#harry’s house blurbs
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moonchildstyles · 1 month ago
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y/n and harry broke up. he goes on a date, and y/n drives in the rain.
wordcount: 8.5k+
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(Y/N) knew it was hypocritical to be feeling jealous at the moment—pathetic, even. She was there that night, she knew she was the one that ended her relationship with Harry. He was single, and there was nothing wrong with him going out with another girl; he could take her to whatever restaurant he wanted, including the one that they had found together last month. 
It had only been a couple of weeks, though. And, he had been the one that wanted to try and work things out with her. Harry had been the one that was insistent that they could work through this—the miscommunications, the lack of time together, the passive aggressive arguments—, but now he was the one moving on nearly immediately. She wanted to cry that it wasn't fair, that he was supposed to still be torn up about it the same as she was. 
It wasn't as if she didn't love him anymore or was itching to get out and meet other people, she was just finding herself more unhappy than she was happy when she thought about him. He had told her that he loved her, that he wanted her—needed her—when she had sat him down, she thought neither of them would be moving on this quickly. 
But, it's fine. It's whatever. Good for him. 
Locking her phone, she placed it face down on her kitchen counter with a startling slam. She didn't double check to see if she had cracked her screen, instead stepping away from the device all together as if it wanted to sulk just as back as she. If her phone was a good friend, it would delete the Instagram app as soon as possible; there was no reason to see any more pictures of Harry and his new friend at dinner. 
Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) padded through her apartment with the intention of cleaning up. The last weeks had left her with heartbreak brain, chores having been pushed to the wayside as she recovered. When was the last time she went grocery shopping? Had she really run out of tissues or did she have an extra stash in some closet she'd been too lazy to check? 
She shook her head, taking the pile of dirty socks to her washing machine while her mind raced with distractions. It was late, but she could go grocery shopping, at least to pick up a few essentials so she didn't order in again for the next couple of days. Seeing the world for another reason instead of work would be good for her, she thought. Even if the thought of putting on shoes that weren't slippers made her want to tear up. 
After starting up the washing machine, she trudged up the stairs towards her room. The cloudy night called for something warmer than the ratted t-shirt and frayed shorts she had on, leaving her to rifle through the collection of sweats she had tucked in her dresser. No matter the garment she pulled out of the drawer, didn't seem to be enough; not thick enough, soft enough, warm enough. Leaving the pieces in a mess in the drawer, she didn't let herself think before she was drifting to her closet where there was a too familiar hoodie hanging up. 
The smell wasn't quite as strong as it had been weeks ago, but there was still a faint scent of Harry's cologne embedded in the fibers. It was truly nothing more than a plain black hoodie, the material showing wear in the way the strings were tied into a bow at the neck with frays at the end, holes lining the sleeve hems, and a lipstick stain smeared on the back shoulder in a shade she had on her bathroom counter. Though it was his hoodie, she had stolen it enough times that it lived at her home with Harry taking it back every now and then, imprinting himself on it for her to revel in once he gave it back. 
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she knew it was a bad idea. There was no reason for her to wear that hoodie. Really, it was surprising that he hadn't asked for it back yet—especially if he was going out with other girls. 
It would be crazy for her to wear it, right? It was not normal to be mourning a relationship she ended. That was not her hoodie.
She slipped it on, anyway. 
As much as (Y/N) was crazy, and hypocritical, and jealous, and insensitive—she missed him. 
This whole thing would be a lot easier if she wasn't still in love with him. If he had just broken her heart and ruined those feelings for him, she wouldn't be feeling insane as she pulled the sleeves over her hands and pretended as if she wasn't breathing in his scent. 
Going out didn't seem so bad when she had this on, though.
Collecting her bag and keys, she made a point to rush through the final steps of readying herself before she was going out the door. If she waited too long, she might end up crying in this hoodie instead. 
Outside, it was raining much harder than she had initially thought. Pulling up her hood, she attempted to protect her hair from the droplets though there were casualties that were immediately pasted to her face. By the time she made it to her car, the hoodie was beginning to grow heavy against her back, rain streaked down her bare legs (in the interest of getting out of the house, she didn't change from her shorts like she'd wanted), and her lashes made heavy with mist. 
Once safe inside her car, she pulled in a heavy breath. 
She could do this. While Harry was out at dinner on a date, she'd go pick up some spaghetti noodles and more cheese than she should eat in a week.
Because she wasn't upset. She wanted to be broken up. She's fine.
With a forceful turn of the key in the ignition, (Y/N) gladly focused on the mechanics of driving through the rain as opposed to everything else on her mind. The clean scent in the air filtered through the cab, comforting her more than she realized. 
No doubt, she could do this. 
Pulling onto the main road, she turned up her music to be heard over the sound of the rain beating against the windscreen. The pavement was slick, dyed a slate black with the help of the droplets, puddles growing in every small divot in the road. The streetlamp twinkled off of the gathered water, rippling with each added drop. Everything was just a bit bleary through the windshield, even with the reach of her wipers going in overtime to wipe away the streaks. 
While she was never a huge fan of driving in less than perfect conditions, especially at night, the scene out here tonight was a perfect match to the pit in her stomach. It made sense for the weather to act this way, she thought; she was too torn up for the world to be given a cloudless, warm night. 
The music playing sifted through a playlist she'd found the other day, her search having been nothing more than for "breakup music". While she didn't know every song, or if she was even allowed to be moping to the tunes considering she was the one that cut things off, the lyrics she could catch were felt in her chest with a weight on her lungs. The ones about the other party moving on before the singer was ready stung particularly sharp tonight.
Especially when an all too familiar song started up, a voice she'd heard thousands of times before pleading with his ex lover to keep from calling her new flame "baby". 
This song had come out long before (Y/N) had met Harry, written with another in mind, but she remembered listening to it back then. She remembered wondering just how heartbroken one would have to be to write stanzas just as these, how hurtful it would be to see your love finding someone else to take your place. 
(Y/N) automatically reached out to skip the song, not even knowing it was on the playlist despite it being an obvious pick, but her hand stopped short. 
It'd been weeks since she heard his voice, even longer since he sang around her. Even if this was through speakers, mastered and fit to music, it was something she'd been missing despite pretending she didn't. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, dropping her and back to the steering wheel as if she hadn't just submitted to self-torture. 
As the tune went on, (Y/N) no longer had to wonder what kind of heartbreak went into poetry like this. She was right where Harry used to be, wishing he would give her just a bit longer of pretending to be his baby before he chose another. 
She hadn't realized she was tearing up until her wipers were unable to keep her view from being blurry. The rain outside now paled in comparison to pools glimmering at her waterline. Her skin felt hot, resistant to the chill seeping through her vents. She didn't even make it through the full of the outro before she repeated the song once more, knowing it would only spur her tears on that much more. 
Before she knew it, her bottom lip was quivering before a broken sob puffed from her lips. She sniffled with tears racing down her cheeks, searing over her warmed skin. 
It wasn't her business, but did he share the same bite of sushi with this new girl that he'd also given to (Y/N) a month ago? Did he order the same bottle of rosé? Did he reach across the table to push her hair out of her face just as he did for (Y/N)? Was tonight going to be the first date they would relay to friends and family when asked how they had found someone so special? She had no right to ask any of these questions, but was Harry going to fall in love with this new girl? 
Did he think of (Y/N) at all tonight, like she was thinking of him? 
The idea of being on Harry's mind at all was enough to have her hands tensing around the wheel, but the thought of not crossing it at all had them shaking instead. Her eyes were flooded, hands wavering on the steering wheel, skin warm and nose wet. The rain beat down against the hood of her car with as much force as her heartbeat, riding the tempo as if she couldn't hear it well enough in her ears. 
She shouldn't've left the house tonight. It would be way easier to sob like this if she wasn't having to also keep track of the road in front of her and the slick pavement beginning to flood with more water than the drains lining the sidewalks could handle. At least she seemed to be the only one out on the road at the moment. 
Scrubbing her hand over her eyes, she attempted to clear them in hopes of regaining her focus. The song was over now and she planned on wiping that song and subsequent album from her vicinity as soon as she made it to the grocery store. 
By the time she blinked her eyes open, lashes sticking to one another under the weight of her tears, she was only a few hundred feet away from the vague outline of a stoplight. She hadn't even seen the light shift from green to yellow, let alone to the blazing red that shone overhead. 
Of course, now would be the time she saw one other person on the road, already creeping out into the intersection to use their own green light. 
In a knee-jerk reaction, (Y/N) stomped on her brakes. Her breath caught when she felt that tell-tale give under her tires, the feel of the back of her car shifting out of sync with the steering wheel. 
The broken rattling of her heart was replaced by the pounding of the beats against her ribs as she realized there was no way she was going to stop. She was currently gliding over the road, her tires unable to grip onto anything underneath them through the layer of rain on the pavement. All she could do was turn the steering wheel and hope that her car followed, hopefully missing the poor bystander who would learn that she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have been when coming to the intersection. 
Every thought in her head seemed to happen in slow motion, but the world around her raced by in a second. She could feel her mouth moving, her voice muttering curses that made no sense, but there wasn't a single sound she heard over her heartbeat. Beyond her windows, the rain blurred every moving shape, her foot still heavy on the brake despite it being a fruitless effort. 
Headlights shone against her face for a brief second before she cranked the wheel, spinning just in time as she hit the middle of the intersection. Her new bleary view showed off the vague outline of the pole of the stoplight for a brief moment before spinning out even further until she was facing the direction she'd come in, her car turning in a complete one-eighty in her lane until everything suddenly stopped with a metallic crunch. 
She heard the impact before she felt it. Her driver's side door whammed into the pole of the stoplight, denting through the layers of metal with the window cracking and breaking. Prisms of glass rained over her, grazing her face and tops of her thighs with prickling shards. Her dented door threaded to push in on her before stopping, leaving a pressure against the side of her body and a complicated way to get out of the vehicle once she found her head. Her dashboard was lit up with every caution insignia as if she had no idea of what had just happened. Through the broken window, rain began to stream in, seeping into the cuts on her face and legs. She shivered though she couldn't feel a single chill from the air, her body beginning to reel from the accident she had just found herself in. 
In the back of her mind, over the pelting rain and pounding heartbeat, she heard her breakup playlist filtering through the remaining speakers. 
A wretchedly familiar voice singing about fine lines and being alright. 
"Hon? Are you okay?" 
Turning to face the nice woman who'd come to check on her after witnessing her blunder, (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond. 
She burst into tears.
—————
Harry really needed to stop wearing this necklace. 
He'd known that for the last few weeks, and, yet, every time he'd thought to unclasp it and put it at the bottom of a jewelry box to never be seen again, he never had the strength to. Instead, he continued to wear it every day, absently playing with the single pearl sitting at the base of his throat. 
Natalie watched as he fiddled with the pendant, but he still couldn't get himself to stop his idle hands. 
He hadn't even wanted to be here tonight, anyway—he had to self-soothe somehow, even if that meant playing with the necklace his ex-girlfriend gifted to him. 
Natalie was nice enough, a friend of a friend of a friend who'd been around to some parties here and there, but she wasn't (Y/N). Harry had only agreed to come out tonight in hopes of giving him a reason to wash his hair and eat something that wasn't bread or coffee while sitting on the kitchen floor. Even with clean hair and an order of his favorite sushi cleared from his plate, he still felt slices of guilt; one for going out with someone while still being very hung up on his ex, and for going out at all with someone who wasn't (Y/N). 
Harry wasn't stupid, he'd caught the cell phones pointed in his direction when he and his date had been seated. If it wasn't up already, it was only a matter of time before those photos would be circulating on all of the socials and appearing on timelines. He could already picture the headlines for tomorrow morning, detailing the mystery woman on this dinner date while questions about his previous flame were posed. He just hoped (Y/N) would somehow be able to dodge these flecks of news—even for only a couple of days. 
Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk to her before she knew. If she was open to hearing from him, he'd explain where he was coming from in even agreeing to this date, and maybe she'd take him back. If she knew he was still in love with her, willing to change his schedule, relearn how to communicate, start going to therapy weekly again, would it be enough to salvage their relationship? 
"But, what about you?" 
Being pulled from his head, Harry had to face Natalie with a blink of his eyes. She had been talking about a movie or something—or was it her last holiday?—, but he hadn't heard a single word. Another pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 
He thumbed over the pearl at his throat. "Um... I'm so sorry, wh—" 
Divine intervention came in the form of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shot an apologetic smile at Natalie before slipping the device out of his pocket, eager to pick up for whoever was on the other side. 
Until he saw the contact name, anyway. 
(Y/N)'s mother. She was calling him. 
"Who is it?" Natalie asked, canting her head at Harry's startled expression. 
"Um... Jus'—uh—someone I haven't heard from in a while. I have to take this, 'm sorry." 
He didn't catch Natalie's reaction before he was rising from his seat and heading towards the front door with the phone pressed to his ear. Rain sprinkled over his head while thunder cracked in the distance. A darker storm was moving in. 
"Hello?" 
"Harry?! Harry, are you there?" 
"'M here, yeah. Is everything alright?" He'd never heard her voice in such a frantic state, especially not over the phone like this. Was she that upset over the breakup? 
"(Y/N)—It's (Y/N). She's been in an accident, and I—we—Her father and I, we're—She's alone. I-I know you two broke up, but she's in the hospital by herself and the nurse said she's not doing okay, she's—I don't know, I don't want her to be alone but I can't get on a flight until tomorrow morning and there's—" 
Frantic chattering continued on through the receiver, but there wasn't a single syllable that was able to breach his thoughts. 
(Y/N) was in the hospital. She'd been in an accident and was now at the hospital. Alone. She wasn't doing well while she was in the hospital after being in an accident, all alone. 
His stomach turned. 
"Wha—Where's the hospital? What hospital is it?" 
Was he having a heart attack? Every beat of the organ fluttered at the base of his throat, the chambers squeezed tight. 
He needed to find her. She couldn't be alone. She had to be okay and he needed to be there. 
Her mother shakily relayed the name of the hospital and room number, stumbling over the syllables until Harry had them seared into his memory.
"I-I'm so sorry to ask you, I know what—" 
"No, no," he shook off her words, "Th-Thank you for telling me. 'M going to her right now, I'll let you know how she's doing." 
Shaky goodbyes were shared with quiet sobs sounding on the end of the other line. Harry felt breathless as he stowed his phone away, hands shaking with fumbling fingers. His head was a mess. 
All he wanted to do was go—get in his car and go, be with (Y/N). But, there was Natalie sitting at their table, a dessert ordered to the table with their check of sushi and wine waiting with their server. There were people around them who would no doubt post about any kind of commotion he sounded tonight, perhaps even leak his location if hearing he was on the way to a hospital in the city. (He usually liked to see the best in others, but it'd happened before, these wild invasions of privacy). 
Despite every instinct pushing him towards the parking lot and abandoning the night, Harry forced himself to walk back into the restaurant. He held a thin grip on his control, but it was enough to get him back to his table with Natalie so he could quietly speak with her. 
"Is everything okay?" she asked before he'd even taken his seat. 
Swallowing, his throat bobbed as he shook his head. "No, actually. I—'m really sorry, Natalie, but I have to go. My, um, a friend of mine—they're in the hospital. I need to go." 
Natalie's features were marred with surprise, mouth dropped open with her lashes in a glimmering flutter up at him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's so scary. No worries, go ahead I'll take care of everything. Call me when you can, okay?" 
Meeting the blue shimmer of her gaze, Harry felt his features tighten. She was much too nice for him. 
He wasn't going to call. 
Harry didn't say anything before he was rushing out of sight, only stopping at the hostess station for a slick second to tell the staff to charge the card attached to the reservation. Natalie was open to order whatever she wanted for the rest of the night, but she wasn't paying for a single cent. This would be his apology for never calling. 
It was with shaky fingers that he typed in the name of the hospital (Y/N) was at—all alone—as soon as he was in his car. Though his heartbeat didn't settle much, his head felt a bit clearer knowing that with every mile he was cruising down the street, he was growing closer to (Y/N). His hands couldn't stay idle for very long, consistently reaching up to the necklace around his throat. 
(Y/N) was going to be alright, right? 
The question warmed the backs of his eyes, flushing his skin. As much as he wanted—needed—to be at her side, Harry realized he wasn't sure what he was walking into. Her mother had said she wasn't doing okay—whatever that meant. What kind of scene was he going to walk into? 
Stop lights and brake lights passing in a blur through the growing rain, Harry made it to the hospital in record time. The pavement was slick, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps and the many car lights bumbling through the carpark. He didn't think before he was pulling into the first spot he found, parking at a sloppy angle before he was rushing out. 
With the rain coming down, his hair fell across his forehead, slicking to his skin. The droplets acted as the tears he was unwilling to shed until he saw (Y/N) in person. 
He marched his way into reception, shoes squeaking over the linoleum. Behind the desk, a woman perked up, spotting him with bored eyes before she perked up with recognition he knew too well. 
"Hi, um, how can I help you?" she sputtered. 
Unable to muster a greeting smile, he kept his eyes low. "I—um—I need to see someone, please?" 
The rest of the checkin passed in a daze, Harry only barely able to keep himself from begging to see (Y/N). He relayed as much information as he could, showing any kind of identification needed. He was more than thankful to hear that her parents had approved his visit during their initial phone call, something he filed away for later so he could thank them when he had a clear mind. 
The best thing he heard, the one that stuck glaringly in his mind, was the fact that she wasn't housed anywhere to be treated for critical pain. She was being held somewhere safe and hopefully comfortable. 
Following the given directions, Harry felt like a ghost as he floated through the different doors and elevators. He moved restlessly while he dinged through the floors, feet shuffling while his eyes were trained on the rising numbers. 
Was this the slowest elevator on earth? Or were they always like this? 
Once set free on the correct floor, Harry floated through the halls, sweaty palms pressed into the pockets of his pants. All he could focus clearly on was the room numbers pinned beside the doors, the thumps of his heart bubbling in his ears. 
After going down what felt like endless miles of hallways, the correct room number finally appeared before him. The door was shut, the lights inside dim. His hand hesitated on the door handle.
He had been so consumed with making it to her, to make himself feel better with the sight of her, that he hadn't really considered if she would even want to see him. If she wasn't asleep at the moment, would she just kick him out? She had been the one to break up with him, anyway. 
Before he could doubt himself any more, he pushed through, keeping his steps light over the linoleum. 
Just as he thought, the room was quiet and dark, rain streaking down the window. There was a warm glow coming from the standing lamp at the corner of the room, machines beeping along with the television with a made-for-tv movie playing. A whiteboard marked with her name was pinned to the wall, filled with stats and jargon Harry didn't have the mind to decipher. 
Amongst it all, (Y/N) was laid in the hospital bed with the thin covers pulled to her middle. Her eyes were shuttered, showing off the bruising underneath alongside the myriad of cuts over her skin. As peaceful as she appeared, sleeping away under the crumpled sheets, Harry couldn't help the tears that touched his eyes. 
With the door closing behind him, he drew closer to her bed. It didn't take much examination to spot the tear tracks glimmering on her cheeks, the swollen puff of her lips. It was the same way she'd looked when she had told him she didn't want to be with him any longer. 
Harry wasn't sure what broke his heart more: the obvious evidence of weeping on her features, or the fact that her tears would have skated over every cut and scratch marring her cheeks? 
He shuffled over the floor. He wanted to be at her side, hold her hand and let her know she wasn't alone anymore, but he didn't want to wake her. There was a reason that she wasn't allowed to head home after being checked out by the hospital team, the more rest she received the better. 
Instead, he gingerly made his way to her bedside, taking a spot in the uncomfortable chair seemingly waiting for him in the lamplight. With the way she was laid up in the bed, he had an unobstructed view of her relaxed features, some of the more notable injuries on her face bandaged up while others were left treated with nothing more than a glistening salve. She didn't look particularly comfortable, especially knowing how she usually liked to curl up with her hands to her cheek and legs to her chest, but this was better than nothing. 
Better than being in a wrecked car somewhere. 
The thought was sobering, enough to have those tears he had been urging away to resurface on his waterline once more. 
She was here. (Y/N) was okay—hurt, but well enough to be left to sleep on her own. She was no longer alone. 
He hung his head in his hands. He didn't want to think about what kind of accident would have put her here, blood on her face with machines monitoring every vital in her body. 
With those tears in his eyes, peeking up at her between his lashes, she looked like a watercolor painting. The edges were blurred, leaving the general outline of the person that filled his dreams and became his muse for the better part of the last year and a half. 
He couldn't believe the last month of his life. He'd lost her. And for what? Because he didn't think it was important enough to send her a text when he was going to be out later than initially thought? Because it was easier to let his schedule happen to him, as opposed to shaping his life around making enough time to spend time with her? Because why would he talk to her, tell her where he was coming from, when he could be passive aggressive and sweep everything under the rug instead?
The beeping of the heart monitor was the pitched baseline that anchored him to the room. Every dotted sound kept him from being swept away in the rivers of tears dripping down his heated cheeks. 
He could have lost her today. In the worst case scenario of this day, he would have received a very different phone call. He wouldn't have had the chance to sit at her side right now. He wouldn't have seen these healing injuries on her, instead having only old photographs to remember what life looked like on her. 
As cracked as his heart was at the moment, he would take these cuts and scrapes, this uncomfortable chair, the stiff set of her bedding, over any other ending this night could have had. 
The rain pelted against the window as Harry fixed his gaze to the love of his life. 
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, if it had been nothing more than a few minutes or if it had been hours at her side, until there was the soft click of the doorknob twisting with the door pushed open. Entering was a nurse in soft purple scrubs, hair pulled back and a clipboard in her hands. She had her eyes trained down before looking up to catch Harry wiping his eyes and (Y/N) unstirring in her bed. 
"Oh, hello," she murmured, voice soft as they were both aware of the patient in bed, "I didn't know she was having any visitors tonight." 
A barely there smile curled Harry's cheeks, his skin smooth of dimples. "Yeah, got here as fast as I could. Have you been helping her?" 
The nurse shook her head, "A little, but she's been asleep for most of it. Poor thing cried herself into exhaustion, so I doubt she really remembers meeting me." 
Her statement had his bottom lip quivering. Harry had to remind himself to be grateful she was even here to cry. 
"She's doing alright, though?" 
With a quick glance at the clipboard, the nurse nodded her head. "Yeah, she's doing much better—now that she's calmed down a little. We've just gotta keep an eye on her for tonight. She got a good crack to her head, so I want to make sure she doesn't sleep for too long tonight." 
Harry gave her a nod, a moment from offering to wake (Y/N) for her before the nurse stepped forward. In gentle tones with a hand to her shoulder, she woke (Y/N). 
Unlike her, she had been sleeping rather lightly, jumping awake after only a single call of her name. (Y/N) fluttered her eyes open, lashes sticking together from the dried crust of her tears, enough so that she reached her scratched hands up to rub the mess away. 
"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, her voice in a croak as she got her bearings. 
"Hello," the nurse responded with a gentle smile, "Sorry to wake you, hon. I just wanted to check on you, then you're good to go to sleep, again." 
"Okay," (Y/N) breathed, struggling to sit up. 
Without thinking, Harry surged forward, helping her as much as he could. The second he put his hands on her, (Y/N) jumped, having not seen him prior.
It was clear she was more than surprised to see him with the way her eyes widened, blanching at the sight of him. 
"Harry?"
He offered a quiet, thin smile, sitting back in his spot once she was stable, sitting up for the nurse. "Hi." 
Before much else could be shared between them, the nurse began running her tests. Small talk was shared between the two, (Y/N) glancing more than once in Harry's direction. His hands were a fiddling mess in his lap, watching with rapt attention as every evaluation was run. 
"Everything's looking okay—what I expected we'd be seeing," the nurse mused, writing down her information on the clipboard in hand, "But, how are you feeling? Any extra pain, anything you want me to take a look at or mention to the doctor?" 
"I'm fine," (Y/N) smiled, the expression less than convincing, "Nothing hurts any more than earlier." 
"Okay, okay," the nurse nodded, "That's good, let me know if that changes. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, so get in your rest while you can." 
A pointed look was placed in Harry's direction at her last statement, a teasing curl to the corner of her lips. (Y/N) gave a sheepish nod. 
"Right, thank you." 
The nurse departed with a couple of well wishes and a reminder that she'd be back in a few hours. Once the door clicked behind her, a stiff silence settled between them. The only sound came in the form of the mechanical beeping of the machines around her and the ending of the television movie playing. 
(Y/N) had her eyes facing ahead, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Harry stared at her. 
"(Y/N)—" 
"You're here." 
His throat bobbed as he heavily swallowed. "I am," he nodded, dropping his gaze to his picked cuticles in his lap, "Your mum called me." 
A furrow had her brow pinched. "Her and my dad are on vacation right now." 
Another nod, a strand of hair touching over his forehead. "They'll be back tomorrow morning, but she wanted someone to be with you tonight." 
Maybe it was the way her shoulders tensed, the glassy look that took over her gaze, or the pinch to her features, but something brittle settled in the air between them. Every breath felt delicate as he waited for any kind of response. 
"I'm sorry." 
It was his turn for his brows to knit together. "For what?" 
That fragile tension between them cracked. 
"You were on a date." 
Harry hung his head, lips thinning. He thought he would have more time to explain this. 
"'S not what it looks like, (Y/N)." 
She shook her head, voice quiet under her breath. "So it wasn't a date?" 
Sucking in a breath, his lungs squeezed. "I mean—It—Yes, it was a date, but—" 
The beeping of her heart monitor heightened, the pitch seemingly hitting higher than a moment before with the pace quickening. "So it is what it looks like." 
"(Y/N), 's more—there's more to it than that." 
(Y/N) only shrugged at his half-hearted response, her head hanging between her shoulders. 
Harry felt just as defeated as she looked now. This wasn't how he wanted to reunite with her, but he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers. This was the opportunity he had, and he wasn't going to turn it away. 
"What happened tonight?" he murmured, shifting the conversation away from his own blunders. Unfortunately, this avenue would be an easier section to stomach than anything she would want to know about his date. 
"I got into an accident." 
"I know," Harry gently prodded, "But, what happened? Y'usually only hit curbs, not anything else." 
His shoulders loosened when his teasing was enough to draw a huffed laugh from her, a slight smile softening her features. 
As much as they may have deteriorated recently, he did know her. He knew her better than he knew himself. 
"It was just raining really hard, and—I don't know—I wasn't able to stop like I thought. I slid and hit a pole, and... yeah." 
As much as he did like teasing her about her more precarious driving habits, he knew more than anything that she was cautious. It wasn't like her to settle into accidents like this—she rarely ever drove in weather like this anyway, let alone at night. 
"Y'never drive in the rain," he pressed, an unaired question bookending his words. 
"I know." 
Harry looked at her, waiting for more than those two syllables. It was fruitless, he knew. 
He hung his head, running an absent hand through his hair before his fingers found the pearl at his throat. Eyes on the floor between his feet, he couldn't look at her as he spoke once more. 
"(Y/N). What happened tonight?" This isn't like you. Why did this happen? 
The air in the room seemingly went still. 
When he chanced a look up once more, he saw her sitting in her hospital bed with sparkling tears in her eyes. His chest panged at the sight. He knotted his fingers tighter together, forcing himself to see from reaching out. 
"(Y/N)...," he started, voice decidedly more gentle than a moment before. 
She shook her head. "I didn't want to be home—and I was crying, and I wasn't paying attention and the rain was heavier than I thought—and just... Everything happened." 
What was worse? Hearing that she had cried more than once tonight, before she'd even got in her accident, or seeing her recount it with another set of tears racing down her cheeks? 
This time he couldn't help himself; Harry reached out to touch her wrist. Her skin was warm under the chill of goosebumps on her skin. While she didn't move to hold his hand like she used to, she didn't flinch away. That was enough, he thought. 
"Why were y'crying, lo—(Y/N)?" He internally cringed at his slip up. He had no place calling her anything but her name. "What happened?" 
Another shake of her head. "It's stupid," she sniffled, fluttering her eyes closed with the tears clinging to the tips of her lashes. 
"Not if it made y'so upset that y'ended up here tonight," he crooned, words a quiet lilt only for her to hear, "What happened?" 
"I—It's..." she cut herself off more than once, throat bobbing, "I don't... I was the one that broke up with you, I-I'm not supposed to be upset. It-It's not fair." 
Her voice was barely a whisper by the time she finished speaking. His hand on her wrist tightened, a snug warmth against her skin. He ran his thumb over the bone, pretending he didn't feel the cut just on the underside. 
He waited. 
Another made-for-tv movie started on her television. 
He waited. 
She took a deep breath. Her eyes still closed.
"You went on a date tonight." 
Harry's shoulders deflated. 
"(Y/N)—"
"No," she peeped, shaking her head with her arm stiffening under his hold, "No. You were on a date, and I'm crazy and I'm not supposed to be upset, but I couldn't handle it—I didn't want to be home alone an-anymore. I didn't think you'd be over it already since I'm not, but you-you can do whatever you want an-and I need to be okay with that. And, then you—your music, it started playing while I was driving and I-I—Harry, I couldn't stop crying and then I crashed." Her voice was clogged in her throat, muddy and thick. Her tone came in waves, ebbing and flowing until it gave out. "I'm sorry." 
There was no chance Harry had of keeping his own tears at bay as he listened. It was too much—all of it; hearing her beginning to sob over the thought of him being over their relationship, how just the sound of his voice over her speakers brought her to tears while driving, the fact that she'd seen photos of him out on a date had driven her from her home to get away from herself. 
He felt his skin flush, the warmth heading down his neck the same way his tears did. He sniffled his nose, his lips rolled between his teeth to keep himself from blurting out each thought he couldn't help but to have. 
He doubted telling her how much he loved her was going to be much help when she was so dedicated to the thought of him already finding someone new to replace her. 
"You—" he cut himself off when his voice came a croak, clearing his throat with his hand on her wrist. "Y'don't have to be sorry, (Y/N). You're not crazy, either—I don't know what I would do if I'd seen y'go out with someone else, either. Y—'M jus' sorry, I never—I didn't mean to—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured, shaking her head as she slid her arm out from under his hand, curling into herself while she refused to open her eyes. "It's not your fault—you—I ended our relationship, you can do whatever you want." A shuddering breath had her shoulders shaking, lungs rattling. "I-I'm sorry you're here instead of with her." 
Just short of climbing up on the bed beside her, Harry pulled his chair as close to her side as he could. There wasn't anything he could say—nothing that he could imagine would shift her mind on what she'd seen and decided was the truth. All he could do, even if it involved uncomfortable bending of his joints, was collect her into his arms and hold her. It was only then that the slow roll of her tears were let loose into full weeps, her face buried into his neck. 
She burrowed against him, sinking into him as if the last month hadn't occurred. His hands spanned over her form, familiar with every plane and curve. His fingers caught on the raised abrasions that could be felt through her thin gown, but Harry could only be grateful that those were the only evidence of her accident. The mechanical beeping of her pulse skittered high, enough so he worried that the nurse could be alerted of the disturbance. Nonetheless, he held her tighter. 
"There's nowhere else I want to be," he murmured into her hair, his voice watery like the tears running down his cheeks. 
