birthday, my sun.”

You giggle and shush him. “You already wished me a happy birthday.”

“I’m going to keep wishing my wonderful girlfriend a happy birthday all day long,” he says teasingly with a smirk as he sets down the tray in front of you.

You adjust yourself in the bed and admire the yummy food in front of you. “Did you do all of this for me?”

Your heart fills with warm love and your cheeks flush.

“Mom did. She made all of your favorites.”

Now his cheeks are flushing bright pink and you’re instantly overcome with a sense of love.

“She made all of this for me?” You ask in shock as you look at the chocolate chip pancakes, sunny side up eyes, fresh fruit, and amazing smelling bacon.

“Of course, sun. She loves you,” he says with a kiss to your forehead.

“Shouldn’t we go eat with them in the dining room?”

“Nah. You love eating in bed and today’s all about you,” he says as he starts cutting up your pancakes.

“But—“

“No buts.”

You shut your mouth with a smile as he feeds you the pancakes and takes some for himself with a teasing grin.

“We’re only doing what you love today. That’s all.”

And that’s how the rest of the day goes with Harry pampering you and only letting you do something if you truly want to do it.

You felt so lucky.

Now it’s the afternoon, you’re all gathered in the living room after eating a yummy and fulfilling dinner in your matching Christmas pajamas. Harry bought them for all of you guys and they’re grinch themed. You have to admit that seeing Harry so giddy and excited filled your heart with so much warmth and love. You truly felt so happy today.

You all had already exchanged gifts with each other. You two had gotten Anne and Gemma a full paid trip to Paris for a little winding down when you and Harry were going to go next summer. And you had framed two of your favorite pictures of the four of you together and gifted them each one. They loved it.

Anne had gifted you and Harry two homemade sweaters that she had knitted herself and it meant so much to you. Way more than any other money made gift.

Gemma gifted you a homemade shirt that she had stitched a quote for your favorite show and she had made Harry a matching one as well.

It was something cheesy, “you’re my lobster” and Harry immediately loved it. You did as well.

You have to admit that this felt insanely weird. You and Harry always exchanged gifts, but it was never in this type of setting. With his mom and sister.

It felt so intimate and loving.

So intimidating that it felt scary, but this was something that you didn’t know you needed.

“I wrote something for you,” Harry states as he gets the guitar from Gemma. It’s one of his favorites. It’s the one that was gifted to him from a friend. It’s the one with the starry design.

“You wrote me a song?” You ask with a grin as you grip onto your hot chocolate while you adjust yourself on the couch cushion.

“Another one?” Gemma says jokingly and Anne sushes her with a jab.

You see Harry’s cheeks blush faintly as he sits down on a small stool he pulled out from the pantry.

He slowly starts to make sure his cords are in key and he lets out a shaky breathe. He looks up to meet your eyes.

“This song… is for you. Completely and utterly for you. I hope you like it, my sun.”

There’s so much honesty in his eyes that it makes you feel completely warm and full inside.

He slowly starts to strum his guitar.

You were riding your bike to the sound of "It's No Big Deal"

A small gasp leaves your lips as your fingers grip into the mug. Instant tears fill your eyes as you hear the first sentence of your song.

And you're trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels

Harry gives you a small smile as you stare at him with a wavering expression.

Nothing about the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now

Your bottom lip is quivering.

So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal

You can feel your water line filled with tears and you slowly set your mug down on the side table. You watch Harry intently.

You can let it go

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

And not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love

You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up, mmh

You shut your eyes for a second, allowing his words fill your body, tears slowly start falling down your cheeks, and you allow yourself to feel the emotions. Allowing yourself to finally feel the emotions you’ve been keeping pilled down deep.

You feel someone sit by you and grip your hand in theirs. You open your eyes to see Anne next to you, smiling so sweetly at you, and hold your hand tightly in her own. Her own tears filling her eyes as she holds you. Her love these past years have shown you what your own mother couldn’t.

A mothers love.

Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright

But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead inside

Harry gives you a small smile as his own tears fill his eyes. The childhood movie you loved to watch fills your mind as it used to help you escape. You frown at the memories and grip onto Anne’s hand harder.

You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days

It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind

You can let it go

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

And not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love

You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

Images of the last years rush through your mind. Everything you’ve managed to accomplish.

You can see the world, following the seasons

Anywhere you go, you don't need a reason

'Cause they never showed you love

You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

Harry lets his guitar rest on the space next to him on the floor and he reaches for your hand. You grip onto his hand with your free one and he continues to sing. His beautiful angelic voice filled the entire room. His raw voice fills your ears like heaven.

You're just in time, make your tea and your toast

His voice cracks and slow tears fall down his cheeks.

You framed all your posters and dyed your clothes, ooh

You don't have to go

You don't have to go home

Oh, there's a long way to go

Gemma walks out of the room and into the kitchen.

I don't believe that time will change your mind

In other words

I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go

You can let it go

Harry kisses each one of your knuckles and holds your hand against his cheek, his smile wavering as he continues to sing.

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

You can start a family who will always show you love

You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

You can let it go

You see Gemma walking into the room with a beautiful baby pink cake with colorful sprinkles all over the top and matching long candles that are glowing in the dark night. You cry even harder.

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

You can start a family who will always show you love

You don't have to be sorry, no

Tears filled your eyes as you looked around the room. A wavering smile on your lips as you watched everyone in front of you wearing a giant smile and matching tears.

And just for a second… it was quiet.

There wasn’t any loud voices behind you yelling at each other. There weren’t any doors being slammed shut nor glasses being thrown to the floor or the walls.

All you could hear was the wood crackling in the fireplace, the soft sound of the Christmas music playing on the record player, the small sniffs of the people around you trying to hold in their tears as you let your own fall freely, and you could hear your own heart silently patching itself back together.

You sniffle as you watch Harry reach for the cake and he proceeds to move the cake at your eye level.

His beautiful green eyes rimmed red, nose tinted pink, and he’s smiling at you.

“Make a wish, my love.”

Anne’s hand lets go of your own and she instead starts rubbing your back in comfort. You wrap your own hands delicately around Harry's wrists as you let the candle's warmth coat your face so lightly.

“You’ve already made all of them come true,” you whisper as you slowly blow out the candles.

Your only wish is to only ever feel this way for the next holidays.

#harry styles x singer!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x female reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic

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monstroso · 1 year ago

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literally what makes the aristocats bad. its got nice songs. it has silly characters. it’s got really pretty backgrounds and the old hand-drawn disney animation. it’s inspired by a true story. what’s there to dislike.

(*cough* aside from the racism that permeates most if not all of the old Disney movies but since that’s present in so many of them no special case should to be made against the aristocats for it to be a worse movie because of that shared trait *cough*)

also I hope this didn’t come across as like. confrontational or anything bc it’s not supposed to be. legitimately want to hear your thoughts 👍

No, I love this! I appreciate being asked my thoughts, especially since the good people in the tags have told me loud and clear that I am in the minority on this one.

I will say, I did not expect the poll to have quite the legs it's got on it now. My polls usually only get about 60 votes. If I'd known 4,700 strangers and counting would have an opinion on this, I might have worded it differently. The real reason I didn't include The Aristocats is because I knew it would run away with the thing. Most people consider it a classic, regardless of what my opinions on it actually are. I thought throwing in a cheeky little line about it would be a fun gag for my followers who know I'm a true hater at heart.

Before I even got this ask - and because the overwhelming majority of the tags on the poll are telling me I have no taste - I actually did start rewatching it! Hundreds of strangers on the internet have never been wrong before, right? Part of the problem is I have next to no nostalgia for it. We didn't own the VHS when I was a child, so the only times I ever saw it were when I'd go to a friend's house or borrow it from the library. Maybe my judgement was clouded by not having seen it in a very long time.

First things first: The good stuff. There are parts of this film that rank alongside the best of the Disney classics, and I would be remiss in not mentioning them.

The music, for one, is pretty good. You'd have to be some kind of real Scrooge not to enjoy "Ev'rybody Wants to Be a Cat" of course, but on a rewatch I did find myself grinning through "Thomas O'Malley Cat" as well. This is an easy point in the film's favor though, as I'm an absolute sucker for both big band and jazz. This is great use of your Scatman Crothers and Phil Harris, top points awarded for these two numbers in particular.

The animation is also pretty good. Especially on Edgar and Thomas O'Malley. Your mileage may vary on the Xerox style, but the animation itself is relatively unimpeachable. This was still during the era of the Nine Old Men, so there's all kind of impressive work being done with the big sweeping things like character movement and expression as well as in the more subtle animations like expressions and mouth movement.

The cats are doing all the cat stuff you'd expect like licking their paws and poof'ing their tails, but there's less expected movements here too, like arching their backs when walking alongside things or rolling in the dirt to dry off from the river. This is good character work, but it's also pretty standard for guys like Milt Kahl and Eric Larson. If you're at all interested in animation, I highly encourage you to read more about the Nine Old Men and their history with the studio.

(A big thanks to the tumblr gif artists for gif'ing the parts of this movie that look good so I can spice this post up with some relevant visuals!)

Now, the bad. Like many movies from this era, The Aristocats has something of a pacing problem. While it is necessary to do the work of setting up the conflict in the beginning, you might be surprised to learn that it takes 25 minutes for Thomas O'Malley to show up, which is when the story actually starts.

A huge part of the problem is that this movie suffers from a sort of directionless vignetticism that seems to have been driven only by the idea that it would be cute to see the animals do X, Y, and Z. "Oh wouldn't it be sweet to see the kitten paint?" "Wouldn't it be so adorable if the cat played the piano?" "Ohh, what if the mouse ate a cracker dipped in milk, wouldn't that be darling?" I have a very high tolerance for schmaltz, but The Aristocats is where even I must draw the line.

