#Harry Styles Oneshot

[harrysonlylover]

Ride Along*

Summary: Y/n is feeling bored alone at her apartment, so Harry takes her for a ride.

A continuation to Discipline.

Trope: Agent Harry

WC: 6.3k

Warnings: mentions of speeding, a pinch of meanrry, smut, degradation, choking, face spitting, unprotected sex, implications of somnophilia, after care.

A/n: The writing is a bit rusty because it’s been a while since I wrote smut😬

Main Masterlist | Agent Harry Masterlist

Y/n was placed on house arrest by Harry for a week, and it was torturous.

Perhaps “house arrest” is a bit dramatic but she felt suffocated. She could leave her apartment whenever she wanted. Harry’s insistence on her relaxation was clear, and he only meant for her to avoid any activities that require physical exertion.

Anyone would be thrilled to have a week off from work, but it was rather confusing for Y/n. Although she hadn’t been an agent for long, she adapted quickly to the agent lifestyle which was hard to suddenly pause.

Even with Harry’s confirmation and reassurance that he wasn’t disappointed, she still felt the need to occupy her time with something useful.

There was absolutely nothing in her apartment that could pass away time. At least nothing that interested her. 

She cleaned up a bit, reorganized the living room, and stuck to the meals that Harry sent for her daily. They weren’t bad actually, except for the spinach soup that made her want to puke.

With no one accompanying her but Tim Tim and her thoughts, she realized how nice and caring it is to send someone customized meals. If someone heard her say it out loud, they’d snort in her face but—they just don’t know Harry and his personality.

He texted her every day at least twice. At first, she thought he only did so to make sure she ate the meals and took her supplement (which would be considered too kind coming from him), but slowly he began diverting from those topics asking her about her day and chatting with her.

He gave her updates on the agency and promised to pass by her apartment only to bail on her because of an emergency that required his presence.

On day 4 she was fully annoyed. She couldn’t handle being away from the agency for long, and even if she could go out and enjoy her time away—she didn’t know where to go.

She didn’t lead a normal life, no agent did and she was completely okay with it. She had no one to check up on or call to hang out with. The idea of going out somewhere alone felt weird. She would feel like an imposter amongst a sea of normal people.

She buried the eerie feelings and decided to spam Harry with texts to annoy him a bit. 

Y/n: I’m gonna pass by the agency :)

She pressed the send button and waited for his reply as she heated her lunch for the day.

His reply was almost automatic as if he didn’t have a load of responsibilities.

Harry: No.

Y/n: Yes.

Harry: I said no Y/n.

She huffed in frustration before remembering that if she could be a menace at the agency, then she could be a menace over text too.

Y/n: Too bad I’m already on my way.

Harry: Don’t test me.

Y/n: 😜

Harry: Are you disobeying me?

She choked on a piece of meat when she read his reply, and immediately reached for a cup of water. She wiped her mouth, staring at his text in confusion. It wasn’t strictly sexual, but it was a phrase that he always used during sex, because one thing that he combined between his professional and sex life was discipline, and Y/n adored it.

She loved his attitude, how he dared her to go against his orders or defy him. It wasn’t that she liked getting punished or sought pain—it was more of a need to observe him being dominant. The way he manhandled her and treated her like nothing but a toy, only for him to hold her to his chest right after.

Another text from Harry pulled her out of her fantasies and daydreams.

Harry: You’re well aware of how I feel about you disobeying me, right?

Y/n: Yes. I do.

Her response was automatic as if it was generated and not typed quickly by her. She wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.

Harry: Good Girl.

Motherfucker. He knew what he was doing. After all, he had her memorized by heart, and he probably was aware of how close she was to drooling. The meal in front of her didn’t appeal to her anymore because she had a different type of meal on her mind.

It had been a while since they hooked up and it was a rushed quickie behind closed doors at the agency. He kneeled on the ground to eat her out in no longer than five minutes before having to return to the training. He knew her body like the palm of his hand and had her panting and biting on her bottom lip in no time.

She adored it, really, but she craved the feeling of his cock driving into her as she held onto his body or while his hand wrapped itself around her neck with his mouth spewing the dirtiest sentences into her ear.

She sighed deeply reminiscing her adventurous sex life before he banished her to her apartment so she could rest. Was it a bit dramatic? Maybe. But she might be addicted to sex with him.

She glanced at his text knowing that he was probably smirking at his replies. He always knows how to get to her. She grabbed her phone and typed her reply because she was so fucking bored at the apartment and needed some fresh air.

Y/n: I’m still bored.

This time his reply wasn’t as quick as the previous one. It took him about five minutes to respond which was still fast considering how busy he was.

Harry: Okay. Go out.

Y/n: Wow! I didn’t think of that.

She scoffed at his dumb reply because who said that she was waiting for his approval?

Harry: Why didn’t you go out?

Y/n: I’m not sure…it feels weird…?

She could see the little dots that indicate that he was typing appearing only to disappear a few seconds later.

Harry: I’ll pick you up at 9. Dress comfortably.

When she complained about her boredom she thought that he would recommend her places to visit or give suggestions, not take her out. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she read his text. She wasn’t hallucinating, right?

Y/n: Where are we going?

Harry: Eat your lunch and take your supplement.

Y/n: Damn grumpy pants.

He didn’t reply to her after that but if he did she’s sure he would have sent a thumbs-up emoji even if it was out of context. She continued her meal just like he instructed her. The hold he had on her was unreal, and she was okay with it.

Harry was knocking on her door at exactly 9 PM. Not a minute later.

This time she didn’t welcome him in with a tear-stained face, and grumpy attitude. It was the entire opposite of it. The only thing that was similar to the previous time was her shock. Harry was dressed in all black and a leather jacket. His hair looked so fucking soft, and a hair strand fell on his forehead as he leaned against the door with his hands in his pockets. He was a sight for sore eyes, especially Y/n’s whose jaw almost dropped.

“Hello, little minx.” He grinned devilishly as he entered her apartment. His cologne had her knees buckling, reminding her of when she’d bury her face in his neck.

Black shirt, black pants, black boots, and a black leather shirt. He’s going to be the death of her, surely. He strolled in like he owned the place while she shamelessly stared at his body.

“Little minx…” He tutted, cornering her against the kitchen counter. “… sent me message after message today as if I don’t have a workload.” His tone made her feel like she was in trouble, but the good kind of trouble.

“But you still answered, no?” She replied confidently with a smirk to remind him of the hold that she also had on him, even if they never spoke about it directly.

He remained silent, offering her his cheesy smirk as his eyes raked over her face and neck like he was trying to come up with sinful scenarios. She was more addictive than any type of drug.

“Ready to hit the road?” He deviated from the topic skilfully while checking out her attire to make sure that she’d be comfortable during the ride.

“Hmm. Let’s go.” She walked in front of him like a princess, going down the stairs excitedly.

She stepped out to the street and looked around with a hint of a smile painted across her face. She could hear Harry’s boots behind her and smell his cologne that seemed to have stuck to her clothes.

“So…are we going to walk there?” She asked with confusion evident on her face.

“We’re riding there.” His response held a sense of pride as he grabbed her hand and walked down to the end of the street before taking a left and stopping.

A large black sports bike was parked in its glory itching for someone to take it for a ride. Y/n stood still in her place with her mouth wide open in shock. Harry was a motorcycle guy?

“Oh…wow.”

“Scared little minx?” He mused like it was so fun to see her reaction. He approached her from behind, bumping his body with hers and trapping her physically. She could feel him breathing against her neck as she swallowed down his throat. One touch from him and she’s paralysed.

He pressed a soft peck behind her ear before whispering. “Don’t worry… you’ll hold on to me.” She barely processed what he said as he immediately urged her forward and gave her a helmet to put on. She wore it as soon as he gave it to her to cover her facial expression from him. He helped her tie it up before placing his helmet on.

“C'mon hop on behind me.” He situated himself on the bike, and the more Y/n stared, the more the wetness between her thighs increased. Seeing him in all black was something but with a biker helmet on? She wanted to drop on her knees right there and then, but she didn’t.

Instead, she hopped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her grip was weak making him urge her to get closer and glue herself to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, it just made her ridiculously horny.

The feeling of hugging his muscular body with her core touching his lower back had her feeling some sort of way. She could feel his abs under her touch, and his cologne drifting in the air was not helping.

“I can’t even see anything because of your back!” While she joked about it, deep down she found it fucking hot. His broad back and shoulders blocked her view, and the only thing she could do was rest her head against it.

“I don’t hear you complaining when you’re scratching on it.” Even with his helmet on, she could feel him smirking.

She gave in to the feeling of his warm body against her as if he were shielding her from everything. It was not an ideal timing for her size kink to get activated, but she genuinely couldn’t help it.

“Hold on tight little minx.” The engine roared to life and Harry fixed his position before taking a turn and heading straight for the highway.

This was her first time on a motorcycle surprisingly. At first, her body was tense, and it didn’t feel nice. Despite having a helmet on, it felt like the wind was slapping her. Harry turned out to be a skilled biker who speeds for fun—still he was careful.

She eventually regulated her breathing and unclenched her jaw as she adapted to the adrenaline rush that she felt. It was an otherworldly feeling. She couldn’t tell what made her feel this way. Harry’s body against her, the evening breeze, or the rush of speeding.

No matter what it was, she felt amazing.

Harry wanted to taunt her in some way, preferably verbally—but she seemed like she was having fun, and her arms around him were a distraction. The feeling of her body clinging to him was priceless.

He tried to avoid speeding on the highway for her sake despite loving to do so. It was one of the things he resorted to when he needed a break from everything. Nothing could compare to the adrenaline rush he felt…maybe just Y/n’s lips.

He slowed down and took an exit on the highway that led them to a deserted road and ultimately a hill. He stopped and turned off the ignition before stepping off the bike.

“Fucking hell. Do you want to kidnap me?” Y/n joked as she looked around the dark and deserted space.

“If I want to kidnap you, little minx, I’ll simply carry you.” He chuckled as he took off his helmet and fixed his messy hair. She swallowed down her throat as she stared at him. Why did he have to look this good?

“C'mon.” He gestured for her to follow him, and she jogged to catch up. He placed his hand on her lower back to urge her forward. His body was dangerously close to her, and she could smell his cologne again. Harry’s hand itched to hold hers, but he wasn’t sure if she’d like that, so her lower back should suffice.