Reaching towards him, (Y/N) wrapped her hands in the wool of his jacket, fingers clawing into the fabric in a tighter grip than he'd expected from her state. "E-Even tonight?" 
Her cry was thin and pathetic, causing Harry to pulse his arms around her once more. "Tonight—every night. As long as 'm with you." 
He could feel the flutter of her lashes as she cinched her eyes shut tighter. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, just audible given how closely he had her wrapped around him, "Wh-What about her?" 
He shook his head against her hair, his nose skating over her crown. There would be a time to really unpack why he found himself at a candlelit table with Natalie, including everything that was going through his head every time she spoke to him, but that wasn't tonight. She needed him, and all of the reassurance he could give more than he needed to clear his conscience and monologue over his feelings. 
"She's not you and that's all that matters to me," he told her, sincerity dripping in his tone, "All I want is you." 
(Y/N) cried in a blubbering sob, "I didn't think you loved me anymore." 
Harry's own eyes had to be shuttered closed then, a fruitless attempt in hopes of stemming the tears falling out of his eyes and into (Y/N)'s hair. "I didn't think y'loved me anymore, darling." 
"I-I do, I do," she countered, shaking her head in his neck with her grip tightening on him, "We-We just never saw ea-each other anymore, and I-I thought you were mad at me all th-the time and I thought we'd be happier apart—b-but I was wrong and—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed her, starting a circuit of his palm over her back, "I-I understand. But now we know—you're all I want, an-and I'll do anything to make it work with you." 
"You're all I want," she whimpered, voice tight, "Don't leave me." 
While a part of him was soaring knowing that she was still in love with him, that this wasn't over the way he'd thought, he was still more than heartbroken to hear that she was so torn up and broken herself. She thought she had no choice but to end the relationship in hopes of making both of them happier elsewhere. He never imagined himself making someone he loved feel that way. 
"I won't." 
—————
Rubbing the lack of sleep out of his eye, Harry stood back as (Y/N) checked out of the hospital. Her mother was twined to her side with her father looking just as distraught, though he was better at giving his daughter space. They'd come straight here as soon as they landed only a couple of hours prior, walking in on Harry who had stayed far longer than the originally carved out visiting hours with (Y/N) still in his arms. 
Gratitude was exchanged between them—Harry for coming to (Y/N)'s side at a moment's notice, and her parents for telling him at all and letting him be there for her—with a thread of stiffness lingering afterwards. Harry couldn't blame them; the last they'd heard about him was the fact that he'd been dumped by their daughter along with all the reasons why. They didn't know what had come of the night before, yet, only seeing the aftermath of their tear puffed faces and his arms wrapped around her.
Truthfully, Harry wasn't even sure where he stood with (Y/N) at the moment. Promises uttered through sobs after a traumatic event wasn't something he was going to hold her to. Even if he wanted to believe she was still in love with him and wanted to be with him like she'd said last night. 
Armed with paperwork and parents at her side, (Y/N) nodded to the nurse at the checkout with a plastered smile. Though they were still clear on her skin, the cuts and scrapes she'd earned in her accident didn't look so bad when she smiled with light in the eyes. 
Though he was still a bit too far away, he could hear the mumblings of a quiet conversation happening between (Y/N) and her parents. He was sure she was going to go home with them, and sort out everything else that couldn't be helped with a night at the hospital, but he'd wait until he knew she was safe before he'd leave himself. 
He watched from the corner of his eye, giving them privacy, though he could see (Y/N) waving off her parents before stepping towards him. It was a lingering departure, her mother refusing to let go too readily, though she eventually resigned herself to head down the hallway towards the bank of elevators with her husband and her daughter's paperwork. 
(Y/N) took shy steps towards Harry, empty hands a fiddling mess. 
"You're still here," she said, voice quiet to match the waiting room. 
He shrugged, a small smile having curled the corner of his lips. Was he supposed to remind her that she had asked him to stay, or keep that ex-boyfriend barrier in place? (If it was even still standing, given the way she'd fallen asleep in his arms just hours before).
"You're doing alright?" he asked instead, scanning over the planes of her face as if he didn't have them memorized already. 
She nodded. "Just sore, but I think I'm just going to feel that way for a little while. My head's doing better, though—I still have a headache, but I don't think it's because of the accident." 
Though she ended with a laugh, Harry figured she wasn't sure what to make of last night anymore than he did. 
"'M happy you're alright," he told her, sincerity weaved through his words, "Are your mum and dad taking y'home?" 
"Yeah," she nodded, looking over her shoulder to the couple waiting at the elevators, "I think my mom wants me to stay at their house tonight, but we'll see." 
"Oh, y'don't want to spend hours watching soap opera reruns tonight?" Harry teased, a sly smile touching his lips. The curl only stretched when (Y/N) laughed. 
"Not particularly, but who knows," she said, sparing another glance over her shoulder to see the audience waiting on her, "Um, we talked a lot last night." 
"We did, yeah," he nodded, throat bobbing as swallowed, eyes dropping from her own, "But, we don't—'m not—If y'don't feel the same way as y'did last night, 'm not going to ma—" 
"I do," she cut him off, a bright chirp that matched the spark in Harry's chest. "I do feel the same, I mean. We should probably talk a little more, though, right?" 
A dimple dented Harry's cheek, suddenly feeling incredibly more alive than just a heartbeat before. "Probably." 
"Are you busy tomorrow? In the morning?" 
It didn't take a second thought before Harry was moving his schedule around to keep his morning stark open tomorrow. Those meetings could be moved—maybe even made into an email or a quick phone call. 
"Not for you." 
The blooming smile she gave him was reminiscent of the first time he pulled that flirtation on her. 
"Good," she quipped, "I'll call you tonight or something, then. Maybe we could get breakfast tomorrow?" 
"I'll be there," he cemented, "Jus' tell me when." 
The rewarding light in her eyes made it easy for Harry to forget the last month of his light (except for the night he'd just spent with her, of course). 
"I will," she told him, "Bye, Harry." 
Maybe it was the way she hesitantly stepped towards him, or the shy way she had her lips rolled between her teeth with a budding smile, or the memory of her warmth against his chest, but Harry didn't think before he was collecting her into his arms. (Y/N) melted into his chest on instinct, wrapping her arms around his middle. He could feel the mush of her cheek against the cuff of his shoulder. Despite the sterile scent of the hospital clinging to her, underneath it all was the familiar fragrance of her shampoo and sweet body lotion she somehow never ran out of. 
Drawing away first, (Y/N) only put enough space between them to get a look up at Harry. Though her eyes were bloodshot, bags darkening underneath, and the shadow of her tears lingering in the corners, he'd never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N)'s eyes. 
"I'll see y'tomorrow." 
"See you tomorrow." 
Long after she untangled herself from his hold, Harry still felt (Y/N)'s warmth long enough to carry him home and keep him company until his phone rang a familiar tone later that night. 
—————
ahhhhhh I never write angst so I hope this turned out all right! thank you sm for reading, and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or anything at all send them in!
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lqveharrington · 12 days ago
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Double Surprise | R.L.
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summary: The Marauders and Lily come over for Christmas Dinner but you and Remus have a little surprise for them all.
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
includes: mentions of sex, talks of pregnancy, drinking, sirius and reader acting like siblings, overall just fluff
a/n: this idea came to me randomly 🤷‍♀️ (and it’s not even Christmas time yet??)
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Ever since you fell for Remus all those years ago, you knew he was the one you wanted to be with forever. He did as well. You went from talking, to dating, to engaged, and the latest: married. And every single time you fell harder and harder for him.
So it was no surprise that you wanted a child with him. A mini version of your love right beside you. After a long conversation with a worried Remus, you both decided it was time. You were able to soothe his thoughts about the full moon and a baby at the same time which you knew was his greatest worry. He didn’t want to accidentally turn you nor the baby into what he was.
With many nights of trying — although both of you could argue that some of those nights were much more passionate than others — you were finally pregnant with his child. There was no other way to tell your friends about the news except over Christmas dinner, of course.
“How do I look?” You bit the tip of your thumbnail in anticipation, looking at yourself through the mirror hung in the hallway. “Presentable enough?”
It wasn’t like you were scared to tell them… Actually, you were beyond terrified to tell them, especially Lily. She was practically a sister to you at Hogwarts and you always told her everything that happened in your life. And having a baby was the most important news of all.
“Gorgeous as always, dovey.” Remus murmured as he carefully wrapped his arms around you with his hand placed on your stomach, cradling the growing fetus.
You weren’t showing at all. You were barely two months, but you knew he meant it as a comforting gesture. You tilted your head to look at him properly and smiled when he placed a gentle kiss to your lips.
You parted and bit your lip softly, smiling even harder as you looked between his eyes. “What was that for?”
“Just admiring the one I love.” He nudged his nose with yours and kissed you once more.
The moment was sweet enough to give you a cavity, but the rapid knocking from your front door caused the both of you to snap out of it. You lean your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a second, letting yourself stay in comfort for a little longer.
Finally — after more aggressive knowing from the door — you sigh and press a loving kiss to his lips. “Get the door, please? I need to check on dinner.”
“You just don’t want get cold.” Remus patted your hip as you sent him a cheeky smile.
“You know me so well.” You blow him an air kiss as you sauntered into the warmth of the kitchen.
But even from the kitchen you could hear the shouts of the people at the door, which amused you beyond all doubt. Sirius — of course — was the loudest voice you could make out. His shouting loud enough for the neighbors to hear over the thickening snow.
“Moony, let us in! It’s freezing!” Sirius shouted as he pounded on the door with his fist, teeth chattering.
The next voice you heard was James. And it was no surprise to you that he used his wife’s name to get Remus to open the door faster.
“You don’t want Evans to freeze, do you?”
Finally, you heard Lily’s voice through the thick door. “It’s Potter now, but we all know I’m still your favorite, Rem!”
You snickered when you finally heard the door unlock and feet stumbling into the warmth of your house. The clunking of boots and your coat rack filled the air as you pulled the food out of the oven.
“Oh, thank Godric.” Sirius immediately collapsed onto the arm chair, propping his feet up toward the fire place. “I couldn’t feel any of my bloody fingers.”
Lily hastily placed her coat into James’ hand before directing her attention to the Welsh man beside her. “Remus, I love you, but I love your wife so much more.”
At that, you perked up and rushed into the living room, colliding with Lily and crushing her in a tight hug. “It’s my favorite Potter!”
“Hey—“
“Says you, Mrs. Lupin.” Lily kissed both your cheek and held you in front of herself to get a better look at your figure.
Thankfully, you wore a comfy sweater that covered your barely showing bump. Lily rubbed your arms, smiling so bright it challenged the sun’s rays. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, face radiating pure joy.
“How did we both get so lucky?” You return her smile and lead her into the kitchen with questions trailing after. “How are you?”
James looked at Sirius and Remus in disbelief, still surprised that the girls left them faster than the speed of light. Remus shrugged and still had a lovesick look on his face.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” James propped his coat and Lily’s on the rack and snapped his fingers in front of Remus, sighing when he glared at him.
“Are you sure?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and nudged Remus with his elbow. “It could be fun.”
“You two are so weird.” Remus rolled his eyes and left them to set up the dining table, shaking his head when he heard the two of them bickering as they followed him.
“You’re part of this friend group!”
As the smell of Christmas dinner filled the house — along with chatter from all of you — it was finally time to reveal your surprise to the group. They were merely talking amongst themselves as they ate dinner, oblivious to the glances you kept sparing to your husband.
You were still anxious about how the reveal would go down. Noticing this, Remus brought your hand up and kissed the back of it with a look a reassurance. Now you knew you had to tell them.
“Mm, you know the Longbottoms? They have a child on the way.” Lily drank from her iced tea as she told you the latest gossip she heard since the last time she saw you.
“Really? It seems like everyone we know is.” Sirius swirled his wine around before downing it all in one go.
You grimaced at him, masking your face when he made eye contact with you.
He glanced around at the table and gave you and Lily confused looks, refilling his wine in the process. “Hang on now, how come you,” He pointed a finger toward your figure. “And you,” He then pointed at Lily. “Aren’t drinking wine? Christmas is the best time to drink some.”
“Saving it for the in-laws.” You waved a hand around and did your best not to project nervousness. “Besides, Remus isn’t drinking either.”
Sirius stuck his tongue out at you then quickly retreated when you sent him a dirty glare. He was about to protest when Remus interrupted. Remus knew that you two fought like siblings and it wasn’t needed today.
“Speaking of gifts…” Remus squeezed your hand and grabbed your attention once more. “Dovey got you guys early gifts.”
You nod slowly and clear your throat, letting excitement take over when you saw Lily light up. “We’re going over to his parents’ house for Christmas and I really want to see your reaction to this present. It’s one that can’t that long.”
As you stood up to find the presents for them, Remus guided them over to the living room right in front of the Christmas tree. The three of them sat across the carpet like children on Christmas morning. You handed them their gifts and took a seat next to Remus, his arm naturally moving across your shoulder.
Before Sirius could even tear into his gift, you stuck your hands out to stop him. He frowned and crossed his arms, almost like he was a child.
“Sirius— I want you all to open them at the same time.” You swiftly spoke and fiddled with Remus’ fingers instead, effectively calming yourself down.
All together, the three of them opened their gifts and suddenly, gasps filled the air. Lily and James’ mouths were gaping and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad sign.
“What do you guys think?” You bit the inside of your cheek and leaned your head in Remus’ shoulder, trying to defuse the nervousness creeping up your body.
Sirius huffed and spun the picture a thousand times without looking at the other gift inside. “I can’t tell what it is… What’s written on it?”
“You’re kidding.” James looked between you and Remus before down to your stomach, running his fingers through his hair.
“Really? You’re being so serious right now?” Lily twisted the ends of her tissue paper in excitement, ready to jump all around the room.
“Hey, wait—“ Sirius tried to intervene, still clueless to what the photo was supposed to be portraying.
“Congratulations! The odds of this happening is pretty slim.” James stood and clapped Remus’ back, giving you both happy looks.
Your face twisted in confusion as you looked up at James, Lily trailing right behind. “What do you mean?”
“Me too.” Lily placed a delicate hand on her stomach, making you gasp in return.
“Really?” Your eyes shined brightly, grasping her hands in yours.
“Yeah, just found out a couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged and watched James and Remus converse about the new fatherhood they would embark together.
“Congratulations, Lils!” You giddily exclaimed and pulled her into another soul crushing hug.
Lily laughed in enjoyment. Not only was she happy you were pregnant, but she was overjoyed by the fact you were pregnant as the same time as her. Although you were ahead by a little.
“What is happening?” Sirius whined, throw the paper onto the ground before looking inside the gift once more. Once he found the onesie that said he was going to be an uncle, everything clicked into place. “Ohh…”
“You poor thing.” Remus rolled his eyes before meeting your happy eyes.
You radiated pure joy because of today and he swore that this memory would be etched into his mind forever. No matter what happened, he knew you always had someone to talk to about anything. He pulled your waist and kissed the top of your head, knowing damn well your face was red.
“I’m so happy for you, dovey.” He murmured softly and rubbed your stomach. “I love you more everyday.”
You look up and smile back, “I love you too, Rem.”
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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musicforastylesrestaurant · 7 months ago
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The Best Interruption.
my masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here x
authors note - seems like the perfect idea to me so enjoy huns 💗
word count - 1k
in which, harrys been in his at home office for the majority of the day, and your little one is getting antsy after not spending time with there best friend, so when he’s typing away and answering emails, they stroll into the office, crawling onto his lap.
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Harry sat at his home office desk, surrounded by a sea of papers and instruments. He'd been cooped up in there for most of the day, lost in the creative whirlwind of composing new music.
And it was now nearing two o clock.
With a cup of tea steaming gently beside him, Harry's fingers danced across the keyboard as he typed out an email to his manager, Jeff. Each keystroke was deliberate, each word carefully chosen to convey his vision for the upcoming project. He glanced out the window, watching the world go by outside, a brief distraction from the task at hand.
Lost in the melodies swirling around his mind, Harry remained unaware as the door to his home office cracked open ever so slightly. His focus was firmly fixed on the task at hand, oblivious to the world outside his creative bubble.
Unseen by her immersed father, his two-year-old daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth and her favourite baby blanket trailing behind her, ventured into the room.
With careful steps, she approached his chair, her small fingers reaching out to touch the soft fabric of his joggers.
Quietly, she stood beside him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she watched him work. She held her bottle of warm milk tightly under her arm, her little face a picture of innocence and wonder.
Finally, as if sensing her presence, Harry's gaze flickered downward, and he found himself met with the sight of his daughter standing beside him.
With a chuckle, Harry glanced down at his daughter, her giggles filling the room like sweet music.
"What are y’doing in Daddy's office, you little minx?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.
Giggling even more, his daughter squirmed in his arms, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Daddy's office fun," she declared, her words slightly muffled by her dummy.
Harry smiled down at her, his heart swelling with love.
"Well, I suppose you're right about that," he admitted, gently adjusting her on his lap. "But s’nearly nap time f’little munchkins like you."
She pouted playfully, but Harry could see the telltale signs of tiredness in her drooping eyelids.
"Nooo, not bedtime," she protested weakly, her hand reaching up to play with the cross necklace around his neck.
Chuckling softly, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest.
"Yes, bedtime, m’sunshine," he murmured, tucking her baby blanket around her. "But we can have some cuddles first, okay?"
Settling against him, his daughter nodded sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled into the warmth of his embrace. Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling her soft breaths against his skin.
"Where's Mama?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"In kitchen," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, a sleepy smile playing on her lips.
Harry chuckled, the sound filling the room with warmth.
"F’course she is," he said fondly. "She's always busy taking care of us, isn't she?"
As his daughter drifted off to sleep in his arms, Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of her peaceful face. Gently stroking her hair, he whispered, "Y’my little angel, you know that?"
She mumbled something incoherent in response, her thumb finding its way to her mouth as she snuggled closer to him.
Leaning back in his chair, Harry let out a contented sigh.
"You're right, sweetheart," he murmured, more to himself than to her. “S’is nice, just you and me."
She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of his voice. With a sleepy nod, she spoke the words,
"Milky."
Harry's smile widened as he reached for her bottle, a warm sense of nostalgia washing over him.
"You want your bot-bot, huh?" he asked gently, his fingers wrapping around the familiar shape of the bottle.
His daughter nodded again, her eyes bright with anticipation as she watched him prepare her drink.
"Alright, m’sunshine," Harry said softly, lifting the bottle to her lips. "Here you go."
She grasped the bottle with both hands, her tiny fingers curling around it as she took small sips, her cheeks flushing with contentment.
Watching her drink, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how quickly she was growing up. It seemed like just yesterday she was a tiny bundle in his arms, completely dependent on him for everything.
Though his daughter was perfectly capable of holding it herself, he liked the feeling of being needed, of taking care of her like he did when she was a baby, so he helped her hold the bottle, and the notsalgia hit him like a train.
She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she leaned into his touch.
"Tank ou, Daddy," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.
Harry smiled, his heart swelling with love. "Anything f’you, m’sunshine," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Harry didn’t know how long it had been but it wasn’t long before his little mini-me was snoozing against his chest, soft snores falling from her mouth.
It must have been about another ten maybe fifteen minutes.
"Harry, have you seen—" your voice spoke as you entered the room, but he quickly put a finger to his lips, his expression a silent plea for silence.
"Shhh," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Look."
Your eyes followed his gaze, and as you glanced down, you breath caught in your throat. There, fast asleep against Harry's chest, was your daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth, an empty bottle of milk resting on his desk.
A smile spread across your face as you stepped closer, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your family.
"Oh, bubba," you whispered softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your daughter's face.
Harry smiled up at you, his eyes shining with pride and affection.
"I think she wanted t’help Daddy with his work," he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth.
Your daughter stirred slightly in her sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible as she snuggled closer to her father.
"Hey," you whispered, leaning in closer to your husband and pushing some hair out of his face, "I'm sorry if she interrupted your work."
Harry shook his head, a warm smile spreading across his face.
"Why are you sorry?" he asked, reaching out to stroke his daughter's cheek tenderly.
"She's the best interruption."
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meetmymouth · 1 year ago
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social media au: harry and y/n are besties. really good besties. featuring LOTS of tweets, memes, insta posts and harry being horny in the comments section.
note; i rarely use a face claim. for this one, i somehow (it just happened) used gracie abrams. there’s not many photos of her, though. hope u still find something funny below to enjoy either way.
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liked by yn and others
lloyddddddddddddddddd Love On Tour. Nothing I can type here can describe what the past 18 months have been like for me. I’ve loved every second. Thank you so much to everyone involved and to all of the incredible people Ive met along the way for making it a truly phenomenal experience.  And ofc a special thank you to @harrystyles for bringing me along, what a boy.  Hope you all enjoyed the pics 💘
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bradgouldtraining Best in da game
ynsgolden LLOYD ITS SEVEN IN THE MORNING!!!!!!!
glenne_azoff @yn
paulithepsm @yn
harryshoehouse bet u were giggling taking the second pic
lolharryshouse why's everyone tagging y/n lmao
harrysgrapejuice EVERYONE TAGGING Y/N JHFBSDNS
yn nice abs asshole
harrysgotthestyles YN!!!! LMAOOOOOOOOOO jessbrian ok girly we see u dianelouise JUST TEXT HIM LMAO
captainstyles someone check on y/n lmao
jeff_azoff @yn 👀
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liked by harrystyles and others
yn day n night (see also: my two personalities)
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ynsbread ok but queen
harryteheestyles sooooooo classy 🙄
harryscowboy WHOSE PILLOWS??????????
gemmastyles That t-shirt is so you.
yn thanks again 😂
bradgouldtraining 👀
anthonypham don't start yn yeah be gone mr. muscle
harrystyles 🐎
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lilystyles · 11 months ago
Text
wildest dreams.
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part two of style, written by @lilystyles
my masterlist & style masterlist
authors note the very requested part two of style. i got lots of asks & reblogs & comments asking for more of style!H so i decided to write one for y'all. thanks for all the love on it. also there was one ask i got with the idea of y/n going on a blind date and i LOVED it so thank u anon 🩷
brief description y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn’t like it one bit.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (f!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, missionary, riding, very slight breeding kink, no condom, all the good stuff) sexual tension, mentions of drugs&alcohol abuse. wordcount: (around 15k words)
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Harry arrived at Y/n’s massive and buzzing share house almost twenty minutes before eight.
He’d parked his car nearby and quietly realised to himself on the walk up the driveway that he’d never actually been inside the sharehouse before. He had dropped her off a fair few times and picked her up a handful from here but Y/n preferred to come stay at his place. He couldn’t blame her, Niall’s place was similar he lived in one of the frats nearby campus. His room and the house were disgusting and Harry much preferred his clean quiet house with his sister. Even though Harry was in a frat too, he lived out of the house. The only reason those guys had welcomed him into the frat in the first place was because he was on the Uni soccer team and he was really good. His room was turned into a storage room for alcohol, dartboards, and bongs. Harry had hooked up with a few girls in there regardless of the lack of bed.
He felt a funny feeling in his tummy walking up the driveway, since when did he get nervous? He’d been with so many people he didn’t think that existed for him anymore. But this was different, this wasn’t just anyone this was Y/n. His Y/n. The girl from home.
He looked up at the house biting his lip, Y/n’s place certainly wasn’t as trashy as Alpha Chi Sigma, thankfully. Hers was a little ways off campus it was this old run-down brick house with two stories and eight rooms. It was jam-packed with students and actually threw quite a few parties, known on campus for its great big backyard and one of Y/n’s roommate Mike's weed brownies. Y/n didn’t care all that much when parties happened, she’d either invite Emma and they’d have lots of tequila and end up asleep in Y/n’s room, or she might even invite Harry and his mates too just for fun. Otherwise she just locked her room and escaped to the library or the Styles’ place. 
As Harry reached the big red door he knocked loudly and a short girl opened the door before his knuckles had even retracted back to his side. He recognised her from his Economics class, he thought. She was in some pyjamas and looked up very confused.
“You're not the Chinese guy.” She said eyeing him annoyedly, groans escaped the mouths of others inside, and he could understand their disappointment. “Who are you?”
This made Harry feel suddenly rather guilty for not being the Chinese delivery guy and he frowned, “I’m Harry, ‘m a friend of Y/n’s?”
“Upstairs third door to your left.” She said shortly opening the door wide enough to let him in before promptly sitting back down on the couch with a bunch of other students, they were watching what looked like a Japanese horror film. 
Harry shut the door behind him and made his way upstairs quickly, Y/n’s roommates didn’t seem all that friendly, he hoped was going in the right direction. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard music coming from one room that sounded like a rave and knew that definitely wasn’t Y/n’s room, he heard people chatting away in another, and when he was at the third door he saw a small sign on the door that said ‘Y/n’s Room <3’. He smiled at the familiar neat handwriting that was on so many birthday cards in his collection, and knocked on the door, with a few quick taps.
He heard some shuffling behind the door and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. There she was, his Y/n. Even though he’d only seen her a few hours ago it felt like a long time ago now. How did he already miss her?
“You're here early, Styles.” She said surprised checking the time on her phone in her hand. Harry didn’t seem the type to show up early, and normally he didn’t Y/n knew that about him from years of experience. He was even late to his own birthday parties and if you asked a single person who had hooked up with him they’d say he was always late when they invited him over. Just his way. He wasn’t a timely person.
Harry smiled down at her form, she looked much more rested than this morning. She had taken a nap for a good portion of the morning and a long shower cleaning every inch of herself, she felt very rejuvenated now. The warm water had soothed her aching muscles and small bruises that littered her body from last night. She’d washed off all the sweat and alcohol that had sweated out of her this morning, and her hangover had eased, thank god. She had taken some aspirin for her head too and drank lots and lots of water. 
She looked so soft and cosy, the golden light of her room hit her face, showing all the angles of her calm expression. She was wearing this matching tracksuit set that was a blue almost grey colour, and some fuzzy pink socks Emma bought her for Christmas last year. Her hair was freshly washed, dried, and styled in her usual way. Her beautiful face was bare of makeup only some moisturiser that smelt really good, and her lips were covered in a glossy lip balm.
“Wanted to make a good impression, Babe.” He said smirking. 
Y/n let him join her inside shaking her head, it was very unlike him to be on time and she’d expected he would arrive around 8:30 instead of 8. He placed his bag of snacks and DVDs down onto her little bed taking in the space. 
Her room was so her, she had this big mattress on the floor that took up most of her room. Her sheets were mismatched shades of pink, blue, and lavender and she had about a dozen pillows. She had lots of fairy lights strung up, posters, and photos covering her walls. Her mattress and little desk by her window near the back of the room took up most of the small space. But if she had picked a bigger room that meant having a roommate so she didn’t mind all that much.
It was quite neat in here. She had all her desk organised with her laptop and textbooks. Her cupboard had somehow miraculously shut despite the large array of clothes stuffing it. She had a candle burning that smelt like cinnamon cookies, but underneath the candle was the underlying smell of her. Whether that was her laundry detergent or something that was just her, Harry didn’t know, but the smell brought him great comfort.
He shrugged off his big thick coat too, the day had turned into a windy-rainy one and he wanted to stay warm, but Y/n’s room was very warm inside. He was in an ashen grey hoodie with red flannel over the top, some black jeans and sneakers. His hair was unruly as always but he looked extra good today. He made himself comfortable on the bed grabbing a pink bear and cuddling it to his chest playfully. He dwarfed her bed with his tall form, and he looked so funny sitting in her bed. Harry Styles, sex god, player, and party animal, with a rotten attitude, was curled up in her bed. She almost wanted to take a picture to show people, but she knew she wouldn’t be telling a soul about him being with her tonight.
“I’ve known you for years I already have all the impressions needed, Harry.”
He looked over at her from her bed. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me on a date before, have yeh? I can be wholesome.”
What? This is a date? 
Y/n blushed deeply, if she’d known that this was a date she would have dressed a bit nicer. She was just in some joggers and a hoodie, but to be fair to her they were her nice ones. The ones lacking ice cream stains and holes. Harry had seen her looking like a hungover mess, he’d seen her in the middle of the night at the library, he’d seen her with the flu, and she never looked bad even at her worst.
“This is a date?” She asked looking down at her sock-covered feet.
She’d been dreaming of this day since she was a kid when Harry had helped her when she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. She still remembered the day vividly, it was something she thought of every time they all went home to Holmes Chapel for the holidays or summertime, and they drove passed the playground. She still had the scar their on her right knee, even now. And she remembers Harry putting the bandaid on for her and kissing her knee to ‘take the pain away’. Every time she felt the little bump or saw the lighter patch of skin on her knee she thought of him kissing it. She’d stopped crying after he’d done that and from that day on, her heart belonged to him. 
She thought if they ever did somehow end up together on a date, that’d he would take her for a drive or they’d go to the cinema. Something normal. Maybe even a romantic stroll somewhere or something wild like skinny dipping. But instead here he was in her room making himself at home in her little bed where she’d spent hours thinking of him; before her eyes finally allowed her to sleep.
He laughed at her shy expression, patting a spot on the bed beside him for her to sit. “Wasn’t I obvious about that?”
She sat down beside him, laughing at herself she didn’t know much when it came to dating, she’d only had two or so boyfriends. She’d tried the one-night stand thing once but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know dating etiquette. So she was all stiff beside him now feeling even more nervous than before he’d arrived. This whole thing with Harry frankly didn’t feel real, she’d liked him for so many years and only now was he starting to show similar feelings toward her, it honestly tripped her out a lot. It would be like your celebrity crush showing up at your door with flowers, a bit of a dream, right?
“Not to me.” She said looking at him. He smelt deliciously good beside her, and she wanted to devour him.
He looked over at her with the same eyes he’d given her in the kitchen when she’d comforted him, all soft and molten like an ice cream on a hot day. As he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm and smooth against her face. He was so gentle with her and she felt her mind flashback to last night for what felt like the millionth time when his hands were all over her body. Though they’d been a bit wild, he was always gentle with her unless she asked him otherwise.
“Well I’m sorry, but this is a date, is that alright with you?” He asked, nibbling his bottom lip to contain a smile. She was just so cute, sitting there in front of him like a doe-eyed little thing. You’d have thought that she barely knew him with how she was acting.
She nodded. “Fine by me.” 
“Good to hear, Baby.” He sighed at her because she still seemed very nervous. He didn’t know how to comfort her other than touch. “Why are you so far away? You know I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”
She looked over at him, “I’m just nervous, I guess. If my fourteen-year-old self could see me now…”
She didn’t finish her sentence.
This made his heart swell. “You're nervous around me? Even after everything we did last night?”
She shrugged like that was an obvious conclusion. “Well, yeah…of course.”
This made him throw his head back laughing, like a little kid. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous too. S’okay to be nervous. But don’t worry it’s just me. Nothing special.”
That made her feel better, she looked up at him, a smile cracking on her face. “You're nervous too?”
He nodded. “Of course I am. I’m on a date with a gorgeous girl, I’d be a fool not to be.”
Y/n pecked his cheek in response, her lips smearing against the tiny stubble on his cheek, as she quickly moved away and opened the bag excitedly to see the things he’d brought. He brought snacks as requested all their favourites (peanut M&Ms, popcorn, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s) along with a few DVDs. The one he had been raving about was in there and she grabbed it putting it on the very small telly she had by the end of her bed.