When the movie isn't being tooth-rottingly sweet, it's frequently boring, and when it's not being either of those things it's showing you another chase scene with the dogs and the butler. It's erratic, tiring, and strains the limits of the modern attention span even at the movie's incredibly sparse runtime. It's a 79 minute film and you feel all 79 of those minutes.

Tonally, much of the movie smacks of the kind of rose-tinted sentimentalism Disney was known (and even criticized at the time) for, but without the guiding hand of the man himself, nearly 5 years gone by this point. The studio was floundering in the wake of Walt's death, and The Aristocats is quite close to the nadir of this particular creative valley - though the distinction arguably goes to Robin Hood, I'm much softer on that film for a number of reasons.

The Aristocats reminds me a lot of Lady & the Tramp, in that it's the same story (down to the aforementioned racist caricatures of Siamese cats), but with cats instead of dogs and with a much less focused sense of purpose, tone, and creative direction. If you like The Aristocats for the music and the beautiful scenery, but you haven't seen Lady & the Tramp, give that one a try instead. The animation is better, the music is about on-par, and it doesn't have as many stupid chase scenes. Or just watch 101 Dalmatians, which outstrips both films on sheer charm alone.

I think I had more I wanted to say, but it was mostly rambling that got away from the point. On rewatch, I don't think this movie is as bad as I remember it being, but I stand by my decision not to include it in the poll.

tl;dr - The Aristocats isn't the worst. If you grew up watching it I totally understand having a soft spot for the music and the atmosphere. In a vacuum, I can't say I think it holds up but ultimately I'm not going to judge anyone for enjoying it. Thanks for the ask!

#the aristocourse #asks #chaoswithcausation #the aristocats #midsneypocalypse

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twopoppies · 2 years ago

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Hi Gina. Has anyone posted about Harry getting Consequences artist of the year?

Oh, I haven’t seen it if they have. That’s cool!

As another wild year in entertainment heads towards a close, it would be nearly impossible to discuss many of the biggest pop culture moments of 2022 without talking about Harry Styles. If breaking Billboard records and releasing a third solo album (which then earned him six more Grammy nominations) wasn’t enough, Styles also spent the past few months heading one of the most in-demand and oft-discussed tours of 2022. Don’t worry, darling, there was also a foray into movies that saw the artist on the film festival circuit, too. For one reason or another, Harry Styles was the name on everyone’s lips.

[…]

The results were strong — Styles’ latest full-length outing is a pop-rock record that dazzled upon arrival and ended up having the legs to remain relevant as the year wore on.

Lead single “As It Was” sat atop the Billboard Hot 100 for a whopping 15 weeks, the longest reign by a British artist and by an an artist with no features or accompanying acts.

[…]

Harry’s House was a breath of fresh air, kicking off with the buoyant “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” and wrapping with the minimalist, emotional “Love of My Life.” Tucked in the 13 tracks are small peeks into Styles’ daily life, confessional moments of intimacy, and thoughtful encouragements, like the tender “Matilda.” The gentle ease of “Cinema” and glow left behind by “Daylight” ensure that the B-sides are far from filler. It’s an album that felt true to this moment in Styles’ career — it’s self-assured and calmer than the intensity of his self-titled debut or the seductive melancholy of Fine Line.

When it comes to an ultra-famous artist like Styles, who is relatively private and refrained from extensive press around the release of his album this year, it’s always nice to receive external confirmation that there’s some truth to a reputation centered on kindness and generosity. We spoke to five acts who have opened for Styles, and there was a lovely common thread running through the conversations: Styles seems to be a good leader who tries his very best to set the tone for the enormous crew required to pull off shows at this level. “Styles is genuinely a really nice guy, so that helps,” shared Jacob Lusk, frontman of Gabriels. “People can fake it for a little while, but they can’t fake it for six days.”

“One thing I really appreciated is that both of the days we played shows with him, Harry would run the stairs in the arena during soundcheck,” Madi Diaz also recalled. “He was taking time to watch the set, which was really sweet.”

“Harry was so kind to us that it left a mark on all of us when we left,” added Madison Cunningham. “For him to ask us to be there was a a mind-blowing thing in and of itself, and then for him to lay the groundwork for his fans to be kind to us as well… that was mind-blowing, too.”

Full article here

#consequence #harry’s house awards

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princehrry-writings · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 11 times in 2022

8 posts created (73%)

3 posts reblogged (27%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fanfictionisalifestyle

@just-my-type-x

@princehrry-writings

I tagged 11 of my posts in 2022

#colby brock x reader - 3 posts

#harry styles - 3 posts

#colby brock - 3 posts

#sam and colby - 3 posts

#skye answers - 2 posts

#xplr - 2 posts

#harry styles x reader - 2 posts

#skye rants - 2 posts

#lizzy mcalpine song fic - 1 post

#when the world stopped moving - 1 post

Longest Tag: 43 characters

#it’s colby’s hand around nate’s neck for me

My Top Posts in 2022:

feeling very blocked at the moment and would love to hear some requests!!! let me know what you want to see!!!

2 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

happy valentine’s day miss skye 🫂💌

omg thank you🥺🥺🥺 happy valentines days!!!!!!!!!!!!

3 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

guys im in my colby brock era rn... so you're probably gonna see some stuff for him from me :) i'm working on a piece for him rn!!

19 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Let Light Be Light

i've been on a lizzy kick and also experiencing college for the first time so this is what came of that.

warnings: BRIEF mentions of a serial k*ller, slight angst, fluff!!!!! mentions of family trauma

wordcount: 1894

masterlist

But my therapist says To just let light be light So I'm letting him stay around

I’m alone almost every night and I don't know if I’m processing right.

The days grew shorter and the nights colder. Y/n spent most of her time studying, trying to stay on top of her school work. Fall semester was in full swing and while she was sad to be away from home, she was happy to be allowed to think her own thoughts and feel her own feelings instead of everyone else’s. It was a breath of fresh air she didn’t know she needed until she took it.

Another late night at the library, nailing down her answers for her music theory midterm. She found that she loved the smell of old books and dust. Something about it made her feel so studious. She thinks it must be some kind of placebo effect or something because anytime she studies in the library, she feels like the information sticks better.

Her friends had invited her to a study session but she's never been able to focus in group settings like that. She had to figure shit out on her own growing up and that's been a running theme with everything she does in her young adult life. She does shit by herself. She’s never had anyone to lean on before so why would she start now?

That’s not to say Y/n doesn’t appreciate her friends because she does, but if something isn’t broken, no need to take it apart and put it back together.

It’s nearing closing time at the library, meaning it’s closer to midnight then she realized it was. It’s dark out and she forgot her pepper spray in her room, but her dorm isn’t too far away from the library. A 10 minute walk when she’s really moving, so she packs up and gets ready to head out when a voice stops her.

“Wait, you’re not gonna walk alone are you?” She turns around to see this boy, who she recognized from a few classes and he worked here, standing at the counter, lookin at her like she's about to jump off a cliff. He seems cute enough, more than she would ever admit to herself, really. He’s tall, long legs and arms, built muscles. His hair falls right above his ears and is curly, but not too curly. It’s very flowy from what she assumes is him running his fingers through it all day to keep it out of his face, and it looks really soft.

“Yeah…?” She says, wondering why he’s so concerned for her. She’ll be ok, it’s not a bad walk.

“It’s not safe… haven’t you seen the news? There’s a suspect for a murder case running loose on this side of town. His targets are college age girls. Let me walk you home?” His accent makes her a lot less annoyed than she normally would be by somebody telling her she can’t take care of herself.

“How do I know you're not him?” She quips, hoping he’ll give up so she can just go home. Well, as home as a dorm room can be.

He raises an eyebrow, making him more attractive than she thought a random boy in the library could ever be, chuckling a little bit and picking up his bag. She notices that everyone else is already gone and it’s just the two of them, and wishes just for a second that she didn’t listen to true crime podcasts because she’s a little scared he could actually be the murderer he just warned her about. But when he comes over and she gets a good look at him, she just can’t see him being a murderer. She couldn’t really see him hurting a fly if she had to be honest.

He grabs his bag and a ring of keys off the desk and pads over to where she stands.

“M’ Harry, by the way. Figure you should know my name before I kill you behind the library.” He smirks. Oh, so he’s funny too. Now Y/n really has to put up a wall. Funny guys are dangerous.

“I’m Y/n. Figure you should know the name of your latest victim.” She smirks back, matching energy but mentally she detaches herself because she can’t let herself form any sort of attachment to him.

“What hall are you in?” He asks, leading her to the front door and turning off the lights, locking the door behind them.

“It’s only like a 10 minute walk from here. I live in Greeley.” She answers quickly, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. Fall nights can be brutal but there's something that endears her to them. Something about the promise of the seasons changing, new beginnings, a fresh start. A cycle you can always count on. If nothing else, you always know that summer will turn to fall, and fall to winter, and so on.

They walk quickly, making small talk and learning little things about each other. Like Harry is in three out of 7 of her classes. He talks to her like they’ve been friends forever and she can’t figure out why he’s being so nice to her. Can’t figure out what he wants, not that she really has much to give in the first place.

Too soon do they arrive at the front door of her dorm building. He says goodbye with a charming smile that she has to consciously not blush at and she makes her way upstairs.

The butterflies win anyway, flooding her with a warmth she swore she would never feel again. She just met him today. What is she doing with herself?

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Suddenly, Y/n sees Harry everywhere. She knows it's crazy to think he’s following her, but that’s what her brain tells her because why would she be seeing him everywhere all of the sudden. She definitely doesn’t think it’s because he’s all she's been able to think about since he walked her home from the library.