They took a small turn to the left as rocks crunched under their shoes. Harry wondered whether he should tell her to close her eyes or not. But if he does, then it’d sound romantic which crosses the boundaries of their physical relationship.

“It’s right…here.” They were met with a gorgeous view of the city. They could see almost all the lit buildings as if they were in the sky. It felt as if they were spying on the city with its lights and secrets. No one but them on the deserted hill.

“Wow..this is so beautiful”. Y/n gasped in shock at the view in front of her. She never expected Harry to take her to this spot-she didn’t even know it existed.

“I know.” If she wasn’t too occupied with the scenery, she would’ve noticed that Harry was in fact, staring at her with a smile on his face.

“How do you know this spot?” Y/n still couldn’t take her eyes off the shimmering buildings.

“I discovered it once by mistake, and I come here often.” He didn’t mention how this place was his escape from the world, or that he came here before heading to her apartment that day.

“It’s so nice.” Despite the darkness filling the space, Harry could still see and feel her smile.

He quickly got the bike so they could sit on it, and left it turned on for the light.

“Oh, it’s so big I could sleep on it.” Y/n remarked.

Perhaps he was feeling extra chill or it was just from being around her but a weird sound came out of his mouth as he tried to suppress a laugh. Y/n usually gets sleepy after sex, and his dick isn’t the average size. So did he think of her sentence sexually and almost burst out laughing? Yes.

“Did you just try to laugh at me?” She asked in an annoyed tone.

“Me? Never.” He covered up his chuckle with coughing.

“Whatever…” She mumbled a few other words under her breath as she attempted to climb the bike, but it was gigantic. She can’t even recall how she climbed it previously and she’s not even short!

She gasped suddenly as Harry’s hands lifted her body like she weighed nothing and placed her on the seat before she could blink. She was glad that he couldn’t see her face clearly because she could feel her cheeks burning. Was she that touch deprived?

“I was handling it just fine.” She huffed in confidence.

“Mhmm.”

The bike was indeed huge, but Harry took most of the space making their bodies glued on the seat.

The tension between them could be cut with a knife. Y/n would usually be the first to break the silence, but she just couldn’t. She felt paralyzed next to him, and he didn’t even touch her yet. His presence and cologne were enough to weaken her.

“Are you still mad at me?” He cleared his throat.

“What?” She couldn’t mask the shock in her tone as her face turned around to meet his.

“About last week.” It sounded as if something was holding him back, almost like he was afraid of asking.

She took a few seconds to process his question, mostly because she was shocked at the gesture. She knew deep down that it meant a lot. No one would believe her if she said that Agent Harry Styles was checking up on her and apologized. They’d probably laugh in her face.

She couldn’t decode what it meant. Was he just feeling guilty, or did he share the same feelings? The need for more than just physical boundaries haunted her but she wouldn’t dare to bring it up. Even if he was feeling guilty, it still had to be something. He’s literally merciless to other agents.

“I—I—“

“You don’t have to give me an answer.” He reassured her in a low whisper.

“No, I do—I’m just confused.”

“About?” Harry was itching to know her answer. He even rehearsed his question for the past week.

“Well… why did my lack of performance anger you in the first place?” She had a lot to ponder about in her free time. Questions that popped into her head about Harry.

He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together before exhaling. “I didn’t want you to get hurt on the field. Most of the time when agents slack, they end up getting injured in the field…”

“Wanted you to be strong for when I’m not there.” He whispered as if the city was able to hear him confessing his secrets.

“Oh.” Y/n’s head was swirling with thoughts and questions-none that came out of her mouth. She could even feel Harry’s stress radiating off him. She simply allowed her Pinky finger to touch his as they continued staring at the city.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she broke the silence.

“I’m not mad anymore. I was just surprised. Just—don’t do it again.”

“Never.”

They stayed in the same position with their fingers touching for almost two hours, as they chatted about important and mundane things. His heart fluttered when she laughed her ass off after he told her how an agent peed his pants because he was caught smoking.

He even told her about his mother briefly. That’s how whipped he was. She shared a few details about growing up as an orphan, but they both decided to close the topic knowing how heavy was.

“Your cologne is suffocating me.” Her remark was innocent, it really was—but his mind wasn’t.

“Thought you liked it when you buried your face in my neck?” Cheeky Harry was back in full force. He inched his face closer to her and he could hear her swallow down her throat.

“Harry…”

“Tell me…did you think about me knocking on your door and fucking you against the wall?” Lust dripped from his voice and Y/n’s chest was rising. Goosebumps spread all over her skin as their noses bumped.

“I—yes.”

“Good. Cause I stopped myself from doing that every single day.” He was needy for her, and only her.

“What are you waiting for then?”

In a few seconds, he had her straddling his lap with his hand supporting her lower back as his lips devoured hers. Their kiss was sloppy, wet, and lustful. Harry counted the minutes that led to this moment so he could taste the sweetest fruit.

He was fucking obsessed with everything about her. Her lips, eyes, body, mind, and pussy.

“Fuck!” He moaned into her mouth when she grinded over his clothed cock. He might as well cum right there in his pants if she kept doing that.

“Behave. “He slapped her ass causing her to whine sweetly. His large hand rested on her cheeks trying to knead them over her leggings.

Their breaths were labored as their tongues clashed like lovers who hadn’t had sex in ages. His mouth was fucking devouring her and she could already feel her lips getting sore. He kept urging her body closer as if he could morph them into one body.

“Ne—need you.” Her whimpers made the blood rush to his cock.

“Yeah? Where do you need me, my baby?”

She ignored his question and continued kissing all over his face, brushing over his stubble and chin. She was hungry and he adored it. But she also didn’t answer him.

He pulled her away by wrapping his hand around her throat. She gasped, secretly loving the feeling of his veiny hands choking her.

“I asked you a question, little minx. Where do you need me?” His voice was so deep and lustful that she wanted to get down on her knees and suck him.

“Uh—In my pussy.” She breathed out, feeling the wetness increase between her thighs just from his hand around her neck. “Here, baby?” He cupped his other hand over her pussy making her feel tingly.

“Y—yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir.”

“Attagirl.” He felt her wetness on his hand and if it wasn’t so dark he’d bend her over the bike and fuck her into the next day. Besides, his little minx gets sleepy.

“C’mon, I need to get us to your apartment.” He spanked her cheeks again, earning a squeal from her. He pulled her off his lap and winced at his painful hard on before fixing his pants as much as he could and seating himself on the bike. His hand reached out for her and pulled her onto his lap again.

“Whoa! What are you doing? I should be behind you.”

“No. Since my cologne makes you horny, you’re gonna have your face buried into my neck the whole ride.” His smirk was sick but fuck her if she didn’t like it.

Her nose bumped over his neck and she fought a moan. This had to be the best punishment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you with my body.” His arm tightened around her waist as he took the route they came from.

It was going to be a torturous ride.

Y/n could barely open the door properly with Harry kissing on the back of her neck. His hard on was pressing into her ass as she tried to insert the key. Her soft whines only made him hornier and needier.

As soon as they were inside, the keys dropped to the ground followed by the loud shut of the door. Harry grabbed Y/n by the throat pushing her to the wall where he kissed her deeply. The kiss was rushed and erotic, he could never get enough of her lips or sweet whimpers every time he pushed his tongue inside her mouth.

“My minx…” The warmth between her thighs was torturous. His deep voice rumbled from his chest sending vibrations straight to her pussy.

“Uhh..” She tried to push her core against his crotch for any sort of friction.

He caught on immediately as he smirked against the kiss and tapped on her ass to lift her on his waist. He had her placed lower than usual so she could feel him against the fabric.

“Is that what you wanted sweet girl? To feel how hard I am for you?” He panted, cradling her jaw with his hand as he deepened the kiss.

“Y—yes." She didn’t want to respond or part from his lips for a millisecond. She could feel her pussy pulsating just from the feeling of his cock pressing into her core.

She pulled away reluctantly, glancing at his neck like it was her next meal. He may have been teasing her, but he was right. She loved burying her face in his neck and sucking on it. She prided herself in knowing that the hickeys she’d give him would be on show for all girls at the agency.

His scent always played with her pheromones and messed with her brain. His cologne had a hold on her, and she knew that she looked like a puppy in heat when she clung to him. “Dirty girl…” His hand rested on her hair as his head rolled backward giving her access to his skin. He was a sight for sore eyes with his face scrunched in ecstasy and lips slightly parted. She didn’t have to speak for him to understand her possessiveness and boy did he like it.

His little minx was obsessed with him just like he was.

“Bedroom please.” She laid her forehead against his having had her fill from giving him love bites. Their noses bumped as they looked into each other’s eyes that shared the same desire.

She didn’t need to tell him twice. He supported her body with one hand around her waist as she directed him to the room. He didn’t waste any time and kept his mouth busy with her neck.

He placed her down on the bed gently before taking off his clothes quickly while she stared at his toned body and tattoos, holding in her drool.

“You could stare at me all night darling, but now I need you to be a good girl and take off your clothes so I could relieve that needy cunt of yours.” Harry barely finished his sentence, and her clothes were off in a few seconds.

The light in the room was dim, supported by a small bedside lamp. If she thought that staring at his body was a delight, then she should read his mind as he stared down at hers.

She looked so fucking pretty for him. Only him.

It was like an erotic scene out of a movie or a wet dream. Y/n on her back with her legs spread showcasing her glistening pussy and hardened nipples, and Harry standing tall in front of her with his cock erect to his stomach begging to sink itself inside her warm walls.

The sight of him standing like that nude and horny will never leave her mind. Almost as if he were a Greek god.

She squealed as he pulled her by her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry suddenly lowered his body till his face was at the same level as her pussy. His teasing game was strong, she was crumbling underneath him.

“My favorite scent.” He buried his face in her cunt and inhaled. A tiny whine left her mouth as his nose bumped into her swollen clit. Y/n felt like she could cry if he didn’t fuck her, and he was taking his sweet time in savoring the scent of her wetness.

“H—Harry.”

“Mhm?” He turned his attention to her, hovering over her body and taking delight in her needy face.

“Please—it hurts.” If he waited any longer, Harry was sure that a tear would’ve fallen from her eye.