Harry explained a story about how he went to three different grocery shops to find the peanut M&Ms because apparently, the world was in a shortage today. This made Y/n want to kiss him because he’d gone to all that effort knowing Y/n’s favourite movie snack was M&Ms. Whenever they went to the cinema she always got them, and the three of them would go a fair amount. They loved going late at night and talking loudly in empty cinemas about how cheesy the films were. 
She looked at him from the edge of the bed. He’d kicked his sneakers off into the corner and he was resting on her bed, head lying on her pillow, a knitted blanket over his lap. He looked very comfy and at ease, and honestly, he was. The smell of her bed was comforting and the soft tone of her voice was soothing. Y/n had a way of driving him crazy, usually when her attention wasn’t on him, but a way of calming him instantly when their eyes met.
“You hungry? I want pizza.” She asked brows pinched in thought.
He nodded grabbing his phone to call them. “Sure. Joeys?”
“I think I want a ha—”
“Hawaiin with no pineapple, I know, you freak. Who doesn’t like pineapple?”
“Me.” She said. She’d never really noticed how observant Harry was until now. He knew her pizza order, he knew she liked peanut M&Ms, he knew her chamomile tea brand, and he knew she liked popcorn extra buttery. Which happens when you have history like they do, but she never thought he cared that much. So what if she knew he liked pepperoni with extra spice? She was obsessed with him for most of her adolescence, that made sense. But why did Harry know that? She was the obsessed one.
“Hey mate, yeah can I get a large Hawaiin no pineapple please, and large pepperoni extra spicy, and a loaf of garlic bread too thanks.” He said into the phone. 
Y/n told Harry her address in a hushed tone and he parroted it to the pizza guy on the phone. The pizza would arrive in 20 minutes from now, so Y/n joined his side happily and hit play on the telly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his side, and it all felt very domestic. Her cheek was resting against him and she felt her eyes drooping even though she’d already napped today.
Y/n normally cuddled with Emma and watched movies on her shoulder while Harry brooded on the leather recliner and complained when the girls picked a rom-com of some kind. But she saw him cry during The Notebook last month. He always said Spiderman was his favourite movie but she knew it was actually The Notebook.
She felt guilty at the thought of her best friend, and a pang in her tummy. Normally if a guy had even made eye contact with her Y/n was blowing up her phone with every detail, that’s what best friends are for. But she couldn’t tell her about Harry. They’d stop being friends. Emma and Y/n had many friends who had come and gone because of Harry, she didn’t blame any of them for shagging him. He’s always been attractive and shaggable, but she knew better than to get with him then and she didn’t know what had done it but lately, he’d just been irresistible last night and right now. 
Maybe back then she just had more self-control. Y/n remembers a girl named Cami the most. She and Harry hooked up once drunkenly at a party Gemma had thrown while Anne and Robin were away and the next morning Emma and Y/n walked in on her giving him a blowie. Cami was then banned from any other sleepover. Which was a shame because Cami was super nice, it made Y/n wonder if those years of friendship protected her from Emma’s harsh banishment or if that didn’t count. 
“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked her playing with the strands of loose hair resting against his arm.
She looked up at him away from the telly she’d zoned out on. “I- Em.” She said.
Harry nodded. “Yeah, I knew it would be something you’d be thinking about.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I just- she’s gonna hate me, H. I want you, but you know I can’t.”
Harry knew Emma was Y/n’s number one person and they were basically like sisters, Y/n was a part of his family, though he’d never seen her in a particularly brotherly way. She came on holidays overseas with them, she was invited to family dinners, and they’d even had a Christmas Eve together a few times in the past couple of years. And that wasn’t something he would ever try and get in the way of, Y/n being there was what made him want to attend. Because he loved that Y/n was a part of his life in that way and he’d grown up with her, he loved having her around. He cherished those moments and even though he didn’t act like it, he would miss her when she wasn’t there. Last Christmas Eve she was with her Grandparents and he’d hated playing Scrabble without her.
She had no idea of any of his true feelings. Which was his own fault, he knew that, he was purposefully rude to Y/n to keep her at arm's length, and acting like she didn’t exist to try and suffocate his feelings from her. Emma was behind that, ever since he could remember he wasn’t allowed to share Y/n. Emma was always reminding him when his eyes lingered on her longer than they should, that Y/n was Emma’s best friend, off limits. And despite how he felt about her he’d listened to keep Y/n out of the drama of Emma’s wrath. 
But Harry cared for Y/n very deeply and he wished Emma wasn’t so weird about it. Why couldn’t they both just share her? And anyway, it was Y/n’s decision, not Emma’s. She wasn't a toy she was a person, who made her own decisions whether or not Emma approved. Normally Emma’s judgement was the only thing Y/n needed to make a decision, but when it came to Harry she had to disagree.
And anyway, she seemed pretty happy to be wrapped up in his arms right now, despite knowing what trouble it would cause if anyone found out. She knew it was wrong to lie, and hide, but she didn't think it was wrong be around Harry. That's what felt right.
“I know she doesn’t like people getting involved with me.” He began, “But that’s only because they always get hurt by me and it becomes a whole thing. But I would never hurt you.”
His reassuring words made her feel better but she looked up at him, with one more worry. “How is this any different than you and Cami, Lacey, or Tiffany—” She was about to continue her long list of girls but he cut her off.
“Because you're the only one for me.”
Y/n was about to ask him what he meant by that but the doorbell rang. “That’s probably pizza.” 
She sat up and left before he could say anything else. 
She was happy to be with him and she enjoyed his company and his cuddles but this whole thing scared her a lot. There were a lot of risks in going down this path with him and she was painfully aware of all the risks, she knew every single one and the reason she hadn’t gotten with him before now was because she knew it was dangerous for her to get involved with such a gorgeous devilish creature. 
Don’t get her wrong she trusted Harry with her life. But that doesn’t mean she trusted him when it came to his relationships. He’d never had a girlfriend, all the girls thought they were his girlfriends but he never saw any of them as more than a shag. Which is fine, but she knew she couldn’t be satisfied with just a shag. Her heart was too soft for that boy to only want his dick.
When Y/n came back with the warm pizzas burning her hands Harry was sleepily cuddling her bear in bed and she felt her heart melt and let her thoughts melt away too. They ate the pizza in bed and all worries were washed away as they distracted themselves with Y/n’s favourite film. When Harry Met Sally. 
Harry remembered the countless times this movie was on at midnight when he came downstairs to see Y/n asleep on his couch using it to tune out Emma’s snores.
Her eyes stung with sleep as she watched tonight, it comforted her, and the smell of Harry and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She fell asleep quickly into the movie and Harry only noticed when he was getting no replies from her during his complaints about how cheesy and unrealistic this movie was. When he realised she was asleep right there on his chest he stopped talking and moving; wanting to let her sleep there. He grabbed the knitted blanket from the bottom of their legs and brought it to just below her chin. 
Kissing her forehead before focusing back on the movie. He thought Meg Ryan was pretty fit and the gentle breathing of Y/n was calming, it wasn’t long until he fell asleep too holding her very close to him. Not a worry about being caught, or oversleeping, just enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft breaths that hit his neck.
It was a couple weeks later until Harry saw Y/n again and he hated to admit it to himself that he missed her, more than he’d ever missed anyone and it had just been a few days. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and she was already driving him up the wall.
She’d called him that afternoon and it brought out something in Harry he’d never expected to find within himself.
Harry was not a jealous person. He wasn’t possessive at all. Never had been and he never thought he would be. It just wasn’t who he was. He always thought it was because he just never had those feelings within him, he just didn’t care. He thought jealousy was stupid. What good came from it? Jealousy never accomplished anything.
He didn’t care if the people he’d been with had moved on or gotten with someone else, one time a girl he’d had a bit of a fling with for the Summer ended up hooking up with his best friend and he truly didn’t care. Like at all. They expected him to get angry, shout, or stop talking to them at least. But he didn’t he just shrugged and said something about how he understood. He found someone else to spend the night with quickly after their conversation, and when someone brought it up he completely forgot it had even happened, which shows how little he cared.
He just never got jealous, and it was something he felt was beneath him. Since he saw sex as such a casual and easygoing thing to him, he felt like he belonged to everyone and no one all at once and so he saw people as all the same. It was all just a blur of people and feelings. He was lucky, he never got sad after sex or disgusted he just felt a release, left, and that was that. He didn’t like to chat all that much, he was a fuck and leave kind of guy. If the person really needed a cuddle or some aftercare he wouldn’t just leave right away but he knew cuddling usually meant feelings growing, so he tried to avoid that at all costs too. Which to some was just awful to be around, and he could understand that too. Sometimes people wanted a connection that wasn’t just compatible kinks or sexual chemistry. Something deeper, love, burning lust, tenderness. That’s not to say Harry wasn’t a good lover, he was great no matter the person he could click well with them. He made them feel like they were the only two people in the world, but there was still a bit of a shadow to his love-making that made the people know that’s all it was.
Just a fuck, just a kiss, just an orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.
He’d heard or read about people having sex that felt like fireworks or magic or something ridiculous and sappy and he’d thought it was all blown out of proportion. Sex was more primal and animalistic to Harry. It wasn’t something otherworldly. It was like eating, sleeping, or breathing. It was just a natural human experience and urge, and people needed it to survive a healthy life. It wasn’t tied to any emotions, just like eating a sandwich at lunch. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either.
And it certainly wasn’t ethereal, or at least it wasn’t until Y/n.
He hadn’t felt so connected with someone like that ever. In conversation, in sex, in life. She understood him, she accepted him, and despite their differences, it worked. And god, when they had sex it was just so time-stopping. Touching her was like touching heaven.
His jealousy, his attraction, made him realise he liked her. Like actually liked her, and that if this was what liking someone was that meant he never had before. He’d never liked anyone except her. 
He’d never wanted to date someone, take care of them, and be with them without having to do anything. Just be together, you know?
Harry wanted to date Y/n, take care of her, and just be with her. The unfamiliar feelings rolled through his skin like a tidal wave. All these feelings were new to him, and it meant he didn’t know how to act. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know who to confide in.
Because now all of a sudden he was a jealous person? It just didn’t make sense. None of it did. 
When he found out Emma had set Y/n up on a double date with her and Zayn, Harry was not one bit okay with it. He couldn’t have cared less if someone he’d been with fucked his best friend in front of him, but the idea of someone thinking they could talk to Y/n made his skin crawl. Someone getting to touch her like she’d let him, someone getting to kiss her sweet lips, whisper filth in her ear? He hated it. He hated the thought. 
Jealousy burned his skin like wildfire and he didn’t know what to do. He knew Y/n wasn’t his girlfriend, but they’d been on a date now which meant more to him than any other interaction with any girl he’d ever had. It had been a perfect first date that eventually led to her falling asleep in his arms and him playing with her hair as he memorised every freckle on her face. They both woke up the next morning with a giggle and she walked him to his car her hand in his, and to his surprise kissed him against the hood of his car. It was enough to have him dazed and wanting more, her lips smeared against his excitedly with an innocent giggle. When she pulled away she whispered a breathless goodbye and he hadn’t seen her since.
They’d called a few times and chatted until the early hours of the morning about anything and everything, and he’d seen her at his house a few times. But he wasn’t allowed to act how he wished because Emma was always there, he’d always call Y/n when she was home complaining about how he wished things were different. But since neither of them knew what was going on yet they knew it was best to not tell her.
Y/n didn’t want to go on this double date. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Zayn’s friend Peter was a notorious prick on campus. He was just straight-up horrible and so jarring on the senses. They’d met here and there and Niall hated him too which was enough for Y/n to know everything she needed about the bloke.
Y/n was pretty sure no one liked him, not even Zayn. But Y/n agreed for Emma’s sake. She knew Emma really liked Zayn (or so she said) and this was one of ‘the only ways their date would happen’. But that didn’t make her not want to go any less. She called Harry as soon as Emma left her place to get ready. 
He answered on the third ring.
“Hi, Baby.”
She could practically hear his smile. Things were going well for them. She thought the shift from whatever they once were to this would be awkward but it was easy. They were still teasing, and rude, but the words hardly had any edge anymore. Even when she swore at him it felt like a kiss and now when he stared at her Y/n noticed the softness in his eyes. Had that always been there?
“Hey, Styles.”
He sighed softly sitting down on his couch, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Y/n?”
“Some bad news.”
He sucked a breath, “What’s wrong?” His voice melted into her spine, and he sounded worried. He was thinking the worst, and though this was pretty shitty it was nothing like he was thinking. He hoped she was okay.
“You know I like you, right?”
He nodded but forgot she couldn’t see. “Yes, I like you too, what is it?”
“I’m sorry, H, but I didn’t know how to say no without blowing our cover…” She said avoiding saying it. She didn’t know how he would react. He’d been so lovely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Spit it out, Trouble.” He said.
“Emma begged me to go on a double date so she could be with Zayn.” She said pinching her eyes shut and practically wincing on the other line.
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes, I’m sorry,”
Harry felt a pang of jealousy rush into his chest unfamiliarly. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She sounded so guilty over the line, he was just glad she couldn’t see him. He was embarrassingly jealous. He felt winded as his hand moved up to his chest, squeezing where the pain was. Normally he always knew the right things to say, but he struggled to find the words. He was just pissed.
Emma, totally got in the way time and time again. It’s like she was out to sabotage them. He wanted to tell her off, but he knew better. Y/n would be mad if he did that.
“It’s fine, we only went on one date.” He said, but it didn’t come out like he wanted. He wanted to sound aloof and fine. But his voice came out forced.
Y/n sighed, he was right they had only been on one date. But she felt that it had meant more to her than any other dates she’d been on. And she was sure it would mean way more than this stupid date. “I know. But I wanted to tell you that I don’t like Peter. I hate that guy actually, he’s a fuckin’ prick….” 
Harry despised Peter. Even more now. He got to be with Y/n all pretty in public on a date, Harry knew no one would treat her as well as he could. Harry knew what she wanted. What did Peter know?
“...But Emma asked me. And if I’d have said I was seeing someone else, involved in something serious, she would have drilled me like a Russian spy. You know that it’s very surprising for me to be seeing someone, she wouldn’t have let it go.”
Something serious. His heart swelled despite it all.
Harry let out a small laugh, “It’s okay, Y/n, really.”
“I don’t want to go, but it’s only for a few hours. Can I call you after?”
This made him smile, despite how pissed he was she was so cute. “Yeah, ‘course.”
“Okay, good, well I have to get ready, Styles, talk soon.” She said.
“Bye, Trouble” He hung up and his hands itched to do something. But he knew he couldn’t do anything he’d just have to wait for her call. The whole thing made him antsy. 
Just as he hung up Emma walked through the front door. She was holding some shopping bags.
“What are you up to?” He asked. They looked like clothes and shoes.
She looked over with a smile. “Me and Y/n have a double date.”
He acted surprised standing up, “Oh yeah? With who?”
“Zayn and Peter.” She said walking to her room and Harry followed, wanting to know more details he’d been too afraid to ask Y/n.
“When?”
“Tonight, at seven,” Emma replied quickly hands looking through her racks of dresses, eyes far from Harry who had sat himself on her bed.
“Where?” He prodded.
She looked over, “What is this? 21 questions? Why do you care?”
“I’m not allowed to be interested in your life? Gosh, forgive me caring, Em.”
She rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d grown out of the protective thing?”
“I just worry about you two. Boys are pigs.”
Emma sighed. “You would know.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“We’ll be fine. It’s just at Andy’s Burgers. It’s super close to Y/n’s place. And your friends with those guys, you know they aren’t serial killers.”
His lips curled in disgust as his jaw clenched and defended himself. “Zayn is fine. Peter is not my friend at all. I hate him. He’s such a stupid twat. I don’t understand why would Y/n go out with him.”
Emma turned around her hands landing on her hips. “Because he’s hot and he’s supposed to have a big dick.”
This made Harry’s jaw clench hard. Peter better not try anything with Y/n, or he’d rip that dick off. “Why would Y/n care about something like that? Doesn’t she like guys with actual brain cells? Doesn't sound like her.”
Emma squinted, her brows pinching. “Like who, mate? It really is none of your business, Harry, we don’t question your awful taste. Anyway, I don’t see why you care? Y/n can get with whoever she wants.”
This made Harry’s stomach curl. No, she couldn’t. She could only be with him. He wanted her all to himself. No one was worthy of her, not even himself, but at least Y/n wanted him. She didn’t want Peter. She’d just told him he was a prick, she couldn’t want him.
Harry didn’t want anyone else, and he’d turned down a plethora of women and men since that night with Y/n in his bed. He’d avoided telling her that, to avoid upsetting her. He sat up, annoyed and beginning to feel his mind go on a loop of bad thoughts of Y/n with other people. Y/n kissing another boy. God, it made him feral with rage.
He shook himself out of the images pooling in his mind. “Whatever, I’m going to Niall’s. If you need me call me. Don’t let them drive you home if they’re drunk or summat.”
She nodded. “Thanks, H.”
He nodded getting up and leaving. “Bye, Em.”
“Catch ya.” She said. 
Harry grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left. He was gonna blow off some steam with Niall. Anything to get his mind off Y/n sitting pretty beside that dickhead ginger Peter. Thoughts of Y/n drifted to the back of his mind as he played Mario Kart with Niall and talked shit about Niall’s new boyfriend Paddy, Niall met his mates last night and they’d been proper twats to him and Paddy tried to gaslight him later on when they got back to his flat. Niall ended up leaving in a fit of rage. Harry tried his best at giving advice, he wanted to confide in Niall about this whole Y/n thing but he knew it could blow up in his face. Not that he didn't trust Niall to keep it hushed.
Y/n’s thoughts however were on only Harry, she would do anything to be on a date with him right now. They could be sharing a milkshake and talking about music or their days, honestly with Harry she would be happy to watch paint dry, his company made anything infinitely better. He was fun, he was cheeky, and she could be herself.
But no, she wasn’t with Harry, she wasn’t having fun at all. And she could hardly be her normal self one bit. She had to be quiet and polite when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes and spit out what a dickhead this boy sitting in front of her was.
She was sat beside the stupid prick Peter sipping down this actually quite delicious peanut butter & chocolate shake that was new on the menu and munching on some fries to keep her lips and hands busy while he talked her ear off. She loved the food here. She and Emma came here all the time to study and eat their body weight in their fries which have this great chicken and spicy salt flavouring on.
She just wanted the date to be over. He was so dull. The only thing he’d talked about the entire date for the past hour was him. His father’s business, how he could’ve had a career in Hockey if he didn’t injure his knee in his final year of school, and then making jokes about his ‘big’ dick and laughing like the complete and utter Tory he was. Which Y/n knew was a load of crap because one time he’d sent it to Emma during their first year of Uni and it wasn’t horrible but it certainly wasn’t some magical penis like he was saying.
Even just by looking at his face, you could tell he had no idea where the clitoris was. (Harry knew where it was blindfolded and you could just by the cocky look on his gorgeous face).
Y/n honestly thought it would’ve been less painful to slam her head between a door repeatedly. Zayn and Emma were hitting it off from the other side of the booth. They were leaning in closer, giggling, flirting. She was happy for Emma, really she was, but she didn’t see why she or Peter had to come. They added nothing to this date.
She was thankful when dinner arrived, it meant the date was almost over. She dove into her burger eating quickly so she could make an excuse to not talk or look at Peter. She hoped if she finished quickly the date could end quickly too.
“Are you girls going to that party on Saturday?” Asked Zayn taking a sip of his strawberry shake.
Emma looked at Y/n swallowing her mouthful of cheesy fries. “That’s the one at Harry’s Frat. Niall’s idea.”
Y/n nodded, she’d only go if Harry did or Emma really wanted her there. “Oh, dunno. Maybe.”
Emma smiled. “It sounds fun. I love costume parties.”
Y/n sipped on her shake and looked down at her lap her phone had a message from Harry on it. She’d check when no one was looking. She thought it was cute that he was checking on her.
“Hate those guys though. So cocky.”
Y/n looked up and without thinking scoffed, staring him down. “Who Harry and Niall?”
Peter looked over. “Yeah. Think their god’s gift because their football team’s the most supported at the Uni. Bunch of twats.”
“Can’t be any worse than you.” She said, and Emma was surprised eyes widening from across the table, Y/n’s words held a bite. But she knew that despite Y/n’s soft timid nature, she did not put up with people saying rude things about people she cared about. She was generally a calm, soft, and kept to herself kind of person. But if someone said something she didn’t agree with she always spoke up. “At least their only point of conversation isn’t about their less-than-thrilling cocks and daddy’s money.” She rolled her eyes.
“Calm down, Babe. It’s a joke. We are all mates here.” Said Peter.
Her brows furrowed as she looked at Emma, why wasn’t she saying anything? If someone had said something about either Y/n or Emma to Harry he probably would have punched them without even thinking. And Niall too, Y/n remembers one time some guy smacked Y/n’s ass at a party and Niall had to be pulled off him by three people.
“Are you dumb? Niall is our best friend and Harry is Em’s brother, you really think we aren’t going to be annoyed if you talk shit about them? Who do you think you are, huh?” She said turning to look at him.
Emma diverted the topic to something else and eventually, when Peter and Zayn were talking about Hockey, she made a signal for Y/n to follow her to the loo. Y/n was still pissed, and very ready to go home, she felt herself stewing in the corner her rage burning up under her skin. She didn’t understand why Emma hadn’t said anything, and that frustrated her more. She really hoped Emma was devising a plan for their escape but when they stepped inside the bathroom Emma stared at herself in the mirror reapplying her lip gloss she said something Y/n very much did not want to hear.
“I know Peter was a dick, but did you really have to have a go at him?”
This made Y/n even more annoyed than before, she’d only come on this fucking date for her and now she was complaining about how she acted when Peter was the one acting like a prick. Y/n didn’t see why she was at fault.
She and Emma never argued, Y/n didn’t like this. Emma was always on her side, even if Y/n had been in the wrong Emma would always be on her side. And anyway, she was protecting Harry and Niall. Not just anyone. She didn’t go out of her way to make the conversation turn into her having a go at him.
“Yes. I did. I only came on this date for you so that you could be with Zayn. Which you could’ve done without me and Peter. He’s awful, and you two could’ve just gone and done something on your own I don’t see why I had to be here.” She said, arms folding and Emma watched her. 
“And you know I don’t like when people are rude about our friends.”
Emma nodded. “I know Babe, sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You never go out with guys, I didn’t want to make you feel bad if me and Zayn start dating, you know?”
Y/n’s brows pinched, she was acting like that wasn’t Emma’s fault. Every boy she’d ever liked other than Harry, Emma had stolen or taken away. It’s like she wanted Y/n to be all hers. Not that it bothered Y/n much, if she couldn’t have Harry should didn’t want anyone anyway. 
“I don’t care about boys.”
Emma sighed grabbing her hand. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there, Babe.”
“Okay, sure, I see your point. But Peter? Really?”
She laughed. “Yeah, your right, he isn’t really your type. But he was the only available one on a Friday night.”
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, wonder why.”
Emma tucked a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you one last favour?”
Y/n frowned eyes sharpening. “I’m not shagging him.”
Emma laughed tossing her head back. “No, not that.”
“Then what?”
“Can you get a lift home with Peter instead of me? I invited Zayn over, Harry’s gone to Niall’s for a bit. I need a good shag, and I need it now.”
Y/n sighed, a big groan leaving her lips. “Fine. But please make this date end soon. I don’t want to miss Murder She Wrote which starts at 9.”
Emma laughed. “Okay Grandma, don’t worry you’ll be tucked in bed in 30 minutes I can guarantee it.”
They stepped outside the loos walking back to their table and Y/n sat down on the side with Peter, sitting as close to the edge as possible. While the three were wrapped up in conversation Y/n quickly checked her phone she had a message from Harry still waiting for her reply.
Harry Styles 🍒 
Call me as soon as you're home. Miss your voice.
This made her smile to herself, hearting the message before returning her attention back to the table. The three of them were talking and Y/n felt herself zone out staring out the window. Rain was dripping down against the windows. She was just thinking of Harry, and internally screaming at the fact she wasn’t on a date with him right now. He had become more clingy than she’d expected over the past few weeks, he called her a fair amount and they snuck talks in private when they could but they hadn’t had a chance to go on another date yet. The way he was so kind and clingy to her was honestly shocking, normally he was the best at a fuck and ghost. She assumed he’d do the same, which she knew she’d just pretend to be fine with and then probably lose her shit when she saw him with another girl.
But nothing had been as explosive as she thought it to be, and that was probably because Emma hadn’t the faintest idea. 
By the time everyone finished their meals Zayn and Emma made a dash for it. Leaving their money on the table with the cheque. Zayn paid half and Peter paid the other. Emma kissed her cheek and patted Peter’s shoulder before the two raced away, giggling. Y/n was cranky at the fact Emma had only thought of herself the whole night and sighed leaning back into the seat of the booth. More than ready to leave.
Y/n frowned to herself as Peter seemed totally intent on keeping her there for a bit more of a chat. 
She tried to be polite about needing to head home. Making up some project she needed to do, but Peter’s hand slid onto her knee and she felt disgust crawl up her spine. She felt uncomfortable.
“Maybe we could just pop into the loos then, I bet your into that kinda thing. Can tell."
Y/n’s jaw dropped and she pushed his hand off quickly, she tapped her phone and Harry’s number dialling instantly. He was in her favourites. She needed his help, she knew he would come. She brought the phone to her ear.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said lips curling in anger.
Harry picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Baby.” He said, raspy. There was lots of noise, he must’ve been in the car driving home.
Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “C’mon, don’t be such a prude. I paid for your dinner. You owe me at least a blowie.”
Harry, spoke over the line into her ear. “Y/n?”
She snatched her wrist out from his rough palm. 
“Get off me!” She shouted and grabbed the last of Emma’s milkshake from the table and threw it onto him. He flinched at the cold milkshake hitting his skin, his Ralph Loren polo was now caked in thick pink liquid, and his ginger hair was now soaked and dripping down over his eyes as he gasped. 
“Bitch!” He shouted, wiping his hand over his eyes.
“Fuck yourself, you pathetic fucking prick.” She shouted pointing her finger at him. Harry had heard the interaction and his fingers curled against the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from his grip. He put his foot on the pedal. He was already turning the car around in her direction.
“Sorry, can you pick me up please, Harry? Peter’s a creep, I need you.”
“Of course, hang tight I’ll be there soon.”
Peter was shouting at her like the pathetic baby he was and some waitresses came over to help clean up the mess she’d made by throwing at him. 
“Sorry,” She whispered to the cherry-haired girl who came over with a cloth and spray. The girl just laughed as Peter rushed over to the manager who had come out at the sound of the ruckus. 
“It’s okay, he seems like he's a bit of a knob.” She said looking over at Y/n. 
“Are you alright?” The blonde waitress asked from the other side of her.
“Yeah, he’s just a handsy asshole,” Y/n explained.
It took only a few minutes before the doorbell rang above the entryway door and Harry entered the restaurant. He looked dishevelled and his eyes were wild as he stepped inside. His hair was wet from having walked from his car to her, the thunderstorm outside had soaked him. The top of his grey hoodie was speckled in rain, and his eyes were all stormy and this dark green that Y/n melted over. He made his way over to her and she felt herself forget for a second why he was here. 
She was just happy to see him.
“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, feeling relief flood her tummy. Harry always made her feel safe. He’d always felt like her protector even growing up. She remembered one time at her school dance some boys were trying to get Emma and Y/n in their car, they were drunk as skunks and she remembered Harry racing over and Y/n’s whose eyes were glassy with worry and he actually rubbed her arm. Then he drove them both to the party and made sure they were okay the whole night. He’d made her feel safe then too.
He rubbed her wrist, almost the same as that night at school. His thumb stroked it softly, as his eyes darted from hers to Peter who was still there. Covered in a milky pink drink, and swearing angrily.
Harry made his way over to him and grabbed him by the collar, in a rush of anger. He was bursting with anger and Y/n watched him surprised in her spot by the waitresses. She watched silently, expecting Harry to just tell him off. But he did more than that, Harry’s fist connected with Peter’s face and it made a slap, and he fell back onto the counter of the register with a bang.
His nose was bleeding upon the impact.
“If you ever touch her again I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” The calmness of his tone was actually chilling and Y/n felt herself tense up. Harry pushed him again. She knew if she let him he’d stay and pummel him for the rest of the night.
She walked over quickly and grabbed his arm softly. “C’mon, let’s just go. Can’t beat his awfulness out of him.”
“‘Can try.” He replied but ultimately he listened, pulling her into his side and they both apologised to the staff as they exited the restaurant. Harry’s hand slid into hers and she followed him to his car it was raining bad, big fat droplets hitting their faces as they walked steadily to the car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, he shut it when she was all tucked inside. The rain was coming down heavily and when he plopped in beside her he didn’t start the car, his hair was drenched and his eyelashes were thick with water. His face had turned soft again. He watched her for a beat. “Are you sure you're okay? I can go murder him if you want.”
She was silent for a second before turning to face him, she looked beautiful even with her frown. “Harry’s it’s fine. Can you just take me home?”
He nodded. She looked tired and frustrated, and in turn, this upset him. Y/n was too sweet to be treated like this. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to her when he was around. He’d take care of his girl. The drive to Y/n’s house from the burger place really wasn’t far and she normally would’ve walked home if not for this heavy downpour of rain, and she had wanted Harry to be the one to comfort her. When Harry’s car pulled up outside the front of the house she looked over at him.
He was waiting for her to say she’d call him later and kiss his cheek but she didn’t. She looked up at him and sighed, bringing her hand up to push a loose curl away from his forehead.
“You wanna come up?” She asked.
He smiled. “You sure?”
She smiled bigger. “Yeah, come on.”
He turned the engine of the car off and just as Y/n went to open the door he said, “Wait.” 
She listened, watching as he bolted out of his side of the car to go to her side and open the door for her. She giggled at the gesture. Harry really wasn’t what people thought. 
He held his hand out for her to grab and she grabbed it as he helped her step down. The rain was heavy but neither of them seemed to care all that much considering they were both already soaking, and walked slowly up to her door. His hand was warm in hers and she shivered into his side. The rain had brought a chill to the air that nipped at her skin.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside pulling him in with her. The house was nice and warm, they’d been lucky enough to have an old fireplace still built in. It warmed the front rooms and meant their heating bill was much less since they only had to take care of a few small rooms. Harry followed her down the hall. 
This was the second time he’d been here, so now he knew where her room was he followed less nervously. The house was practically empty tonight beside from a few people in the living room and kitchen. Everyone must’ve been at one of the frat parties. She opened her bedroom door and they kicked off their shoes and socks that had gotten all soggy. 
Y/n shrugged her small pink coat off and put it over her desk chair. Harry stayed sort of stagnant behind her. Running his fingers through his hair. 
“Are y'cold, H?” She asked gripping the hem of her top, her back was facing him as she lifted it off. Revealing her lacy pink bra and bare back.
He felt his eyes widen and cheeks heat up. She yanked her jeans down and revealed a pink g-string that matched. It had bows on it, and it was all girly and pretty. Suddenly the wholesome urge to take care of her turned back into something a bit less wholesome. His cock twitched as she bent down to take her socks off. He had a great view of her plush perfect body. His hands flexed by his sides, and he looked down at his feet, did she want him to look?