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54 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I Feel Like A Hero and You're My Heroine

i'm back on my sam and colby shit after like 200 years

warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, party, hella fucking fluff bro like omg

wordcount: 1093

masterlist

You had no idea how you ended up at this party. One moment you and your friends were having a girls night, getting tipsy and talking shit. The next moment, you're in an uber on your way to a house party.

When you pull up you still have no idea whose house this is, you’re just along for the ride. The music is loud and there's people everywhere, dancing, drinking. People out back are smoking, sitting around a fire.

You make your way through the crowd, finding the kitchen and deciding to make yourself another drink.

“Welcome ladies! My name is Colby, I’m one of the hosts. If you need anything or have any questions, I’m your man!”

You look behind you and see the guy who was talking to you and your friends. You were shocked, of course you knew who he was and you knew that your friends ran in the same circles as them but you never thought you would ever meet him or anyone doing what he was doing. After his little introduction, his eyes zeroed in on you, an almost imperceptible smirk appearing on his face.

“Hi!” He smiled, walking closer to you. You’re already tipsy so that makes it even easier to talk to him and flirt like you want to.

“Hey, thanks for the warm welcome!” You smile back, opening yourself up for him to invade your space. He got close but not too close. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but to you he couldn't be close enough. You felt a pull to him, like something had just clicked into place.

Maybe you're more drunk than you thought.

Colby smiled at the little giggles you were letting out, stepping closer when you draped your arm over his own, almost pulling him into you. Your friends were all standing around, watching the interaction and smirking, knowing a sober you would never be this forward.

“I’m Y/n by the way.” You smile up at him, putting on your best game.

“Nice to meet you Y/n.”

You two are glued to each other for the rest of the night, talking and laughing, getting progressively more drunk. You’re having the time of your life, the most fun you think you’ve ever had actually. Colby understood you in a way no one ever had before. The way he listened to your words, as slurred as they were at the moment, and the way he stared into your eyes as you spoke made you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

“I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!” You yelled out as Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls came on. It brought you back to your emo phase that you never really grew out of, you just learned how to style yourself better.

“YOU KNOW THIS SONG?” Colby yelled back at you, eyes wide, grime spread across his face.

“YEAH I FUCKING KNOW THIS SONG!” You jumped up off the couch where you had been sitting with Colby, grabbing his hand and dragging him up with you. You started jumping around and dancing, screaming the lyrics, and not giving a fuck who looked at you weird. Colby didn’t look at you weird.

That’s all that mattered.

He danced with you, pulling you closer to him.

“You caught me off guard, now I’m running and screaming. I feel like a hero and you're my heroine, do you know that your love is the sweetest sin.” You both yelled together.

Without thinking, Colby leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You reacted before you knew what you were doing, pulling him closer to you. The kiss was needy, like he’d been waiting all night for this. His hands roamed your body, pressing you flat against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand threading through his hair, the other lightly cupping his cheek.

By the time he pulled away, you were both gasping for breath.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, opening your eyes and staring straight into Colby’s.

“I might be really drunk but I think I just fell in love with you…” He whispers back to you. You can’t tell if the blush on his cheeks is the alcohol or the dancing or if he's embarrassed but you find yourself leaning back into him.

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110 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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1d1195 · 7 months ago

Note

EXACTLY WHAT I THINK TOO! Which is why I full on thought you had a brother lol And it's sweet that your sister helps you out! What is your style though or like aesthetic that you tend to gravitate towards?

My dad wants to look more into the native tribes around the area he was born because apparently his grandmother spoke a fluently a native language?! Crazy lol And honestly bestie I support you unleashing extended family DRAMA! It's for the ✨plot✨. Oddly enough I've mentioned to my mom she should do one but she fears it will cause drama on her side and dare I say i would like to see that unfold lol

I LOVE a good deal so whenever I have time/energy I am in there! I forgot that you were like a full on young adult when they were popular which makes more sense because although it was definitely a CHOICE on my end I was a child lol. BUT I understand why you were hesitant and that's okay!

I GET IT SO MUCH ABOUT BEING EMOTIONAL!! And it hard to have so much love to give yet the people who you want to show it too don't accept it or it's just not expressed in a way that feels like its for you. That post right there is such a good example, I loved reading it! And I think overall the act of being SEEN is so fulfilling and craving that is valid! Expressing love or anything remotely "soft" depending on your environment can be draining and sometimes feels embarrassing since your the only one. But it seems you have so much to give because that's natural to you and that's not weird at all. It's hard to be the first one to do things that may seem "weird" but it's YOU, you can't keep suppressing the love that you have, it may feel/sound selfish but trying for yourself is enough! easier said than done you deserve that nourishment that you give to other too!

AND SAM YOU LITTERALLY SAID WHAT MY THERAPIST HAS SAID TO ME HAHA But really though i feel so much and so the instances where I have gotten hurt for sure have closed myself off but I do appreciate you saying those things💗

I had such a BUSY weekend that the book was not on my mind at all lol BUT I DID GO TO A CONCERT AND IT WAS GREAT! I needed that honestly and so worth the lack of sleep lol Which explains why my reply is so late so sorry for the wait! But I hope yours was good at least!

Now... THE BALCONY EXTRA 😭 Tell my why I had a feeling she was going to be pregnant😭 and the way HARRY FIGURED IT OUT 😭 ugh it was so cute seeing how he was trying to not freak out haha and I love the comedy aspect that you add to your stories like that pee joke was hilarious i giggled lol That was such a cute little extra it made my heart feel so warm! Great as always!! Also side note, that divider was so cute!!

Ily so much Sam! Hope the week is treating you well!-💜

LOL style. I think it's called "millennial-retro classic" ☠ I don't think I have style. I am a skinny jeans, cardigan, side-parted hair (granted my hair is frizzy/wavy/curly so I look like a serial killer with a middle part), ballet flats kinda girl. But I'm also a teacher so I feel like I dress like one most of the time. This looks like how I dress:

I'm pretty reserved when it comes to clothing but I almost don't care? It's just pretty much I buy what I want to buy. I'm a leggings/jeans and t-shirt combo on my days off hehehe. What's your style like?

I don't want to pry into your family life too much but it sounds like you could snag a GREAT deal on your FAFSA if your fam is such a high % Native 👀 Also on the family thread, I love the vibe. I'll let you know if the drama is ever unfolded in my life. I just like the vindication of being right. It's petty and mean of me but the family I love but don't like is often two-faced and I think they could all be knocked down a peg.

I went to an extremely judgmental high school (I know every high school is like that) but I grew up in a pretty affluent/vacation/trendy area and it felt like I was less for not having real Uggs or a NorthFace jacket. Then I went to college and everyone was like "just get it at Target" and I was like "WHERE?!" Eye-opening. The real stuff they don't tell you about college hahaha

I never expect anyone to take my advice but I know since we're so similar it's nice to hear from other people what you want to hear (even if you don't use the advice) it's kind of like confirmation? So of course, do what you have to do and live your life how you see fit. I just don't want you to have any regrets 💕

A CONCERT how nice! Who was the concert for? It sounds like a nice pick me up! My weekend was once more exhausting. My school district has their spring break next week. ALSO I was in the partial eclipse path yesterday and it was SO cool and just what the little astronomer in me needed 💕

THANK YOU SO MUCH. (Tbh I think I'm hilarious--I'm my own target audience) but of course it's so nice to hear that you think my humor fits in well enough to my stories! I really didn't know what to do with them so I thought making her pregnant might be a vibe hahaha I'm glad you enjoyed as always!!

Glad you had a good weekend and hope you're having a good week too!

xoxo

#💜#the balcony

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bellveela · 1 year ago

Text

Gripping Tracey's firm buttocks firmly, he led her across the dance floor, eager to see how Irma was managing with the induction process at the entrance of the hall. The system they had set up - harnessing the power of a new, enhanced version of the manuscript - was designed to utterly captivate anyone the moment they stepped through the doors. The runes were significantly more efficient at harnessing power, and if the manuscript was situated in a magically potent place like Hogwarts, it was practically unusable all the time.

When Daphne made her appearance, naturally, things began to unravel. Glancing at the queue of attendees waiting to enter, Harry counted nearly thirty pairs. However, Harry was willing to bet that Daphne, as vain as she was, wouldn't even consider entering until the majority had already arrived. So far, he'd been right, and potential candidates dwindled as the hall filled.

Harry was determined to become the king of this domain, with these teenagers forming the core of his reign. He needed strong, passionate young individuals to disseminate his will throughout.

Irma was tasked with taking photographs. They had set up a special booth just for her – it was surrounded by curtains, ensuring no prying eyes could see within.

Each indoctrination session lasted about a minute and a half. Some people in the queue seemed impatient, but of course, all were willing to wait. After all, they had to have pictures from the ball, especially ones that would be featured in a special edition of the Daily Prophet.

With a grin, Alan dipped Tracey right in front of the queue, sharing a fiery kiss and feeling her against him. She moaned appreciatively, wrapping one leg around his waist. One of her breasts slipped from her dress, but she didn't care about the numerous eyes on her. Nor did Harry, for that matter. He enjoyed the attention.

Some students looked as if they might complain, but a glimpse at the vacant, lustful smiles of the watching teachers silenced them. All under Harry's command. There certainly was no appealing to these empty-headed authorities.

Lifting Tracey, he moved behind the photographic curtain, following the next couple. Tracey followed, still dazed from the kiss.

The couple was good-looking, the man more so than the woman, but not enough to pique Harry's interest beyond using them to further his agenda. The boy was in a poorly fitted tuxedo, and the dirty blonde was in a short green dress that didn't quite flatter her hips. The sensually leggy Irma stood behind a small tripod, holding a camera that was the transfigured manuscript. "Now," said Irma, "give a big smile to the camera." "Camera?" the girl echoed.

Irma merely smiled, "Hold that thought." Snap.

The couple clung to each other, drifting, their eyes filled with spirals.