“Oh poor baby…” He cooed as he caressed her cheek gently. “…you just need me inside, don’t you?” She was quick to nod while slightly squirming beneath him.

He pulled her closer, situating her core right under his cock, and stroked it giving her a show of his moans before tapping it against her wet cunt.

“Is that where you need it? Just have to slide in.” His sick grin with the feeling of his cock sliding over her cunt back and forth made her eyes roll back.

“Please.” She dug her nails into his back followed by a set of pleas.

“Shhh.” He whispered softly, pressing a peck to her cheek before pulling away from her and fixing their position.

He placed her legs on his shoulder and gave her his twisted smirk as he stroked his shaft and bit his bottom lip. “Gonna be my good girl as usual? Hmm?”. He lowered his body again, allowing his cock to rest on her stomach.

“Uh—huh.” She nodded mindlessly immediately. She was already cockdrunk and he wasn’t inside her yet.

“Ready baby?” His hand rubbed her legs softly as she gave him the cue. He glanced quickly at his cock resting on her skin and he almost got dizzy from the size difference. It got to him every damn time.

His eyes were focused on her facial expression as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. A wave of relief washed over her face with a sweet moan making him still his hips to avoid cumming.

There was nothing like sinking inside her warm walls that begged him to go deeper. Wet squelching sounds filled the room the more he pushed inside her—his baby was made for him.

“That’s it little minx—so fucking warm for daddy.”

Y/n’s brain felt mushy. Harry was so fucking good to her, and his cock scratched the itch just right. He never referred to himself as daddy before, only sir but she liked it so bad.

She pulled at his arms with soft whimpers signalling for him to get closer to her—which he did without hesitation. She clung to him, digging her nails into his back and tugging at his hair. His cock drove deep into her cunt, massaging her hot walls with its veins and thickness.

“Use me d—daddy”. Y/n shed tears from pleasure that stained his face since he was glued to her, pressing pecks to her cheeks and nose.

“Yeah? Want daddy to use you like a fuckdoll?” He increased his pace, going deeper and moaning into her ear at the feeling of her bare cunt.

They both adored raw sex and went for it almost every time. Y/n was on birth control, and Harry tested regularly (despite only fucking her). He was pussy whipped.

“Uhh—be rough daddy.” He stilled his hips at her words, leaving them glued to hers. He lifted his body and took in her fucked sight. Messy hair, tear stains, and a needy face.

“Wanted to be gentle with you but I forgot that you’re a whore deep down.” He chuckled before spitting on her face, and watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed heavily.

His little minx was insatiable and provoked him further by trying to fuck herself on his cock as she bit her bottom lip. He could faintly hear her whimpering ‘Daddy’ under her breath.

He wanted to slap her knowing how much she liked it but something else distracted him. He looked down to where they were connected noticing the mix of her wetness with his precum. He pulled out slowly, moaning at the loss of contact and his cock that is painted in white.

Harry tried to breathe in and out to avoid cumming. Not only did she cream on his cock, but her cunt was pulsating as if she was asking for his cock to slide in again.

“Pathetic. Creamed all over me.” Her inner thighs were coated with wetness, and she didn’t close her legs—not even a bit. She knew that she should always keep them spread for him.

He flipped her on her stomach effortlessly and she immediately arched her back, presenting her ass to him. “What a good fuckdoll.” He slapped her cheeks and placed his tip at her entrance before sinking into her warmth again.

Her walls pulled him back in as if she were some sort of seductress that made him addicted to her. Harry balanced himself and focused on the fast thrusts instead of her extremely warm cunt.

“Fucking insatiable aren’t you?” He grunted with his eyes fixed on his cock entering her pussy and coming out all creamy as her ass jiggled.

Y/n’s muffled moans were all she could offer. With her face smushed in the pillow and brain turned off, she was in fucking heaven.

The arch of her back had him rolling his head backward as his hips rotated forward, going deeper and harder.

“That’s it slut. Take my fucking cock.” He gritted his teeth, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and pulling it backward before wrapping a hand around her neck and lifting her body to his chest. 

She was completely gone. She could only look at him with teary eyes that begged him to claim her.

Deeper, harder, faster.

“D—d…” 

“Good fuckdolls keep their mouth shut.” He tightened his grip on her jaw, tapping on her mouth to open it up before spitting inside.

“Swallow.” If the warmth of her cunt didn’t kill him, it was going to be her face. So needy, compliant, and dizzy from pleasure.

Their bodies were glued to each other, skin to skin with her back to his chest as he thrusted inside her while panting in her ear. 

He was supporting both of their bodies seeing as she could do nothing but whine. His arm was secured around her torso with her hand clinging to his bicep. The clenching of her walls around his cock was always the hardest for him. She’d rile him on trying to milk his cum, taking every drop.

“You wanna cum?” He panted against the back of her neck knowing how her body acts when she’s reaching her orgasm.

She gave him a weak nod, clinging harder to his bicep as she laid her head on his shoulder. They didn’t always cum together, but when they did, the euphoria was unmatched. Harry had been holding himself back ever since he sunk into her, just to feel her shake and pulsate around him as he spilled his cum into her.

“C’mon minx, give it to me.” His tongue left a broad lick on her neck with a harsh bite. It wasn’t her clit that got her off—her sensitive spot was her neck, whether Harry choked her or sucked on her skin—she was a goner.

“H—Harry” Her nails dug into his skin as she looked up at him with sweet eyes and shaky legs.

How could he resist laying his lips on hers as he stilled his hips to empty himself inside her?

She was shuddering—even with their skin glued together. Her sweet moans made his cock twitch inside her, already hungry for more. Her orgasm hit her hard, clouding her vision and thoughts. The feeling of his cum spiling inside her with her pussy clenching to take it inside was the only thing she felt and wanted to feel.

“Fuck. That’s it, take every drop my lo—minx.”  His eyes fluttered open at his word slip up.

His eyes furrowed in confusion and immediately glanced at her face which seemed to be too occupied with cumming. His chest heaved as he swiped his hand across her face, moving her sweaty hair strands away before kissing her temple.

“Talk to me, are you okay?” He angled her face towards him to examine her expression.

“Yes.” A hazy smile was planted across her face making him chuckle.

“Mhmm. I’m going to pull out now and carry you to the bathroom so you can pee.” He gave her a heads up while rubbing her cheeks.

Once she nodded at him, he began pulling out slowly, wincing at being separated from her warmth—something that she reciprocated. Harry tried to avoid looking down—he really did, but it was too tempting.

His creamy load dripped out of her pussy, sliding down her legs, and the more she clenched, the more came out.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered under his breath, swiping his finger across her pussy and gathering his cum before tasting it.

Y/n’s whine echoed in his ear. She sported an angry look on her face that disappeared once he signalled for her to open her mouth. He spat the residue of what he tasted inside of her mouth, enjoying the faint moans that spilled from her.

“C’mon let’s clean you up.” He carried her effortlessly to the bathroom before giving her privacy and heading back to the room to change the sheets.

Who knew that changing bed sheets would make him irritated? He let out a huff, finishing the last touch right as she came out of the bathroom.

She was dressed in nothing but a plain white shirt that barely reached her thighs.

“Hm I love my bed.” She smiled as she climbed the mattress, giving Harry a show.

“Y/n.” He spoke rigidly.

“Yeah?” She glanced up innocently at him as she relaxed under the duvet.

“I was supposed to clean you up…and where are your panties?” He questioned her as he joined her on the bed—nude.

“You can wake me up at night, make a mess then clean me.” She taunted him, switching to the side and giving him a view of the shirt riding up her ass.

He got under the covers, situating himself properly so that he was attached to her.

“Is that what you want little minx? Hmm?” His fingers caressed her skin slowly starting from her arm, down to her legs.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll see.” He nibbled on before earlobe as she dosed off to sleep. She loved sleeping after sex and Harry knew that, but it was almost 1 in the morning and she needed rest.

Harry dared to let his hand dip in her hair, giving her head scratches as she slept peacefully. He didn’t realize what he was doing until she stirred in her sleep making him pull his hand away.

His eyes furrowed in confusion as he stared at her sleeping face. First the word slip up and now he’s playing with her hair.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @stilesissaved @daphnesutton @elioslover @myalovesharry

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry smut #harry styles story #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry fanfic #harry styles fic #agentrry #harry styles fanfic #harry fics #harry fluff #harry styles mature #harry styles masterlist #harry styles book #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles wattpad #mean dom h #dark harry fic #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry angst

[cupid-styles]

yours (ymls check-in)

in which y/n just wants to be harry's — officially.

word count: 3.8k

content warnings: parenting/family stuff (y/n and harry are parents), smut (breeding kink, slight size kink, literal one "mommy" mention, dirty talk)

ymls masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Parenthood is difficult.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, so it takes Harry and Y/N approximately two minutes of bringing Clementine into the world to come to the same realization. Her loud wails break their hearts every time, sleep becomes a luxury, and breastfeeding takes an incredible toll on Y/N’s physical and mental health.

But in the same way that parenting is hard and filled with tears and confusion, it’s just as — if not more — rewarding.

Clementine is the best thing that’s ever happened to each of them. Harry can’t remember a version of his life where he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with his sweet baby girl, and Y/N has softened up a considerable amount now that she spends most of her day cooing to her daughter. 

It’s not perfect by any means — Clem is a tried-and-true daddy’s girl and sometimes it hurts Y/N’s feelings. Clementine also inherited her mom’s grumpy exterior and, in the middle of a visit from Harry’s parents or Y/N’s sister, will starfish her body, going completely rigid until one of her parents takes her. (Harry always thinks it’s funny while Y/N is embarrassed by it. It’s something they’re working on as a family.)

Beyond their little trio, though, lies a larger situation that’s been conveniently tucked away since Clementine was born: Harry and Y/N’s relationship. 

They never decided what they were after confessing feelings for one another. One day, they lived separately and were going the route of platonic co-parenting. The next, Harry moved all his things into Y/N’s, ended the lease on his own apartment, and painted the guest room a pretty pastel pink. 

At first, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Y/N has never cared for labels on relationships, and their devotion to each other was blatant — they were parenting a child together, after all. He kissed her good morning, they held hands on family walks, and at the end of the day, they were crawling into bed together. She didn’t need a ring or a title to reiterate where she stood in Harry’s life.