She turned around running a hand through her hair, “Styles? You okay?”
She looked like a fucking dream.
He nodded looking up. “I- Yeah,”
She giggled. “What’s wrong?”
He rolled his eyes sighing, a smile remaining on his face. His cheeks had dusted in a soft pink that was unusual for him and only made Y/n more inclined to tease him. Roles reversed.
“Don’t play all dumb, you know you're fucking gorgeous. And I can’t exactly concentrate when you look at me like that.”
She walked closer to him as her hands slid under his hoodie and thick cotton t-shirt, hands grazing his skin. Her hands were cold, and he hissed slightly but made no movements to step back.  
“Like what?” Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. 
“Like that.” His hands slid around her back and down to cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her closer to him. Their height difference had him bending down, ready to scoop her up into his arms.
She moved her hands onto his shoulders and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, lips close to his. “Kiss me.”
He leaned down connecting their lips together. She pulled him closer, whispering against his lips. “‘M cold.” 
He leaned into her touch, she was gripping him tightly against herself. He pulled his arms away from her to lift his jumper off. She gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled that off too. His tattoos filled her vision and she wanted to bite and suck and lick and touch every single one of them. God, he was just gorgeous. And honestly, being able to kiss him was more pleasurable than any other experience she’d ever had. Kissing him alone was something she could do for hours. When Harry just looked at her that alone was more breathtaking than anything any other boy had done. To have him here in her room, kissing her, holding her, well it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. If her fourteen-year-old self knew she’d probably faint, scream, cry, and go into shock.
Her hands slid to his hips and gripped the button of his jeans, as his hands found her cheeks and kissed her again. She yanked them down a little bit revealing the fern tattoos she loved so much. She remembers him posting on his Instagram when he’d gotten them, Y/n practically choked on her water when she saw them. He was just walking sex. She wasn't any better than him, completely filthy in that head of hers.
He started walking forward and leading her back to her bed. She sat down on the mattress eyes wild looking up at him. His bulge was right in her eye-line and she smiled up at him, and she grabbed him to join her. He slotted in perfectly into her arms and his hips pressed into the thin string that was covering herself. He wasn’t ashamed that his cock was already growing in size in his pants, and he gently pressed it against her in hopes of some relief to his aching balls.
She sighed breathily into his mouth at the weight of him on top of her, she kept pulling him even closer. Their chests pressed into each other, and Harry was so warm, and Y/n was so soft. He could’ve stayed like that all night, in her arms.
He pecked her lips one last time as he pulled away to kiss along her chest. The little necklace she always wore that Emma had bought her was around her neck. It was the first letter of her name. His finger ran along it, stroking her upper chest.
“Should get a H.” He said before nibbling into the plush flesh of her tits. They were so warm and soft against his face. If he wasn’t so needy for her he’d just rest against them and sleep, smelling her delicious scent of that clean soft scent she always smelt of, it was so comforting to him.
She smiled and softly ran her hands through his hair, her legs were still wrapped around his back. “Why?”
He looked up, and suddenly all those emotions of jealousy and protectiveness were back rushing through him and making his hands squeeze her hips tightly. “So people know you're mine.”
This shocked her a bit and Harry was nervous for a second, he had revealed quite a bit of feelings in that moment and distracted himself with her neck. Kissing along her sweet-smelling skin. His lips were so gentle against her like he was afraid she’d break.
“And then what would you wear to show who you belong to Styles?” She said. Her voice was raspy and breathy from his kisses. His head snapped up and he smirked wickedly. 
“Well, why don’t you mark m’back with your nails like last time, and leave some bruises on m’neck until we can come up with a permanent solution?”
She smiled and felt her pussy throb at the thought. After the last time Harry was between her legs she’d ended up with bruises on her thighs, hickeys everywhere, and she was so sore it hurt to sit all day. She’d told him one night on the phone and he’d lost his mind over it. Loved the idea of Y/n being marked up from him, sore from their sex, unable to sit without thinking of him.
"Sound good, Princess?"
“Okay.” She replied content with his answer. Her lips formed in a pouty kissy face and he came up to press his into hers for a long peck, she smiled when he pulled away. How could he be so cocky and rude but also so soft all at once? He moved his way back down her body and kissed her hips sucking a spot into her left hip. His hand rubbed her stretch marks along there and kissed over the now bruised mark he’d made.
He moved further down until his mouth was right against her pussy. His nose brushed against the material as he looked up at her. “Gonna let me take care of you?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He smiled. “You’re such a good girl f’me. Perfect lil' thing.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
He loved when she slipped into that state of submission and obedience because normally, despite her calm presence, she basically never let Harry have anything without being teased. She was a bit of a brat to him, which turned him on an unfathomable about.
He pulled her knickers off and threw them to the side. As he spread her legs even further apart he moved one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder and the other he pushed forward toward her tummy, practically folding her in half. His ring-covered fingers gripped them and he leaned in close to her. The lips of her were like petals of a flower, splayed out and dewy. Her clit was puffy and swollen in arousal like the bud of a flower. He brought his free hand forward and circled her clit softly. Her hips squirmed into his hand and he heard her let out a shaky breath. 
“Ah,” She gasped when he leaned in closer and his breath hit her dripping pussy. It was cool and shiver-inducing and she could practically see his smile, even though her eyes had made their way shut.
He placed a gentle kiss on her clit and her hands moved to his hair quickly. “Please.”
He was teasing her and he loved the reaction it pulled from her. Now that they’d already been together once there was a certain familiarity in this. He knew what she liked and he was ready to explore things that he hadn’t already. Including taking his time and eating her out like he’d been thinking about since he was probably fourteen.
He looked up at her, her lips were in a pout of frustration. “What’s got you pouting, Princess?”
“Want you t’help me, Harry.”
“You can beg better than that, Y/n.”
“Please, Daddy.”
“Please what, Baby?”
“Please taste me, Daddy. Need your mouth. Want it.”
He smirked looking up at her. “‘Atta girl.”
She felt her clit throb at his raspy words. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe of her slick up into his mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet just like he’d imagined. His mouth watered at the taste, and he smirked. Once he’d tasted her he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease her any longer. He started moaning and grunting into her and the vibrations of it had her mewling and tugging on his hair.
“Fuck.” She cried out, neck arching into the pillow.
He was acting like a starved man and sucking onto her clit with such a hunger that it startled her. She hadn’t expected him to be so wild and good at it. She knew he was good, but Jesus, she was already feeling so much pleasure within mere minutes. He was suckling into her bud like a bee on a honeysuckle flower, all headily. The sweet nectar spilled onto his tongue as he kissed her lips, and practically devoured her whole. She was already feeling dreamy with the pleasure, floating with lust.
As he began to speed his tongue up and get more sloppy with his languid movements, she gained less control of her body. Her legs tried to shut on him and they were beginning to shake softly, he gripped them tighter and split her open for him.
His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of her hungrily, and as he slipped his tongue near her weeping hole she let out a particularly loud whine and her back arched off the mattress. “Fuckin’ hell, feels good, Daddy.”
He pulled away for a breath looking up at her, rubbing his thumb over her clit in slow hard circles that had her eyes welling with tears of pleasure. “Yeah, sucha’ good girl letting Daddy eat this little pussy.”
She was bucking her hips and squirming under his tight grip. He could tell she was getting close as she ground against his face, her moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her slick was dribbling down his chin and he was moaning every few licks. He’d taken to rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress for some relief, and Y/n coming on done from his touch was too much for him to stay still. He needed to relieve himself. Or he’d come his boxers, which he thought we be a bit pathetic. He wanted to prove to her how good he could be with her, how he liked to take his time when he could. But his neediness was making him have a little less control than he liked.
He continued eating her pussy with such a raw animalistic frenzy that her orgasm washed over quickly, taking her by complete surprise. Her tummy filled with waves of pleasure that shot all through her body as her muscles tensed and her pussy throbbed, she could feel herself clamping down onto his tongue as he groaned.
When she came it was with a desperate, soft, cry of his name. “Fuck, Harry.” She said, shutting her eyes and gripping his hair. “‘M cumming.”
“Cum for me, angel.”
She did. Hard. She felt like she had no control of her body as Harry talked her through her orgasm encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl.”
He’d slipped his fingers inside with ease and began curling against her. She felt herself fall back limp into the sheets as he continued licking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, and her hands moved to his hair once again pulling on it. Her mouth was loose-lipped and she found it hard to keep herself quiet now.
“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” She said breathlessly, all soft and quiet. It made him smile as he looked up at her, slick coating his lips. 
“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum again?”
She nodded biting her lip. “Mhm.” She said before throwing her head back when his fingers hit that soft spot inside her that she couldn’t reach with her own fingers. It made her melt and shake.
Harry noticed her reaction and smirked to himself. “Found it.”
As she watched him from between her thighs, his head bobbed and the muscle of his arms flexed, he was pinning her to the bed so that he could keep going. Her second orgasm found itself much easier, it took Harry a few kisses and rubs against her clit along with his fingers pounding into her until she came. 
Her legs moved to shut around his head and her nails were scratching along his shoulders and back. She kept repeating the words, “Please, Daddy.” Over and over, until.
“Oh, I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”
He kept his steady pace and sloppy kisses going, pulling away only to say. “Cum for Daddy, pretty girl,”
And she did. It was like his words had complete control over her. The ball growing in her tummy snapped and rushed through her. This time her whole body shook as she gripped onto his arms in support, she felt this release like a tidal wave.“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”
The tightness of her muscles flexing and her body shaking had her spent. She had never come so hard, and it for so long. It was a few minutes before she finally felt the pleasure subside to something more easy to take. 
She was mewling and babbling all drunken from her orgasm. “Jesus, H.”
He helped her through her second orgasm, kissing along her hips and thighs to give her swollen clit a chance to rest. When she finally came down from the peak of her orgasm, she went limp again, eyes shut, and for a moment there she couldn’t hear or see anything. She could only feel him. Feel what he’d made come over her.
When she looked down at him he’d pulled his fingers out only a few centimetres away and his mouth was damp. His chin was covered in slick and as she began to take in his appearance. His neck and the top of his chest was dripping. She was confused for a second, it couldn’t be sweat. Despite their intense state, she knew he couldn’t be sweating that much. And then she realised. 
“Oh, I squirted, sorry.” She said embarrassed trying to shut her legs. He looked at her like she was crazy moving back up so that his hips were between her thighs.
“Sorry? What are you on about? You squirted f’me, and you looked beautiful doing it too. Absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”
She smiled, still feeling shy and blushy. She’d squirted on his dick before, but certainly not his face. She hadn’t expected it to feel so good. “Thank you for making me cum.”
He smiled, and despite his rotten mouth and dominant cocky rough edges, in that moment he looked all soft and gooey and truthfully the fact he got to see Y/n so soft and vulnerable around him made him eternally soft for her. He wanted to see her like this all the time. Red-faced, pouty lips, eyes glassy in pleasure, and words slurring from complete satisfaction. Something only he got to see.
He wanted to be the only person who got her to squirt all over his face. Wanted to be the only one to taste her sweet little pussy. He wanted to be the only man for her. He felt so possessive over her like a kid not wanting to share his favourite toy. But he knew at the end of the day, it was always going to be her decision who she was with. 
But Y/n thought that over the years it was pretty damn obvious who she wanted. 
Harry was the only one for her. 
She wasn’t in some other boy's bed tonight, she was with him right now, running her nails softly along his arms despite how needy they both were for each other. She was slow with her touches like they had all the time in the world because really they did.
It was raining so heavily outside, the wind was howling wildly rustling all the trees nearby, and the thunder roared above them. The shelter her little room provided them with was perfect, and it felt like all time ceased to exist. The sky had turned dark and so had their eyes, her room was almost pitch black, and they were both so warm and close. Skin to skin.
Y/n was right here, naked, and waiting for him. 
Things weren’t so bad after all.
He placed a soft long kiss on her lips and she could taste herself on his tongue. Things tonight felt different than the first time, although Harry was fueled and fiery with jealousy and he wanted to take her roughly, it all felt more intimate.
His hands moved to her hips squeezing the plush flesh and running his hands over the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Every inch of Y/n was beautiful, and he’d never thought that before about anyone. He’d never seen someone's hands and thought what absolutely beautiful hands they had, or what beautiful teeth they had, or how cute their ears were. There wasn’t a part of her body that he wouldn’t worship. 
To him, she was the picture image of beauty.
The kiss deepened as he rolled them over. His head rested where hers just had, and he could feel the warmth her body had left behind. She sat right up against his cock, and she could feel him throbbing against her. His old thin boxers left little room for him to hide his aching want. He was honestly rock hard, watching her cum twice, feeling her, tasting her. It had him so hard he could’ve cried.
Her tits were right in his eyeline, all soft and full. He took one into his mouth sucking on her sensitive nipple, and enjoying the loud whine she let out. His hands had fallen to her ass now, and she’d taken to grinding against his clothed cock. He could feel the wetness of her leaking down onto his boxers and he wanted to stuff her full. Despite her two orgasms, Y/n was still managing just fine on top of him.
She pulled back just slightly so she could grip the hem of his boxers and tug them off. His cock sprang up against his tummy, and even though she’d seen it before she’d probably never get used to how fucking big and gorgeous his cock was. The pink ruddy tip that glistened in precum, his long veiny shaft, that girthiness he had. God she could stare at it for hours, she thinks he is beautiful in the way those ancient paintings of Greek gods were beautiful. His hair was unruly and curly and fit for a golden wreathe to sit, his body all muscular and tanned, his absolute manliness. Something about how capable he was was just enough to have her squirming her thighs.
If she was to paint him, she’d want him to look something like this. Messy, needy, and staring right at her. She moved her hand to grip his cock giving it some gentle strokes, he was hissing already. Her hands were so warm and soft, and she pursed her lips and spat down onto him, allowing her to stroke him faster.
“Such a pretty cock, Daddy.”
He let out a laugh through his moan, “Pretty?”
She nodded. “Just like the rest of you. Beautiful.”
He felt his cheeks warm in a blush. No one had ever called him that before. She was still stroking him and he felt his eyes begin to squeeze shut in pleasure. His hips rutted up into her hand a few times.
“Want to feel this pretty cock, Daddy, please,” She said, her voice in a gentle begging tone.
He opened his eyes and smiled his hand moving from her hip to her cheek stroking it with his thumb. 
“Come sit on it, all yours to sit on, Princess.”
She smiled up at him, kissing his jaw and letting go of his stiffy so that she could move her legs up the bed. When she was hovering over him she placed her arms by his shoulders ready to slide onto him when he stopped her. 
“Wait, condom?” He asked, kissing her nose. 
She shook her head. “Wanna feel you, s’that okay?”
He felt his cock twitch at that. “Yeah, I’m clean, trust you. Want that too.”
She smiled leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Her hand grabbed his dick and brought it up between her slick folds, collecting the wetness. She slowly slid down onto it and felt herself stretching for him, her two orgasms allowed more room for him to glide into her easily, but no matter how wet she was his cock was always going to stretch her out.
When she’d made it halfway she looked up at him, “Y'big, sorry,”
He just pushed some hair away from her face, kissing her jaw near her ear. “Take your time.”
Eventually, she made it hilt of him, sitting down on him softly. They both let out heavy sighs at the feeling, she felt so full of him. He was so deep, she could see the bulge of him in her tummy. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and his hands massaged her thighs softly. If not for their burning desire Harry could’ve stayed just like that for hours. His back against the wall, her resting against him, cock all warm inside her. It was perfect.
She eventually lifted her head up and smeared their lips together in a messy gentle kiss. Her arms wrapped around his back in an embrace as she began to lift herself up and then back down slowly. The stretch starting to burn in pleasure now, and the pain subsiding. He moaned into her mouth loudly as she started to pick up a rhythm of deep hard thrusts. The tip of him was hitting that spot that had her eyes rolling back into her skull as she started to find the rhythm that was right for them both. She was going slow yet hard and deep, it had her pussy clamping down against him which was sending him up the wall.
Her pussy was to die for, so tight, and perfect around his cock. Wet and warm. He wanted to bury himself in it all hours of the day. Her lazy bounces started to pick up as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. His hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her tightly as he began to pump his cock up meeting her bounces. He was moaning and grunting into her neck and tits at the feel of her tight pussy, he started kissing her all over.
It was a beautiful sight, his pretty girl's tits bouncing right in front of his face, and her moaning against his cock. He couldn't help but smile, a devilish one.
“Daddy, fuck,” She swore. She was getting close again. Her previous orgasms had her so sensitive to his touch.
One of his hands came forward and began to rub messy circles against her puffy clit. She let out a whine and shut her eyes bouncing as if her life depended on it, his other hand squeezed her ass kneading it roughly, as he thrust his cock up into her pussy.
“You’re Daddy’s good girl aren’t you?”
This made her let out a particularly loud whimper.
“What was that, Princess?”
She just let out another noise of pleasure.
His hand moved up to grip her chin so she’d look at him. “Say it, Y/n. Tell me.”
“I’m your good girl, H.”
He frowned. “H?”
Her hips were stuttering on his cock and the hard rubbing against her clit. “I’m your good girl, Daddy.”
He smirked. “Who’s little pussy does this belong to?”
God, he was filthy. She fucking loved it. It’s what she’d imagined him to be liked. Raw, rough, filthy, dominant, and possessive.
She cried out as his thrusts began to speed up. She was dizzy with it all, struggling to speak.
Her voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yours,”
“What’s mine, Y/n?”
“My pussy, it’s yours. I'm yours.”
He smirked. “Good girl, sucha' good fucking girl.”
His thrusts caused her entire body to jolt forward, as her nails scratched down his arms and she began to scream at the pleasure. 
“That’s it, take Daddy’s cock,”
She gripped his arms for dear life, “Gunna’ come again. Ah, mm, fuck.”
He didn’t stop for a second and it was only a few thrusts until she was squirted all over his cock and shaking wildly. He could tell he’d fucked her hard because she was practically limp on top of him when her orgasm subsided, she was spent. Harry had ruined her. Three orgasms, three mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know if she could handle another.
He kissed her lips. “Good job, sweet girl.”
She smiled dazedly. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Want me ta’ take care of ya’ now.” His voice hadn't gotten even slower, slurring from the absolute raw fuck he was having.
She nodded and he helped her off him. She fell back onto her bed, back amongst the mess that was her sheets. Her hair lay above her like a crown and he kissed her lips softly, enjoying this gentle side to her. It seems the more she came the softer she got, more clingy, handsy. He fucking loved it. He was sure his shoulders were covered in scratches from her, and his hair had been tugged about by her. He probably looked just as fucked out as her.
She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at him fluttering her lashes. Sexiest little thing ever, a total minx. “Want you.” She whispered. She wanted him to cum, fill her up. She'd been thinking about for years, especially lately.
He grabbed her legs spreading them far apart so he could slot in between her. He was sitting up on his knees all tall above her. Her tummy curled in anticipation and desire, he was so fucking hot. His gorgeous veiny hands touched her and those ring-covered fingers of his gripping into her flesh hard. His swirls of ink were still visible under the moonlight. 
He was a sight. A pure filthy sight she wanted to hold onto in her mind forever.
“Want to fill you up, Princess.” He replied. His cock was begging for his orgasm, he’d managed to last through one of her orgasms pulsing against him, but he knew the next one would push him over the edge. He slowly slipped inside of her, and her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them hard.
He started thrusting roughly without much warning, causing her bed to shift and creak under the weight of them both. She moaned loudly, “Oh, fuck,”
With each thrust her body jolted into the bed, as she tried to find a way to control her squirming body.
He let out a hiss as his balls slapped against her ass. “Feel so good around me, sweet girl. Fuckin' perfect. Made for this cock.”
She pulled him closer so that her chest was pressed into his. His face slipped into the side of her neck and shoulder and gently kissed along there. One of her arms wrapped around his back and the other found his hand, he held hers tightly. He continued fucking into her deep, it felt so good it hurt and her hips jutted to meet his.
“‘Wanna cum, Daddy, can I?” She said softly, in a pleading tone that had his balls aching to fill her pussy up with his hot cum. He grunted pounding into her just that bit harder, this final bundle of energy he had was going toward making her finish.
She felt her tummy tightening familiarly with her orgasm. She knew that she couldn’t hold onto it much longer.
“Cum f’me please, Y/n.” He whimpered, “Be a good girl and let me feel you cum on m’cock.”
His hand held hers tightly, and this romantic intimate side of him was all too much for her, this was somehow hotter than his rough side. She loved to see him like this.
She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed as she finished. It was all teeth and tongue, noses brushing into each other, and she cried out into his mouth. He nibbled her lip and felt her clamping against him rapidly.
When he pulled back from the kiss they were breathless, each thrust had her practically crying out.
“Gonna make me cum, Y/n,” He whispered. “Where do you want me cum?”
She wrapped her legs around his hips. “Inside me, please, Daddy.”
When he made eye contact with her that’s when he finally orgasmed. The thrusts of his hips grew sloppy with pleasure as he let out a loud moan of her name and some curses. She was scratching his arm and back softly letting him fuck her full of his cum as his pleasure subsided. He didn’t move out of her, just landed on top of her. His head resting right above her fast-beating heart. He was fucking spent.
She stroked his hair feeling nice and full of him. She could feel his cum inside her, dripping out onto his cock. He was warm and big to cuddle she loved it. He lifted his head up when he caught his breath, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks which made her giggle, then finally her lips.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.
“Oh, shut up Styles, I already let you fuck me, no need to butter me up now.” She teased.
He rolled his eyes, still inside her, still holding her hand. “You’ve always been beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.”
Her face turned soft, cheeks blooming in a soft dusty rose. “You’re beautiful too.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Eventually, he pulled out of her, she felt empty and whined at the feeling. She was so sensitive now. She honestly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed inside her for the rest of the night.
She shut her eyes and as he sat back, he watched his cum drip out of her. It made his tummy flutter. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking this far ahead considering Y/n and him weren’t even dating. But if she got pregnant with his baby, that would be the cutest thing in the world. He cut those thoughts from his mind and stood up. 
“Gonna clean y’up.” He said, walking to her bathroom. He found a cloth in there and wet it with some warm water walking over to the bed. 
She opened her eyes which had turned bleary with sleepiness. She smiled tiredly over at him. He smiled back, grabbing her legs and spreading them so he could wipe her down. She whined at the touch of the cloth.
“Sorry, Baby.”
She let out another soft wince. “S’okay, worth it.”
As he stared down at her he noticed how sweaty she looked. “Wanna shower? I’ll help you. We probably should after all that rain and other stuff.”
She nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. “Okay, just don’t let me fall asleep and drown in there.”
He laughed. “Course not.”
He helped her up to a sitting position and she looked up at him sluggishly. “Really got me sore, H.”
He frowned. “Sorry, Angel.”
She teasingly sharpened her gaze, “You aren’t sorry, you filthy boy.”
He smirked. “‘M not sorry for taking what’s mine, I am sorry you’ll be sore tomorrow.”
She rolled her eyes. “You will be sorry when I keep complaining.”
"I'll massage you, don't worry."
He picked her up startling her, she always knew he was strong but never expected him to pick her up with such ease, and if she wasn’t totally spent she’d want to test what also he could do with those big muscles. Throw her around maybe? Fuck her standing up? She’d make a note to herself to try that later.
His hands were under bum and as he walked to the bathroom, the shower was surprisingly big and had a tiny little shelve that came out which had all her soaps and shampoos, but there was enough room for her to sit on it.
He turned the water on warm and placed her onto the sink bench. She watched him under the pale light of the bathroom. How was this the same Harry from before?
This was a soft kind man, a gentleman, hardly a frat boy dick. She didn't know where'd he been hiding this side of him. But she liked him just as much as he did the rotten-mouthed boy she knew.
In the shower he took care of her as promised, washing her hair with the lavender-scented shampoo she owned. He used some too, and he helped wash her skin with this fresh-smelling shower oil she had. Softly cleaning her sore parts and he massaged her body with such a gentleness that she melted right into his hands.
She’d never expected Harry to be one to stay and cuddle after, let alone help shower. He was so nurturing to her. It made her feelings bloom and spread through her body like wildflowers.
When they were both clean Harry even helped her dry her hair, and change into some comfy clothes. While she was brushing her teeth and putting some skincare on he fixed up her sheets and tucked himself into them. He'd put his rings in the little dish she had on her bedside table. Checking his phone to see it was late. They'd been going for a while.
When she came out in a baggy shirt that Harry had worn last time he was here, it still smelt of him, and some little black knickers he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked especially good in his clothes.
“C’mere.” He opened the duvet and she slid in beside him tiredly. He pulled her close, right in the crook of his chest, he’d decided to wear nothing to bed. Which bothered neither of them. He ran hot, especially with Y/n snuggling right up against him.
Her window was open letting the heavy downpour of thunder and rain become background noise as they fell asleep. He kissed her temple, rubbing her back underneath his shirt.
“Night, Beautiful.”
She shut her eyes kissing one of the swallows on his chest. “Night, Styles.”
Sleep found them both quickly and Harry held onto her the whole night. He was completely smitten with her, the one girl he couldn’t have was the only one he wanted. Fuck. They were so screwed.
PART THREE???????
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leilanihours · 4 months ago
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34🗝️ with paige
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# I CAN SEE YOU'RE LONELY DOWN THERE, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT I AM RIGHT HERE?
pairing: paige bueckers x best friend!reader
word count: 715
warnings: slight angst? maybe?
prompt: "will you stay the night?"
⭑ from lani: paige is such a shy cutie in this (a bold contrast to how i write her in smuts but here we go 😝)
celly masterlist !
main masterlist !
THE WHOLE TEAM was down in the dumps. they barely spoke to anyone, and if they did it was only because they had to.
you had never seen the team so devastated before. they were always high-spirited, positive, and cheerful. but right now, they were the exact opposite.
being an intern on the coaching staff, you had tried your best to speak with all of the girls, see where their heads are at, and what you can do to help ease the pain.
but at the end of the day, you didn't want to overstep and push them to a place they weren't ready to be at, so after a couple days you eased up on them. gave them space.
they all seemed to be doing better as the days went on, especially nika and aaliyah who were preparing to go to the wnba draft. but there was one person who still struggled to even come out of their room: paige.
ever since you decided to give the team their space, you distanced yourself from everyone, including the blonde.
and you thought that's what they wanted, what paige wanted, but when she called you in the middle of the night, it was clear that she wanted something different.
"paige?" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you sat up in bed, "what's up? are you okay?"
"um," she starts quietly, "i'm sorry for waking you up but uh...could you come over real quick?"
"yeah sure," you say with furrowed eyebrows, "i'll be there in five."
"thank you, y/n."
it sounded so sincere that it concerned you. your mind begins racing, coming up with the worst possible situations. but as you take the elevator up to paige's floor, you try to calm your nerves and put up a calm front for the girl.
after shooting a text to paige announcing that you were at her door, not ten seconds later she was taking your hand and gently pulling you into her dim-lit bedroom.
"is something wrong, paige? it's almost three in the morning," you ask softly, not wanting to seem annoyed that she woke you up. because the truth is that you would run miles to get to her if she asked you to.
"uh, kinda?" she says, not meeting your eyes as she sits down at the foot of her bed, "what have you been up to this past week?"
you pause for a second but decide not to question it as you answer, "i mean, nothing much. just a little bit of finishing final assignments and helping the coaches with schedules for summer...why?"
there's a beat of silence.
"i missed you," she whispers inaudibly.
"what was that?" you ask, taking a step closer to her.
she runs a hand through her blonde hair, "i missed you," she repeats slightly louder. this time you hear it clear as day.
"oh," you whisper, taking a seat next to her, "well i'm right here."
"i'm glad you are," she mutters as she rests her head on your shoulder, her hands drifting to your torso as she plays with the hem of your shirt.
"did you wanna talk about something?"
"not really, not right now," she replies, "just wanna hold you."
you're taken aback by her answer, not expecting for her to say something so intimate. but you weren't complaining..
"okay, sure," you nod, "just let me know when you want me to go back to my dorm, yeah?"
"actually, could you, uh..." she pauses as if she's nervous, "could you stay the night?"
now it's your turn to pause. your best friend, the girl you've developed feelings for, is asking you to sleepover. you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach.
"of course, paige," you agree after a minute.
"you're not gonna leave before i wake up, right?" she mumbles into your shirt.
"no, i won't, i promise," you say, placing a kiss on her head, "i'll be here."
and for the rest of the night, paige was snuggled into your embrace as you two slept tangled under the covers. it was comforting, safe, secure. it was something you wish you could experience for the rest of your life.
but, of course, it would only be so healing if you experienced it with paige.
— leilani signing off ! 📁
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ifancyharry · 1 year ago
Text
what it is: YN is Harry’s personal assistant and she gets sick, but he’s playing Wembley
word count: 4k
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The air is crisp and clean as YN steps out of her hotel into the streets of London, hurrying down the sidewalk as she scurries to the first pharmacy she can find. 
It’s 7.54 in the morning and she’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours. Not on purpose, obviously. And not on her boss’s orders either, despite having there been nights the team deemed important and she was required to pull an all nighter, but those were usually times of celebrations, either spent at an afterparty or waiting until midnight for Spotify to release the album everyone had been working hard on.
The air hurts her lungs as she stops to catch her breathing, the pounding behind her temples not dimming the slightest as she trespasses the sliding doors of the pharmacy, only intensifying with the bright artificial lights shining down on her from the ceiling.
She pulls her sunglasses out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and slides them over her eyes, relishing in the temporary relief washing over her sensitive eyes.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she pulls it out, grimacing at the name on the screen; it’s her boss, Harry, asking her what time she’s ready to leave for the venue. 
Once her turn comes, she quickly explains her symptoms to the pharmacist and just as quickly she pays for the medicine the pharmacist has taken out for her.
She walks out of the pharmacy and types back a short response to Harry, telling him she’s on her way to his room.
She hopes the medicine she has stuffed in her pocket will make her feel better, and she thinks as she’s making her way back to the hotel that she’ll ask Harry to stop along the way to grab a coffee, hoping it will soothe the tension behind her temples. There’s no way she can be sick when her boss is playing at Wembley for the first time.
Harry isn’t one to comment on other people’s appearances, his mum taught him that and it has stuck with him since he was a little kid, a sort of an unspoken rule out of kindness, and therefore he’s never asked if someone was sick because they weren’t wearing makeup or if someone had eaten a little more over the holidays.  He never considered other people’s looks something that concerned his range of business, but once he sees YN, he can’t help but wonder if she’s okay.
Her hair is tied in a messy braid, and there’s some strands falling out of it and in front of her eyes. She’s wearing a big love on tour sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, but that isn’t particularly concerning, because he’s used to her comfy articles of clothing. 
What’s concerning is her face… and Harry already feels bad for thinking that, but she doesn’t look like herself. And Harry would know. Of course he would know, because he spends a lot of time looking at her face, especially when she’s not looking, most of the times when she’s reading a book next to him in a moment of rest or when she’s answering emails on Monday mornings. So… he knows her. He knows her skin looks paler than normal, and the circles under her eyes aren’t the same as that one time they partied all night after Harry won album of the year at the Grammys.