Harry's groin stirred as he observed the immediate transformation of both the boy and girl. He took a moment to reconsider them. Clearly, he had no interest in the boy who, in the days to come, might just become a decent drone-worker. However, upon a second, unhurried glance, he magnanimously conceded that the girl might, perhaps, be of use as a sort of trophy bearer.

Irma, as her role demanded on such a significant night, looked stunning. She wore a pristine white dress — employing the same concept as her previous "ball gown" at her Master's directive, but this time, instead of white, she adorned blue leather gloves and tight-fitting shoes. Her dark hair was styled into an ornate beehive, perfectly complementing her prominent cheekbones and sultry jawline.

A sleek, dark metallic collar fitted snugly around her neck. Harry seized her, pulling her close to him. She smiled up at him, reveling in his grip. Delighting in how much he possessed her, how much he relished possessing her. He gave the collar a slight twist, cutting off her air slightly. He loved the faint shock in her eyes when she felt the shortness of breath. Continue reading this chapter

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daisiesonafield-blog · 3 years ago

Text

@ people who were saying H wasn’t hot:

You need new eyes.

#harry styles my beloved #harry appreciation post #how can you not be in love with this precious darling?#harry is so gorgeous #look at those legs #harry's legs #I get why Louis writes songs about Harry's legs #look at his back #just everything about him #harry in italy #italy harry my beloved #sun bunny #toasty toad #fried calamari #<3 #how does louis?#harry hot damn #HOLY SHIT

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chaoticloving · 2 years ago

Text

aftermath

harry styles x actress!reader

summary: harry and y/n not only deal with being hungover, but their personal lives not being so personal anymore. harry feels guilty--and a little in love too. (see masterlist for universe summary <3)

w/c: 3k

w: hungoverness (?), spelling errors (sorry english isn't my first language), like two suggestive jokes--smut in future chapters

a/n: first of all 1k notes on the first installment?!?! thank you all so much, that's crazy!! also you do not need to read the previous 'chapter' to understand this, but it would make more sense if you do (and I would also appreciate it)!

masterlist

Feb 2012…still

Harry slept like he never did before. He can’t quite remember his dreams when he gets violently woken up by Niall, but he remembers what he felt during his sleep. He had his own little theories of what he was dreaming about, more like who he was dreaming of, but he doesn't have to tell Niall that–who has a shit-faced smirk on his face.

“Why the fuck did you have to wake me like that?” Harry groans, looking at his surroundings and realizing they are in what appears to be in Zayn’s hotel room, judging from the amount of his clothing littered throughout the room. “What’s your problem, huh?”

“I was just curious about who your little friend is from last night.” The blond chided, practically tearing the raggedy blanket that was on its last leg off from Harry. “You have to give me the details.”

“H-how do you know about her?” Harry’s voice littered with sleep as his eyes just got accustomed to the light.

“I went on Instagram like everyone else and saw your post–”

Harry practically jumped off from the cold hardwood hotel floor and searched the large room for his phone. When he finally found it, his hands were shaking as he typed in his password and clicked the little instagram app icon. His notifications were flooded more than usual, but he checked his account and saw he had one post, and it was all too familiar.

Harry isn’t that active on social media from a posting standpoint, he only really consumes. Occasionally, he will steal one of his friends' phones and type some random stuff and post it but that was mainly on Twitter and nothing personal would be shown; just some random words that made the victim of one of his pranks seem drunk. But he never posted from his account.

Until now, apparently.

He clicked on the photo and it was the same photo that he took of him and Y/n last night. Y/n had a growing smile on her face while Harry’s smile completely showed all of his teeth–it was a silly photo of just friends, hopefully that's what the media would think; but Harry wasn't so optimistic.

Harry was still getting used to the fame and all of the attention. It could be positive, or more times than not it would be negative, and as scared as he is to go on online to see what people are saying, he is more concerned with Y/n.

He clicked on her profile, and it was nice. A little hectic yet somehow professional–clearly used by Y/n. He clicked the follow button, but figured that's not as dramatic as the photo.

He did an ass move and posted a photo of them together–he knows that she knows what people would think, nothing could stir up more drama then that; especially with that being the first and only photo he’s ever posted on his very public account that is gaining new followers this second.

The new wave of followers seemed to be fan accounts of her. A significant portion had Y/n’s name in the username and the others seemed to be fan accounts of The Hunger Games and Les Miserable–most of which had her as the main focus of their account. But what surprised him the most were accounts with both of her name and his name together. It made him blush and almost forget Niall was in the room with him.

“Are you lookin’ at the photo of you two?” Nail asked, peering over Harry’s shoulder to instead find him creeping on accounts that weren’t just fan pages of one of them, but of both of them together. “They’re makin’ edits of you guys already, Jesus, do these people ever sleep?”

“Shut up.” Was all Harry could say in his embarrassed voice.

“Sad thing is you didn’t even introduce us.” Niall tutted. “Can’t wait to tell her about that sock I found--”

“I didn’t mean to post this.” Harry admitted, going to his contacts to text her after it really sunk in what he had done.

“Well obviously.” Naill laughed. “That's what's great about it–”

“No seriously, she’s gonna hate me.” Harry started panicking, writing out this long apology text to Y/n, explaining how he didn’t mean to post that photo of you two and how he is so sorry for all of the hell breaking loose. He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now.

“I just met her last night and we just talked. I didn’t ask her to date or anything–”

“Get your asses up! We gotta leave in thirty!” They heard Liam shout through the door. Harry was terrified as he pushed send without reading the text over beforehand. And of course he embarrassed himself further by finding at least five typos within the first third of the message.

“She’s going to hate me forever, Niall.” Harry whined, genuinely on the verge of crying which would only make his hangover worse and cause him to spiral. He leaned into his friend and Niall had to hold back a laugh.

“It’s cool man. I’m sure she completely understands that it’s a harmless photo–”

“But it’s not!” He groans. Niall, having enough of Harry’s behavior, snatches his phone away. “Give it back.”

“No. You need to focus.” Naill says. “I know you and you’ll end up being all whiney and not being able to work today.” Naill heads towards the door, keeping Harry’s phone out of reach.

“But–”

“Go cry in the bathroom and get changed. I’m not letting you have this back until you’ve gotten out of this.”

Y/n woke up completely hungover from the night before, not to mention she barely got any sleep last night. As she snuck back to her hotel and nearly collapsed when she saw her bed, not bothering to charge her phone, causing it to be dead by the time she woke up. Luckly, her manual alarm woke her up for wardrobe

She changed into comfy clothes that she knew she would be changing out of soon enough, and left for the set. The hotel was rented out for the cast and crew of Les Miserable as it was right on set and such a convenience for everyone, but that meant that everyone could see Y/n making her way out to set if they were up.

She got a couple of glances as she was on her way out, she assumed it was because they knew she snuck out. There was no rule saying that cast and crew members couldn’t leave site, but what ever they did couldn't infringe on their contract; Y/n still made an effort to not make her leave too noticeable out of guilt and knowing that it could possibly lead to an unpleasant rumor about herself. But she was on time and normal, just hungover.

She was relieved to find a dear friend of hers, Helena Bonham Carter, in wardrobe as well. She was like an on-set mother to Y/n, always so caring and nice to her but gave her tips and advice for where she could improve–they were given with all of the kindness in the world so Y/n never minded.

Helena smiled when she saw Y/n walk in. “Hello lovely.” She quickly engulfed Y/n in a hug then pulled back, slightly frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just tired and I have this headache–”

“From that party right?” Y/n sighed as Helena said that. She didn’t know how she–and what seemed like everyone–found out, but Y/n wasn't surprised.

“How do you know I went out?” Y/n asked her eyes scanning the room incase of any listening ears.

“Your little boyfriends post–”

“What boyfriend?” Y/n nervously laughed. She was nervous as first of all, whoever this boyfriend was, and second, what did they post of her. A part of Y/n thought Liam had posted something, not that she remembered being with him or his phone pointed towards her. The old time she knew that there was a photo of her taken was with Harry.

“The singing guy in the boy band. The one with the sideswept lego hair–”

“Harry?”

“Yes, and you two make a cute couple. Don’t know why you were curling his hair though, it seemed curly enough.”

“Does everyone here know?” Y/n asked Helena and she thought about it then nodded. “God.”

“Lots of online articles have been circulating, hun. Especially since you have the Hunger Games movie coming out next month which makes you more relevant and your boyfriends going on tour–”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She sighed. “Can I see your phone? Mines dead.”

Helena nodded and gave it to the nervous girl infront of her. She placed her arm on Y/n’s shoulder in support as Y/n typed in her name along with Harry Styles. So much came up.

The first article said that they’re now dating, but apparently for the past few years. Another said they were engaged and so did the following one. A bunch of stereotypical rumors–some included pregnancy, which she was not looking forward to denying it to her parents and having that conversation–but there was one in particular that caught her eye.

Wanna-be star Y/n is now dating One direction heartthrob Harry Styles as a weak attempt to rise to fame!

That pissed Y/n off. If anything, Harry would be using her for fame, because as of right now, she is worth way more as he is. But even that was beside the point, she looked at the photo again and they both seemed to be happy, and maybe sort of in love–how could that one interaction prove that she is using him for fame?

“Maybe I should take that back…” Helena pried her phone away from Y/n’s hand as the young girl stared off into space, lost in thought. “Sweetie, you should go get into costume and practice your lines.”

Helena ushered Y/n off to the waiting crew member to get her into costume as she just went along, too stunned to do much.

Like usual, the day was long. So long in fact, she hasn't been able to sneak away to her room and charge her phone. A part of her didn’t want to see all of her notifications on her phone though. She didn’t want to talk to her friends and family about it, quite frankly she just wanted to sit with Marmalade and Sugar in her flat in London, maybe have a chat with her close friend Alex who is currently pet-sitting them--some ice cream would be nice too.