Until… well, until the supermarket incident.

It was a rainy day, but Y/N wanted to pop into the store before they rounded the corner to head back home. Now that Clementine’s pediatrician gave them the okay to start trying out solid foods — or, as solid as baby food can be — Harry had gotten really into making it from scratch. Currently, their kitchen was a mess of sweet potato, apple, and green bean purees, but Y/N was trying to be supportive, even if the noise of the blender sometimes woke Clem up from her afternoon nap. She remembered him mentioning a new recipe he found for carrots, mangos, and bananas, so she figured they could grab the ingredients on their way home. 

Clementine looked adorable in her cute little rain jacket and matching hat. Harry couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, and as they dipped into the produce aisle, stroller in tow, she remembered they needed another gallon of milk since they were trying to wean Clem off of Y/N’s breast milk. 

“You guys can stay right here, it’s just in the next aisle,” Y/N said, arms stuffed with produce bags. Harry nodded, though his attention primarily laid on Clementine’s gummy smile. Y/N snorted to herself as she quickly shuffled off to the dairy section — the duo were two peas in a pod, but she didn't think she would want it any other way. 

Glancing down at her watch, she put a pep in her step as she walked back to the produce aisle. They had about 15 minutes before Clem started getting antsy and whiney about her pre-dinner nap, and she didn’t want her to get upset on their walk home. 

Only, when she turned the aisle, Harry and Clementine weren’t alone anymore — no, there were two women standing with them, cooing over their daughter. 

“She’s so precious! How old is she?” one of them asked.

“Ah, almost eight months,” Harry replied bashfully, petting down the tuft of brown curls at the top of Clementine’s head. Y/N clenched her jaw. Why had he taken her hat off? It was supposed to protect her from the rain! 

“So sweet,” the other woman grinned, reaching out to thumb over Clementine’s puffy cheek. The vision sent a pang of jealousy through Y/N’s chest — her baby wasn’t some kind of doll that anyone could just touch! Clutching the produce and container of milk in her hands, Y/N all but marched over to the stroller and threw them in the bottom compartment. 

“Ready to go, honey?” 

Harry blinked at Y/N, a world of confusion swirling in the green eyes he shared with his daughter. She stayed silent and still, knuckles white from gripping the stroller handle so tightly. 

“Yeah,” he finally replied, leaning down to gently place Clementine back in her seat, “This is Y/N, Clementine’s mum.”

“Oh, your baby is so sweet! Harry was just raving about you!” one of the women nearly squealed. Y/N smiled tightly as she watched him buckle Clementine in.

“Okay, say bye bye, Clem,” Harry murmured. They’d been trying to teach her how to wave hello and goodbye, but Y/N would rather scoop her own eyeballs out than watch her do it for the first time with these women. 

In fact, she was already pushing the stroller down the end of the aisle before they could even get the word “bye” out.

Since that day about two weeks ago, it’s been constantly replaying in the back of Y/N’s brain. Even though Harry didn’t think much of it (she knows this because he immediately started talking about nonsense on the walk home), for the first time, it plucked at a chord of insecurity that she didn’t even know she had. She’d always felt fairly secure in her relationship with Harry — he’d all but begged her for this life together, and he’d been incredibly involved from the moment she got pregnant — so how is that two random strangers at the supermarket tore this out of her? 

It bothered her so deeply to the point where she did something she’d never done before: Ask Lea for relationship advice. 

“In the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me for help with a man,” Lea had said, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. Y/N grumbled as she wrapped her hand around her matcha, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She’d been able to sneak out for an afternoon coffee date with her while Harry took Clementine to the park. “You’re always so… sure of yourself. And you have a literal child with Harry. What gives?”

Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her lips together nervously. “You should’ve seen the way those girls were all over him. It was… gross.”

“It’s normal to feel jealous, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I am not jealous,” she muttered, “I just… he introduced me as Clementine’s mom. Don’t you think I’m a bit… more than that to him?”

“Of course you are. But you’ve never had that conversation, have you?”

“Like you said, we have a baby together. What else could you need?”

Lea smirked, “That’s all that you need. But he probably needs a bit more confirmation than that.”

Y/N bristled as she stuck her straw between her lips, taking a long sip. 

“He knows we’re in a relationship, doesn’t he?” 

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “Dom and I used to hear all the gossip about you two before Clem was born, but since then, I think he’s just been focused on making sure you and her are both taken care of.”

“So what do I do?” Y/N asked through a sigh, leaning back against the worn leather of the booth. 

“Talk to him,” Lea said easily, “But… maybe don’t do it in your rough-and-tough-Y/N way. Maybe… make it a little special. He likes that, y’know? Little romantic gestures?”

Y/N scrunched her face. Lea was right — Harry was all about the little things, like surprising her with flowers or waking her up with breakfast in bed on the weekends. And while Y/N was positive she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, she’d certainly attempt to find one if it meant making Harry happy. 

. . .

A few days later, Harry walks into his shared apartment with Y/N to the scent of something delicious. 

“Y/N?” he calls as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. They weren’t due for company, were they? He doesn’t think so, but with eight months straight of four to five hours of sleep each night, he had trouble remembering anything that wasn’t Clementine-related. 

He follows the fragrance into the kitchen, where Y/N is standing over the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of some sort of sauce. She jumps, hand over her heart, when he goes to greet her. 

“Jesus fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, the wooden spoon nearly clattering to the floor. He smirks and lets out an amused laugh as he walks towards her, observing the array of pans on the stovetop. 

“What’s all this for?” he asks. Y/N presses a hand to his muscular chest and attempts to block him from seeing anything. 

“I’m making you dinner,” she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Clem’s with my sister for the night.”

“Oh?”

She nods. 

“Did I forget a special occasion?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how come I’m getting spoiled tonight?”

Her cheeks warm at that, but they both pretend her blush is invisible. “I just wanted to do something… romantic for you.” 

“Romantic?” he repeats the word like it’s a bizarre concept and it makes a pit form in Y/N’s stomach, “That’s… sweet of you. Thank you.”

She nods, albeit a bit robotically. “Um. Yeah. It’ll be ready in like 5 minutes.”

“Sounds good,” he replies, “Do you want me to set the table?”

She shakes her head bashfully and Harry raises an eyebrow. “I already did that.”

Her demure nature makes a smile form at the edges of his lips and he reaches out to press a hand to her hip, squeezing gently. 

“Y’okay?” he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her. “You seem nervous.”

Y/N shrugs and it supplies him with a tepid answer. “I just wanna make this nice for you.”

His heart breaks a bit at that and he ducks lower to catch her lips in a short, sweet kiss. PDA isn’t irregular for them — not with touch being Harry’s primary love language — so it’s unsurprising to be on the receiving end of one of his dizzying kisses, even if it ends quicker than she’d like. 

“This is already so special to me. I do miss Clem, though.”

She snorts at that as he brushes his nose against hers. “Of course you do. She’s your mini me.”

“Except when she’s making that grumpy little face. That’s all you.”

Y/N lightly bats at his chest before mumbling out to go sit down in the dining room. 

Harry’s eyes widen when he sees the candlelit table — he can’t remember the last time they ate on actual plates, always opting for take-out containers or paper plates for the sake of convenience. He swallows as he sits down and listens to Y/N shuffle around the kitchen. He hears her curse, followed by what sounds like her emptying pasta into a colander — she always burns herself whenever she does that, and he can envision the slight grimace that appears on her face. 

Just as he’s getting antsy and preparing himself to ask if she needs any help, Y/N appears from the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she places it on the table, then stands up straight. She looks like a soldier waiting to be told to return to their duties.

“Um… I made us that roasted red pepper pasta you like.” she says, wringing her hands out in front of her. “I hope that’s fine.”

“That’s great,” Harry nods, gesturing to the seat across from him, “Sit down. You look like you’re gonna have an aneurysm. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down, and the sound of her grouchy voice makes him chuckle as he grabs her bowl to serve her, “I know I’m not, like… the most romantic person, or even the easiest person to be around, so it’s important to me that I make this really good for you.”

“I hate when you say that,” he murmurs before placing her full bowl in front of her. He moves to serve himself, “You’re the easiest person I’ve ever been around. You’re a great mum and I love being a parent with you.”

Y/N swallows as she listens to him, leaving her food untouched. He watches her and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly. 

“Is that… all I am to you?” she asks softly with low eyes. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… am I still just a co-parent to you?” 

He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, we never really talked about it, I guess. But you know you’re more than that to me.”

“You’re more than just Clem’s dad to me,” she continues. “And it kinda hurt my feelings when you introduced me to those girls as ‘Clementine’s mom’ a few weeks back.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I know.”

His heart strains at the thought of hurting her feelings, but he also knows that what happened in the supermarket was weeks ago. Had she been sitting on it and thinking about it all this time?

“I never want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. To be honest, I don’t know how to refer to you but… I’d say you’re my partner, yeah? You’re my teammate in raising our beautiful girl and I love getting to live life with you.”

Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. “But what if… what if you called me your girlfriend, too?”

Harry’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to place his hand on her knee, squeezing softly.

“Would you want that?” he asks. “I’ll only do it if that’s what you want.”

She looks up at him and nods. Her eyes are glassy and it makes Harry’s chest tighten. Suddenly, he needs to be closer to her, so he stands up and scoops her into his arms. At first she rejects his touch, mumbling out sentiments about still having postpartum weight, but Harry shushes her and pulls her into his lap. 

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N.” he murmurs. He leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She shivers and he keeps his hands as solid anchors on her hips. 

“I want you to call me your girlfriend,” she says, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I don’t want you to entertain any other person or let them flirt with you or touch our baby. I just want it to be the three of us, always.”

If Harry’s being honest, he would have been content with living in this gray, in-between area with Y/N for the rest of their lives. He was happy — so incredibly happy to be in her life, to sleep next to her every night, to raise a gorgeous baby girl with her. He felt fortunate to be there for every moment, good and bad — but he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been waiting for the day where she told him what was really going on in that pretty head of hers.

He presses a chaste kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says quietly, soft fingertips smoothing over the expanse of her hip, “You’re my girlfriend, okay? Not just Clemmie’s mum. You’re so much more than that.”

She nods her head and Harry smiles gently at how flustered she continues to be — it’s a side of her that he rarely sees, and the sight makes a low chuckle sound from deep in his chest. 