He wants to ask if she’s okay, because after a year of working together they have that kind of confidence, but he doesn’t want that to be the first thing he says to her, so he just smiles at her and welcomes her with a side hug and a good morning.
“Hi” she’s quick to greet back, and Harry notices even her voice sounds scruffier than usual.
“Are you ready to go?” She asks a second later.
“Yeah, yeah, the car’s down already?” He asks surprised. Sometimes it takes a while before the drivers find the hotel, and YN and Harry spend that time watching videos on youtube or talking about the day’s schedule.
YN shrugs but doesn’t say anything in response, which is weird to Harry because she’s usually really bright and energetic in the morning, and she’s really meticulous on top of everything: she never lets him wait without finding something to pass the time first.
“Let’s just stay until we don’t know for certain” he suggests.
She agrees with a nod of her head and she heads to his bed, sitting down on the end of it. It’s not uncommon for her, because she’s always in his space, and there have been times where they were forced to basically sleep in the same bed (one time YN fell asleep on his bed, and Harry was so in his song-writing-bubble he didn’t even realize until he was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open, so he slipped in next to her and literally passed out).
He still needs to tie his shoes, so he sits next to her and ties the laces of his ratted vans.
“How’d yeh sleep, pet?” He asks, because she’s freakishly quiet and it’s making him anxious. She’s never quiet, and with this being a stressful day already for Harry, every little thing that’s different from normal alerts him.
“Fine” she whispers, knuckling at her eyes, his question bringing back the awful memory of the night she spent tossing and turning in the scratchy hotel sheets, praying for a moment of solace every time she tried to breathe through her nose and failing.
“Me too…” he nods.
YN feels bad because she should be more engaging, but she really doesn’t have it in her to make small talk. 
Some time passes before the driver calls YN’s phone to tell her the van is here, shaking her awake. She remembers closing her eyes to rest them, and next thing she knows she’s sound asleep on her boss’s bed. She’d be a bit embarrassed if it wasn’t for how awful she feels already. 
“Crap! I fell asleep!” She exclaims once she hangs up the call. 
“Yeah” Harry says from next to her, still laying on his bed, “just fo’ like… fifteen minutes though” He’s playing on his phone, and YN pushes at his bicep, “we need to go, driver’s here”
She gets up from the bed and slips on her shoes, grabbing her work bag (it’s really a tote bag but she finds calling it work bag makes her waaaay more professional) from the floor next to the door.
“YN” she hears Harry clear his voice, and she turns around to look at him.
He’s still sitting on the bed, and he passes a hand through his hair before saying, “are yeh all right?” 
She closes her eyes in a furrow and tries not to wince when a sharp pain shoots behind her eyes with the movement, “yes, yes” she stresses, although not convinced.
“Are you sure? C’mon yeh can tell me!” 
“I’m fine, Harry” and despite her words, she sniffles, “maybe I have a cold or something…”
“You can take the day off if you need to, yeh know that” 
“No, there’s no way” she shakes her head swiftly, “no”. 
“YN…” he trails off.
“Harry, I told you I’m fine. I can work! Let’s just go, okay?” 
He sighs but does as she says, following her out of his room.
Harry isn’t a worrier. If someone from his team, or band whatsoever, says they can work, he at least presumes they’re mature enough to know the expanse of their limits. 
With YN, it’s different. He worries.
Not because he considers her immature, but she’s just… different. Ever since she started working for him as his assistant, he’s always looked out for her, despite being the one that didn’t want to hire her in the first place.
She’s young, she works a lot to prove herself to him, despite him telling her lots of times she doesn’t need to prove anything and she’s doing a great job as she is. 
She does unthinkable working hours, sometimes pulling all nighters, other times hurrying to his house in the middle of the night because he’s a little bit of a hypochondriac and she needs to check immediately what’s that new mole he has on his back (turns out it was a speck of dark chocolate that stuck onto his skin).
She’s soft and she always puts her job (him, actually) first, so he doesn’t really trust her to know her limits. If she’s sick she should rest. She should lay in bed and maybe eat a little soup and watch comfort movies tucked under the sheets, but he knows she won’t. And he knows he’s the reason behind that, because he’s playing at Wembley tonight, and she doesn’t want to cause trouble. Harry thinks she in no way could ever be described as trouble. 
And maybe, and he feels a little bit scared to admit this, he could postpone the show just by a couple hours, at least until he knows she’s resting at the hotel. but, she hurries into the van and pretends like she’s just got “a cold or something”, so Harry doesn’t question her further. 
He could just order her to take the day off, but he knows that would hurt her feelings, and he can imagine the look on her face, like a puppy being scolded, so he bites his tongue: there’s no way he could ever hurt her feelings.
YN has to stop a couple of times when she starts feeling dizzy on her feet. She shouldn’t run this much when she’s probably feverish, but there’s so much to do! She doesn’t trust to delegate, and not because she’s pretentious, but because she’s a control freak that needs to know how things are being handled, so she would only get much more frustrated and it would eventually just end up in her doing all the work anyway, increasing her fever undoubtedly. 
So, she chugs downs a lot of water and a lot of ibuprofen, taking deep breaths every time she starts feeling nauseous. She should probably inform Harry at least that she doesn’t feel good, so if anything were to happen he wouldn’t be too surprised, but she knows how he is; he would demand she stop immediately and go back to the hotel to rest, and she can’t allow that to happen. 
Wembley is the dream of a lifetime, and Harry sound checks every song two times before passing on to the next one. YN sits quietly in one of the seats, preparing Harry’s next instagram post on her phone. She handles all of his socials, because that’s what she was originally hired for. “A young set of eyes”, Jeff had defined her, and from then, her life had changed completely. 
Of course, she wasn’t aware she’d develop a crush on her boss at the time she was hired. She figured she’d be immune to his charm; she’s younger than him, much less experienced (in every aspect of her life), and hasn’t really seen anything yet, so she thought they’d just be too different to get along. Spending each second of the day together didn’t help, though, because it was then she got to know Harry for who he truly was, and with that, came the awareness of how many things he’d lived through and how many things he could teach her. How soft he was with her, how he would always drape a blanket over her when she accidentally fell asleep on his bed, and how he would tell her she looked pretty even after pulling an all nighter and probably looking like a raccoon. That’s just how he was.
And that’s why she values his dreams more than her health. She would never do anything that could harm him, so she shrugs off the dreadful feeling off her back and keeps working. 
“Hey” Harry plops down on the couch next to her, draping his arm on the backrest of the couch. If he’d stretched his fingers he could touch her shoulder, but he doesn’t just yet. He knows she still doesn’t feel good, he can see it in the way she’s hugging herself in the Love on tour hoodie she has on (probably one of his because their laundry always gets mixed up).
“Hi” she says softly, her voice much lower than it’d been the last time he saw her.
It’s closer to show time now, but he’s still not in his outfit. YN wonders if that’s the reason why he came in the dressing room in the first place.
“What are yeh doin’ hidin’ in here all alone?” 
“‘m not hiding!” She pouts, “jus’… resting” 
“Mh, yeah?” He hums, turning his head to look at her, “restin’ your ears? Are you tired of my music yet?” He jokes.
“Never!” She beams, swatting at his chest playfully.
He lets his arm fall down on her shoulder, and he tugs at her, squeezing her against his chest.
She breaths him in, and despite her stuffy nose, she can smell the faint scent of his fabric softener. Musk and lavender. It’s the same as hers.
 “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a pain lately…” he trails off, his mouth buried in her hair, “nothing to do with you… was jus’ nervous is all”
She squeezes his hoodie between her fingers to tug him closer, “I’m really proud of you. You’ll do great.”
“Thanks, pet” he grins, breaking away from the hug.
She sniffles and he looks between her eyes warily, “’s there anything you want to tell me before I go on stage?”
“Jus’ to kick ass” she giggles, aware that wasn’t what he was alluding at.
“Mmmh” he muses, getting up from the couch. He knew she’d be stubborn about this so he doesn’t pressure her.
“Hav’to start gettin’ ready” he clears his throat, heading towards the portable hanger YN set up in his dressing room.
He then proceeds to take off his hoodie and his tank top, leaving him shirtless before her.
She’s seen him in his underwear many times, but maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the crush on him that’s growing stronger everyday, but she feels her insides get warm at the sight. 
He tugs his sweats down his legs too, kicking them off his feet, and YN pretends to pick up her phone to respond to a message that definitely could have waited. 
He picks up the heart printed overalls he’d be wearing and tugs them over his legs, jumping a little in his place so they could fit over his bum.
Once he’s fully dressed, he looks over at YN and finds her looking at him already, her eyes a little droopy. He feels his heart tug in his chest at the sight. He wishes she’d let him help her. If he could he’d send her back to the hotel straight away, but he has to admit he’s selfishly relishing in the idea of having her here, looking at him perform. It makes him want to do even better than he always does. 
“All ready then” he smiles, dimples denting both his cheeks.
“Mmhh” she hums, getting up on her feet. She walks towards him and adjusts the neck of his shirt, petting it down.
“Good luck Harry” she smiles. He has to refrain himself from lowering his head down to kiss her, and he’s aware these thoughts are way too unprofessional of him, but he can’t help himself. Not when she’s looking at him like that.
“See ya after the show, pet”
“Harry!” Jeff pats down on his shoulders as soon as Harry runs backstage, “you just smashed it! Fuckin’ smashed it mate!”
Harry laughs with him out of politeness, but his mind is really on something else.
“Fuckin’ Wembley, Harry! Wembley’s Harry’s house!” Someone else shouts, and he thinks it’s Lloyd but he doesn’t really pay much attention to him. There’s someone missing from the crowd. YN. She’s nowhere to be found, and he’d really like to celebrate with her. She’s the one that should join in on the fun and get a little bit of praise too, because without her, harry doesn’t think he could’ve played Wembley.
Everything was going fine, and he saw her next to his mother standing in the private part of the pit, but then, when he came back after chatting with a couple of fans, she was gone. He wonders if she’s okay.
“Hey, Jeff” he clears his throat, hoping to be discreet with his tone of voice, “where’s YN?” 
“Oh…” he nods, “she wasn’t feeling proper good, so I sent her to your dressing room. I told her to get back to the hotel, but she refused to leave”
Harry nods and after a ‘thanks’ he hurries towards his dressing room, hoping to find her there.
Once he opens the door, the sight of YN sleeping on the couch crouched on herself makes his heart somersault in his chest.
“Hey, pet” he coos softly once he crouches down next to her.
He repeats the endearing greeting, and this time she stirs awake. YN brings one hand to knuckle at her eyes tiredly, and Harry frowns at the sight of her bloodshot eyes. He brings one hand to caress her cheek, but when he realizes how warm she is, he brings it up to her forehead. She’s burning hot. 
He immediately feels guilty. He should’ve sent her back to the hotel as soon as he realized she was sick, hell, he shouldn’t have let her leave his room that morning!
“Harry?” She asks timidly, her voice coming out scruffy. She gulps but flinches as the hurt in her throat doesn’t subside. 
“Yeah, ’s me” he whispers, moving the hair away from her face, “let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” 
“No Harry! The show! You can’t leave… the show! It’s wembley” she stresses, gripping his bicep tightly to refrain him from leaving her.
“Shh, shh” he shushes her, “calm down. ’s okay. The show was great. Everything was great” he coos, pressing his lips down her forehead and flinching from how hot it feels, “you did so great”.
She sniffles and: “great?” 
“Yeah” he nods, reassuring her, “let’s go now, okay?”
He helps her get up on her feet, and she stumbles a bit in her place. She grips the fabric of his overalls tightly between her fingers, and he lets her, hoping to be at least a little bit of comfort.
“How are you feelin’? What hurts?” He asks her once they reach his hotel room (he wanted to go back to hers, but couldn’t find her key and didn’t want to startle her too much).
“Everything” she pouts.
“I’m so sorry, darling” he sighs, ushering her inside his room.
She’s stable on her feet now, the little nap at the venue kind of helped a bit in soothing her, but still, everything hurts, and the thought of being in a hotel room and not at her own house bothers her.
She also doesn’t want Harry to look at her like this, all sweaty and red in the cheeks. She must look so embarrassing! 
“I’ll draw you a bath, how about that?” He proposes, not waiting for her response and heading directly towards the bathroom.
Now that he thinks about it, harry’s glad she’s in his room, because (being the Harry Styles) his room has a bathtub, whereas hers doesn’t. He also has lots of salt baths and bubbles to add to the water, courtesy of the hotel, and he adds everything he can to soothe her stuffed nose and make the bath as pleasing as possible.
She knocks on the door delicately, and he turns his head to look at her.
“Bath’s ready” he smiles gently, and he dips his index finger to test the temperature of the water, careful not to make it too hot to not aggravate her fever any more. 
Harry excuses himself from the bathroom, and tells her to give him a shout if she needs anything.
It’s a couple of minutes later when he hears her calling for him, her voice still lower than normal.
He knocks on the door and after he gets her consent he opens it, peeking his head inside. She’s laying in the bathtub, the water submerging her almost to her neck, and he’s aware she’s naked under, but the bubbles cover her body entirely.
“Are yeh all right?” He asks worriedly.
“Mhmh,” she hums, “jus… keep me company?” 
He’s happy she’s more responsive now, and he happily sits at her side, plopping down on the toilet seat next to the tub.
They sit in silence for a while, Harry’s aware he’s still in his fancy (and uncomfortable) show clothes, but he doesn’t care. He’s just happy to dote on her now as she’s been doing with him since she’s been hired.
“I can’t believe you played at wembley and I missed half of it” she says after a while, the water sloshing around her as she turns to look at him.
“There’s always next time” he grins at her playfully.
She throws a smile at him, “bet”.
His mouth opens in a sideway smile, his dimple indenting only one of his cheeks, and more seriously than he did before, he says “I wish you’d told me you weren’t feelin’ good”
“Didn’t want to spoil your day” she shrugs.
He wants to tell her she wouldn’t have spoiled it, that if she’d asked he would’ve postponed his show and crawled in bed with her, cuddling her until she felt better, even with the risk of getting himself sick too, he didn’t care. He would have done anything to make her feel good; but how can he tell her? How can he be honest about something like that without revealing another part of himself to her? He’s her boss. He’s older than her. And he doesn’t know if she feels the same way.
So, instead of making a complete fool out of himself, he ushers her out of the tub, passing her a towel without looking at her. He engulfs her in the bathrobe and ties it tight on her stomach, careful to have her bits covered completely by the fabric of the towel.
When he reaches his room, he takes out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for her to sleep in, and he leave her to change in the bathroom.
While he waits for her to come out, he texts his mum if she could make that delicious soup she always prepared when he was sick, promising he wasn’t sick himself and that he’d explain in the morning. His mum answers a couple of minutes later with a thumbs up and a kissy face. 
He locks his phone and plugs it in the charger next to the bed, leaving it on the bedside table.
When YN comes out of the bathroom, she looks better already. Her cheeks aren’t as red and her eyes appear to be more rested, but, she still looks tired, and he smiles at her as he tugs the comforter down for her to slip in.
She curls up under the covers and waits for Harry to tuck her in, “comfortable?” He asks.
She nods with her cheek against the pillow, “just wish I was home” she whispers and the affirmation pains him.
“I’ve been overworking yah, haven’t I?” He sighs deeply, feeling extremely guilty. 
She’s quick to shake her head no, flinching when a sting of pain hits her temples with the movement. 
“Yes I have… you’ve been s’good” he smiles down at her.
“You’re a Wembley player now” she whispers, her eyes closing on her as she speaks, and Harry chuckles endeared at her. 
“Get some rest” he coos, but she’s already fallen in a deep sleep that will probably be tainted with a curly headed guy with green eyes and a pretty smile.
He fishes from inside her bag a tab of ibuprofen and, with a glass of water, he places them on the bedside table closer to her side, so, if she’d ever were to wake up in pain, she could take the medicine immediately. 
He takes the shortest shower he’s ever taken, quickly putting on his pajamas and brushing his teeth. Once he’s ready for bed, he slips in next to her, leaning down to press his lips on her forehead to check her temperature. She’s still warm, but the bath seemed to be of help, and probably the much needed sleep, too.
He thinks he’ll give her the rest of the month off. He owes it to her, so she can get back up on her feet and spend some time at home if she’d like. He takes a minute to wonder why hasn’t he ever given her more than a day of rest, and he doesn’t have to wonder too much, because he knows the answer already, one that is overbearing and too deep to even analyze after the day he’s had: he doesn’t want to be away from her that much time. It’s as simple as that. He’s fucked.
Read part 1 to their story here
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luizd3ad · 7 months ago
Text
NFWMB | Barty Crouch Jr x Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN! reader
WC: 180
CW: angry Barty, Talks of Bullying, Barty being protective, so slight angst, no use of Y/N
Authors Note: Just a little blurb for an idea I got while listening to hozier. I've just been having Barty brain rot lately.
Summary: Someone made you cry and Barty isn’t having it.
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⊱ ─────── ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰
“Who did it?”
You look up at a furious looking Barty Crouch jr, with your tear stained face you shake your head lightly.
“Leave it alone Barty.. Please” You say letting out a sigh and looking down at your hands.
“Angel. I’m only going to ask one more time before I burn this whole bloody school down.”
Barty says crouching down in front of you to make you look him in the eyes.
“Who did this? Who made my angel cry?”
Barty says tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and looking more serious than you think you’ve ever seen him be before, it was actually quite unnerving if you're being honest.
“Mulciber and Avery.. They were calling me names and just being cruel..”
Barty nods his head slowly and stands up and kisses the top of your head.
“I'll be back, angel.”
“Barty please don't do anything, just leave it be.”
“Can’t.” 
Barty says walking to the door of your dorm and he looks at you one more time before leaving, saying.
“Nothing Fucks with my baby.”
⊱ ────── ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ─────── ⊰
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a-strange-familiar · 5 months ago
Note
an angsty idea: f! Reader flinches during a steamy (not THAT kind of steamy) argument (bonus points for subspace) ends in fluff maybe idk, <33 ur work is *chefs kiss* ily ♥︎♡
Awww. ily too. Hope you enjoy, lovie 💗 and sooo sorry for the late <333
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A/n : I got this request little over a year back and I wrote half of this and completely forgot. I got a random motivation to write this now. I really hope the anon who requested it will have a chance to read it. ♡
And also I reached a milestone (not a VERY big one, but its special to me) on my followers, thank you for all your love and support ❤️
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It's been more than three weeks since Y/n and Harry spent some quality time together. Harry was really busy with work and Y/n understood that and focused on her university work.
But it's actually bugging her. She can't lie saying that she is not feeling insecure. He is a very handsome man. Beautiful, sweet, respectful and understanding. And Y/n also know for a fact that there are many women out there trying to get in his pants or his life. But she know him, he would never do that to her. But she can't help but worry about it though.
So she kept herself busy with school and work both but she miss Harry, so thought about talking to him and having dinner together.
Today especially she had a worst day, not completely worst but worst day of the month. From the moment she woke she felt off. Something is not good and she had a terrible headache but still she went to college and later to work.
But in college she got a bad grade in a test which led up to her professor calling her to his office and giving her an earful. It's her mistake for not preparing properly for the test. And later she had to face a rude costumer at her work, and her whole mood got even worse.
By the time she came home she was feeling very low and sad. All she wanted was to cry her heart out and have some snuggles from Harry. She misses him soo much, they are living in the same house but lately doesn't feel like that.
She opened the door and stepped inside to find the lights are on, she thanked the heavens that Harry is home early. She just want to see him and kiss him.
She is feeling soo subby, not in a sexual way. She wants to be taken care of and loved. She wants Harry to hug and kiss her tears away. She just wants to be near him.
She went inside and figured that Harry is indeed home and in his office. As every step she takes she hear his voice taking in phone with someone and he is clearly stressed and angry.
She went near the door and contemplated about knocking the door or directly opening it. She decided to knock first, she faintly knocked and the talking stopped for a second and continued.
She waited for a couple seconds and slowly opened the door.
There he is, sitting in his office with his phone in one hand and eyes on the laptop infront him with his brows furrowed and visible tension and tiredness his face.
Y/n sticked her head inside the room without entering completely and called his name.
He looked at her for second, and smiled. It's not his smile. It's not a smile at all. He just made his lip form a thin line and nodded his head to let her know that he acknowledged her presence.
She wanted to call his name again but she didn't. He is busy and that's visible, as much as she wants his attention she knows better that interrupting something important.
She turned back and went into their room. Maybe after a bit he will be able give her his attention.
She showered and wore one of Harry's t-shirt and did her night time skincare. And after a good one and half hour she decided to go to Harry and talk.
She knocked on his office again and but this time she heard a faint 'come in' .
"Hi baby" She said softly
"Hi , love." He said in return and looked at her for a second and got back to his work.
Y/n fidgeted with her fingers and thought of something to talk about.
But Harry broke the silence. " how was your day ? "
She felt relived that he asked about it and that she didn't have to start the topic.
"Um.... not very good actually." She said
He looked at her with his brows furrowed and asked "What happened, baby ?"
"Just not feeling good and didn't have a good day at uni and at work." She shrugged
"Ohh, I'm sorry, love."
"Harry do you think we can watch a movie and talk for a bit. I don't really feel good. I could use some cuddled and a kiss." She asked shyly.
"Um...... " he started .
"I'm sorry but I really can't right now ,baby. I have so much of work. I can give you a kiss though." He said and got right back into his work.
Y/n stood there without moving. She wanted to be understood, all she wanted was his attention and his closeness.
For weeks she has been an understanding girlfriend and gave him space and let him prioritize his work, but she had enough.
"Harry, it's been weeks since we spent some time and shared an actual conversation. I have been patient but I think you should be understanding to my needs too." She ranted all her thoughts inside her head.
He lifted his head for his laptop and looked at her with an unreadable expression.
She really wished to know what was going on in that head of his.
"I know. I'm sorry that I haven't given you any attention in weeks but I have work to do, Y/n. I can't abandon them and look after your needs." He said that last part in a very mocking way that made her wince internally.
She sighed and started "Harry, I think -"
"Y/n, I don't have time for your chit-chat. Can't you see I have work to do ?" He yelled at her with fuming expression on his face.
Y/n was caught of guard by the yelling, and flinched and her face colored with shock and fear.
She was never in an abusive relationship that made her react this way. But seeing Harry yell at her made her pretty sacred and also Harry can be pretty scary when he is angry.
By seeing her reaction Harry's eyes softened and regret was written all over his face.
He was about to open his mouth and get up from his chair when y/n took a step back and murmured a small 'sorry' and left the room in a hurry.
Harry's heart clenched seeing that expression on her face. He wanted nothing more than to take those words back. Seeing tears in her eyes was the last thing he wanted to witness. But he already made her cry.
~~~
Y/n rushed to their room with blurry vision and tears streaming down her face. She wiped her face and got onto the bed and buried her face in her soft feather like pillows.
She cried and let her heart feel the pain for few minutes before she stopped.
She wanted to go somewhere else and give Harry some space, but she can't just go to anyone's house in the middle of the night and crash. So she had no choice but to be in their house.
After few more minutes she heard a faint sound of their bedroom door opening but she didn't open her eyes or peered up at Harry to see what he is doing
He got on the bed beside her and ran his hand down her back slowly.
"I'm soo sorry, love " He whispered.
"I really, really am. Work is hectic and I was going through something at office and took it on you. Im sorry and I know I have been distant lately. It's absolutely my fault and nothing to do with you. Im just an arrogant son of a bitch."
He kissed her head let his lips linger for few moments.
His words sounded sincere and y/n also knew he really didn't mean to yell but it's still hurt her.
"Can you please look at me ,baby ?" He asked her in a pleading tone that she couldn't ignore.
She slowly turned towards him and looked at him, his eyes were sad and regret colored his face. She felt bad for a second.
"I'm sorry baby." He said again as he caressed her face gently with his finger.
"Can you please forgive me, my love ? " He asked her as he looked into her eyes with soo much love.
She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. No matter what happened it's really hard for her to be mad at him for long time.
He returned her smile and kissed her lips softy. "I'll make it up for you , baby. What do wanna do ? You still want to watch a movie?"
She shook her head. "No. I think I want to get some rest."
His smile faltered a bit and he felt disappointed but he gave her kiss and stoked her hair. "Whatever you want , my love"
"Can you can lay down with me for a bit if you are not busy ? " She asked in a soft voice still not wanting to come between him and his work.
His smile grew as he laid on the bed with her and opened his arms wide for her to hug him and cuddle.
Without wasting any time she went into his arms and snuggled with him.
He kissed her head and murmured "I love soo much, love. I will never ignore you again "
°•°○°•°°
A/n : please let me know if you like this and comment and send me asks and interact with me if you like it.
I have been very inactive on this app, but I'm back. Here is small something for you guys. Hope you like it.
As always lots of love. 💗
°•●°°•●°
Thanks for reading.
Hope you enjoyed.
Please like, comment and reblog of you like it.
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sweet-creature101 · 5 months ago
Text
Washing Machine Heart
Summary: You, a reserved student find yourself in the midst of an intense with Harry Styles, who happens to be your friend’s boyfriend. Your connection ignites into a consuming, high-stakes affair, each encounter fraught with desire and danger, pushing both of you to the brink as you wrestle with guilt and loyalty.
A forbidden affair; affair trope.
Warnings: mention of alcohol. LOTS OF ANGST.
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27th February 2014
4:08 p.m
The wind was cold today and so were you. The sun, hidden under a cloak of clouds, was nowhere to be seen. The streets of London never looked so desolate and dull. Even the usually vibrant Villon Street today looked as if it had been washed in grey and white. Your shoes clacked against the hard pavement, your focus directed at the wind and the cold that nicked at your face.
Over the years you developed a perception that you’re invisible, a shadow slinking in corners long forgotten. You look around, your ears blocking out the chatter and squeals of your friends; friends who would often disregard you when together, far too immersed in each other's stories of disastrous flings and affairs. But they were your friends, your friends to call, your friends to keep no matter how ignorant or oblivious they sometimes became.
“Y/N?” Sharon suddenly spoke out loud, drawing you out of your trance.
“Yeah?” You suddenly asked, your posture becoming straighter, your eyes becoming alert.
Sharon looked at you intently, her blue eyes scanning you up and down before sighing. “There’s a party tomorrow at, what 7?” Sharon asked Regina in the middle of her sentence.
Regina simply nodded while texting, her wispy brown hair wafting with every gust of wind. Sharon continued, “Yes, so there’s a party tomorrow at the frat house. Would you like to join? We’re all getting ready at my place.”
Sharon and you lived in the same apartment building. You were looking for the cheapest accommodation, a one-bedroom apartment off campus because living with absolute strangers was far too daunting for you. And that is how you met Sharon, whom your mother instantly loved owing to her extroverted demeanour.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled at the three girls.
“Great!” Tara exclaimed.
The four of you spent the next hour drinking coffee and discussing your outfits for the party; albeit you occasionally answered in full sentences, opting for curt words instead. As the clock struck seven in the evening, Tara and Regina decided to head back to campus while you and Sharon made your way to Greene Street, where your apartments were situated. “Come with me, I have to show you my new dress,” Sharon said before you got a chance to head to your apartment.
Sharon’s apartment was right next to yours but seemed a world apart. Her apartment was littered with stray clothes, makeup and syllabus books everywhere while yours sported an impressive collection of novels, journals and trinkets and the walls were painted with various constellations, flowers, sunsets or anything you wished to preserve.
You stepped over Sharon’s strewn clothes and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come out. Suddenly the doorbell rang and you were up in qualms, not knowing what to do.
“Sharon, someone's at the door.” You said, standing close to the bathroom door so that she could hear you clearly.
“Must be Harry, why don’t you open it? It’ll take me a while in here.” Sharon replied.
You stood for two seconds, mapping out your plan of action when the bell rang for the second time. “Coming!” You yelled.
You opened the door and there stood Harry Styles, Sharon’s five-month long boyfriend. A bouquet of roses held in his right hand, a silly smile etched on his face.
“You’re not Sharon.” Harry chuckled. His voice sounded radiant, his green eyes gleamed with amusement.
“You stand correct. She’s in the washroom,”
“Ah, well how are you?” Harry asked, being the gentleman he was taught to be.
“Careful or else I might think these flowers are for me.” You joked dryly.
Truth be told, initially, Harry had his sights set on you, the girl who always lingered beyond time in the library, who would laugh at jokes only once she saw everyone else was laughing around her. This is why he talked to Sharon, to make her help him talk to you but somewhere along the way lines got blurred and Harry got confused. Fatally confused. Confused enough that his lack of decisiveness led him to a relationship he never wanted to be in but nonetheless followed through for he had nothing better to do. And now as you opened the door, a small part of him hoped that the situation in front of him was not because of coincidence but because of will.
“Harry!” A squeal from behind took his focus away. He looked behind to see Sharon, in a tight red dress looking at him with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.
“Got these for you,” Harry said, walking in. He grabbed Sharon by the waist and gave her a kiss.
Harry did not notice when you left, but could only feel you leave. Like a silent wraith gliding from one world to the next.
28th February 2014
10:42 p.m
The music playing was absolutely deafening. The cup in your head seemed like a dead weight. You had a few beers, only to make conversations with all these people less turbulent. The short denim skirt you wore kept on riding up your thighs and the white tube top you wore seemed to stick to your skin. Tara had run off to somewhere with Regina and Sharon was far too immersed in making your drink.
“Don’t add too much vodka Shar,” you tell the girl, turning your focus towards the kitchen island littered with bottles of alcohol and empty cups.
“Of course, of course,” Sharon said, nodding, as she proceeded to empty the bottle of vodka in her hand in the two cups in front of her. “Now for the real question Y/N, coke or straight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Straight?” You opted for drinking it straight because you found the taste of vodka to be borderline unbearable, so you opted to take it as a shot. To get it over with rather than let the audacious taste linger on.
“Straight it is,” Sharon said, handing you your cup. “Oh, and I honestly don’t know how much I poured. Let my hand loose if you know what I mean.” The girl chuckled. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and drank the shot all at once. You did the same, cringing at the taste, feeling as if you were about to puke.
“Water!” Sharon immediately scrambled for a glass of water on seeing your expression. She handed the glass to you, her expression wary.
“All good.” You said as you kept the glass down.
“Hah great! I’m gonna go look for Harry now.”
“Oh yeah, have fun.” You said smiling at her, your speech a bit slurred.
You made your way to the back of the house and sat next to the pool. Your head started to spin, and a newfound sense of numbness settled over your bones. One that you found quite relaxing. You closed your eyes and hummed contently, the loud music and presence of people no longer bothering you as it was before.
“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice. You opened your eyes and saw Harry walk towards you.
“Hello, Harry!” You said enthusiastically, smiling as wide as you possibly could.
“You seem to be in a nice mood.” Harry chuckled at your behaviour.
“Come, sit next to me.” You gestured towards the space beside you. Harry took you up on your offer, sitting on the lounge chair next to you.