But she pushes through the day looking like she’s been dragged through the dirt–while presumably being dragged online for a harmless photo. When she finally can leave, she practically sprints up to the room. She opens the door then slams it shut behind her. She plugs her phone in and then goes into the bathroom to have a shower and try to destress.

It was late, and she must’ve yawned hundreds of times in the shower as she rubbed all of the prosthetic dirt off of her face and body. She reluctantly left the warmth of the shower, dried her body and hair then did her face routine. It all went quicker than she would’ve liked, because she knew that she had to go on her phone and that would be a problem of itself.

She settles in the comfort of her home away from home bed and preps for the worst.

Her phone is charged and she is terrified.

The first thing she sees is an alarming amount of missed calls along with her voicemail overflowing from calls from her siblings and parents. Her messages were the same. But she procrastinated going through those, instead she went to instagram. Of course she looked up Harry and saw that he was following her so she followed back–she does hope they are friends after all, although Y/n would understand that this situation wouldn’t make the best start. She clicked on the photo and smiled; he did look pretty, she would like to see him smile like that again–in person.

She made the mistake of looking at the comments. Some were in shock, others were compliments, and of course, the rest were plain rude. She did what was best for her and closed out of the app, now moving onto the next challenge.

She got back to her PR team first, all who said that the photo was really harmless and they could make a statement if that was what Y/n wanted. She thanked Vivian, the head of the team, and texted that if it didn’t die down within the next week then she would consider it. She then texted Alex, who she assured that it meant nothing and would call when she felt like she could breathe.

Y/n reluctantly texted her family in a groupchat, saying that she was not seeing anyone and all rumors are false–she just made a friend and took a funny photo with them. She also ignored their individual messages, not bothering to read them.

The last thing she saw were messages from an unknown number. They had awful spelling and were incoherent but so clearly from the boy who got them into this mess.

She was stopped when a call came through. She answered when she saw the familiar number.

“Y/n?”

“Harry?”

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry for gettin’ you in this drama. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk or be near me again–”

“Harry, calm down. I am not mad at you.” Y/n interrupted him when sense rambling coming.

Harry whined on the other end of the call. “But I posted the photo, a-and now some magazine thinks we’re having fucking twins–”

“That isn’t your fault.” She reminded him, then sighed. “Look, I am not happy about this at all. I don’t like being called a gold digger and having these rumors circulate; but there is nothing we can do.”

“I can take the photo down, Louis might have to help me though because apparently I keep fucking everything up.” He groaned, pushing his head into his pillow on the bed; currently on his way to the next site for practice in northern England. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Y/n didn’t really know what to say. Honestly, she would like his company and everyone to forget about the photo, but there was nothing realistic he had to offer. She did appreciate the sentiment though.

“Maybe you can just talk.” She asked, albeit, in a softer voice than before. “Talking helped me sleep last time, and–I think we just need a distraction.”

Harry was a little stunned, but that didn’t stop the smile on his face. “Yeah, so today I woke up with the worst hangover ever. Then proceeded to go to rehearsals and then get shimmed into the tour bus with Niall who conveniently forgot to shower after dancing for like two hours straight–swear I can smell him from here.”

“Are you on the bus now?”

“Yeah, think we’re goin to some studio in Manchester–”

“That’s close to where you grew up right?”

“Yeah, wait, how did you know?” He smiled when she said that–did she look him up? He thought it would make it even since he looked up Y/n.

“No, just from your accent. Got Sugar from up there.” She chuckled.

"Sugar is the cat, right?"

"Yup."

"Knew it." He chided. “I gotta admit; I'm a little sad you didn't look me up.”

“Have you looked me up?” She asked charmingly, and of course, it made Harry’s face turn red.

“Uh, no?” He was tired, but Y/n hummed an okay that got Harry to crack. “Okay, so I might have looked you up on instagram and might have creeped on your page.”

“Anything else?”

“Might’ve watched a few clips of you actin’.” He tried to shrug it off, but he really didn’t want to end up confessing he read her whole wiki page–grant it, it’s not super long, but he was curious and truly fascinated by her; he couldn’t wait to get to know more about her.

“Well, what did you think?” Y/n thinks she knows what clips he’s talking about. Most likely leaked scenes from Les Mis that she knew were circulating, or it was the trailers for the movies–either way she’s flattered.

“Enough to know you deserve a Grammy.”

“You mean an Oscar?” She laughed and Harry just sighed and internally yelled at himself.

“If you have music on the brain you can focus on that if you wa–”

“No! I really like this little late night talkin sesh. Very nice to talk to you.” He admits, sweat now starting to form on his forehead. This was being bold, even for him. “I also just want to make you happy. I know everything is going to be shit for the next couple of days.”

“Ugh, we just need to wait till some other celebrity posts nudes or something.” She groaned, making Harry smile. “But you’re right, this just needs to blow over.”

“Wish I was around to make you feel better.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes, but that’s when an idea popped into his head. “Hey, um, I don't know if this is too soon but when are you done filming?” He asks, biting his lip.

“I think in March, why?”

“You should come to one of our concerts in April then, we’re taking a break from touring till then but I’m gonna be doin all of this work but I would like to see you soon, if you’re okay with that.”

Harry's heart stoped while he waited for an answer.

“Definitely, we are just starting reshoots and Tom doesn’t think there will be much to do.” She told him excitedly. “Where is it?”

“Sydney…”

She paused. “As in Sydney, Australia?”

“Yup.”

Another pause. “Y’know what, sure.”

“Really? I can send travel plans now if you want–”

“That can wait for tomorrow. Just tell me I’m not going to regret flying out there for a One Direction concert.”

“Thought you were flying out for me?” Harry said with faux sadness.

“What do you mean? I've always been a die hard Directioner.”

"Really?"

"Yeah." She smiles. "Ever since I saw they had this really cute member with curly hair, I've been obsessed."

Harry blushed, his cheeks feeling warm. "As someone who is in One Direction, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"The one with curly hair thinks you're cute too."

taglist (send an ask if u want to be added):

@uhuhuh

please share and tell me what you think! <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x actress!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles series #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #1d!harry styles #1d!harry #fetus!harry #harry styles x famous!reader

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styleslistic · 2 years ago

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How It Turned Out - Harry Styles Fic Part 2

Part 1 features Y/N’s interview on Howard Stern, he’s a bit of a bastard. This part follows what happens when its published, including Harry and Y/N messaging for the first time, and Y/N getting a bit of revenge.

(speaking of which we’re obviously just pretending that Y/N wrote Wet Dream instead of Wet Leg lol)

Masterlist

Today, Y/N’s Howard Stern interview was being published to YouTube. She was equal parts nervous and excited. Stern’s questions had been pretty uncomfortable, but she felt good about how she handled them and was pleased that she’d embarassed him a bit.

Watch Now: Y/N on The Howard Stern Show

Comments:

@/ynfan “god Howard Stern is so rude!”

@/ynfan2 “why am I not surprised that he fetishes queer women! he barely asked about anything except that song and harry”

@/ynfan3 “pahahaaa she really said you seem like you’d be bad in bed

An hour after her interview with Howard Stern was published, Y/N let herself switch her phone back on. Watching her phone, waiting for the first comments to arrive underneath the video would’ve been torturous. But now, the first swathe of comments had been posted, she allowed herself to have a look. Happily, her fans agreed about Howard’s behaviour, and thought her responses had been pretty great.

@/harryfan “omg her defending harry like that even tho they’ve never met”

@/harryynfan “she said she collabs with people if they have a shared experience, i feel like being interviewed by howard stern counts as shared trauma, so single released when?”

The comments about Harry Styles were equally nice to see, there were times when their fans seemed to pit them against each other, but the large overlap between their two fandoms seemed to be loving her defense of him.

After allowing herself a little time to reply to some fans, she closed the app and turned off Do Not Disturb mode. Instantly, her phone buzzed with notifications, despite having most of them turned off (she couldn’t afford to be notified every time someone tweeted about her after all). Most she could ignore, but one in particular caught her eye.

Instagram Message from @/harrystyles:

Well this was unexpected. She’d expected, naturally, that he’d end up hearing about her interview, especially since he’d been interviewed by the same man. But she hadn’t thought it’d be this quick. Before her brain could start worrying about whether she way about to be told off by a fellow musician, she clicked the message to open it.

Harry: Hi, I just watched your interview with Howard Stern. I hope you’re doing ok, it took me a whole week to recover from mine.

Y/N: Hey, nice to hear from you! I’m just glad I managed to hold my ground a bit, he was really trying to wear me down.

Harry: Ha, yeah. You definitely did better than me on that front. I feel like he walked all over me in my interview with him

Y/N: I watched yours to prepare me, I can’t lie. He was notoriously rough with you. Don’t beat yourself up about it though you got your point across to your fans in the interview and that’s what’s important.

Harry: Cheers, I appreciate that.

Harry: Listen, I just wanted to thank you for defending me. I know it must be super annoying always being asked about me, so the fact that you still stood up for means a lot.

Y/N: No need to thank me seriously, the mans a bigot!

Y/N: And hey, there are definitely worse people one could be compared to :)

Harry: Well, I wanted to thank you anyway. I really admire you and your work.

Y/N: You flatterer, haha.

She was relieved that he didn’t think she’d overstepped by defending him. It made her feel even more confident in her little revenge plan...

After the interview she’d been seething with anger at Howard Stern, the industry in general for holding him to such regard despite being such an arsehole and her management for persuading her to go on the show in the first place.