“You’re silly,” he mumbles against the shell of her ear. “Isn’t that what you are? A silly baby desperate to be mine?”

Y/N bristles and swallows harshly, keeping her gaze low in his lap. His smirk only grows as he begins to press slow kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. Her eyes flutter closed. 

“Everyone thinks you’re this pretty, grumpy girl, but I know better than that,” he continues, sliding his hands beneath her tee-shirt to feel her warm skin, “You’re loving and kind. The best mum I’ve ever seen. The best partner and the best girlfriend, too. Isn’t that right, mama?”

She gasps wetly and he feels her thighs threaten to clench, but his hips prevent her from getting any relief. He hums, satisfied with her response and, in a quick movement, pulls her shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her swollen breasts sit prettily on her chest and he tries his best not to groan at the sight. 

“Don’t tease,” she mewls. He chuckles as she grasps at the fabric of his own tee-shirt, the soft material in the tight clutch of her knuckles. 

“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, though he knows the answer is an obvious and resounding yes. They haven’t had actual sex in at least a month, not with Clementine occupying 99% of their time. Even if he’s attempting to play it cool, his cock is hard and throbbing beneath layers of his clothing. He swears he can even feel the warmth of her pussy through her own clothes and it’s taking everything in him not to thrust up and grind against her. 

“Yes,” Y/N pants, shaky fingers digging beneath the waistband of his trousers to pull his length out, “S-stop playing around. You know it’s been too long.”

Harry laughs lowly and lifts his hips up to grant her enough space so she can retrieve his cock. She doesn’t even bother pushing his pants or briefs down, swallowing tightly at the sight of the ruddy tip already leaking with pre-cum. 

“Relax, baby,” he mumbles, grabbing one of her trembling hands and intertwining their fingers together, “Breathe, yeah? I’ll take care of my girl.”

Her pussy clenches at that — my girl — and she nibbles on her bottom lip eagerly when he pushes her soft shorts to the side to reveal her pussy. He wishes he had more willpower to look at what he’s been missing out on and his throat bobs when his eyes flicker down to the puffy clit tucked between her lips. He thinks they’ll both explode if he doesn’t get inside of her in the next two seconds, so he gives his cock a pump before he positions himself beneath her and slowly pushes in. 

Immediately, she whimpers out and he stalls, his free hand pressing rigidly into the skin of her thigh. 

“Y’alright?” 

“Yeah,” she whispers, “Tight fit.”

“I know.” he mutters, glancing up at her to read her expression. “Do you need me to pull out?”

She instantly shakes her head, “No, no. Keep going.”

Harry leans up to seal their lips in a messy, wet kiss as he continues pushing in as slowly as he can. He supposes he should’ve spent more time stretching her out, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Y/N over the past year, it’s that she’s always eager and ever determined to take him, even if it’s been weeks since their last time together.

When he’s finally all the way in, his balls snug against her bum, their kiss slows, though it doesn’t seem like Y/N has any plans to separate their mouths. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if he knows his cock is throbbing from the tightness of her pussy. And then, after what seems like an eternity, she nods.

Slowly, he begins to fuck up inside of her and breathy moans depart from her swollen lips. Harry’s mouth catches each one, punctuating every whimper with a gentle peck. 

“There you go, mama, take my cock. You’re doing so good, aren’t you?”

She only responds with a lilting whimper and he moans, feeling the way her pussy clenches around his length. It’s not the dirtiest sex they’ve had — not by a long shot — but god, if it doesn’t feel incredible knowing that they’re completely devoted to one another.

“You make me feel so good,” she mewls, making his eyes nearly roll back, “I love your cock— ‘s so good, Harry, want— want you to give me another baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, squeezing her hips hard, “Can’t just fucking say that stuff, baby. I’ll bust before you even cum.”

“D-don’t care,” she shudders, but he can tell she’s reaching her peak by the way her thighs begin to tremble, each of her muscles tightening. “Cum inside me, m-make me a mommy again.”

His chest vibrates with a deep groan and he reaches between them to pinch at her pearly clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. He’s seconds away from bursting himself, but he refuses to finish before she has a chance to. 

It barely takes a few loops around the bundle of nerves before she’s shaking in his lap, her pussy tensing around his length as she moans out his name over and over again. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he presses his forehead against her sweaty shoulder, shuddering as her orgasm triggers his own. As requested, he pumps his cock deep inside of her as he comes, pushing his seed as far as it’ll go. She whimpers from the sensation as pants fall from her lips, shivering every time he thrusts another rope of cum into her.

They’re both shaking by the time both of their orgasms taper off. Harry wraps his arms around her sweaty form, pulling her chest against his. 

“You’re mine, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You and Clem. We’re a family.”

Y/N nods, echoing his words. “Yours.”

They settle into a comfortable silence; Harry’s softening cock still inside. He’s unsure of how how long they stay there, but he does know that they’ll have to move eventually so he can clean her up. It’s only then that she sits up to look at him, her eyes soft and tired. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

“Will you get me Plan B tomorrow?” she asks, biting her lip. “I think Clem is… more than enough for me right now.”

He laughs and nods his head. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll pick some up for you tomorrow.”

#writing #ymls concept #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles one direction #one direction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry's house #fine line #dadrry

[stylesharrys]

y/n gives harry a cheeky blowjob on their hike.

warnings: dirty talk, somewhat public indecency, blowjob, swearing

a/n: inspired by the new pic of harry in japan hehe this was written super fast and not proof read so i apologise for any mistakes! <3

//

It was Harry's idea to go for a hike. Something about soaking up the sun and burning off breakfast like he hadn't already fucked Y/N at sunrise this morning.

She didn't complain, though. She was more than happy to admire the view and spend some quality time outdoors. And she was thankful Harry chose an easy route for them to follow, given Y/N didn't really tend to hike all that much.

He's sporting a pair of black shorts and a blue hoodie with Y/N's backpack on -- had insisted that she'd get too tired too quickly if she carried it, and Y/N didn't argue.

Walking a little ahead of him, she allows Harry the view of her backside. Peachy bum moving in her tight gym leggings. He's been hiding a boner for the last ten minutes, struggling to will it away with every step she takes.

"Have I told you how nice your bum looks in those leggings?" he calls out to her.

Y/N looks back at him over her shoulder, offering a cheeky grin. "Once or twice, yeah." She looks down at the noticeable bulge in her pants.

"Causing you a bit of a problem, are they?"

A blush is quick to make its way on Harry's cheeks as she turns to him and walks closer. Y/N fiddles with his ringless fingers, a glint of mischief in her eyes -- a look that Harry is all too familiar with.

He cocks a brow. "Are you serious?"

Y/N shrugs her shoulders. "Why not? We're alone... in a wooded area... with trees to hide behind..."

She doesn't give him much more time to think before gently tugging him off the path and toward a more wild, wooded area. The sticks snap under their feet, overgrown grass and weeds tickling at their legs until she finds clearer ground beneath a tree.

Harry leans against it, eyes curious as she sinks to her knees. If he wasn't hard before, he most certainly is now; gazing down at her, looking all pretty and doe-eyed.

Y/N tugs his shorts and boxers down mid-thigh, Harry's cock slapping free against his lower tummy. The sight has her stomach fluttering. He's achingly hard and red and plump.

She doesn't waste much time, taking him into her hand and swirling her wet tongue around his ruddy tip. Harry's head falls back against the tree trunk, lips parted as a relieved sigh falls from them.

"You're unreal," he tells her, breathless.

Y/N grins up at him, closing her eyes to savour his taste. Wrapping her lips around him, she gently begins to suck -- her tongue flat against the underside of his cock.

Harry's hands find her hair, balling a fist around her ponytail to guide her movements to his desired pace. She lets him. Relaxes her jaw and allows him to take control.

Y/N fists whatever doesn't fit, and as Harry begins to bob her head faster, spit drools down her chin and the corners of her mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut, nose slightly scrunched as he fucks his length down her throat.

The noises are drowned out by nature; the birds singing and the wind whistling. But they can hear it -- and they hear it loud.

"Jesus Christ, baby. Letting me fuck your throat in the middle of the woods. My dirty girl."

Y/N moans around him, the sound sending vibrations from his tip to his balls as he grunts her name. She can feel that familiar wetness pool between her thighs, can taste the saltiness of his sweat and pre-come as he nears closer to his release.

Harry's pace grows a bit more frantic, desperately chasing his high. Y/N continues to fist the base of his shaft, closing her mouth around him now to suck him for all he's got.

His breathing is erratic, wheezing filthy praises that only make her suck him harder. She feels him twitch on the tip of her tongue and releases her hold on his cock so her hands can brace herself on his thighs.

"Fuck!"

His body trembles as hot spurts of arousal shoot down Y/N's throat. Harry's hold on her hair falters as he attempts to catch his breath, her lips still locked around him as she sucks whatever is left.

Pulling off him with a pop, she swallows his come with a smile and wipes the lower half of her face with the backs of her hands. Y/N stands back on her feet, tucking Harry's cock back in his shorts and boxers and patting him on the chest.

She walks past him, leaving him a panting mess like she didn't just suck the soul out of him less than thirty seconds ago. He turns to follow her, legs a little jelly when she looks over her shoulder at him again with that same wicked grin.

"Come on, H. We've still got another mile and a half to go."

#hehehe this was SO RUSHED #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #imagine harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic

[freedomfireflies]

Our Place*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word

Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 

The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.

You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 

He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.

“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”

You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”

“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”

You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”

“Well…I wasn’t—”

“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”

You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.

But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 

“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”

Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  

You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.

But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 

“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”

You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.

His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.

So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.

He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”

You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”

“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"

Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”

You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.

The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.

Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.

In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 

But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.

Your heart stops.

In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.

It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”

He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”

But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.

He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”

You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 

“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”

He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.

You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.

And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?

“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”

It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”

“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”

You whimper. “Harry, wait—”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”

“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”

But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 

But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 

He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”

“You’ve never seen her before.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”

You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”

“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”

Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.

Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”

Your expression softens.

“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”

The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 

“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”

You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 

“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”

You nearly sob. 

“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”

You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.

“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.

He smiles.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“…can we please finish now?”

He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."

The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.

And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“As you wish.”