“You know, it took me two hours to straighten my hair. Not that it was difficult, but because I kept on asking myself if I really wanted to come here. Then there was this whole dilemma of not knowing what to wear. I wanted to wear my jeans but Tara said I can’t wear them because she’s wearing them, then I thought I could wear leather pants but Regina said she’s wearing hers so I can’t wear mine, although they don’t even remotely look the same. And what’s so bad about having similar outfits.” You huffed out. Harry looked at you with both surprise and awe because you had never talked more than ten seconds with him.
“Well, I for one think you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” Harry said, looking at you with sincere eyes.
“Really?” You asked him. The doubt in your eyes made Harry want to hug and hold you.
“Really. I don’t think there’s anyone as beautiful as you here Y/N.” Harry said.
He didn’t miss the way your gaze softened, your lips dropping into a small smile. You drew closer to him. He could feel your bare thighs touch his and it was as if his entire being had narrowed down to the parts where your skin touched his. He felt his heart skip a few beats when you kept your head on his shoulder and held his hand in yours.
Oh, how he wished to kiss you at that moment! He had to physically stop his hand from trailing up your neck, all the way to your face. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin and kiss every inch of it, slowly and gently. He wished he could stretch time to its fullest and preserve this moment in a photograph that he could stow away in his pocket.
“Sharon was looking for you. Sorry, I didn’t tell you earlier.” You whispered, half expecting him to get up and leave.
“It’s okay,” Harry replied quietly, his grip on your tightening as he pulled you in closer.
4th March 2014
11:16 p.m
The month of March is a month full of oddities and complexities. It seems to be a kind of cloth wherein the hem was left undone, leaving it to fray in any and every direction. You do not know what to expect until you step outside. The sunshine that seems to be warm from your window is truthfully cold, or the chilling wind blowing outside is actually warm. Needless to say, March is a month with its seam left undone.
And in that undone seam, in a mess of threads and needles is where you found yourself. A new set of feelings dawned on you. Feelings for Harry. You felt your heart skip a few beats every time you looked at him. But there was Sharon, his girlfriend and more importantly your friend. This constant tug of war between what you desire and what is morally incorrect tired you. You tucked away all your worries in the back of your head for tonight, your sole focus being the movie playing in front of you.
You get up from the couch in which you lay to fetch yourself a bag of crisps. While making your way to the kitchen, your doorbell rang. You were expecting no one, especially not at this time. A million scenarios rushed through your head, full of probable outcomes (albeit most of them ended up with you dead on your living room floor). The doorbell rang a second time now. You picked up your ornithology textbooks, two of them together hoping that the sheer width of them combined would help you knock out whoever it was outside.
You open the door, half ready to start swinging like hell when you see Harry. The top buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, showing his built chest and muscled arms. His broad shoulders seemed to block out your doorway.
He looked ravishing.
You mentally smacked yourself for thinking in such a way about a boy who happened to be in a relationship, that too with a girl who happened to be your friend. “What are you doing here Harry? Sharon’s apartment is the one on the right.” You said, envisioning that him ringing your doorbell was an honest mistake.
“I know.” He said, smiling at you. He leaned against your doorframe, towering over you. You crossed your arms and looked at him.
Harry did not miss the way you scanned him up and down, how your breath so subtly hitched when you saw his chest. He found the flimsy night suit you wore to be quite cute, if not tempting. A button-up half-sleeved satin shirt with red hearts all over it and a pair of dangerously short shorts to accompany it.
“What’re you watching?” Harry said, walking in and sitting on your sofa. “Rio, huh? Good choice I’d say.” He said, smiling at you, stretching his body.
“Make yourself right at home will ya?” You muttered under your breath. “Why are you here though?” You asked him as you settled down next to him.
“Do you mind my company? Although I don’t think so.”
“Is there something you want from me? If so, just ask me so that we can stop with the small talk bullshit.” You firmly said.
“Yes actually, I do want something,” Harry said turning to look at you.
“Which is?”
“To spend time with you.”
“What?”
“I just told you what I want, kitten,” Harry said. You were grateful for the low lighting in your living room that hid the blush creeping on your face.
“You’re drunk Harry.” You reprimanded him. He only smiled at you, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just a bit tipsy Y/N.”
“Hmm. Okay, what do you want to watch then?” You ask, turning your focus away.
“Rio’s good.” He said.
“Okay.”
You resume the movie and lean back. Harry watched you intently. He noted every moment of yours, the way your chest would rise and freeze when something would happen in the movie, the way your lips would morph into a smile and your eyes fill with wonder.
Harry slowly started to inch towards you, careful not to make too much noise. He tried to be as subtle as he could, stretching and spreading his legs simply to touch yours. He could see you relax as well, your upright posture now dissolving into a lazy spread. Slowly, inch by inch Harry moved towards you as if you were a magnet pulling him in your direction.
He put his arm behind you. His thighs touched yours and from the corner of his eye, he could see you in freeze. He smirked and continued to move closer.
The warmth radiating from Harry was more welcoming than you were willing to admit. A million questions raced through your head, ‘is this right?’, ‘This is wrong,’ ‘he has a girlfriend’ and most importantly, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way.’ However, in all reality, you were caught up in the exact same feelings the rational part of your brain was telling you to avoid. But you didn’t care.
So you nestled further in Harry’s embrace, falling into him. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his muscled arm come around and wrap your shoulders. You could feel the sheer strength of his chest, feel every sculpted muscle of his under your head. Your skin felt as if it were on fire, fire that did not burn you but only tingled you. A tingle that you felt erupting in the lower part of your stomach.
You look up to see Harry gazing down at you. “I gather you don’t find the movie interesting.” You said, he only smiled gently at you.
“Talking birds aren’t really my preference.” He said, his voice sounding raspy.
“Oh, I can change it,” you said, getting up but Harry pulled you down, which made you land on top of him. You were now sitting on his lap, your expression that of extreme fluster. “That won’t be necessary,” Harry said. He looked at you with a gaze that threatened to devour you as a whole. He dragged his thumb over your lip slowly.
Your breathing went shallow all of a sudden. The flimsy material of your nightshirt wasn’t thick enough to hide how your nipples hardened under his touch. “What are you doing?” You asked him, your words a mere pant leaving your lips.
“What I dreamt of doing for so long,” Harry said.
He slowly inched his head towards you, his lips inviting you. It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and he was the source of oxygen. The second your lips met with his you could feel your lungs fill with the air you lacked before.
Harry moved his hands up and down your body, feeling you as deeply as he could. Every inch of your skin, from the pads of your fingertips to your chest was on fire. A fire that Harry’s hands ignited in their wake. A fire that seemed to only burn and burn.
You started grinding your hips. Feeling his hard bulge under you. A desperate moan escaped his lips. You started to circle your hips more deeply, pressing your hot and dripping centre against him. You could feel the denim of his pants rub through the flimsy material of your shorts.
You were both a mess of pants and moans. Kissing each other as if the world threatened to end. A moan was about to fall off your lips when the bell rang. You shot up, looking at Harry with wide eyes.
“Shh, it’s okay angel.” He said, cupping your face in his hand.
You got up from his lap, now consciously aware of what had just happened.
“Y/N! Let me in!” Sharon spoke from the other end of the door. Your eyes were wide in alarm as you turned towards Harry. “Bathroom! Go!” You whispered to him, dragging him to your bathroom.
Once Harry was in, you opened the door. “Hi Sharon, what’s got you knocking on my door at this time?”
Sharon only rolled her eyes and walked in. “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically.
“Why what’s tomorrow?” You ask her.
“Harry’s taking me out.” She said as if you had asked a silly question.
“Oh.”
“I was thinking of wearing my red dress, or maybe the white one y’know the one with pearls and-”
“Sharon, listen I’d love to do this, but just not now.” You said, your voice meek.
“Why're you acting like this?” She asked you, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Like what?” You feigned innocence, already feeling guilty for refusing her.
“Like you have someone here. Do you, though?” She asked you, almost sounding accusatory.
Be calm. Be calm.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Anyways, you go to bed or whatever you were doing.” She said leaving your apartment.
You let out a deep breath and walked towards the washroom. You opened the door and saw Harry, standing behind the shower curtain, his brawny structure making him stick out like a sore thumb.
“You can come out now.” You said.
“Ah thank God, I thought I’d have to stay here the whole night.” He chuckled.
“No, Sharon was just asking what to wear for her date tomorrow. A date that you’re taking her on.” You stated blandly.
“Oh.”
“Oh God, this was never supposed to happen. What have we done?” You said dragging your palms down your face. Before you could say another word Harry hugged you. He hugged you long and tight.
And despite knowing better, you melted in his arms like putty.
28th March 2014
3:27 p.m
You sat in your car, in the parking lot outside the rugby stadium, waiting for Harry. This is what your life has come to now. Waiting outside in parking lots to meet Harry, subtle brushes against each other, locking eyes with each other. Harry did the same, waiting for you outside your classes, entering your apartment at odd times. Your relationship had transgressed from being purely physical to being a more emotional one. You would both simply sit next to each other, talking.
The world didn’t seem so lonely anymore for the two of you.
You look outside to see Harry walk towards you. His hair was wet and he wore a compression shirt that highlighted his muscled build along with loose baggy sweatpants. He smiled looking at you, a smile you had come to know was only reserved for you. He didn’t smile like this with Sharon or with his friends, a part of your heart fluttered at this knowledge.
“Hello, my love,” Harry said, getting in the car.
“Hi. How was practice?” You asked him.
“It was good, tiring as always. How were classes?” Harry asked you while throwing his duffel bag in the back of the car.
“Fine. Sharon wanted me to go out with her, Regina and Tara tonight.” You stated blandly. The sound of Sharon's name brought a lot of unwanted guilt in your head.
“Are you going?” He asked you.
“I don’t know. They don’t talk to me as much when sober, I doubt the outcome’s going to be different when they’re drunk.” You sighed. Your hands fidgeted with the steering wheel of the car. The rings on your hand clacked against it faintly.
“You can always change the people you’re around Y/N,” he said
“But I can’t,”
“But you can.”
“You can, I can’t. Being able to make friends or even just talk to people doesn’t come to me as naturally as it does to you, Harry.” You sighed, becoming frustrated at both the conversation at hand and your lack of social skills.
“It’s okay. I get it.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand.
“Do you, though?” You shot back, scoffing.
“Y/N, come on don’t be like this.” Harry pleaded. His voice was soft and buttery, coaxing you into a better place.
“Yeah, I’m sorry there’s just a lot that’s been on my mind as of late.” You breathed through your nose deeply. Your head felt heavy with all the anxiety you’d been feeling lately.
“You want to talk about it?”
“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” You whispered meekly.
Harry slowly brushed his hand over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, gazing into his eyes as a smile crept up your face. You leaned towards him and kissed him. You cupped his face with your hands and drew him into you. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly and pulled you onto his lap, albeit it was uncomfortable because of the tight place.
You moaned at his touch, capturing his lip between your teeth and tugging at it. Harry was left absolutely breathless by your actions and pulled you down harder, his hands squeezing your hips and waist. You could feel every muscle of his flex because of the thin compression shirt he wore.
“Careful now. Don’t want anyone to see us.” You whispered in his ear.
“What if I do?” Harry said, looking at you with an intense gaze.
Your lower lip jutted out subtly, a subtle reflection of what you thought of his words. “Everyone’s going to call you a cheater and they’ll call me something worse probably.” You chuckled sadly. You gave Harry a sincere kiss on his cheek and made your way for your seat.
“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going or not?” He asked you.
“No.” You answered as you started the car.
“Then how about a movie night? Just the two of us.”
“Hm, at my place and I’ll decide what to watch obviously.” You said smiling at him.
“Whatever you say kitten,” Harry said, holding your hand and kissing it.
4th April 2014
10:07 p.m
The black sky above glistened with a million stars, your eyes fixated on them. Harry watched you watching the stars. He smiled to himself. He longed for you in a silent and torturous way. You often felt worlds away from him even when you were right next to him. He blamed his lack of decisiveness for this distance. He knew deep down that the distance between you two would eventually strangle the life out of the relationship you shared. He was desperate for you, pining only for you. His world would stop moving when you’d call him by his name, all his focus narrowing on you.
“It’s breathtaking.” You gasped looking up.
“It truly is,” Harry said, looking at you.
You were sceptical at first when Harry said he knew a spot. After a drive of half an hour, you found yourself at the peak of a small hill, untouched by civilisation except for a small concrete bench. It not only overlooked the whole city but also had a magnificent view of the sky above. The stars weren’t so explicitly visible in the city as they were here.
The cool air blew against your cheeks, kissing your face gently.
“Come, sit with me,” Harry said, calling to you. You walk towards him and sit next to him on the bench.
You sigh through your nose and look ahead. “I think about it sometimes, what our first date would look like.” You said. Your voice sounded mournful as if you were grieving the loss of a relationship that never existed.
“I’d get you flowers, maybe even chocolates if you’re lucky that day,” Harry said. He looked at you and saw how glazed your eyes were.
“But it doesn’t matter. You’re with Sharon, who hates me. And you know what’s even more pathetic, it’s the fact that she hates me yet she’s my friend.” You spoke, your voice wobbly and cracking. You often felt like a washing machine. Everyone would come and go and leave a piece behind in it. Sometimes the piece would break you, unable to function for months or sometimes it would simply stay there. That was worse, having a piece of someone stay forever even as the washing machine in your heart desperately tried to cleanse you of it. “It’s just the hand I was dealt with.” You quickly added.
“Why don’t you say something to them? You don’t deserve to be walked over all like that. You can’t let that happen to you.” Harry said.
“The same way you’re walking all over me now?” You chuckled darkly.
“What?”
“What are we, Harry? Are we just fucking? Are we just friends? What are we?” You ask the question that had been looming over the both of you like an axe that could drop any moment.
“I wish I could answer that,” Harry said, his head in his hands now.
“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Y/N. I swear.” Harry pleaded, holding your hands in his.
“Why did you kiss me that day?” You asked him, tears now falling from your eyes.
“Because it’s always been you. You, who I wanted all along.” He confessed.
The silence after his confession was all consuming, threatening to eat him up alive. Harry caught a glimpse of you, staring straight at the skyline. Silent tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to reach out and rub away your tears but refrained from doing so. The world seemed to close up on him. He missed the way it opened up with you.
“Y/N, angel? Say something.” Harry said with a soft voice. “Please.” He begged.
You turned to look at him. Harry looked devastating. A handsome prince you dreamt of as a kid. He was a prince, but not yours to claim rather only to keep for a fleeting moment. You brought a hand to his face and smiled sorrowfully at him.
“I suppose this is how things were supposed to be all along.” You whispered resignation etched in your voice.
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, knowing the direction you were steering things in all too well.
“You have Sharon, Harry. Go to her.” You said.
Both of you sat there, time stretching painfully as if the universe was mocking your agony. Your eyes met one last time, a gaze full of regret and all things left unsaid. You leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips in your own for the last time. The kiss was hesitant at first, both of you afraid as if pressing too hard would shatter the fragile moment between you two. It was a kiss full of the things you couldn’t say, the dreams you had for one another, the conversations you shared.
And for Harry, as he kissed you a part of him mourned the confession that would never find its way to you. A three worded sentence, one that would change his life and yours.
I love you.
3rd May, 2014
1:17 p.m
“It’s amazing, how she’s just disappeared all of a sudden,” Sharon said, twirling her hair.
“Wait, who disappeared?” Harry asked her.
“Y/N.”
Harry and Sharon sat next to each other in her apartment. The wound you left in Harry’s heart was one he was doubtful would close. He dreamt of you, thought of you and longed for you. But he knew his thoughts would not materialise and you would only remain a figment of his past, a memorial of the right person wrong time concept.
“What do you mean?” He pressed the girl further.
“Ugh, I wasn’t supposed to tell this to anyone but I can’t keep it in me anymore. She’s leaving for Rio tomorrow, she’s got an internship at some sanctuary. I think the Sun would do her some good actually.” Sharon chuckled.
“Oh.” He felt his world was spinning.
“She's yet to give me my sweater. She’s actually supposed to give it today.”
Perhaps if it were fate, perhaps it was circumstance but whatever it was, Harry was thankful for it when the bell rang. “Don’t worry I’ll get it. You stay here.” He said and kissed Sharon’s head. He hoped it was you on the other side of the door.
And his prayers were answered.
There you were, standing in the doorway with a sweater in your hand. Your eyes widened slightly at Harry’s enormous yet so familiar frame, and his face, the same face that swept you off your feet now made you wary.
“You’re going to Rio?” Harry asked you.
“Yes. It’s an internship.” You curtly answered. You tried to walk in but Harry blocked your way, his muscled arm blocking your way.
“For how long?” He asked, cornering you as if you were prey and he a predator.
“Five years. They’ll start paying me after three months, so it’s more like a job I guess.” You said.
“And when were you going to tell me about it?” He asked you, his face stern and stoic.
“It’s not like we were dating.” You harshly said.
Harry hated this. This newfound sense of coldness between the two of you. He wondered how something so warm became so cold this quickly. The cold you left behind was one that could not be thawed, Harry would only have to live it.
“I love you Y/N,” Harry confessed. He didn’t miss the way your eyes softened, even if only for a moment.
“Lie to me again. I dare you.” You asserted, walking up to him. Your eyes were dark, distant and cold. Like a cold desert that never seemed to end.
“I’m not lying. I love you. I always have and always will.”
“I’d rather you not.”
—————-
A/N: Let me know how you like it in the comments and reblogs! I love talking to you all, send me asks and whatever you feel like! Thank you so much for reading!
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xojennyboo · 16 days ago
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Harry Smut Imagines
Hello everyone! I have officially created my masterlist of everything I've written so far. Thank you to everyone that has read my writing on wattpad and on here. Please do not hesitate to submit in your requests of any imagine that you want. Don't forget to follow and like. Thank you!
My Wattpad!
Smut
Brits
Pregnancy Cravings
Love of My Life
Welcome Back
Christmas Dinner
All Night Long
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
Birthday Wishes
Late Night Shower
Happy Birthday Harry
Roomates
Baby Bliss
Valentine's Day
Unexpected
Beautiful
Friends
Through thick and thin
Work Relations
Affair
Darling
Morning Bliss
Series
Mother Part 1
Mother Part 2
Mother Part 3
Mother Part 4
Crush Part 1
Crush Part 2
Blurbs
Lucy
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moonchildstyles · 1 month ago
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fender
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it's 1976, and harry is the biggest rockstar in the world and y/n never thought she would have the chance to meet her idol. especially not like this.
wordcount: 12k+
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(Y/N) swore she could feel every note from the blaring speakers in her veins, her bones rattling from the base. Her skin was heated, a sheen of sweat covering every exposed inch. Bodies were packed all around her, dancing and jumping, hands in the air just as hers were. The bar of the barricade pressed heavily against her stomach, holding her back with a cool punch through her clothing. She'd never been to a concert by herself before, but she was finding she didn't mind the fact she was on her own, her dancing much more inhibited with her voice beginning to crackle from the sheer pitch of the screams she was letting out. 
Before her, up high on the stage with the bright lights cloaking his form, was her favorite rockstar. 
Harry Styles. 
In flared bell bottoms, and chest bare, he pranced across the stage, taking in every adoring eye trained on him. His trusted guitarist was shredding away on his neon orange Fender, taking care of the hard work so Harry could swagger about the stage with his microphone swinging in his hand. Sweat dripped down the blocks of his muscles, shimmering as if he had spread the glitter on his eyes over the rest of his body. His lips were curled in a lopsided smile, smug and cocky; he was more than aware of the fact that thousands had filled this arena just to see him. 
Another upside to having made it to this show by herself, (Y/N) didn't feel all that silly when she screamed that much louder when he strided over to her side of the stage. Dimples dented the rockstar's cheeks as he took in the adoration being flung at him from all sides. He scanned through the crowd, taking in every set of sparkling eyes and no doubt spotting every beautiful face that was more than willing to do just about anything for him. 
While this was the first time (Y/N) had the privilege of seeing Harry live (after having missed both his '73, and '75 tours, it seemed '76 was finally her year) it was no secret just how much love he liked to share with his fans. He never denied it in interviews and more than once photographs of women draped over him had come to light and landed on the front cover of tabloids, or anonymous sources sharing details of sordid nights in his bed. Whenever confronted with questions about those stories or who he was pictured with, he famously gave a dimpled smile and shrugged it of, saying something about how he fell in love easily and didn't shy away from the feeling. 
She wondered what she saw when he looked out at the huddles of people looking up at him tonight—if he saw someone he could fall in love with for the night. 
As the song continued on, it was time for his next verse though he didn't stray from this side of the stage. He brought the microphone to his lips, crooning his famous lyrics in perfect melody with the rest of his band. He put on a show where he stood as he sang a particularly suggestive line while trailing a hand down his bare stomach, hooking a finger into the waist of his pants to bring them down for a teasing peek of more skin before snapping back into place. 
(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her lungs, immensely grateful for how close she'd made it to the stage. She wouldn't have been able to see the thatch of hair he revealed had she been any farther back. Screamed erupted around her, Harry seemingly liking the reaction so much he had to pull away from his microphone to let out a bubble of laughter. By the time he went back to doing his job, there was a particularly smug smile on his lips with matching dimples and amused eyes.
He continued to sing even as pairs of panties and lacy bras were thrown up to the stage, women screaming for his attention with their shirts pressed up to expose their chests. He weaved around the set up, playing with his bandmates to the excitement of his fans. He soaked it all in with exuberant confidence, shining under the stage lights and he put on his show. (Y/N) felt breathless as she sang along with him, her bones rattling as the pit danced around her, pushing her harder against the barricade at her stomach. 
By the time the final lines of the song came around, he had made his way back to (Y/N)'s side of the stage. She and the fans around her danced and sang along, her voice scratching in the back of her throat as she gazed up at him. The tune ended in a flourish of drum beats, heavy and bone rattling through the arena. 
Harry finished with phantom punches to the air in time with the drum beats just before the lights went down for a flickering moment. His chest was heaving by the time the lights came up once more, his band breaking to take sips of water, his guitarist changing out instruments for another, just as flashy, guitar. The spotlight was dead center on Harry, his eyes casting far out to the rest of the packed arena before him. (Y/N) went her mouth drop into a gape as she took in the man before her—no photograph able to do him justice. 
"Everyone still doing good? Having fun?" his voice boomed through the speakers, gesticulating with his hands as if he could reach to the back stretches of the venue. The arena erupted once more, pitched screams calling for his attention. He let out a breathy laugh into the microphone. "I'd hope so," he crooned, "because I'm having a wonderful time. So many pretty faces—thank y'for coming to see me tonight." 
He reveled under the cheers given to him, going quiet as he turned his gaze down, to the pit closest to him. 
To where (Y/N) was standing right in front of him. 
His eyes lingered over the rows behind her before coming closer, stopping a little too close for comfort. 
(Y/N) didn't want to get too far ahead of herself, but was he looking at her?
"And what about right here?" he asked, bending down to one knee at the edge of the stage as if he wasn't close enough already, "Having fun?" 
Those around her burst into screams, pressing behind her as if they could surge through her and get closer to the rockstar. Her vision was vignetted with all the reaching hands attempting to touch him, fingers outstretched. (Y/N)'s reaction was stuck in her chest, her body stunned into paralysis with sweaty hands tightening around the barricade bar.
His only acknowledgment of the rest of the world came in the form of a quirked lip while his eyes stayed fixed to one spot. The longer she blinked up at him, no reaction, his smile grew, a brow lifting. 
Whatever view the rest of the venue was getting had another round of raucous reactions. 
Finally mustering enough wherewithal, (Y/N) nodded her head, her mouth still in a small gape. 
The quirk in his lips tilted that much more, a dimple settling in his cheek with a hint of the white of his teeth. "Yeah?" 
Though inaudible compared to the ruckus around her, she nodded her head with a parroted, "Yeah." 
His eyes lingered on her for a passing moment, the tip of his tongue peaking out to skim the blunt of his teeth. Around her, (Y/N) could feel the screams just as much as she heard them, the volume coasting over her skin and seeping through her pores.
"'M gonna make tonight the best night of your life, yeah?" he pressed, speaking directly to her though the world had their own view of the moment.
Another stunned wave touched (Y/N)'s bones, stuttering her lungs and knocking her breath askew. If she wasn't being delusional—something she couldn't be one hundred percent sure of—there was a chance Harry's eyes touched over the neckline of her top, following the line of her exposed skin. 
She gave him a small nod. 
He gave her another smile before rising to the full of his height once more, the stretch of his body on display. Waltzing over the stage, (Y/N) knew he was speaking, pointing out more in the crowd and doing what he did best by enchanting the masses and bending them to his will, though she didn't hear a word of it. 
The trail of his gaze left behind a warmth like he had touched her with his own hands, enough pressure lingering on her skin even when another song started up. 
Once the first verse of the song had played, (Y/N) felt her body come back to life slowly, the gravity of the moment beginning to turn into adrenaline. The man she had a hidden poster of had just made eye contact with her and told her he'd make her night special. Harry Styles had looked at her. 
Thank god she showed up early tonight. This barricade was now holy ground as far as she was concerned. 
Just as she began to sway along with the rest of the bodies around her, checking back into reality, the rockstar swaggered across the stage once more, taking his time to prowl before her. 
He looked out in the crowd, reaching far back before trailing closer to where she stood just in front of him once more. He shuttered a single eye in a wink to her with a stanza of particularly suggestive lyrics dripping from his lips.
This time she couldn't help the scream that bellowed from her lungs, only spurred on by the grin on his face.
—————
"See? If you ask nicely, y'get what y'want, don't you?" 
Harry's booming voice reawakened the arena. He was giving them the encore they had been begging him for once he exited the stage, the chants of his name being enough to have his band reenter with the rockstar himself following closely behind. (Y/N)'s heart thundered in her chest, cheers leaving her throat. 
Mourning the end of the show could wait another ten minutes. 
The opening notes of a new tune started, the shredding of the guitar screeching through the arena. (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of Harry as he pranced across the space, his jeans sitting low on his hips (at the right angle, she swore she saw a decidedly thick bulge at his crotch—more than just needing a readjustment).
(Y/N) only had a chance to hear the first few lines of the opening verse before a large man in all black came to block her view. If not for the fact she was currently—as promised—having the best night of her life, she would have thrown a fit. She instead attempted to crane her neck around this block and catch glimpses of Harry for the last few moments of the night.
"Sweetheart," he yelled against the bass coming from the speakers, "You're coming with me." 
Blinking, (Y/N) forced her gaze to settle on this man. Just as she feared, he was looking right at her as he spoke. 
Though she was largely unwilling to not pay attention to the concert of her life, she didn't think she had much of a choice in ignoring this man. 
"Me?" she enunciated, pointing at herself if he wasn't able to hear her right. 
"Yes, you," he said again, eyes trained on her, "Now. Before the end of the show."
Had she done something wrong? She couldn't imagine she was any more rowdy than the rest of the crowd (especially, as she still had all of her undergarments on and her nose clean), but she was the one being removed? 
"Why?" she sputtered, anchoring to her spot. 
The man's lips thinned, unimpressed with her pushback. "I've been asked to bring you backstage." 
(Y/N) blanched at the new information. "By who?" she pressed, not entirely believing this moment. 
The man sighed, his shoulders lifting. He caught her gaze, holding it as he jerked his head to gesture to the stage behind him. 
Right where Harry Styles was prancing about, low slung jeans and all.
She blinked at him, flicking between his enlarged gaze to the rockstar at his back. "Really?" 
"Yes," he insisted, "And I would like to take you now while we still have the space." 
(Y/N) didn't immediately move, switching her eyes to Harry Styles, in all of his glistening glory. The curls on the top of his head were slick with sweat, but still managed to flop so handsomely over his features. His tattoos shuddered over his skin, animating with every belting note and roll of his body. 
He had promised to make this the best night of her life, and she couldn't imagine any better way than to meet him backstage. 
With the help of the man in black, she crossed the barricade with the eyes of those around her following closely behind. He led her carefully around the stage and through different equipment on quick feet, the music being left behind with the private backstage area before her. 
Chancing a look over her shoulder, Harry, with his microphone cord coiled around his hand and sparkling eyes, winked at her once more. 
—————
Sitting alone in what she figured was Harry's dressing room, (Y/N) could hear the final encore being played through the walls. While a part of her was itching to run back out, to catch those moments she had been looking forward to from the second she had bought her ticket, she was practically bolted to her spot. 
All around her were small relics of the man out on that stage. An herbal candle sat with a pool of melted wax on the vanity table, anchoring down a blue cloth. Flecks of glitter seemed to stick to near every surface, leaving specks of light dotted across every surface, including the familiar container of makeup remover reflected in the mirror. A faded t-shirt was on the ground, next to a rumpled pair of athletic sweats. A bottle of cologne balanced on the edge, just a bump away from falling to the floor. 
Her fingers fumbled in her lap, her heart puttering in her chest. She was backstage at a Harry Styles concert after being requested by the man himself. Knowing his discography well enough, every note that rocked through the walls acted like a ticking time clock, counting down to the moment she would no longer be alone in this dressing room. 
Muffled through the arena, she heard the music crescendoing, heavy drumbeats and addicting guitar riffs ruffling the structure. Harry's voice played over the music, though it was clear he wasn't singing. Was he saying his goodbyes for the night? 
The thought had her heart jumping into her throat, head going blank. 
Should she stand up? Should she meet him up there? Would he like her outfit or was the cutout between her breasts too much? Oh god, what was she going to say? 
Her pulse was kicked into overdrive when she heard a ruckus start up backstage, more voices piping up than she'd heard in the last ten minutes. Harry's voice had disappeared from the muffled tone he'd had on stage, making her pulse kick up that much more. 
How close was he? Was anyone else going to come back here with him? Would he think her pants were stupid?
The long line of questions came to a halt the second the doorknob turned, the sound seemingly louder than the band playing the show out back on the stage. A muffled goodbye sounded on the other side before the first glimpse of the rockstar could be seen.
He was looking over his shoulder, speaking to someone she couldn't see around the broad strokes of his frame. His bare skin shimmered with sweat and glitter, animating his tattoos over the blocks of his muscles. The denim of his jeans were tight around his thighs though the waist still managed to fall some down his hips, showcasing a pair of leafy tattoos. He was saying something, a string of words that she missed completely over the roaring in her ears. 
It felt like hours, watching him say his final goodbyes to whoever, before he finally turned around to face her. 
Had her mouth already been dropped open, or was that just a side effect of seeing the green of his eyes up close? 
"Hi," he smiled at her, moving towards his vanity table to retrieve the blue cloth held down under the candle, "How are you?" 
Blinking, (Y/N) practically stumbled to her feet, her hands behind her back in a fumbling mess. "Hi. I'm good, thank you. How are you?" 
A small smile touched his lips, "'M alright, thanks. 'M Harry." 
It was (Y/N)'s turn to smile, a breath of laughter falling from her lips. "Oh, you're Harry! Got it," she attempted to joke, feeling one of the many strings tensing her shoulders being cut when he rewarded her with a bubbling laugh. "I'm (Y/N)." 
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," he shared, a single curl flopping over his forehead as he ran the cloth over his face and down his neck, "'M happy y'made it back here—was worried y'weren't going to come after seeing y'talk to Paul." 
"I was just a little confused," she explained, noting the way his eyes dropped to her lips as she spoke, "I couldn't believe you were actually asking for me." 