As musicians are wont to do, she channeled this outrage into a song which she recorded on the spot in her garden, so she wouldn’t forget it. After showing it to her agent, not thinking much of the song, she was persuaded to release the song on her Instagram feed. It would probably never be a single, but she was known for posting unfinished songs and covers online from time to time, so it would hardly be out of character. She’d been surprised that her agent had agreed to it, as the song quite directly referenced the interview, but her agent was just as pissed off about it as she was.

She opened her messages to Harry back up.

Y/N: Now listen, how do you feel about revenge

Harry:... I feel I should be worried

Y/N: Well its not revenge against you, it’s revenge against King Bigot himself.

Harry: In that case be my guest.

Y/N: Check my insta page in two mins

Instagram Post:

Caption: The other day I was messing around and wrote a song called Wet Dream... iykyk

Comments:

@/ynfan “holy shit”

@/ynfan2 “she really said go die pls howard”

@/ynfan3 “I can’t believe she referenced the interview so explicitly, she’s crazy, i’m in love”

@/ynfan4 “she said keep your wet dream away from me you big perv lolllll”

This time, the comments started raking in before people would even have had a chance to listen to the full song. Including the man himself.

Instagram message from @/harrystyles

Harry: I can’t believe you

Harry: Wait that sounded bad, i meant that in a good way. That is the most hilirious/brave thing i’ve ever seen wow.

Y/N: I really wrote it in a fit of rage

Harry: Well it’s incredible. Like, the message is obviously spot on, but it’s also just a complete bop

Y/N: I aspire to only create bops, so i’m glad you think so

Harry: haha I think I write too much sad shit for that to be the case for me

Y/N: Idk i think between us we’re doing pretty well at nailing the sad bop niche

Harry: Maybe you’re right.

Y/N: I usually am.

Harry: I’ll bear that in mind. God, that song is going to me stuck in my head for weeks now, I swear.

Y/N: Well it’s nice to know you’ll be thinking of me!

And that was part 2! Working on part 3 as we speak!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #musician!y/n #how it turned out

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

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WILDEST FANTASIES (part 11)

⚫️A/N: woww look at that! an early update! im just so amazing right?😌 lol anywayss thank you for all the support, i appreciate it, that's why im posting this part earlier than i intended so pls keep it up so it'll keep motivating me! love you all!

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WARNING: sexual content

⚫️WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

“Holy shit, it’s massive!” Kostas gasps as you are both staring at the engagement ring on Ramona’s finger.

They are back in the apartment again, raving about everything that happened during the holidays, but Ramona definitely has the most to tell about, showing up with an impressive engagement ring after going home single.

“How did this happen?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the armchair while the two of them sit on the couch.

“Well, Dean came to visit on the twenty-fifth, he said we needed to talk. I thought he was gonna finalize our breakup and say that we should never talk again, but that’s not at all what he wanted.”

“Obviously,” Kostas scoffs, pointing at her ring.

“Don’t want to make it long, so basically he told me that they talked about the whole situation with the family business and he doesn’t have to move back home, because his sister, Rebecca and her husband decided to take over it for him. Then we talked about us and the future and… he popped the question,” she giggles, staring down at her hand, admiring the ring.

“Wow, going from being single to engaged in like two weeks, you could be a Kardashian!” Kostas exclaims, making you all laugh.

“It’s been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster, but I’m happy,” Ramona smiles shyly.

She goes on about how they plan to move in together once she is finished with school and then have the wedding probably sometime next year and you are so happy for your friend, you always knew she and Dean are endgame.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be the best wing woman to both of you though when we are out!” she giggles and your smile drops, eyes locking with Kostas who is thinking about the same thing as you. “What?” Ramona questions. “Am I missing something?”

Now that things are going well for Ramona, you know you have to tell her about Harry, just how you promised Kostas. They are your best friends, you trust them with your whole life, there’s no way you can navigate through this whole thing without them.

“Um, well… The thing is that I won’t be needing your services as a wing woman.”

“What? Why? Are you… are you seeing someone? What did I miss?!” she gasps with wide eyes.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to say a word to anyone, Ram. I mean it, not even to Dean, I don’t care that he is your fiancé now!”

“Wow, okay, you have my word, just tell me what’s happening already!”

And that’s exactly what you do. You tell her exactly what you told Kostas not long ago while she sits there with wide eyes and her mouth hung agape, hugging a pillow to her chest as if she was watching the best movie of the year.

“Is this a joke? Are you two are just pulling my leg?” she asks when you’re finished, her gaze keeps switching between you and Kostas.

“No, she is full on fucking Professor Styles,” Kostas scoffs.

“We’re a couple, Kostas. Not just fucking,” you shoot him a look.

“But you mostly do fucking.”

“I can’t argue with that,” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m sorry, how are we just casually discussing that Y/N is dating his professor?” Ramona eyes the two of you still in shock. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of what? Harry?” you chuckle.

“Harry,” Kostas coos. “He is just Harry to you!”

You roll your eyes and leave his comment unanswered.

“No, not him. But what if someone finds out? Someone who is not us and would want to hurt you?”

“We’re careful, don’t worry about that,” you shrug.

But deep down you know it’s not the truth, but you choose to ignore it. Because your happiness that you’ve been looking for so long is more important to you in this moment than the possibility of getting busted for sleeping around with your professor.

As the winter break passes by it becomes official.

That Harry is not your professor anymore.

The start of the new semester brings a somewhat new start in your relationship, though you still have to keep everything hush-hush, so mostly you still live it out in Harry’s home where you can unapologetically do whatever you want without having to worry about being seen.

The sun is barely peeking through the almost fully drawn in curtains, there’s a tiny slit left open, leaving a line of bright morning light sneaking into the room that’s currently filled with soft moans and panting as Harry’s chest is pressed up against your back, his arms locked around you as you lie on your side while he keeps thrusting his hard cock into your throbbing, wet pussy.

There’s no better way to start the day than some delicious morning sex. You woke up with his hand between your legs, his fingers drawing little circles on your clit lazily, his morning wood cheekily pressed up against your backside. It was just a matter of minutes before he buried himself into you, his name falling from your lips in a raspy plea.

It must be still early, the alarm on your phone hadn’t gone off, but this is a better way to be woken up than by that annoying ringtone. Harry nibbles on your neck, one hand moving to the inner side of your thigh, urging you to lift it up so he can hit a better angle.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out and reaching behind you sink your fingers into his waist, feeling his muscles move under your touch. “Harry, I’m gonna come!”

“Come for me, baby. I wanna feel you clenching around my cock,” he urges you, his voice still groggy from his sleep, but it’s so sexy, you can never have enough of it.

You gasp out, tightening your walls around him intentionally, knowing well how crazy it makes him go. Harry growls and slams into you harder, his hand that’s been holding your leg up now moves to work on your clit and it pushes you over the edge.

Your orgasm washes over you, knocking the air out of your lungs and just moments later Harry releases himself into you as well, your name falling off his lips, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he rides his high out.

After a few more slow thrusts he stops, but remains inside you, keeping you close. He peppers your shoulder and the back of your neck with sweet kisses before pulling out and letting you roll to your back, your eyes finally meeting his.

“Good morning,” he smirks, his eyes still slightly puffy, his hair sticking in every direction and he hasn’t shaved in a few days so his scruff is making a comeback. He looks so soft and handsome, your chest feels full and warm every time you look at him.

“Morning. It’s a great way to start the first day of the new semester,” you giggle and pull him down for a short, sweet kiss.

“I’m happy to please you,” he winks.

It’s still early enough for the two of you to share a quick shower, the intimacy of this little every day thing just makes this morning even better. You have a quick breakfast together, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and eggs filling Harry’s kitchen and you bathe in the warmth of this momentary domesticity. As you get dressed to leave, you think about how you could definitely get used to having mornings like this for the rest of your life.

“When is your last class?” he asks, pulling his slacks on as you button your blouse up. For a while now you’ve had some clothes and toiletries at his place, making it easier to spend time with him without having to worry about packing a bag every time.

“It’ll be over at four, but it’s the first day so I’m sure we’ll be dismissed at three.”

“Alright. And do you have any plans for after?”

“Not that I know of,” you smile back.

“Then I’ll pick you up at five at your place,” he states simply, a coy smirk tugging on his lips.

“What are we doing?”

“I’m taking you out on a date,” he replies and you’re truly surprised by his plans.

“A date?”

“Yeah. We haven’t had one and I think that’s unacceptable.”

“That’s very sweet, but how are we gonna just casually go out together?” you ask the most important question. There’s no way you can go anywhere in town without running into someone you know or knows who you are. It’s way too risky even with the new semester rolling around.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It’s a little dreading to go back to school, especially after spending so much time with Harry during the winter break, but you keep telling yourself that it’s your last semester and you’ll be done with all of it in a few months.

What helps you through the day is the thought that Harry is taking you on a date today. That sounds so crazy even though you’re in a relationship with him.

All day, you keep fantasizing about how the two of you would go on a date when you can’t be seen together and the best you come up is that you’ll have to wear a disguise.

Y/N: Should I get a fake mustache for tonight?

You send the text when you’re sitting in your last class. The teacher is talking about the syllabus but you give zero shit about how she decided to build it up.

HARRY: ?! What kind of fucked up roleplaying do you have in your mind??

You push down a laugh as you type your response.

Y/N: Just trying to figure out how we are gonna go on a date.

HARRY: Don’t worry, you won’t need your mustache.

Y/N: I’ll just bring it with me, just in case…

By the time you get home finally and start getting ready, you’re like a little girl who was promised to be taken to Disney Land. It’s still crazy to think that three months ago this would have only been happening in your dreams, but right now, this is your reality. Professor Styles is taking you out on a date and hopefully he will fuck you into oblivion later tonight.

Harry is feeling the jitters as he is driving over to your place. Ha hasn’t been on a date in a while and he wants you to have a nice memory of the two of you outside of his house.

Or his office.