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

Previous Part:

~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach

@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana

@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley

@myalovesharry @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave

@nuggetdean @triski73 @finelinesss

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #nerd!harry #smut #imagine #concept #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry and tink #engineer!harry #dom!harry #softdom!harry #enemies to lovers #angst

[sushirrrry]

EXECUTIVE.

a one shot — tomorrow, 8pm EST.

(ceo/assistant, he falls first AND hard, smut smut smut)

available on wp and tumblr. keep your notifications on!

🤍📆💼✨🔥

#harry styles #hs #ask #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry wattpad #harry styles smut #harry styles x original character #anon ask #harry writing #harry styles fluffy #harry styles oneshot #harry smut #harry fic #harrystylesfanfiction #harry styles one shot #harrystyles

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 

And that person is music producer, Y/N. 

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting. 

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing. 

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one. 

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

[avatar-anna]

Moments caught between Harry and Y/n on camera at the Brits

just something fun because harry at the brits was a mess but we love him for it!

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

The red carpet is loud and raucous, bright lights flashing as people shout for the attention of celebrities. One couple in particular is the center of attention the second they step on the carpet.

Harry Styles and a woman walk arm-in-arm, a broad grin on his face and a shy smile on hers. Harry seems to be whispering something in the woman's ear, his nose pressed against the crown of her head. It makes her visibly relax, her grin widening and becoming more authentic as they take a couple more steps.

The woman is the recently revealed Y/n Styles, Harry Styles' long-time partner that he'd somehow kept from the rest of the world for over a decade. But she was here tonight, just as she had been at the Grammys a couple weeks ago, and the cameras now track their every move, intrigued by this new-ish couple.

"Harry! Harry! Harry, over here!"

"Y/n!"

"Harry, did you really marry Y/n when you were in One Direction?"

"Y/n, how does it feel to be with the most famous man in music?"

Y/n, who's hard to miss in a red dress that fits like a glove, shrinks almost imperceptibly against Harry's side. Harry looks down at her, and the husband and wife share a look as if they're having an unspoken conversation.

Then he mutters something to her, and Y/n laughs as Harry kisses her cheek, but not before nudging his nose against it. The shouts double, so used to Harry's stoic approach to being out in the public eye, but both of them move steadily down the carpet, not paying the paparazzi and reporters any mind.

*.*

During their walk down the red carpet, Harry and Y/n come across a barricaded section for fans of the artists in attendance. They all cheer as each celebrity walks by, shouting compliments and proclamations of love for their favorite.

Y/n once again hesitates on Harry's arm, wary eyes darting toward the boisterous fans. At the same time, Harry is called to by a reporter asking for an interview. Checking in with his wife, he departs with a kiss to her forehead, murmuring words the cameras can't quite pick up.

Y/n stands on her own, one arm crossed over her stomach as she tries to stay standing tall. Fans call out to her from the barricade in a way that's difficult to ignore. She waves at them with a small smile, but it's clear they want her to come closer.

With one glance at her husband, who's still speaking with the reporter, and another to a security guard close by, she nods to the latter and they step closer to the barricade, just close enough in proximity that she can actually make out distinct voices and words.

"Y/n we love you!"

"Where did you meet Harry?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Ugh, you are so mother in that dress!"

"What's your skincare routine?"

"What's Harry's?"

The tense set of her shoulders eases a bit, no longer apprehensive of the fans and their potential to be cruel.

"I feel like I met him a lifetime ago," she says. "And I just cleanse, moisturize, and use SPF."

"How come we've never seen you at shows?"

"What's your favorite Harry song?"

"Are you friends with One Direction?"

"Where were you last year when Harry got wasted?"

Y/n chuckles at the last question, her eyes lighting up as her hand covers her mouth. "I've always had a soft spot for 'Ever Since New York.'"

"Taste!" a fan yells, decibels louder above the rest, which garners laughter from everyone.

"Can you make Harry release 'Medicine?'" another asks.

Before Y/n answers, Harry appears by her side, an arm snaking around her waist. "There you are. Got sidetracked by your own interview, did you?"

"They were just asking if I'd help them in their quest for a studio version of 'Medicine.' I'm not sure if I can, though. They don't know how stubborn you are."

A chorus of boos went up at Y/n's answer, but not at her. Harry raised his eyebrows at his wife as if in challenge, but her responding gaze is quite mischievous.

Taking everyone, including Y/n, by surprise, he leans in to kiss her cheek, saying, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, darling?"

A chorus of aww's ring through the small crowd of fans as Harry places his hand on Y/n's lower back, ushering her away from the barricade. Y/n raises an eyebrow at her husband, who is conveniently not meeting her eye. "Nice save."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never call me darling."

Harry lets out a snort. "Lies. Lies on the red carpet tonight."

Y/n rolls her eyes but leans in close to her husband, carefully avoiding the fabric flower around his neck. "Mhmm. Let's go, darling."

*.*

An artist is being interviewed inside the O2, and Harry and Y/n are videotaped in the background.

In the very corner, the couple are leaning in close and talking, a drink in each one of their hands. Harry talks animatedly, gesturing with his drink to the point where it nearly spills on Y/n's dress. Y/n doesn't seem to mind and just throws back her head as she laughs. His eyes light up as he watches her, a word that could only be described as love encompassing his face.

*.*

During one of the performances, a camera pans to Harry's table. The house lights are dim, but he's still visible amongst the flashes of color from the stage. Harry sits in his chair, body slumped a little low so he can rest his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Both of their attention is on the performer onstage, not noticing as a few cameras are pointed in their direction as Y/n scratches the back of Harry's neck absentmindedly. He leans into her touch, looking up occasionally to say something to his wife.

*.*

"And the winner is...Harry Styles!"

Cheers erupted throughout the room, the table Harry is at standing up. Harry himself stays seated and curls in on himself, pumping his arms victoriously as he beams. His eyes are a little glassy, his hair unkempt, a sign that the night has progressed with lots of alcohol consumption.

He turns to his sister Gemma first as he stands up, high-fiving her before giving her a hug and fist-bumping someone else. Then he turns to Y/n, who hasn't stopped clapping since his name had been read for the third time from the envelope.

She opens her arms as if to accept a hug, but Harry has other plans. He leans forward and kisses her in a way that's merely pressing his smile against hers until they mold their mouths into a kiss. Then he kisses her cheek repeatedly, making her shoulders bunch as she smiles brightly.

When Harry finally pulls away, Y/n's cheeks are flushed as she tries to wipe at her husband's face with her thumb. With one last kiss, he heads up to the stage to accept his award.

*.*

Another performance, only this time, everyone is on their feet, including Harry and Y/n.

Harry's arms are wrapped around Y/n's shoulders from behind, his chin on her shoulder. Both of them sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song as Harry mouthed the words in Y/n's ear.

Her grin is wide as her eyes stay trained on the performance. Then, she looks back at Harry, who met her gaze as she says something.

Nodding, he kisses her once on the cheek before nodding back to the stage.

*.*

As Kid speaks into the microphone onstage saying his thank yous, Harry is having the time of his life behind his friend as he speaks to Stanley Tucci.

By now it's a little obvious he's had more than a couple drinks. His hair is nothing short of a mess, his dress shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it had been to begin with, and he throws his head back and laughs in a way that is fueled by drunken delight.

Briefly, the camera turns to Harry's wife, who stands beside Gemma. Y/n's hands hold her face as she watches her husband be ushered offstage by the people around him. She giggles a little before leaning over to Gemma and shaking her head. Gemma laughs along with her, covering her mouth as she says something to the woman beside her.

The camera flashes back to Harry, who turns around one last time so he can blow a kiss to the crowd, more specifically, Y/n, who the camera catches covering her face in her hands, cheeks as red as her dress.

*.*

Paparazzi shout at their latest persons of interest as they make the brief walk from the car to the entrance of a club where the after party for the Brits is being held.

Harry's arms are tightly wrapped around Y/n's waist, face set as he ignores the crowd of people shouting for his attention. Y/n, turned slightly inward towards Harry's chest, keeps pace beside him. Most of her body is covered by what can only be her husband's suit jacket, but with the open front, a hint of a sparkly pink dress can be seen, a drastic change from her award show attire.

The only time they separate is when Harry allows Y/n entrance into the club first before following close behind, his hand once again protectively hovering over the small of her back.

*.*

Photos are strictly forbidden inside of the club, so it isn't until the couple emerges from the doors once again that they're spotted.

Neither of them stumble, though paparazzi wouldn't have cared if they were. All eyes are on Harry's disheveled hair, the heels dangling from his fingers, the suit jacket draped over the arm not around his wife. They're on Y/n, whose dress is completely on display, the beading that covers its entirety flashing with every snap of the camera's shutter.

Then the collar of Harry's silk dress shirt shifted, revealing a harsh purple bruise that hadn't been there before. Neither Harry nor Y/n seem to notice, or understand why the cacophony of shouts became louder, they just continue on, Y/n's hand on the nape of her husband's neck idly scratching until he helps her into the car.

Following suit, Harry climbs inside. For a brief moment, Harry sticks his head out the open window of the car and winks and sticks his tongue out at all the photographers. Y/n appears from her side of the car, leaning across her husband to bring the window up. Not an ounce of care in the world, he leans forward to kiss his wife's exposed jaw. With an exasperated expression on her face and a delicate wave of her fingers, the window goes up, and though the windows are tinted, a hand is visible against the glass as the car peeled away from the curb.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[angelisverba]

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles. 

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it. 

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her. 

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by. 

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again. 

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-” 

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #vampire!harry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn

[honeyangelkiwi]

Lazy Sunday Morning | H.S.

Welcome to my tumblr debut and only bc my bestie said I should.

Plot: Harry wakes up needy

Sexual content: unprotected bed dancing, cockwarming, small breeding kink, 18+

Word count: 1.4k, just short and sweet

The sun was hardly peaking up past the horizon when Harry woke up. He didn’t want to open his eyes because of how exhausted he was. The week was a busy one and this was the one day he could sleep in without any interruptions. The pit of his stomach and the tingle in his thighs woke him though. He could feel how hard his cock was without having to look underneath the blankets that covered him and his girlfriend.

He laid naked, like he did every night, hating the thought of clothes restricting him in his own home and his own bed. However, his body temperature was rising rapidly and the small shift of his body to make himself more comfortable caused a small gasp to slip past his lips. Just the blanket moving slightly against is cock was enough to leave him breathless.