"No?" he pressed, raising a brow with a quirk to his lips. He leant against the vanity counter, giving her all of his attention as if he wasn't shirtless with a sweaty chest staring at her. "And why is that, hm?" 
Somehow, even without the amps and speakers booming throughout the venue, his voice held more impact in the quiet dressing room. The bass seemed heavier, his accent more drawling, the draw of his lips more alluring without a microphone in the way. 
"Um," she started, blinking the stars out of her eyes, "Just... There was a lot going on out there—I didn't think you could even see me over the lights—or the bras." 
Harry laughed, dimples popping into his cheeks with a light in his eyes. "Yeah, there was a lot out there tonight. Want anything before 's all cleaned up out there?" 
He gestured out the door of his dressing room while (Y/N) shrugged. "Maybe. Was there anything pretty?" 
The way he let his eyes drop heavily to her body, touching over the cutout on her top and the soft of her midriff exposed by the cropped fit almost made (Y/N) want to stumble back. When he dared to meet her eyes once more, he had a coy curl to his lips as if she hadn't been there as he dragged his eyes over her. 
"I can think of a couple of things that might look pretty on you." 
Despite the small laugh that puffed from her lips, her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn't wanted to get too far ahead of herself when she was first asked to meet him backstage, but it was hard to ignore the way he looked at her and still think this was nothing more than a friendly conversation. 
"If there's anything you don't want, I'll take," she countered, hoping he couldn't hear the sound of her heartbeat with the way it was rushing through her ears. 
The coy smile on his mouth turned into something more genuine then, amusement in his eyes. "Yeah? Y'saw anything y'think I need to take home?" 
Even with the squeeze of her lungs, the nervous pit in her stomach, (Y/N) saw her own opportunity being dangled before her. She hoped she came off as nonchalant as she pictured as she shrugged, canting her head with a slight lick of her gaze down his chest. "I think you look good enough right now." 
While there was still a lingering flush on his cheeks from the stage, the adrenaline clearly visible on his features, her words seemingly only fanned him hotter. The cloth he held was now dropped to the vanity, his empty hands coming to rest on the lip of the counter behind him. His arms flexed at his sides, veins popping out on his forearms. 
"Good enough for what?" he pressed, a spark skittering through his eyes.
He hadn't shot her down. He was flirting back. Oh, god. 
What would one of the women in the magazines say? How did they flirt with him so effortlessly to be invited for a fanciful—even if fleeting—night? 
"You tell me," she countered, the only syllables that were able to squeak through her throat. 
Dimples were deep in his cheeks by the time he turned around, collecting the bottle of makeup remover before pouring some on his cloth. He began wiping away the glitter as he found her eyes in the mirror. 
"The band and I are going back to the hotel with a few friends—maybe party a little. Y'wanna come?" 
Bubbling excitement like what she felt out on the arena floor reentered her stomach. A bright smile touched her features. 
"I'd love to."
—————
"Pick your poison, darling." 
(Y/N) didn't even know there were hotel rooms with fully stocked bars, but here was one right before her. A liquor tray behind the counter was decorated with plenty of bottles and decanters, more than half already missing gulps. Harry was acting as her bartender while the rest of the band and various guests were traipsing around the suite, the door to the hallway left wide open as they milled in and out. Music pumped through a set of stereo speakers, a member of Harry's band acting as DJ with various records and cassettes being switched in and out upon the players. 
More than one familiar face swept through the suite, people she'd seen in the crowd of the arena tonight alongside those she'd met backstage. Some left the bathrooms with wide eyes and sniffling noses, others with hair bigger than when they had gone in and lipstick askew with a partner behind them. It was nowhere near the kind of party she had pictured when following after Harry, but she'd never been around rockstars before either. 
Flitting her gaze over the various bottles surrounding Harry, (Y/N) canted her head. "Anything sweet." 
Harry hummed, a slight quirk to his lips as he started fiddling about the different bottles. "Should've guessed, hm?" 
"Why do you say that?" 
Leaning on the bar, arms folded underneath her chest with her breasts pushed up, (Y/N) watched with her eyes lingering on his hands. All of his stage adornments, including his rings, had been left behind when he changed into something decidedly less ostentatious for this party, leaving the length of his fingers bare for her eyes to feast upon. 
"Jus' had a feeling," he smiled at her, his eye falling into a wink. 
(Y/N) watched with the same rapt attention she had given him on stage as he mixed her drink. He pulled bottles of clear liquor together with various juices, working in smooth movements as a brightly colored cocktail came together. Everything he did came off as fluid and practiced, the same kind of ease he offered to the stage with every note he belted and swagger of his hips.
"We jus' got here," Harry murmured, knocking her attention from his hands to his amused gaze, "Y'can't keep looking at me like that unless you're ready for our night to end." 
Her breath caught in her throat. He'd told her earlier that this entire floor had been booked out for him and his band, but his room was at the very end. The biggest suite, he'd said—with a terrace and everything. 
Would it be so bad to find out what his room looked like so early?
Attempting her best nonchalant facade, (Y/N) shrugged, a coy smile on her face. It was enough to make Harry laugh. 
She could see him open his mouth to say something only to be cut off by a shout of his name from across the room. He whipped to face the call, the baby curls drying on the back of his neck giving a bounce at the motion. (Y/N) turned to follow his line of sight, seeing a semi-familiar face she had passed when backstage heading towards them with a beaming smile. 
"I didn't know you were here! Took you forever to clean up, I thought you were spending the night at the venue," the man joked, pushing long dreads over his shoulder. His dark eyes danced over to (Y/N) for a fleeting second, his grin widening. "Is this your friend Mitch was telling me about?" 
Rounding the bar with a fluorescent drink in his hand, Harry handed off the glass to (Y/N) (no ice, the crystal warm from his hand) before slinging his arm over her shoulder. She felt a shiver touch the bottom of her spine, though she used all of her effort to keep it pinned down.
Harry shrugged her closer to him, the side of her breast pushing against him through the thin material of her top. "Yeah, this is (Y/N). Met at the show—saw her pretty face right in the front row." 
Harry's friend looked at her with raised brows, amusement laced in his eyes as he followed the length of Harry's arm around her shoulders. "Yeah? Liked the show?" 
(Y/N) eagerly nodded, Harry's hold slipping from around her shoulders to be readjusted around her waist with a flex. She could feel his eyes on her face as he awaited her answer. "Loved it," she chirped, smiling with a cant to her head, "I've never seen him live before, so tonight was really amazing. I feel really lucky." 
Maybe she was laying it on thick—she already made it backstage with his arm around her waist, she didn't have to catch his attention anymore—,but she liked seeing the dimples denting into his cheeks as he listened to her. 
"I didn't know tonight was your first time," he mumbled to her, voice low as if they didn't have another person standing just in front of them, watching on with amused eyes. 
"I'd feel lucky too if I were you," the man continued, his voice lilting in a tease, "Most of Harry's friends never make it past the dressing room."
"Alright, Jay," Harry cut in, voice louder than a moment before as he suddenly steered them towards the end of the conversation, "I'll see y'later. Thanks." 
Jay only laughed it off, seemingly having achieved the reaction he wanted from Harry. (Y/N) didn't let herself linger on the motion of Harry's other friends—she knew she wasn't first and would most likely not be the last. Some of her wildest dreams had been reached just by meeting him, she could be happy with whatever she was granted tonight. Even if it was just that: one night. 
"Sorry," Harry murmured, saving face as he guided (Y/N) away from Jay and towards the sitting area where most of the musicians were huddled together with drinks and records splayed across the coffee table. She ignored the faint lines of white scattered over the recognizable covers. "He likes to get on m'nerves, I think." 
"It's alright," (Y/N) reassured, watching as Harry sunk into the one cushion left on the couch, "I thought it was funny." 
Harry raised a brow at her, a sly smile on his lips, "'M sure y'did. C'mere darling."
He gestured her to his lap, opening his arms for her to plant herself on his thighs. Looking at him with his eyes trained upwards at her, sparkling and a bit lazy after putting on an energetic show, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. She had to make a point to see from tripping all over herself to take up his invitation. 
There were eyes all around that watched as she took her spot on Harry's spread thighs, taking note of his arm wrapping around her middle to keep her steady. She had her own eyes down looking at her pretty drink as she hid the smile on her face. The cropped cut of her top allowed his palms to press against the bare skin of her waist, calluses roughening his touch from his years of playing different guitars. She was sure he could feel the line of goosebumps that rose in the wake of his touch, including the circuit his thumb started up around the waistline of her pants. 
(Y/N) brought her head up when she heard the call of Harry's name from one of the many sitting around the coffee table. The guitarist—Mitch—had his head tilted, looking at Harry with a sly smile on his face. 
"Mitchell?" Harry drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice as he pulsed a hand on (Y/N)'s waist. 
"Are you going to introduce any of us to your friend?" 
While Mitch and others in the circle didn't look particularly surprised to see someone on Harry's arm, it appeared Jay wasn't kidding with his comment about a rare few of Harry's friends making it past the dressing room. 
"This is (Y/N), everyone," Harry relented, his voice low despite the music blasting just behind them. Nonetheless, everyone gave him rapt attention as if he had a microphone in his hand. "(Y/N), this is everyone." 
"Hi, everyone," (Y/N) smiled, hoping she came off funnier than she sounded to herself,  "Nice to meet you." 
She could feel Harry laugh, his chest puffing from behind her. She took another sip of her drink, hiding her proud smile. 
Conversation bubbled up then, some words slurred and slow while others were rambling at a rapid pace. (Y/N) sipped her drink as she took in the environment, listening in as if she were watching a movie. Harry's rumbling voice was an anchor at her back, his hand on her thigh keeping her attention as she tuned into his voice. 
Behind her, he and Mitch were talking about the new customer Fender that was being made in Harry's honor. Perfect for the next album, she'd heard, the information brightening up her face. 
"What are y'smiling about, hm? Something funny?" Harry's lips brushed the back of her ear, his voice drifting down the column of her neck. As he spoke he shifted his hand up to land on her waist, giving the curve a tickling squeeze. She jumped in his lap, holding her drink tight to her chest as she let out a gasping laugh. 
"No," she smiled, turning to face him as he gazed up at her, "Just... New music? Already?" 
"'M always working on something," he murmured, keeping his voice quiet as if conspiring with her on sensitive secrets. 
Curling in his chest, (Y/N) could still hear the rivers of conversations flowing around them, eyes that landed on her as she cuddled up to a rockstar, but she kept her eyes on him. "Really? But you're on tour." 
He shrugged around her. "There's always something to write about," he told her, eyes dragging down her face until he landed on her lips, "Something worth making a song about." 
Her skin heated, feeling his gaze as if he touched her with his calloused fingers. Feeling his attention so heavily was like finishing her drink and standing on a rooftop over the city: exhilarating. How had anyone before her survived these kinds of moments—been bold enough to sit through them without taking down every second and memorializing it?
She wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but whatever it was had the corner of his lips turning upwards. A smug smile molded his features. 
"What did I say about looking at me like that?" he murmured, his words teasing though the grip on her hip was far from. 
Canting her head, she matched his gaze, his grip on her keeping her grounded. "I thought you liked it." 
In that moment, his eyes seemingly darkened, pupil dilating. If not for the rest of the noise around them—the music and loud conversation—she wondered what his instincts would have urged him to do. 
"I do," he crooned, shifting under her with his hand still on her hip. 
The way he moved underneath her had her position adjusted on his lap, pushing the curve of her ass right against the middle of his thighs. A hard ridge pressed against her. Emphasizing his point exactly. 
"Oh," she sighed, feeling breathless as if she were still flush against the barricade with an illuminated rockstar before her. It was that memory of him swaggering about the stage, picking her face out and singing the songs she'd listened to like gospel, that had a burst of confidence in her chest. That rockstar had picked her. 
Keeping her eyes on his, she whispered, "Can I hear some of the new music? In your suite?" 
She didn't have to elaborate any further, Harry catching on to the undercurrent to her words. A single dimple touched his cheek, his hand pulsing around her hip. "Let's go." 
(Y/N) stood first off of his lap with Harry following after, reaching to take her hand in his. 
"Leaving already?" Mitch piped up, his eyes dancing with amusement as Harry turned to face him. 
"Gonna show her some of the stuff we've been working on," Harry drawled, nonchalant as he began inching towards the door, "Back in m'room." 
"Coming back?" 
Harry glanced at (Y/N) then, a silent communication that had her sheepishly smiling. "Probably not." 
"Right," Mitch said, brows bouncing over his eyes, "See you in the morning." 
Without much ceremony, Harry made their getaway for the night, leading her out into the hall. Stragglers were stationed around the ajar door, some with a lingering powder under their nose, others with hair messed up more than what (Y/N) was sure was intentional, matching the smudged makeup. Harry only gave them an acknowledging nod before heading down the corridor with her in tow. 
It was a short walk to the door, though (Y/N) hoped to be able to recall every step down the hall, every beat of her heart against her ribs in the morning. 
"After you," he crooned, opening the door with a flourish as he stood to the side. 
She gave him a smiling nod as she crossed the threshold. The press of his gaze could be felt on her backside. 
Flicking the lights on, a true suite was presented to her. She could only see the bedroom through a cracked door. The main living area, though much more put together compared to the room they'd just left, it was still clear a rockstar was crashing there. Random clothing was strewn about the space, open suitcases full of stage clothing as well as casual pieces. A heavy boombox with an array of tapes scattered around it was placed atop the television. 
It wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it would be, given the rumors of what rock stars got up to in hotel rooms, but she figured that was what the extra rooms were for. It wasn't much fun sleeping in a mess, especially when on stage every night with little sleep to boot. 
"Didn't have time to clean up today, sorry," Harry said, closing the door behind them.
(Y/N) smiled over her shoulder at him, setting her cocktail on the counter of the kitchenette as she walked deeper into the suite. "Too busy?" 
Dimples in his cheeks, he walked slowly as he followed her in. "A little bit." 
Stepping around the mess, she found herself by the sound system, rifling through the cassettes he had around it. The plastic casing gleamed in the light, more than a handful scattered on the television stand. A few familiar, newer albums stood out. 
Bowie, Station to Station. Queen, Day at the Races. Ramones' debut. Elton John, Blue Moves.
One empty case was beside the player, the cover flipped open with the tape missing. Flicking it back, the cover of ABBA's Arrival shone. 
"ABBA?" 
Behind her, Harry slipped an arm around her waist, looking over her shoulder. "What? Y'don't like disco?" 
"I do," she laughed, turning around to face him, "Just didn't picture you as a dancing queen, that's all. You look a little bit older than seventeen." 
Harry clasped his hands behind her back, his fingers pressing into the bare skin presented through the crop of her shirt. His features were softened as he matched her gaze, eyes hooded and heavy. "Does that disqualify me?" 
"Probably." She wasn't sure when they started whispering, when his fingertips on her back began to creep under the hem of her top, but she melted into his touch with her own hands settling on his chest. 
"Still like me?" 
It should have been annoying to hear him speak this way. It wasn't hard to detect the cockiness—near arrogance—in his voice; he knew the answer before he'd even posed the question. It should have turned her off and had her taking her leave. 
But, it only had the opposite effect. His confidence was a warmth hitting her stomach.
With him so close, their bodies flush, she didn't have to try very hard when she shifted her hips to feel the bulge in his pants pressing to the small of her stomach. 
"Yeah," she answered simply, voice suddenly breathless. 
Just as she expected, a smug smile had his lips curling. His hooded gaze traveled around her features, the tip of his tongue skimming the corner of his mouth.
"How much?" 
This was the moment, she decided. There was no way she was in a rockstar's hotel room, after being plucked from the crowd at his request, feet away from his bedroom, and not going to take the opportunity that was being offered on a silver platter. 
"I can show you." 
That had to have been what he wanted to hear, given the fact he surged forward and sealed his lips to hers. 
Unsurprisingly (not that she'd thought about it, or anything), his lips were soft, molding to the shape of her own glossed pair. He slotted his mouth to fit her top lip between the pillows of his two, the tip of his tongue slicking the seam. The smoky taste of the whisky he'd drunk back in the other suite lingered on his tongue, mixing with the sweet liquor of her own sips. 
His hands on her back flattened out, leaving on her bare skin between the waist of her pants and the cropped hem of her top, with the other slipping underneath. His palm was aligned with the knobs of her spine, spanning between her shoulder blades under the thin material of her top.
Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. The soft sound of their lips parting and meeting once more filled his hotel room, slick and messy. His tongue snaked out, sampling a taste of her own when she opened her mouth just enough for him. (Y/N)'s chest shuddered. 
She was kissing Harry fucking Styles. 
She hadn't kept a diary in years, but she was going to have to crack open a new one just to write out every detail of this moment. (Though, she might leave out the bit about how ABBA's Dancing Queen got them there).
"What are y'smiling about?" 
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, hands traveling up his chest to follow the broad stretch of his shoulders. 
He pulled away, keeping his body close to hers as he gazed down at her. His lips were glossed with their shared spit, his pupils blown. "You're smiling. What's funny, hm?" 
His hand under her top shifted until he had his palm over her side, lining up with the ladder of her ribs. Goosebumps touched over her heated skin. 
"Nothing," she murmured, her own hands moving until she had his cheeks cupped in her palms. "Just... This is crazy." 
His eyes practically sparkled with the way she breathlessly spoke. Leaning close, he nudged his nose against hers, eyes slitted. "Yeah?" 
Gone was the smile on her face as she listened to the same voice that had soundtracked her life for the last handful of years. All while he looked at her with kiss-swollen lips and hooded eyes, his hard cock pressing through the material of his pants. 
"Yeah," she parroted, breathy with the word sweeping over his lips. 
It was his turn to smile, surging forward to smear his lips against hers. It was a lingering press, just a bit clumsy with the way his nose knocked hers. She was expecting him to tip his head and deepen the kiss once more, only for him to pull away. 
"I think I promised some new music, right, love?" 
Blinking up at him through her lashes, in a second she was transported back to the other suite, where she had conjured up the story of sneaking to his room to hear new tracks. That felt like hours ago—like she had been a different person back then. Someone who had never kissed Harry Styles before, at least. 
"Right," she smiled, playing along with the game he was proposing, "In your bedroom?" 
A smile grew on his lips. "Of course. Where else?" 
She let out a breathy laugh as she followed after him, hands twined together as they left behind the cassettes and strewn clothing for his darkened bedroom. Different from the rest of the suite, only lamps are left to light the room. Only a single standing lamp beside the rumpled bed was flicked on, leaving a small wash of light sitting on the messy sheets and the bedside table on the opposing side. The space holding a smokey sweet scent, matching the fragrance of his skin. A mess of unlabelled cassettes occupied the bedside table, with another more compact player off to the side. 
Shooting her a lopsided smile, Harry led her to the side table. His hand still in hers, he rifled through the tapes with his free hand. 
"What do y'want to listen to first?" 
The blank bricks held no indication of what could be on them other than a silver sharpie marking them as demos with different numbers. 
"This is your new music?" she murmured, eyes widening when she realized what she was looking at. 
"Mhm," he hummed, the weight of his eyes hitting the line of her profile, "Wanna hear m'favorites?" 
Looking at him through the fan of her lashes, she gave him a nod, pretending as if she wasn't as excited as she really was. She figured being giddy over a couple of tapes wasn't exactly a sexy look. 
Deft fingers pulled out a tape marked as Demo #4 before setting it into the player. Through the speakers, the sound was crackly and quiet compared to the records of his voice she had in her bedroom. The guitar started first, the chords wavy and psychedelic, the guitarist letting the notes linger as if they were melting through the speakers. 
Just as a familiar voice sounded over the notes, Harry pulled her flush to his chest with the help of the grip on her hand. His free hand cupped her cheek, his lips meeting hers in a clumsy mess. He fit her bottom lip between his two, immediately touching the tip of his tongue to the full center of her lip. (Y/N) didn't have to think before she had her mouth parted, letting him in once more. 
Letting go of his hand, she curled her fingers into the material of his shirt, clinging to him. She hadn't been aware her nails could be felt through the thin fabric until a shuddering breath rocked his chest. 
Walking her the short steps backwards, Harry blindly guided her to the edge of the bed. Her knees gave way to the mattress before she fell backwards, Harry following after with his hips fit between her thighs. 
The chains of his necklace dangled over the base of her throat, a cool point of clarity against the rising warmth of her skin. His hands skated down her sides, grazing the bare skin presented from the cut of her top. Her hips fit against his like a puzzle piece, cradling as he pushed against her core with lingering rocks. 
While his hands roamed over her form with their lips locked, (Y/N) took advantage of her position under him and locked a leg over his hip. Reaching up, she racked her fingers through his hair. The curls threaded around her fingers, a low rumble coming from his throat when she pulled just enough at the roots. 
The bass of his moan came just as there was a peak to his voice playing through the cassette player. (Y/N) was reminded she was making out with a rockstar to his own unreleased music. Her hips rocked upwards at the thought. 
Harry began to kiss down her chin, over her neck, and to the shelf of her collarbones while he fit the lengths of his fingers under the material of her top. Her bare skin sang for him, blood rushing through her veins. 
His lips travelled down until he hit the neckline of her shirt. "Can I take this off?" he murmured into her skin, the words sinking into her pores. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded, goosebumps rising when the tip of his nose brushed her neck. "Please." 
She could feel the way he smiled at her response, the curl pressed into her skin before he bit at the line of her collarbone. Her grip in his hair tightened at the short sting, her leg curling that much more around his hip. 
As promised, Harry, with his hands underneath her shirt, helped slide it over her head. Reluctantly, she pulled her hands from his hair and raised up from the bed long enough for him to slip it off her form and for the garment to become another piece of clothing puddled on the floor. 
Without a bra, her breasts were exposed to the buttery light of the lamp. Her nipples peaked in the cool air, her chest rising and falling with each breath she pulled in. Harry didn't wait before he lowered his face to her breasts, smearing his lips over the swells. He scraped his teeth along the plush skin, leaving tender marks in his wake. Her hands once again found his hair, burying her fingers among the strands. 
After a particularly harsh bite, she pulled his hair harshly. She could feel the sly smile that touched at his lips. 
"Feeling good, baby? Like it when I bite you?"
 She gave a clumsy nod of her head, mouth opened in a soundless nod. With her hands in his hair, she pulled him to her nipple, wanting the sting of his bite on the tender bud. 
He didn't immediately give in, only pecking a soft kiss to the peak before looking up at her through the frame of his lashes. "Want me rough? Like it like that?" 
Mindlessly nodding, she keened at the rumbling of his voice. "I like it rough," she bubbled, speaking over the unedited melodies of his voice. 
Instead of responding, Harry gave her what she wanted, his teeth scraping over her nipple. With her hands still in his hair, she gripped the strands at the roots, her back bowing into his lips. Her lips parted with a breathy moan. 
Harry took care of her, his mouth skating over her breasts. His teeth left tender spots—some she almost wanted to leave bruises—with his tongue following in the way, soothing the marks. Her stomach tightened with every wet press of his mouth, his hands sliding down to her hips. He played with the waist of her bottoms, his kiss following slowly after as he trailed down the soft of her stomach. The tip of his nose skimmed her skin, a tickling feeling rising in her chest that had a burst of laughter bubbling out. 
With his lips still attached to her, he peered up at her through his lashes. A slow smile stretched his lips, the curl pressing into her skin. 
"You're always laughing, baby," he murmured, "What is it this time, hm?" 
"Tickles," she laughed, the melody floating over the next track playing off of Demo #4.
A plume of his own rumbling laughter grazed her stomach, goosebumps raising on her skin. Cushioned by the messy, tobacco scented sheets, (Y/N) watched with laughter edging on her lips as he nuzzled into her stomach. He made a show of hitting the waist of her pants with his fingers hooked into the band. 
From between her thighs, he looked up at her with hooded eyes. "Gonna take these off, baby. 'S that alright?" 
"Uh-huh," she nodded. With his hair out of reach of her hands, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch as he worked, fingers curling into the sheets. 
With deft hands, Harry made quick work of the garment. It didn't take long before her pants and boots were on the ground beside her discarded top, leaving (Y/N) in nothing more than a pair of string panties. 
(It was done as a joke almost, when she was getting ready, to pick panties as if she was going to be showing off for someone after the show. She'd never been more grateful for that delusional choice).
Harry was still fully clothed as he took his place once more between her legs, laying the broad of his body flush to hers. Her breasts were pressed into the solid blocks of muscle of his chest, only the thin material of his top separating her skin from his. He sealed his lips to hers once more, getting a taste of her tongue against his in broad strokes.
It was her turn to start stripping him, keeping her mouth to his as she plucked at the neckline of his shirt. 
He pulled away with a breath, lips spit-slicked and kiss-swollen. He looked all too satisfied with himself as he gazed down at her, pulling off his shirt. Throwing it somewhere in the room, (Y/N) didn't have a chance to catch the landing before he was crowding around her once more. 
"Trying to get me naked?" he murmured, a teasing thread through his tone, "Think 'm that easy, love?" 
"I'm hoping," she smiled, pecking a messy kiss to the corner of his mouth. She could taste the smear of her lipstick on his skin. 
Chasing after her mouth, he trailed his lips over her cheek, following the line of her cheekbone. Whispering to her, lips brushing her ear, he said, "Y'want me, baby? Tell me." 
Between the press of his covered cock against her pussy, the rumble of his voice through her chest and against the shell of his ear, her eyes fluttered to a close. Her mouth was dropped in a gape, her breathing stilted. 
"I want you," she said, suddenly breathless, "I-I've thought about this before." 
She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Yeah? What've y'thought about, baby?" 
"Yeah," she repeated dazedly, sucking in a harsh gasp when ground down hard between her legs. "I—um—I wondered if all the stories were true. If-if you are really like how everyone says." 
"Is that why y'dressed like this tonight? Hoping you'd find out for yourself?" 
She didn't want to melt over how cocky he was, how sure of himself over assuming she had dressed with him in mind. But, he was right—she wanted him to at least see her, remember her if she was lucky enough. Only in her wildest dreams did she imagine her cutout crop top and tight pants would land her here. 
With her eyes still closed, she nodded her head. "I wanted to know if your songs were true." 
"Which ones?" 
"The ones," she stalled when she felt his hand slip between their bodies, tickling over soft curves of her body until he reached the apex of her thighs.  "Um—the ones about... You sing a lot about eating pussy." 
His laugh was warm, bubbling over her. "I do, don't I?"
"Almost two albums worth," she teased, a lighthearted tone running under her words before she was cut off. 
Between her legs, he made no ceremony of the way he pulled her panties to the side and dragged his fingers through her folds. It wasn't until he split her open that she realized just how wet she'd become. Slick noises from between her legs filled the bedrooms, two of Harry's fingers slipping through her slit in long strokes, prodding at her weeping hole and nudging her clit, in a smooth circuit. 
"What did y'think about when you'd hear those songs?" Harry asked as if she had any mind left to comprehend anything but his touch.
Squeezing her eyes shut when he circled her clit in a teasing touch, she dug her nails into the strapping muscles of his biceps. Under her hands she could feel the way the hand between her legs had his arm flexing with every movement.
"Huh?" 
Through a smile he pressed a messy kiss to the space before her ear. "What did y'think about when y'had your fingers in your pussy?" 
The blunt wording had her insides tightening, a squeeze she was sure he could feel as he brushed over her opening. 
"How did I fuck you in your pretty head, hm? Tell me, baby." 
Her mouth had a mind of its own as she started blabbering off without a thought. "Hard—You'd fuck me hard. I-I'd let you do anything to me, daddy." 
His hand between her legs lagged, lingering close to her clit but not close enough. "What was that?" 
"What?" she mumbled, turning her head in hopes of catching him in a kiss. 
Harry pulled away, just out of reach though he kept his hooded eyes on hers. "What did y'jus' say?" 
Blinking at his question, she attempted to cast her mind back enough to catch any memory of what she said. It dawned on her slowly, the kind of word she let slip from her imagination and into the real world. 
"Um," she floundered, skin flushing in a different way than just a heartbeat before. 
His smile grew, lopsided and entertained over her tied tongue. Leaning over her, he nudged his nose against hers, the full of his lips just barely brushing over hers. 
"Y'called me daddy." 
(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Her hands tightened around his biceps. 
"Say it again, baby." 
Her mouth dropped into a gape. He wanted her to say it again?
"What?" 
"Say it again," he murmured, his voice melding with the crackly tape soundtracking this moment, "'S alright—I know y'want to." 
How was she supposed to say no to that?
Hyperaware of the way her voice wrapped around the word, she hoped it would be just as intriguing to him this second time. 
"Daddy." 
A rumbling moan left his chest just before he dove down, slotting his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Between her legs, he didn't hesitate before he slipped his fingers inside. The length of the digits were fit snug inside, opening her up as he gave a few cursory thrusts through. She could barely even kiss him back, her face screwing up in pleasure at the jolting touch with her lips parting. Harry slipped his tongue inside, licking over her own as he stroked his fingers through her pulsing walls.
Her breathing completely stalled when he curled his fingers, the calloused pads pressing into the spongy spot hidden among her walls. There were only a few times when she'd had the patience to find the spot herself, her memories of the sensation paling in comparison to what was happening to her now. Instinctively, she wanted to close her thighs, keep his hand from moving anywhere away from her. Harry's free hand came down and cupped the soft inside of her thigh, and splayed her legs open wide for him. 
"Again," he ordered, the command falling on her tongue. 
It didn't take a single thought before she was falling to his instruction. "Daddy—fuck." 
"Feel good, baby?" he crooned, breathy and heated against her mouth. 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she whined. 
"I bet it does," he teased, "Can barely keep still for me, huh? For daddy?"
 Her stomach wound itself tight at the sound of his accent, the same voice she'd listened to through her headphones and the crackles of her record player, wrapped around the title. This was what her fantasies were made of. 
"Liked that?" he drawled, a sly smile working onto her lips, "Could feel how much y'liked that. Is this what y'thought about when you'd fuck yourself, baby?" 
Rocking her hips up into his hand, he never lagged on circling the spongy wall inside her, only breaking when he opted to thrust deep inside to keep her on edge. His palm was pressed headily against her clit, the heel smeared heavily over it with every lingering stroke through her insides. 
"Al-always you," she breathlessly admitted, "Always wanted you there with me." 
"I know, baby. Y'need me, huh?" 
"Yes, daddy," she panted, eyes rolling to the back of her head. 
Dropping his forehead to rest on the apple of her cheek, she felt Harry's own heavy breaths  sweeping over her heated skin. "You're gonna come for me, baby. I want y'to come on m'fingers, then 'm gonna fuck you like y'want."  
He didn't give her any room to respond as he kept his palm heavy on her clit and drilled the pads of his fingers to the sensitive spot inside her. He didn't relent, her senses becoming overwhelmed with nothing but him. Even the sheets smelled of him, there was nowhere she could turn without finding more of him to pull in. 
Her toes curled as she allowed herself to sink into the pleasure brewing in her stomach, her nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. She could feel her insides tightening, ribboning together in a contracting bow. (Y/N) wasn't even sure if her lungs were working around the pounding of her heart, her breathing shallow. 