Dressed in a pair of fitted pants and a nice dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his tattoos on his left arm, the ones you’re so obsessed with.

“I imagine you had a badboy phase when you got all your tattoos before you became a professor,” you giggled one morning when the two of you were lying in bed and you playfully traced the patterns on his skin.

“Oh, definitely,” he hummed. “I used to be a wild biker,” he added, playing along with the story you made up.

“And you wore a cool leather jacket and all?” you smiled up at him with bright eyes and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Absolutely.”

“Ah, I wish I could see you like that,” you giggled before pushing yourself up to meet your lips with his.

He feels like he’s known you all his life. Like there was this one little thing missing from him all along and now he has found it. He can’t believe you sat in his class for months and he was oblivious to who you’d become to him.

Arriving at your place he grabs the roses he bought for you and heads up to your front door. Ringing the doorbell he hears some distant noises from the other side until the door flies open, but it’s not you standing there, but a guy.

“Oh my God!” he gasps as Harry stands there awkwardly.

He knows that it’s Kostas, your roommate. You told him about coming clean to your friends and though at first he was mad you talked to someone about your relationship, he later came to peace with it. If you trusted them then he should too.

“Kostas! No!” Harry hears your voice coming from inside and a moment later you come into view, wearing the prettiest light blue dress he has ever seen. You push your roommate out of the way who is still in shock to see Harry standing on the doormat as you take his place and smile at your boyfriend. “Hi, sorry, I told him not to answer the door.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckles.

“But I’m glad I did!” Kostas calls out from somewhere inside.

“Shut up and mind your own business!” you growl back, but you all know it’s just some friendly bickering.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs as he steps closer and kisses your lips shortly. “And these are for you.”

He holds up the roses and you stare at them in awe. Not one guy has brought you flowers when they took you out. You were starting to think it wasn’t a thing anymore, but it’s just another sign that you were messing around with the wrong kind of men.

“Thank you,” you breathe out as you take the flowers from him. “Let me put them into water and then we can leave.”

Harry follows you inside so that he is not standing at the door while waiting for you and as you rush away with the bouquet, he finds himself being inspected by both of your roommates.

“Hi,” he nods in their way as they are watching him from the couch in the living room.

“So… what are your, erm, intentions?” Ramona speaks up, surprising all of them with her question, even herself.

“What are his intentions? Is that really what you decided to say?” Kostas asks her but she just smacks his chest. “Don’t listen to her. I’m Kostas, by the way. And this crazy woman is Ramona.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Harry,” he nods with a tight-lipped smile.

“Hello, Harry,” Kostas smiles coyly, right when you walk out of your room with your coat draped over your arm.

“Kostas, would you stop flirting with my boyfriend?” you huff and Harry hopes no one realizes how his heart leaps in his chest hearing you call him your boyfriend. He is still not entirely used to it but he loves it for sure.

“I just said hello! This is not flirting!” he protests and you just roll your eyes as Harry takes your coat and helps you into it like a true gentleman.

“Alright, bye guys! Don’t wait for me!” you call out as Harry takes your hand and you head out.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Kostas chirps.

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do!” you scoff before shutting the front door closed behind you.

To avoid getting recognized, Harry has planned the whole date two hours away from town, making sure you don’t run into anyone who might know who you are. Harry chose the best place he could find, a rooftop bar that also serves food and there’s even live music. The whole terrace on the top of the building has a tropical vibe that’s a great change from the grey winter everydays.

The two of you order everything off the menu that sounds just slightly appealing and soon enough the table is filled with plates and drinks, you’re having a feast with the soft jazz music playing in the background.

The conversation flows as always, you’re having a blast and though you always love spending time with Harry, being out in the public just brings a kind of thrill you’ve been missing without knowing about it.

“And another margarita for the beautiful lady,” the elderly waiter arrives with your latest order. He seems to be around sixty, but you bet he’s been working the same job for decades and he is still here because he loves it. “May I add you two are such a wonderful couple! I see many lovers come and go around here, but you definitely stand out.”

“Oh, really?” you beam at the nice comment.

“You radiate love, it’s everywhere around you,” he says before striding over to the next table.

You turn back to Harry with your cheeks heating up, it’s an unfamiliar experience to have anyone commenting on the two of you since up until now, you only existed in his and your home, nowhere else.

Harry shares a shy smile with you before he reaches out and laces your fingers together on top of the table. It’s such an intimate moment, you’ll remember it forever.

“You never told me what you did about your mum,” he brings up a bit later.

“Oh,” you breathe out shrugging. “I sent her some money, not the amount she wanted, but it’s way more than what she deserves, that’s for sure. Now I’m just hoping she will finally forget about me already.”

“Do you think you’ll ever make amends with her?”

“No,” you answer right away. “She chose not to care about me, not to be part of my life. I accept that, but she has to live with the consequences as well. There’s a short silence, only the constant chatter of other guests and the sweet flow of the music buzzing around you before Harry speaks up.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Which part exactly?” you chuckle bitterly.

“Having someone you think you love or supposed to love break your trust.”

“I don’t think I ever had trust in her,” you admit sadly.

Harry would love to tackle the issue more, hear about what you were like growing up, not just about stories with your mother, but whatever happy memories you have. However he decides to leave it for another time.

The evening carries on and you’re having an amazing time. The food and drinks slowly disappear off of your table and Harry is as charming as ever. This man always seems to know what to say, how to make you laugh, you’re drinking his words just like how he is in total awe of everything about you.

“May I have a dance?” he holds out a hand for you standing up from the table. The band is playing a nice, slow song and you can’t hold your smile back as you place your hand in his.

In front of the band, there’s a little dancefloor area, a few couples already swaying to the slow rhythm when the two of you join them. Harry pulls you close to him, his hands resting on the small of your back while yours go to his shoulders.

“It’s been a nice evening. Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him softly, pressing a tiny kiss to his cheek.

“I would do just about anything for you, Y/N,” he admits truthfully and your heart skips quite a few beats.

“Last time you said something similar it was a bit dirtier,” you tease, referring back to when he was so desperate to fuck you finally.

“Mhm, a lot has changed since then, am I right?” he smirks as the two of you keep swaying, your bodies moving in sync in a different way they’ve been doing lately.

“Got myself a man, that’s quite major,” you chuckle and the corners of his mouth curl upwards as well.

“You happy that’s what happened?”

“I wasn’t expecting it, but I’m more than happy now. I’m happy with you,” you tell him and leaning closer you kiss his lips softly. “I can’t picture myself anywhere else than with you.”

There’s a lot more you want to say. Three little words are hanging on the very tip of your tongue, but fearing that his reaction wouldn’t be too welcoming, you bite them back and just let yourself be full of what you have in this moment.

Leaning back just enough so that he can see your face fully, Harry seems to be searching for words. You’ve stopped swaying, just standing among the dancing couples, staring at each other in silence.

“Harry?” you say softly, tracing the line of his bottom lip with a finger. It’s an invitation to tell you whatever he is trying to word, that you’re here and listening to him.

His eyes move down to your lips and then back to your eyes, you can tell whatever he is about to say is heavy and it’s been weighing on him for a while. He opens his lips, takes a deep breath and finally speaks up.

“I love you.”

He’s been building up his courage to tell you how he feels all evening. On his way to pick you up, he rehearsed saying those three words, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t remember them, but how could he ever forget them? Just a look at you is a reminder that his heart is beating for you. Being out with you on this date reassured him that it’s not just his lust that’s been drawing him towards you, it’s so much deeper and more intense, it’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. But you brought it back to his life.

You haven’t said a word since his confession. The more seconds pass by the more he can feel panic creeping up his spine that it might not have been the right moment and he should have waited.

“Y/N, I just wanted you to know… If you don’t… I mean it’s fine if—“ he starts stuttering around, trying to save the situation but you cut him off by pressing your lips against his.

It takes him by surprise because he was already bracing himself to somehow take his confession back, but this is a pleasant turn. He wraps his arms around you tighter, returning the kiss after just a second of hesitation, as if he is saying the words again and again with his lips silently and you’re definitely welcoming them.

“I love you too,” you tell him out of breath when you pull back.

“You do?” he asks without thinking.

“Yeah,” you nod chuckling. “I really do.”

Harry exhales sharply, it feels like his chest has been completely washed out, a massive weight rolling off of his shoulders. Hearing you say those words just made him addicted, he wants you to say them a million times every day just so he can say them back a million and one times.

“Just please… never stop loving me,” you plead, resting your forehead against his. Instead of answering, Harry just kisses you hard.

The drive back to Harry’s place is long and silent, but feels incredible. His hand is clasping yours in your lap, squeezing it from time to time and you kiss his knuckles every time you get giddy just thinking about tonight.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Arriving he helps you out of the car and pulls you in for a kiss, his hand already sliding a little lower on your back, making you giggle against his lips. He tries to unlock the front door while you’re hugging him from behind, your palms wandering on his chest and you can’t wait to feel his hot skin underneath your touch. When one of your hands slides down to his crotch, palming him through his pants, a whimper falls from his lips as he misses the lock with the key.

“Stop, or we’ll never get inside,” he chuckles and you grin against his shoulder, pulling your hands back just enough to let him open the door and pull you inside.

He doesn’t waste a moment to grab you by your waist and press you up against the front door the moment it’s shut closed. His heavenly lips claim yours, hips pinning you into place as you return the kiss feverishly.

“This dress is amazing, but I would love to see you without it, my love.”

You sigh happily at the nickname, your back arching so your chest is pressing against his. You drag your coat off your shoulders and one hand goes to your side to unzip the dress and rid yourself from it as fast as possible.

“Clothes off for you as well, professor,” you grin at him, as you let the straps of your dress slide off your shoulders.