His girlfriend laid tucked into his side. He had an arm wrapped around her and her head was tucked into his chest. He could feel the small breaths of air leaving her lips. It would have been sweet, and he would have adored how cute she was when she slept, except he couldn’t. He couldn’t because those small puffs of air were hitting his nipples and it was driving him mad.

With a hard cock and nipples peaked he brought his head down to her neck. “Baby…” he whispered into her ear and turned slightly so his body was facing hers and he was no longer laying on his back. A deep groan escaped his lips when his cock brushed against her soft stomach.

She stirred a bit, but still was not completely awake. Harry brought his hand up to her face and pushed her hair away. “Baby, wake up, please.” He ends up moaning into her ear. He couldn’t help himself. He needed some kind of friction, and so he had started slowly rutting his hips against her to get some. His hand slides into her hair and he grips it a little too tightly when the head of his cock hits her belly button ring. The cold sensation of the metal felt like too much when he was so hard and so worked up this early.

He starts pressing deep kisses into her neck to keep coaxing her awake. Eventually, her eyes pop open and a slow smirk spreads across her face. “What’s gotten into you, love?” She questions him. He isn’t normally up at this hour on a sunday morning. “Need you, now.” He whimpers into her neck. He was still rutting his hips against her and moaning into her neck as he started sucking a bit harder to leave marks.

Both of them were still tired, but wanted nothing more than that lazy sunday morning sex they don’t have often. “Okay, babe.” She says into his mouth after she pulled his face out from her neck to kiss his lips. She looks into his eyes that lay low with dark lust and tiredness. They both have those lazy smiles on their faces as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips. There is no rush, just slow, languid movements as they savor the feeling they’re drowning in.

Never detaching his mouth from hers he rolls them over so he is hovering over her, keeping his weight on his forearms beside her head. He nestles himself between her legs and groans and how warm and slick her thighs are. “Fuck, baby. Were you dreaming about me? Dreaming about how well my cock fits inside of you?” He gasps out as he brings a hand down to grab his length and tease her. “Yeah, dreamt of how good you make me feel.”

Harry teases himself and her a little bit longer, running his tip between her folds and circling it around her clit. Small gasps and pleas fall from her lips. He looks down into her eyes as he finally pushes himself in, not stopping until there’s no room left inside of her. Pausing, he brings his mouth back down to hers before pulling out and slowly pushing back in. Her mouth parts and he takes the chance to dip his tongue in, exploring as if it was his first time.

He keeps the same slow and lazy pace. Pulling out and pushing back in with a rhythm that leaves them open mouthed against each other. The only sounds coming from them are small moans and gasps for breath as they move their bodies together to chase the high they both need. She brings her hands up to the nape of his neck, grasping at the hairs there tightly. “Harder, please baby. I need it harder.” Her question is answered quickly with a sharper thrust from Harry.

“You’re taking me so well, so early. God, I love how you feel in the morning. Gonna stay like this when we’re done. Not leaving until I’m ready.” He starts mumbling. He’s so lost in how good he feels and he keeps going.” Your pussy was made for me, baby girl. Can’t ever get enough of it.” His thrusts become deeper the more he talks. “Gonna want to wake up like this forever, gonna make you my wife.” A sharp shiver runs down her back and a breathy gasp falls from her lips at that testament.

He hikes her leg up around his waist a bit higher and the loud moan she lets out tells him he’s hitting her sweet spot. He doesn’t fuck into her any faster. He keeps his pace slow, but drills his hips deeper and harder. She can feel the tension building up into her stomach quickly now. “Please…” She gasps out, and Harry knows what she needs. He brings a hand down between them and starts softly rubbing circles into her clit.

She’s clenching around him uncontrollably now. He can feel how tight she’s getting. She’s squeezing his cock so hard that she’s almost pushing him out. His pace picks up now, thrusting into her faster now that the ball in the pit of his stomach is finally about to burst. His head is in her neck and he’s moaning and gasping for air. “Cum for me baby. I need you to cum right fucking now.” He groans and bites down into her neck.

Her mouth parts in a silent moan, unable to form words as her high barrels into her. Her hips and legs are shaking and her fingers are gripping his hair so tight she thinks she may begin to pull it out as she soaks his cock. He doesn’t stop though. He keeps thrusting into her and rubbing her clit until his own orgasm washes over him.

He slams in one more time and stills his hips inside of her. He pushes himself impossibly deep, wanting to feel her milk every last drop of cum he has for her. The moan that pushes past his mouth is pornographic. His cock twitches as rope after rope of cum spurts into her warm cunt and he shudders at the feeling.

Once they’ve both come down from their highs he pulls his face from her neck and smiles down looking into her bright eyes. “I’m still tired, baby.” He whispers as he lowers his lips to hers to peck them softly. “Me too, get off so we can go back to sleep.” She giggles into his mouth and brings her hands to his chest to push him off.

“No, I told you I was staying like this.” The smirk on his face widens before a cheeky smile pops up and dimples show. “Gonna keep my cock right here, nice and warm.” She raises an eyebrow, but can’t help the giddy feeling she has in her stomach. She’s not ready to feel empty yet. Holding on to her he rolls over so they’re laying on their sides and she has a leg draped over his waist.

She nestles her face into his neck and inhales the slight scent of sweat on his skin. “That’s fine with me, love having you inside of me.” She whispers as the tiredness starts to rapidly fall upon her. “Need to make sure you end up with a belly full of my babies.” He says and kisses her forehead before letting his eyes shut and sleep fall across them.

#harry #harrystyles #styles #fanfic #harry!smut #oneshot #harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Twist of Fate

Y/N and Harry are exes who have moved on wit their lives and with other people, but have never stopped loving each other. And in an unbelievable twist of fate reconnect. But after all that time, can they still have a future together?

A Twist of Fate Masterlist

WARNINGS: A wee bit of emotional cheating and a steamy unfaithful make out WITH A VERY CUTE moment with the shaved head 🥹🫶

WC: 15K

To Harry, you had always been the one that got away. Your time together had been so good. You both grew and learned, and loved so much but life just got in the way. The split broke you both because you were certain that no matter what, at the end of the day it would always be you together. Learning that it wouldn’t be was devastating. 

For a while you even stopped believing in love and in the good of the universe. Because if love was real, how cruel did the universe actually have to be to tear you apart? It had been a love like neither of you had ever experienced. Your souls were alight for each other and every interaction you exchanged, every hug, every kiss, every glance, every touch fed the fire of your love and passion for each other for five wonderful years. And when the time came for it to end it was heart wrenching. There was just far too much conflict in time and distance, it sometimes felt like your managers were doing it on purpose, you both knew it wasn’t true, of course. You were just starting to reach new levels of fame and were in high demand and you couldn’t keep doing what you were doing to yourselves in trying to make it work.

So when Harry signed on to yet another film and you had gone into the studio for your album you had to reevaluate your relationship. It had to be done over the phone while there was an entire ocean between you because even though it was the wrong way to go about it, you just couldn’t look into each other’s eyes while admitting defeat. There was absolutely no way. It was hard to even breathe at first, but with time it got a bit better and better, and soon you’d met other people and were on your way to being happy like before. But that brought you to this day. After years of being broken up and never speaking or seeing each other you were both frozen in the hallway of a studio in Los Angeles looking right at each other. Time was at a standstill as you just stared for a moment. Both completely shocked at your run in. Harry’s tongue suddenly felt heavy and knotted up and his hands felt like they were prickling. He just wanted to reach out and touch you.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you.” He finally said. But you barely heard it over the obnoxiously loud pounding of your heart.

“I missed you too.” You whispered breathlessly as you looked him over. A smile came to your lips as you admired him from up close. You chuckled and shook your head because his hair was gone! And he looked great. So well rested, stronger, taller, and more youthful somehow.

“Can I hug you?” He asked and at his question you hurried into his arms, not bothering with a response. 

As soon as you touched everything felt better. The fires in your hearts were burning again because the love had never run out. If anything it got stronger with the distance somehow. But things were not as they used to be. He had a girlfriend of nearly a year now and you had just started dating someone just a couple months prior. You had been resigned to the fact that for your circumstance, love just wasn’t enough so you both moved on. The embrace was long, you were taking your time in his arms and he was taking in your scent. How he missed the sweet and inviting smell that wafted around you like a cloud. It seemed like it had been too soon when you started pulling back from his hold, but he willed himself to loosen his grip to give you the space to depart from him.

“Your hair!” You smiled brightly and he chuckled.

“I know…After the tour ended it just felt like the end of an era, you know? Time for a big change.” He smiled through his explanation and you nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I get that. I love it! It looks great!” You complimented as you looked him over once more.

“Yeah?” He asked timidly and you nodded quickly. He knew he didn’t need your approval, but having it made him feel even better about his decision.

“How long are you in town?” You asked, your hands slid down his arms from around his neck and landed in his. Feeling your soft and warm skin meeting his own had his mind going fuzzy. He could feel his heart reaching out to you with how hard it pounded.

“I uh- I leave tomorrow. I just had a quick thing I needed to take care of. Was only here a few days.” He said and you felt a lump forming in your throat. Gone so soon…a tease of fate.

“Oh.” You responded and he nodded, a sad smile came over his face.

“Yeah.” He squeezed your hands a bit harder, “Ummm, I’m at the Roosevelt. In the Marylin Monroe suite. Maybe we can grab dinner tonight, around 8?” He asked hopefully and you frowned. The universe was heartless and cruel, it was confirmed.

“I actually can’t tonight, Harry. I have plans with my…” you trailed off before shifting your gaze down to the buttons of his shirt. They were all done up now, unlike before, when he barely bothered after the third one up.

“Someone you’re seeing?” He asked and you nodded, not able to look at him as you confirmed.

“Sorry.” You said, finally looking back into his eyes.

“I’m not- I mean, it’s alright. That you’re, you know, putting yourself out there.” He put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked and he nodded. You were holding onto each other for dear life, “I’m happy I ran into you, though. I missed you. Been thinking about you lately as well.” You said again through a small smile.

“I’m really happy I got to see you too.” He confirmed through his own smile; it was definitely genuine this time.

“Well, I should get going and let you get to the studio.” You said and he nodded.