Suddenly, the pleasure she was feeling and floating in was too much. Her muscles were bunched almost too tight, snug around his fingers and sucking him in as if there were more to be taken.
Letting go of his arm, she reached for his wrist for an anchor. "I—Wa—Harry, I—" 
"I know, baby, I know," he breathed, shifting until he caught her swollen lips in a kiss, "You're gonna squirt f'me, yeah? Make a mess with me." 
"I—I've never—I can't—"
"You can. You can and you will, baby. Squirt for daddy." 
The culmination of the way he talked to her—the rockstar she'd admired for years—the weight of his body pinning her to the mattress, the sound of his unreleased music filtering through the heated room, and every stroke of his fingers through her pulsing walls had her giving way to his command. 
(Y/N) swore every bit of her body bunched, her hand tight around the bones of his wrist, toes curls, and eyes squeezed shut. Harry never relented, working her through the heaviest weight in her stomach. In a heartbeat, everything her body was squeezing, holding inside herself, let go. 
A gush came from between her legs, rushing out around the plug of his fingers in her pussy. Every shallow motion of his hand against her went from slick to completely wet sounding, every beat of his fingers coaxing another rush of cum from her. 
With her mouth dropped in a wordless gape, (Y/N) felt Harry's eyes on her with the way her skin buzzed, hyperaware. Her mind was cast elsewhere, miles away with her body anchored right where she was underneath him. She wasn't sure when she would come back—if she even wanted to with the way the feeling washed over each of her nerve endings. 
"Look at that," he murmured in awe, his voice finally sounding like more than a rumble through the rushing heartbeat in her ears. "Jus' like I asked. So good, baby. So good f'me." 
The descent was slow, the aftershock of her orgasm lingering in her bones until it finally relented enough for her to crack her eyes open. Harry looked down at her, satisfied with dark eyes trained on her features. With a jolting touch to her clit, he pulled his hand out from her pulsing walls, leaving her swollen and sensitive between her thighs. 
She could feel the inside of her thighs slick with her release, Harry's hand that landed on her hip just as sticky. Dipping his head down, he caught her in a languid kiss, nose nudging the bridge of hers. He was a bit too proud of himself, she thought, a dazed smile touching her lips. 
"Told you, y'could," he mumbled into her kiss, "Gotta listen to me more, hm?" 
"Maybe next time," she sighed, too out of it to try too hard to play along. 
"Maybe, next time," he repeated, letting out a plume of laughter for the both of them. Letting go of her hip, she could feel Harry fiddling with the waist of his pants, fingertips brushing against her sensitive core. "Ready f'me to fuck you? 
Her lashes fluttered in a blink, remembering his promise of giving her more tonight. Peering down at where his hands pushed down the band of his pants, she watched as his cock bobbed against his toned stomach. It was flushed red, head ruddy and slick with a vein vining along the shaft. A pearl of precum clung to the blocked muscles of his abs, where the length hit high under his navel. 
Just the sight of his hard cock had her stomach twining once more. Truthfully, she wouldn't have imagined anything less—not with the way he carried himself. 
"Baby," Harry sang, grabbing her attention, "Are y'ready? Gotta say it—tell me y'want me." 
Whatever he saw on her face was enough to have a dimple denting his cheek, more than satisfied with the desire in her eyes. "I want you," she said, despite the quivering muscles in her thighs, "Please, daddy." 
His features shifted at her words, darkening as his eyes dragged heavily over her body. The way he looked at her was enough to have goosebumps on her skin, lungs squeezing. 
"Think 'm gonna fit?" he crooned, fisting his length as he dragged the crown through her slit. 
Before she could answer, he laid his cock against the small of her stomach, lining it up to show just how far inside he would reach once sinking in. His balls pressed against her clit, setting a jolt up her spine. She could feel him throbbing, matching the rhythm of her heart. 
"We-We'll make it fit." 
His laugh was melodious, lighthearted amongst the atmosphere cultivated between them. He cut himself off when he reared his hips back and nudged the head of his cock against her opening, a soft wet noise slicking through the room. Nothing seemed to be too funny, then. 
Reaching for the wrist to the hand keeping her thighs spread, (Y/N) anchored herself to him with the grip. She felt her walls split open as he pushed through, the flare of his head nudging through the squeezing pulses. A lingering whine sung from her throat, breathless and pitched.
Harry seemingly held his breath as he bottomed out inside her, his base smearing against her clit. He reached the farthest parts of her, crowding in her stomach.  A whine of his name fell from her lips, her head falling back into the mattress with her eyes falling closed. 
Falling over her, Harry rested his forehead on the shelf of her collarbones, a heavy breath fanning across her heated skin. The press of his body atop hers was a comforting weight, keeping her wriggling form steady among the sheets. 
A whispered curse was felt against her skin just before Harry reared his hips back. The slide of his cock through her walls gave a pleasant burn, reminding her just how far she was stretching to fit him in. The slick of her gushing orgasm was more than enough to help him through the pulsing, wet noises sodding from where their bodies joined. 
Just as she adjusted to the slide of his length, Harry thrusted forward once more, keeping her stretched around him. He curated a rhythm, spearing through her in lingering draws. The breath was knocked out of her everytime, matching the heavy breaths Harry panted. 
"So wet for me, baby," he murmured, voice strained, "Fuck—Gonna make y'squirt for me again, yeah? Gonna do it again for daddy?" 
A loud moan filtered from her, reverberating through her chest with her head thrown back. This wasn't going to take long, she was sure. She was already twisted up inside, incredibly sensitive given the kind of pleasure he'd given her just minutes before. Every time he pulled out, leaving just his tip inside, the ridge ground against the spongy spot hidden between her walls. As soon as he sank inside, her clit was pressed against his base. Each touch stole her breath, lungs stilted. 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she frantically agreed, "I—I'm so close—fuck."
 "I know y'are," he crooned, teeth gritted, "'M gonna—Where do y'want me, baby? 
Her answer was immediate, a breathy moan, "My tits."
She could feel the way he twitched inside her, nudging hard against her snug walls. "I can do that for you, baby. Is thi-this what you've thought about—what y'wanted when y'came to m'show tonight?" 
Reaching up and looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close once more, their mouths resting against one another though there was no energy to be had to turn it into a kiss. "You made me so wet during the show," she admitted, the words sweeping across his mouth, "I wanted you to fuck me so bad." 
His hips bucked harshly against her own. "As soon as I saw you," he started, his voice graveled, "I knew I was taking y'home tonight." 
He caught her in a kiss, messy and off-centered. He plucked his teeth against her bottom lip, the sting running down her spine in a clarifying jolt. She wrapped her legs around his hips, ankles crossing behind his back as he kept her close, disrupting his rhythm. Her toes curled as his thrusts turned into lingering rolls against her, shooting his head deeper. 
This time, the growing spiral in her stomach came on quickly. The knot she was now familiar with built quickly, heavy and tight with every grind of his base against her clit. It was all too much, enough to have her crying into his mouth. 
"Squirt for me, baby," he murmured, coaxing her closer to the edge with every rumble of his voice, "Show daddy how much y'want me." 
She didn't have to think—unable to think—her orgasm came rushing. Though it wasn't quite as messy as the first time, she could still feel the gush between her legs, fighting against the plug of his cock. It was hard and fast, knocking the breath out of her to leave her mouth dropped in a silent gape. 
It wasn't until she was beginning to see the other side that she heard Harry's voice, a string of curses, coming out through gritted teeth, could be heard. She was still high in the clouds when he pulled out, shifting up to his knees on the bed until he was hovering above her. Cracking her eyes open, she could see the same wild look in his eyes that she was sure was in hers, dazed and out of this world. 
Fisting his length, his hand squelched along his shaft for only a handful of pumps until his cum gushed over her. Just as she asked, the ropes landed across her chest. Her skin was already heated enough, but the trails he left over her breasts were that much more. The sight of him working his own cock was enough to have her breathless once more, though her body was too sensitive to feel anything but a jolt through her nerve endings. 
Harry with his head thrown back, moaned out her name and strings of curses. Even these moments sounded like notes, perfect for setting to music. 
Once the world came back into focus, (Y/N) could feel cum drying on her chest, her own wetness sticking to the inside of her thighs. Harry dropped to the mattress beside her, chest heaving and flushed. His eyes were closed though his head was turned to face her, raspberry lips swollen and parted. 
With the limited light from the lamp, he was bathed in buttery warmth. His chest sparkled with a sheen of sweat, droplets having run between the blocks of muscle underneath the inked lines of his tattoos. 
He took his time joining her back in this moment, his eyes shuttered closed as he ran her eyes over his features. If she had a camera with her, she would have had to take a shot of this—the moment pretty enough to end up as an album cover. The haze in her head did little to stop her from reaching out and tracing her fingertips over his face, just barely grazing her skin in glancing touches. 
A blooming smile made its way onto his lips, dimples denting his cheeks.  
"C'mere," he murmured, voice graveled and rocky. 
Despite the drying cum on her skin, Harry welcomed her into his arms, settling her against his chest. Holding her close, he nosed at the top of her head, uncaring about the sweat entwined in the strands of her hair. 
(Y/N) practically melted into his hold. She hadn't expected cuddling was a part of the package tonight. 
Her body grew heavy in his hold, the night's events catching up to her. Even without everything happening in this hotel—from the party to being invited into his suite—she had also been to a concert tonight, flush to the barricade. Her body was spent, even if her head pinged with reminders of just who had made it that way. 
It wasn't until the crackling stopped that she realized that the tape finally ended, needing to be replaced or turned to the other side. She couldn't even be bummed that she missed out on these unreleased tracks. She'd hear them again someday, probably. She wouldn't have this night again. 
She wasn't sure how long they laid with one another, cuddled and messy, before Harry's voice poked through the silence. 
"What are y'doing this summer?" 
A plume of laughter left her lips. Now was the time for small talk? 
"I don't know," she smiled, "Why?" 
Playing with the ends of her hair, Harry's tone was casual as he spoke, "Well, m'next show is this Saturday. Y'coming with me?" 
Her heart lagged. 
"What?" 
It was his turn to let out a breathy laugh. "I want y'to come with me, love. We could do this every night for as long as y'want." 
Before she could think better of it, another question blurted from her lips. "Why?" 
Harry paused. "Y'make me laugh—and cum faster than I should, but don't tell anyone that." 
In the dark of his suite, clothes puddled on the floor and bodies sticky, (Y/N) couldn't wait to pick up a diary just to write out how they laughed together. 
"You're that easy?" 
"I suppose I am, love." 
—————
its been a super long time since I wrote something with the plain intent of writing smut so I hope this turned out well shufshfuhs thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or requests!
976 notes · View notes
lqveharrington · 5 days ago
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Golden Snitch | D.M.
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summary: You don’t tell Draco what you’re dressing up as, and when he sees you, he can’t help but be enamored.
pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader
includes: kissing, underage drinking, talks of sex, cursing
a/n: holding a poll for a similar imagine but a different character! (will post the other imagine in two days and poll in three!)
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Halloween was a big thing at Hogwarts. Each house held their own parties and own costume competitions; There would be snacks — courtesy of the kitchen elves — and drinks smuggled in from home or Hogsmeade. It was one of the best nights throughout the school year.
From your fourth year to your very last, you enjoyed every single second. Of course, you were dressed differently every year in hopes to win the costume contests. You were the Corpse Bride, then Dorothy, then a pirate. But this year, you chose something a little closer to Hogwarts itself.
“You know we have to get down there now if you want to be in the competition, right?” Pansy flicked her hair back and adjusted her Cher outfit.
You huffed and finished the last bits of gold adorning your cheeks. You loved Pansy, you really did, but jesus, she was a stickler to rules and schedules sometimes.
“Look, I’m done now.” You dust your hands off and arrange your golden wings to be more presentable. “How do I look?”
“Hot.” Her eyes roamed over your body and winked at you. “Draco will totally drool.”
You send her an amused smile before rushing out the dorm hand in hand. When you got to the Slytherin common room, everyone and everything was already upbeat. The lights had been dimmed even more and green lights were casted all around. The floor was sticky in spilt drinks and the room reeked of sex.
"Let's go get drinks!" Pansy shouted over the loud music and elbowed her way through the mass of Slytherin students, gagging when one couple was getting too intimate on the dance floor. "I am so happy you and Draco have boundaries!"
You roll your eyes at her and grab a plastic cup, filling it with firewhisky and downing it fast enough to forget what Pansy had said. She gave you an unimpressed look and took her own shot.
After joining the infamous costume contest and winning, mingling with the others and downing more drinks, a fifth year finally announced the arrival of the Slytherin Prince himself. And the party only got rowdier from there.
The second the blonde stepped into the common room, drinks were shoved into his hands; A courtesy of Blaise. Draco made his way over to the group of seventh years he deemed his friends since childhood before his eyes landed on you.
His eyes roamed across your body. From the golden makeup adorning your gorgeous face to the golden dress that hugged your curves and accentuated them, it was like he fell in love all over again. He watched you down another drink and shook his head in amusement. You looked so confident and happy and excited and ethereal in what you wore that he wanted to keep you all to himself.
“Well, what do we have here?” His free hand found its way to the curve of your hip and pulled you close to him, smirking when your eyes get blown wide at his sudden presence. “You look ravishing.”
“I know. I won the competition like always.” You brag as you murmur and wrap a hand around his tie, softly tugging on it so you could meet his lips without needing to strain. “And who are you supposed to be?”
“James Bond.” He pulled you even closer, wanting to be completely flush against you. “But I should’ve worn my Quidditch uniform because I believe I have my eye on the golden snitch.”
The smile that graced your lips practically emits warmth when you realize Draco knew what you were. “You should probably keep your sight on her because she’s not straying far.”
“Better not.” He planted a mind searing kiss to your lips and thumbed the costume, parting when he felt how rough it was. “Your dress feels uncomfortable to the touch, love. It’s not real gold, is it?”
“No, not all of it. Daddy wouldn’t let me get one.” You sigh as you lean your head on his chest and hiccup when he pats your ass softly at the remark.
Draco could practically see the flashing signs around you saying how plastered you were, and it was truly entertaining at the most. He knew you were drunk when you flaunted your father’s money around, which you typically never do. He finished his cup before tossing it somewhere, holding your hip with two hands now.
You look up at him at the movement, wide eyes only reflecting your pupils. “What?”
“Nothing, love. Just admiring.” He scanned your body once more and planted a kiss to the top of your head. “How many drinks have you had so far?”
You shrug and gasp when someone poured a fresh round right behind Draco. “Let’s go get some more!”
He shook his head and locked his arms behind you, “No more for you. You are so fucking drunk.”
“I am not!” You huff and almost stomp your golden heel on the ground like a spoiled child. “Blaise and Pansy are! They’re practically fucking behind you!”
Draco pursed his lips and pulled you away from the center of the common room. It was funny how only during Halloween you would be more drunk than he was. Any other time, he would be absolutely plastered and ready to throw you over his shoulder for some quality time in the bedroom. Besides, he was also drunk, but not as drunk as you were at the moment.
“Hey—!” You whine and stumble up the staircase to his dorm. “Where are we going?”
“You’re done for tonight, my love.” He opened his shared dorm and quickly shut it behind him, quieting the room from the loud mass of music and people downstairs.
You blink at the sudden quietude and look up at him with eyes that made him want to abandon everything and take you there. Draco cleared his throat and adjusted himself, rubbing his palms against his eyes.
“Let’s get you changed into comfortable clothing, yeah?” He dug through his clothes to find a sweater and guided you toward the bathroom, flicking the light on.
“Draco?” You mumble as he sat you down on the counter and pulled your golden pumps off. “Draco.”
“Yes, baby?” He look up at you from his kneeled position, eyes equally blown wide. “What is it?”
You blink again and just watch him for a little longer, keeping eye contact with the blonde. Even in your intoxicated state you still found time to admire him.
“Nothing.” You sent him a cheeky smile at his expression, taking off your golden wings and handing them to him.
He stood from his spot and kissed your shoulder, “Do you wanna shower or go straight to bed?”
“Bed.” You yawn.
Draco hummed and helped your stand, slowly removing your dress and replacing it with his quidditch sweater. You smiled tiredly and leaned your body against his when he began wiping the makeup off your face, playing with the end of his tie.
“You remembered.” You murmur sleepily, blindly reaching for your toothbrush you kept in the boys dorm.
“I’ve been doing this for two years straight, I think I would know.” He handed you your toothbrush and toothpaste before removing the rest of your makeup and golden pins from your hair. “There.”
“Thank you.” You spoke with your toothbrush still in your mouth and leaned against the counter as Draco moved around you to change.
When you were both settled into bed, you wanted to just fall asleep right then and there, but you still had one thing to do. Your body was practically on top of his when you thought of it, your head rested on his bare shoulder.
“Draco?” You murmur and trace hearts on his chest, splaying your hand over his beating heart.
“Yeah?” He tilted his head over to you, resting his cheek on the top of your head.
“Happy third year anniversary.” You smile softly and fiddle with the promise ring he got you years ago.
“Happy anniversary, my love.” He hugged you tighter, head now buried in your shoulder and neck. “Thank you for being amazing.”
You kiss his cheek and sigh, “I love you.”
“I love you more than you could ever know.” Draco murmured and kissed you properly. “Cheers to three years.”
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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months ago
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Harry holding his bubba for the first time. 🥹
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Daddy’s Little Girl.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here.
authors note - when i said i wanted to write something cutesy, this was exactly what i envisioned so thanks to the anon that suggested this. 😊
word count - 1.1k
in which, harry holding his baby for the first time is everything he had wished for and more.
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“Would dad like to have a hold?”
The room is filled with a quiet, serene energy, a sense of calm and exhaustion mingling with the first light of dawn seeping through the hospital blinds.
You lie back against the pillows, still catching your breath, the surreal experience of childbirth washing over you in waves.
Harry is by your side, holding your hand with a mixture of awe and concern in his eyes.
The midwife stands nearby, cradling your baby girl.
Harry glances at you, his eyes wide and uncertain. He swallows hard, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "I, uh, I don’t know. I've never done this before."
You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
"Neither have I," you say softly, a touch of humor in your voice. "But she's our little girl. You'll be great."
He nods slowly, his hesitation still evident. The midwife suggests he take his shirt off for skin-to-skin contact, explaining how important it is for bonding.
He releases your hand reluctantly and stands up, the nerves showing in his every movement.
Harry pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest, and takes a deep breath. He glances at you one more time, and you see the determination set in his eyes.
He walks over to the sofa in the corner of the room, sitting down carefully, his muscles tense.
The first rays of the sun are starting to paint the room in a soft, golden light. It feels like the beginning of a new day, a new chapter. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick and palpable.
You watch as the midwife brings your daughter closer to him. You can see the fear and excitement battling within him, but there's also a deep, overwhelming love that you recognize all too well. It’s the same feeling you've been enveloped in since the moment you saw her.
The midwife smiles at Harry, recognizing his nervousness.
"It's okay, Mr. Styles. I'll guide you," she reassures him. "Just relax and take a deep breath."
Harry nods, taking a steadying breath as she positions herself beside him, your baby girl nestled in her arms.
"Support her head with one hand," she instructs, "and use your other arm to cradle her body."
Harry follows her guidance, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out. The midwife gently transfers your daughter into his arms, helping him adjust his hold until she is securely nestled against his chest.
You can see the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he looks down at her tiny, perfect face.
"See?" the midwife says softly. "You're doing great. Just keep her close, and she'll feel your warmth and heartbeat."
Harry looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of tears and amazement.
"She's so small," he whispers, as if afraid to speak too loudly and break the spell of the moment.
"She is," you reply, your voice choked with emotion. "But she's perfect."
He leans back against the sofa, holding your daughter close, his eyes never leaving her face.
The early morning light casts a soft glow around them, making the moment feel almost magical.
"Hey, little one," Harry murmurs, his voice tender and filled with wonder.
You feel your heart swell with love as you watch them together, the bond between father and daughter already forming in these first precious moments. Harry's initial hesitation has melted away, replaced by a profound sense of connection and protectiveness.
The midwife steps back, giving you both space to absorb the beauty of this moment.
"I'll give you some time alone," she says quietly, slipping out of the room with a gentle smile.
As the door closes softly behind the midwife, the room settles into a peaceful quiet, the only sound the gentle breathing of your newborn daughter nestled against Harry’s chest.
Harry looks down at your baby girl, his eyes brimming with tears that reflect the deep emotions surging within him. He gently adjusts his hold on her, making sure her tiny head is supported securely. His fingers brush lightly over her soft, downy hair, his touch feather-light and full of wonder.
"Hey there, pickle," he begins, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's Daddy. I've been waiting to meet you for so long."
A tear rolls down his cheek, but he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, he continues, his gaze never leaving her tiny face. "You know, when I first found out about you, I was scared. I didn’t know if I could be a good dad. But the moment I saw you, all of that fear just disappeared."
He pauses, taking a shaky breath, his eyes glistening. "You’re so beautiful, so perfect. I can't believe you're finally here. Your mum and I, we’ve dreamed about this moment for so long. And now, looking at you, I realise that all those dreams couldn’t come close to how amazing you really are."
Another tear slips down his face, and he chuckles softly, his smile radiant despite the tears. "I promise you, little one, I’ll always be here for you. To protect you, to guide you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve already made my world a better place just by being in it."
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his tears mingling with the softness of her skin. "We’re going to have so many adventures together, you and me. And I can’t wait to show you all the wonders of this world. But for now, just rest, my love. We’ve got all the time in the world."
You watch, your own tears flowing freely, as Harry continues to speak softly to your daughter, his voice a soothing melody of promises and dreams. The love and devotion in his words wrap around you both, creating a cocoon of warmth and security.
"And always remember," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "no matter what, you’ll always be loved. By me, by your mum, by everyone lucky enough to know you. Welcome to the world, my precious girl. We’ve been waiting for you, and we love you more than you’ll ever know."
Harry looks up at you again, a tear escaping down his cheek.
"Thank you," he says softly, his voice breaking. "For her. For everything."
You had your own tears rolling down your cheeks at this point, the emotions of childbirth and seeing the love of your life hold your brand new bundle of joy was enough to have you sobbing.
“She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.” You smiled at him softly.
“What can i say,” He bit his bottom lip to stop more tears. “She’s daddy’s little girl.”
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meetmymouth · 1 year ago
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cuore mio
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from the series theadora.
for anon. smut. oral (f receiving), spitting, daddy kink, public sex.
"They're– Harry," she pushes his head away, and Harry lets out a groan, lips still puckered and wet from his kisses. "They're there..."
He looks up at the crowd in question.
Everyone's either drunk or too hot to care about anything around them. They're either singing, reading, or just taking a nap. He bites his bottom lip, looks around the small deck area they're on, and spots her beach towel she's been using as a pillow as she sunbathed before Harry interrupting her.
She watches him yank the towel away from where it's been sitting, and he opens it.
"What are you doing?" She laughs, eyes darting between the towel and Harry's boney fingers as he places it over their laps. "We look suspicious as fuck."
"They don't care," he murmurs into her neck, grabbing her by the side of it to move her closer to his face.
His kisses are slow, practiced, and wet. He smells of the beach, and the sunscreen she'd put on him a few hours ago.
And a bit of sweat.
She grabs him by the back of his neck, suddenly feeling too brave, and he opens his mouth, tongue finding hers as he sucks it into his own mouth. He smiles into the wet kiss, smiles at the noises she's making, knowing full-well he's got her under his spell.
Harry moves to her chin, then the side of her chin, her neck, then back up. He kisses her cheek with open-mouth kisses, and she giggles, hands grabbing him roughly, pressing him into her.
He lets out a growl when her hand touches his belly, then his cock over the shorts he's wearing. "You're so fuckin' hot," he whispers, forehead pressed against the crook of her neck. "So fuckin' hot."
"You are," she whispers, eyes trying to find his gaze.
He looks feral, eyes darting between each and every feature on her face.
He looks like a man on mission.
His hands say so.
"Yeah?" He bites the side of her neck. Hard. "I'm hot?"
She nods, watching his hand disappear under the towel.
She knows what's coming.
His warm hand cups her pussy over the tiny bikini bottoms she has on, and he lets out a moan, clearly not liking the fact that he has to work with yet another layer.
"Yes," she nods, voice quiet. "You're so hot, H."
"God– fuck," he bites into her shoulder, teeth almost breaking the skin. His fingers work the bikini bottoms and finally, they're pushed to the side, creating access for his long fingers. "You're so fuckin' wet."
She hides her face in the crook of his neck, smelling him, the smell of beach and sweat, and Harry retracts his fingers, quickly bringing them up to his mouth. He looks up at their friends, then back at her, and puts his fingers in his mouth, then moves his hand back under the towel.
She opens her legs wider, as discreetly as she can, and he breathes into her neck while his fingers rubs her pussy. He finds his rhythm quickly, the way she likes it, and she can't help but grab his other hand and place his fingers into her mouth. He rubs her pussy with his middle finger, bringing her slick up and down, and she bites his fingers in hopes of staying quiet.
She feels the coil in her stomach, so deep inside, and when he finds her hole, his palm pressing against her clit every time he pumps his fingers in and out, she feels like something gives up inside her. She feels hot, too hot, and she feels as though she's going to pee if Harry doesn't slow down.
She says as much while he licks the underside of her ear, lips then finding her earlobe and sucking on it as his fingers fucks into her harshly.
"Slower," she manages to whisper into his fingers. She licks them, kisses them, and Harry can't help but nod, hand going to wrap around her neck in a practiced manner.
His thumb strokes the side of her neck while he fucks into her with his long fingers, wet lips kissing and sucking on her warm, probably-sweaty skin.
"I love you," he chokes out, palm still creating friction against her clit. "I love you so much," he whispers, lips finding hers again.
She answers back, with her own kisses, wet mouths creating obscene sounds, and they're lucky Xander has decided to play music very loudly in the distance.
"Harry," a breath leaves her mouth, teeth clinking together, and he nods.
"Oh God," she fights his kisses, feeling too much all at once, and she leans her head back as Harry follows.
It's like he can't get enough of her mouth.
He abuses her lips with his, wet kisses all over her face, her mouth, and she feels his spit running down her chin, so she lets out another moan, hips already bucking up to meet the thrust of his fingers.
She feels it on the tips of her toes, her hands, her stomach.
Her cunt.
Everything feels on fire.
She's on fire.
"Gonna come for me?" Harry asks, voice raspy and low, and he licks the saliva that's running down her chin back into her mouth. He's clearly not looking for a response as he kisses her.
She can't help but nod weakly still, hand pressed against his. Then, she moves it to his upper body, fingers finding his pecks as she strokes the hair on his chest, then holds onto his necklace as he keeps fucking and rubbing her cunt.
"Come on," he nods, hair falling against his sweat-covered forehead. "Gonna come for me? For Daddy?"
"Oh fuck– fuckfuckfuck I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"Yeah, that's it," his abuse on her cunt becomes rough, almost more focused. Feral. He fucks another finger into her pussy as she squeezes around his fingers, and she moves her hips against his palm as she begins coming undone. "That's my girl. That's my good fuckin' girl," he bites her chin, making her lean into the touch. "Doesn't even care that we're in public..."
She feels like she's in a dream, Harry's fingers still deep inside her.
"No..." she moans– whispers more like.
"No," Harry agrees, forehead pressing in the crook of her neck. He licks there once, then leaves a kiss. "She doesn't care. You'll give it to me whenever and wherever we are, won't you, baby?"
"I love you," she nods, feeling cold all of a sudden, despite his fingers being inside her.
She feels him smile against her neck, and he looks up. "I love you. So much."
"Yeah?" She feels the need to ask. Again.
"I love you so, so fuckin' much," he kisses her cheek, his free hand wiping the saliva off her chin, and cheeks. "You're my heart."
"I am?"
"You are. You are everything."
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lilystyles · 7 months ago
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blank space.
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part three of style, written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333
brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.
warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.
It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.
Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.
Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.
But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.
He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.
Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.
But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to. 
If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow. 
He wanted her so badly.
Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.
And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.
His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.
However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.
Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.
Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.
He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.
But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.
Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working. 
In.
Out.
In. 
Out.
As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.
This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.
And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop. 
He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.
He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other. 
Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.
Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.
So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.
Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.
Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.
Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.
“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.
Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.
Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.
“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?
“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.
Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.
His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.
Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.
Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.
Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.
He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.
She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.
Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.
“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.
He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.
“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.
She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”
Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word. 
“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”
She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much. 
“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.
“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.
She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”
Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”
She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.
And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.
“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.
“You so are.” He replied.
She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.
The devil had a magic spell on the angel.
“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.
Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.
She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.
She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”
He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”
She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.
It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”
She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”
She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how. 
Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’
Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”
Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off. 
“Oops.” She giggled.
“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.
“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.
He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”
She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.
They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.
“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.
He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes. 
“Anything?” He asked mischievously. 
She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”
He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.
His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.
She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.
His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.
As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.
Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.
Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.
With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.
Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.
Harry shifted his hips to move with hers  “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.
Oh shit.
“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was. 
He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.
Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.
Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??” 
Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”
Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh. 
“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.
Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.
“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed. 
Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there. 
“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”
Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest. 
She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”
Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”
Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”
Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.
Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”
He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”
Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.
Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”
He just nodded, and let out a breath.
“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.
He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.
“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.
They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.
All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?
She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.
But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings. 
The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.
She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.
Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.
Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.
Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?
He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”
She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”
He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”
She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.
She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.
She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her? 
“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.
He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.
He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”
Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”
She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking. 
“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”
The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n. 
Her heart practically stopped.
He’d liked her too? 
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 
Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession. 
He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.
“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”
He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”
He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”
Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.
Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”
He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response. 
“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.
He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment. 
Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.
“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.
She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”
He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised. 
“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.
She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”
This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him? 
She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face. 
“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.
In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.
Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.
A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.
This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”
A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”
That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?
He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome. 
“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again. 
She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her. 
She was so adorable. 
Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip. 
“Take this off,” She sighed.
He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.
His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.
She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.
He leaned down now, almost face to face.
“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.
He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.” 
She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”
He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.
“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.
Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.
Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.
His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.
His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.
“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly. 
“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.
“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.
He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.
She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.
His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”
One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.
When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.
“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.
One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.
He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry. 
“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.
He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”
And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.
“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.
She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl. 
He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath. 
The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.
Her.
When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.
“Sensitive,” She whispered.
He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”
She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him. 
His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.
Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.
As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.
“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.
“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.
“Can I suck you off?”
He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”
She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.
She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.
She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”
He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”
She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.
He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”
His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.
“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”
She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”
He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.
His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”
Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.
His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”
He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off. 
She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.
Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.
“You okay, Trouble?”
She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”
His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”
She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.
He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.
She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”
And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.
“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.
Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back. 
They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.
He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.
“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.
“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.
When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin. 
“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.
She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him. 
When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.
Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name. 
“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.
He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.
Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry. 
“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.
When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.
She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth. 
Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.
“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”
She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was. 
Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.
Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.
Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.
Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched. 
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”
Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.
“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.
“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.
She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.
It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.
 “Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.
Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.
And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show. 
But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.
He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.
As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry. 
Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her. 
Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class. 
Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing. 
She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.
The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.
And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.
Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.
“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.
Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”
“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked. 
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”
Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.
She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.
But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”
Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.
His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry. 
She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.
She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.
As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those! 
She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. 
“Take me home, Styles?”
So he did.
love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx
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