Harry watches you with such a hunger in his eyes as your dress falls from your chest, his fingers working fast on his shirt in the meantime. The moment he sees your naked chest he growls and the moment he tears his shirt off, his mouth is on your hot skin, kissing and sucking on your breasts, his tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple and you tug on his hair as your head smacks against the door when you moan his name out loud.

He kisses his way up your chest until his lips could melt against yours again and when he pulls back, you’re moments away from jumping his bones right away, looking so delicious with his messy curls, swollen lips and heaving chest.

“I want to make love to you,” he says and you notice the hesitation in his voice, as if he is afraid of what you’d think of it even after the confessions you both made tonight.

“Do whatever you want with me, I’m yours,” you tell him, pulling him in for another kiss.

Clothes are flying on your way to his bedroom and you’re fully naked by the time you fall into his bed. It’s different this time, there’s still so much lust and passion, but something new has wrapped the two of you into a little bubble, so warm and soft, how could you even live without this feeling before?

Harry keeps telling you he loves you, with words and with his actions and you’re more than eager to return it every time. Every kiss, touch and look feels so much more intensive, your chest is threatening to just burst open from everything you’ve been experiencing.

The three little words fall from his tongue when he slips inside you, his hard cock stretching out your soft and wet walls, and he keeps confessing his love again and again as he rocks his hips back and forth.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you,” he keeps murmuring against your lips and skin and you moan out his name when he is pushing you close to the edge.

“I love you, Harry,” you gasp. He lifts his head and his eyes burn into yours as he keeps moving.

You come together, staring at each other in awe as you become one. In that moment, everything stops existing. It’s just you and him. Nothing else.

It’s been a long day, but it’s Friday and Harry is happy to be heading home, spending another weekend with you. The two of you have plans, driving up north to take a hike on Saturday. The weather is promised to be oddly warm so the two of you decided to take advantage of it.

As he shoves his notebooks and books into his bag he switches the lamp on his desk off, or rather almost does it, but he stops when there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in!” he sighs, feeling a bit annoyed that he is gonna be held up even longer. The door opens and he feels relieved that it’s not a student, but Nina. However, a moment later he remembers the way they parted ways before the winter break. He hasn’t seen her around since then, somehow didn’t even run into her in the hallway. He figured she needed time to get herself over it, but when he sees her walk in, he notices that something is different. She doesn’t seem nervous or worried, but she is not her usual, upbeat and friendly self either. She walks in with a cold look in her eyes as she closes the door behind her and walks up to Harry’s desk.

“Nina! Hi!” he breathes out, not sure what to say but he feels like he needs to address everything that has happened.

“How was your winter break?” she asks and a smile stretches across her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Uh, good! It was nice. How was yours?”

“Fine,” she shrugs.

“Listen, Nina. About what happened before—“

“So how long have you been fucking your student?”

Harry’s stomach and heart drops and for a moment he believes he is about to faint. Did he hear that right? Or maybe his brain is just playing an awful game with him and she didn’t even say that. His throat has gone completely dry and it feels like he is breathing but the air is just not making it into his lungs.

Nina is still standing there, the same blank look in her eyes, so cold and rigid, it’s not the woman Harry knows.

“I—what?” is the first thing he manages to say in his utter shock.

“I asked, how long you’ve been fucking your student?”

She didn’t stutter and Harry didn’t hear it wrong. She actually asked that. Nina walks over to his bookshelves and runs her fingers along the spine of the encyclopedias sitting neatly next to each other.

“You know, at first I was convinced I didn’t see it right. Because the Harry Styles I know is a man who respects rules and would never even consider doing anything that sort of. I kept telling myself that I know you and that I know you wouldn’t do such an outrageous thing.”

She folds her arms and turns to face him again while he is frozen in his spot, his brain has shut off.

“But I had to realize that it was you. I really did see you walk out of the school’s building with Y/N, your student, you walked her to your car and kissed her and the two of you drove away together.”

Harry knows what she is talking about, what day she saw you. The day you came into his office and the two of you acted out your little fantasy that started the whole thing. He was so stupid to think it was safe, that no one was around. And the kiss in the parking lot? What was he thinking? Acting so careless just because he was falling for you? He should have never messed up that badly.

“It was like… a punch right in my face, especially after having you reject me right before that. I wanted to understand and accept your choice, because if you were happy with the woman you told me about, I would have never wanted to ruin that for you. But then I found out who she was.”

“Nina, I can explain. This is—“

“You mean explain why you led me on and fucked your student?” “Wait a minute, I did not lead you on,” he breathes out, trying his best to control his emotions and thoughts in this excruciating moment. He can already feel everything falling apart around him, but he is desperately holding it together.

“I don’t believe you’re that stupid to think that everything we’ve been doing was just all a friendly act. The dinner dates, the talks, the flirting, that’s not how friends work, Harry.”

“What dates? Nina, those were just simple occasions when two friends spent time together! And I never flirted with you, what even gave you the impression of that?”

“And what gave you the impression that it’s okay to fuck your student?!” she snaps back. Harry wants to fight back, to explain everything to her, but he feels like she wouldn’t take it well and he is not in the position to upset her even more. Not when she has the information that could easily destroy his life.

“I didn’t plan to do it. It’s not something I wanted,” he speaks up quietly.

“So she pressured you into it?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

“No, it’s… it’s complicated, Nina.”

“I see it crystal clear that you are using your power and authority over her to get sex.”

“I love her,” he protests. “It’s not just sex, you have to understand that—“ “I don’t have to understand a thing, Harry. Because this is fucked up. And disgusting. And… I will not allow it to happen.”

A knife right into Harry’s chest. The words cut deep and unleash all his fears he’s been trying so hard to push down. It’s the moment he was scared the most of.

“What… what do you mean?” he mumbles in shock.

“You’ll break up with her.”

“What? I-I can’t. Let me just explain it a-and—“

“Break up with her or I’ll ruin you both.”

“Nina, you can’t be serious. Let’s just talk this out,” he begs, but it’s as if she is not listening to him at all.

“If you don’t do it, I will go straight to the dean and I will make sure Y/N will never finish her degree in this school.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he whispers in disbelief.

“I would definitely do it. And I will not hold back, you can take it as a threat. If you don’t break up with her, I will make sure to make your and her life a living hell. You know that I have great connections in the school and a few others in the state. If you want her to finish her degree, you better do it or I will fucking end the both of you.”

Harry has no chance to even react, not that he could even say a word. Nina turns around and marches out of his office. As the door shuts closed behind her, he collapses into his chair, a single tear running down his cheek.

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

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vallentinerry · 3 years ago

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bff im missing your fluffs :((

sorry bestie i was busy having a mental breakdown bc a guy with some sort of fruit kink decides to post the album date :(( FUCKING MAY BESTIE MAY. IM NOT GONNA SURVIVE

anyways idk wtf this is but yes :)) THIS IS MY POST HAPPINESS WRITING OKAY

Harry felt like he was going fucking insane.

First of all, you knew exactly how hot you are are. Second of all, you knew exactly how hot you are in that workout attire. Third of all, you knew exactly how much power you had over Harry and he couldn’t even be mad! You could’ve asked him to get down on his knees for you every single of the day and he wouldn’t even hesitate to follow you.

It was the jacket that really got him worked up.

He knew that when he decided to wake you up at 5 in the morning, edging you again and again the night before that he would get some sort of pay back. Out of all his weaknesses why. did. you. that. fucking. jacket.

A lululemon jacket. Those jackets where it makes you look like a BBL. That was Harry’s weakness.

You tried to control your laughter as you saw his annoyed face, a bulge evident in his pants.

[pls hit me in the face <33]

It was getting harder minute by minute for him as you made sure that your ass/ boobs (depends on what you have BAHAHA) was jiggling along with your tightly fitted outfit.

Of course, Harry being Harry didn’t want to tell you that his dick was bothering him so he acted like he was giving his all into jogging. The man looked like he was in a heat. Groaning, moaning and all that just because of a lululemon jacket.

The both of you stopped at the little trolly shop who was selling ice creams, paying for your ice creams as Harry rests his cheek on top of your head. You look up atm him making his chin detach from your head before pressing a peck on the tip of your nose.

You laugh swatting him away, “It’s allergy season, I swear if I sneeze on you it’s not my fault.”

“Is that a new kink?” he teases, intwining his hands with yours, pulling you closer.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, Mr. Styles.”

He laughs, “Why?! I was just asking!”

“Sure you were.” you snort. “Go sit there, you’re being a nuisance.” you nod your head to the bench beside the trolly.

“Why are you always so mean to me.” he pouts, nonetheless sitting where you told him to.

“You’re like a puppy.” you retort referring to how he follows your every favor.

He sticks his tongue out to you in an attempt of comeback, “Very Mature.” you state.

“Oh shut up.”

You smile at him with no response, before the man working hands you your ice cream making you smile. You stay there for a little while, appreciating your ice cream until Harry calls out for you, “Hey, come here.” he mutters.

“Hm?” you hum.

Rolling his eyes, he reaches for your hand before pulling you to him, you standing in between his parted legs. “You’re so pretty.” he whispers after a while, just looking at you. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

You both just stared at each other for a while, the edge of your lips curving up as you noticed the way Harry’s cheeks started to heat up. “Have some ice cream, you little shit.” you shoved the ice cream cone up to his mouth.

“I’m confessing my love to you and here you are shoving an ice cream up my mouth!”

“I couldn’t get you to shut up.” you roll your eyes.

“You could’ve at least kissed me!”

“Eww...”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fluff #liam payne #louis tomilson #niall horan #zayn malik #fluffers #harry styles and reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #blurbs

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body.

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can.

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso.

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again.

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window.

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit.

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for.

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock.

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful.

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain.

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it?

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can.

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge.

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use.

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore.

K = Kinks

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity.

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold.

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence.

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench.

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail.

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”)

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.

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