“Right. C’mere.” He said pulling you back in for a hug. This time you inhaled his own warm, musky, and familiar scent as his warmth settled into your own body. “Take good care of yourself.” He mumbled to you before kissing the side of your head.

“You too, H.” You hummed before you let go and you continued down the hall. You stopped and turned back to see that he was still standing there, watching you leave and you smiled, planting a kiss to your palm and pretending like you threw it at him and he smiled brightly as he pretended he caught it and pressed his palm to his heart and you waved before you left the building.

************

“You seem distracted.” Caitlyn, your best friend, pointed out as she glanced over from her desk to you, sitting across from her, just staring out the window behind her.

“I know, I’m sorry…I don’t think I’ll be much help for brainstorming right now.” You said and Caitlyn frowned.

“What happened?”

“I was doing Seb the favor of dropping off a demo of a new song to his producer and on my way out I ummm…H-harry was there.” You said and Caitlyn’s eyes went wide.

“What the hell? I thought he was in London!” She gasped.

“He will be tomorrow. S’his last night.” You explained.

“Are you alright?” She asked you right away.

“I think so…he invited me to dinner at his hotel, but I have plans with Seb tonight so I can’t.”

“Well maybe it’s for the best, friend. I mean…I know how it was with you guys and like, I know you’re both good people, but maybe it wouldn’t be the wisest thing to have dinner with him at his hotel. Alone.” Caitlyn reasoned and you nodded.

“Yeah, I think you’re right…I mean, besides, he has a girlfriend too so best not to do something platonic that could seem sketchy."

“Exactly.” Caitlyn concurred. “Well, are you feeling OK? Did it bring anything up for you?”

“Just a little sadness… nostalgia? I mean, we put in so much work, you know? I swear we were endgame.” You said quietly with some disappointment.

“Yeah…did he seem happy?”

“I guess? I didn’t ask really. I don’t want to know…” you sighed, “Buzzed his head though.” You smiled and Caitlyn gasped audibly.

“No way!” She laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah! It’s a different look, but he looks really good. It suits him more than I would expect.” You chuckled and then fell silent for a few seconds.

“Y/N, do you still…have feelings for him?” Caitlyn asked carefully and you sighed.

“Think I’ll always have feelings for him…” you said lowly. “Like, it’s Harry!” You said and Caitlyn pouted and nodded in understanding. “It was definitely nice to see him though, even if it was fast.”

“Well maybe it’s good that it was a brief run in. Didn’t have to linger and talk about things that would make you both even more sad.” Caitlyn suggested.

“Maybe I need to be more sad…like I’ve been in a bit of a slump writing-wise…” you said.

“Use this sad, Y/N. The nostalgia, the not knowing, the wondering, you really don’t need more than that.” Caitlyn said and you sighed, “And don’t google him. Or his girlfriend.” She warned and you cackled.

“Of course not! I’m not you.” you quipped with a teasing grin.

“Look, cyberstalking is a necessary evil sometimes.”

“I can’t agree with that statement.” You chuckled.

“Just because you suck at it…” Caitlin sassed.

“I don’t think internet stalking is a skill to be proud of, Cait.” You giggled.

“Look, all I know is that one day, my skills will come in handy.” She said simply and you knocked your head back as you laughed at your best friend’s nonsense.

*************

Harry had not been able to stop thinking about you since the afternoon. He had made a quick detour to LA to meet with some of his producers. He was planning to take a bit of a longer break to focus on other projects and passions and just live for himself a little bit. He was just outlining a plan for his next album since he had already renewed his contract.

In truth, he was glad that he had been able to tour when he did because you had just ended things. He just went right into entertain mode and got so much out of his system. But being back on the road, meeting new people, putting himself back out there, it helped a lot. And then the one thing he thought wasn’t possible happened. He met someone else and he moved on. He felt that he had moved into it quite fast as they’d only been friends for a month or so, but they’d been together almost a year now and it was going well. Was he happy? He was. Wasn’t he?

Obviously, he knew he’d eventually see you but he wasn’t ready for it now. It wasn’t the best time because while he’d moved on, you still had an effect on him. He still dreamt of you sometimes. He still felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought of you, even now when he remembered how you had hugged him. He loved the way your fingers felt as you skimmed them down his arms before you could hold his hands just for a moment. You looked so good too…you’d always opted for shorter hair, to the shoulders or a bit less, but it was longer now, it suited you. Your eyes were bright and your smile just as warm and inviting as it had always been. He would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he saw you. But being in your presence like that, it suddenly felt like no time had passed at all. 

He felt kind of stupid for asking you to dinner…in hindsight it was good that you were busy. To be alone with you while his heart and tummy were doing all these weird and fluttery things that they did every time he was around you, that couldn’t be a great idea.

The hardest thing to get over was that he loved how he felt around you, it was magical. Your energies matched so well. What you had together had was unmatched, there wasn’t anyone who had brought that same feeling to him before or now. You cared for him in ways that made him feel seen and understood as a person, the whole of him, good and bad…he had no idea how you did it, but it just came so naturally from you. Your ability to relate and communicate and accept other people as they were was innate and he missed that about you. He missed how easy it was to receive the kind of love and care that you gave and that he needed. Not that he wasn’t feeling cared for now, he definitely was, but it wasn’t the same as with you of course…no one was you. He snapped out of his thoughts when his phone started ringing loudly, cutting off the music he was running to.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He greeted Jeffrey who was on the other line.

“Hey H, how’d the meeting go?”

“Good. We set a schedule for the next couple of things so that’s squared away.”

“Excellent.” Jeffrey hummed, “Look man, I know you’re supposed to be taking off tomorrow but someone reached out to me from A24 about a possible Bowie bio pic. They’re really interested in talking to you about it.”

“I don’t know, Jeff…”

“I told them you might not be interested, but they were really insistent that you’d be great for the role and just wanted to pick your brain a bit. You definitely don’t have to commit to anything yet, they just want to talk to you about it.” He said and he hummed pensively.

“When’s the meeting?”

“They said Thursday of next week. They have this like vision board and a script they want to have you look over and whatnot.”

“Can it be sooner?”

“Nope. The director is on some remote site for another project now and will be back in town on Thursday.” Harry sighed upon hearing this.

“Fuck…fine. I’ll wait it out then. Can you get me another room then? I still have to check out of here tomorrow.”

“Yeah man, I’ll take care of it now and send the details over, alright?”

“Sounds good. Talk soon.”

“Yep, love you man. Bye.”

“Love ya’. Bye.” Harry said and then hung up.

Honestly, Harry had no interest in doing this film, he was certain they could get someone else, someone far better in his opinion. And he’d definitely watch it, but right now he had every interest in staying longer and getting to see you again. As reckless as it might be to see you with all of these feelings brewing in him, it was a need. It brought him back to old times, where even when you’d be busy, you’d do reckless things like stay extra days in a country just to be able to cross paths while you both worked. Or fly from one end of the US to the other just to have dinner…it was kind of an awful habit to just do things like that on a whim, but he felt that he could handle this. After all, old habits die hard and indulging in something that reminded him of how in love he was, despite the struggles, it was worth remembering.

***********

All throughout dinner so far you had been thinking of Harry. How maybe you should’ve made an alternate plan to see him after dinner. Like maybe grab coffee, or a glass of wine, perhaps visit your favorite ice cream shop…but you halted yourself when it got to the ice cream because that would be far too special for just a catch up. That’s the place you realized you were in love with him and surely the resurgence of those feelings would be strong, to say the least. 

“What’s going on, babe?” Sebastian asked you and you huffed.

“Just had a weird day.” You explained as you played with your food a bit more, hoping that your appetite would increase.

“Why’s that?”

“I ummm… I saw Harry.” You decided to just tell him straight up.

Sebastian had been someone you’d known for a while, ever since you were starting out. You would semi-frequently run into each other at open mic nights, karaoke bars, talent shows, scouting shows. You weren’t close friends or anything deep, you just had drinks with the other few people who were nice and chill and struggling to get their big break. Luckily, yours came quite swiftly and then you were out of that scene. He’d never gotten your number, but when you made it and your first song went #1 he did send you a fan letter, as he had no other way to reach you. And he was so happy for you and proud of you, and you reached out. That’s when you learned he was in talks with a label then too. He gave you his number and you started catching up a bit and then Harry happened and you friend zoned him (according to him, you had never really been interested like that). Once you got with Harry you were MIA for a bit, you just didn’t know who you could trust at the start since Harry was far more famous and super private about everything, understandably so. 

But then, Harry met all your friends, Seb included, and he saw how you were with Harry and he let go of whatever hope he had that you two could be together. He had shared that with you a bit after you’d gotten together. He just couldn’t believe that after dating someone as big as Harry you’d give him a chance. But in all fairness, anyone who had experienced you and Harry together could tell you how palpable your love was. How intense and dedicated you were to each other for the near five years you spent together. Lots of conversations started with a “When you guys get married…” and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Of course you wanted to get married and have a life together. All this to say that Sebastian knew what it meant or could mean for you to see Harry again. He had been there for all of it and now he was a bit scared…

“Today?” He asked and you nodded.

“Well, it was more of a running into type of situation than a deliberate seeing each other.” You explained.

“I see. Where?”

“At the studio. I was on my way out as he was coming in for something.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so…I’m just…I don’t know, it brought up a lot of shit, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“So that’s why I’m a bit…weird. I just…I don’t know. Like I saw him and I missed him, you know?”

“And does he miss you?”

“He said he does.” You shrugged, “I mean, I told him about you, so it wasn’t like that.” You emphasized, “But yeah, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” He said reaching his hand out for yours and you took it as you glanced down to watch your hands connect.

“It’s fine.” 

“How long is he in town?”

“He leaves tomorrow morning. Asked me to dinner, that’s when I brought you up and said we had plans.” You smiled at him and he smirked.

“Oh wow…I mean, I would’ve understood if you ditched me for thee Harry Styles. But I appreciate you choosing to keep our plans.” He said with a slightly smug and victorious grin.

“Of course, babe.” You assured him with a smile.

But that didn’t mean that mentally you weren’t sitting across from Harry at the Roosevelt having an equally nice glass of wine and catching up over what the last couple years apart had been like for you.

*************

Harry very seldom used social media, especially for celebrity gossip purposes, but he found himself hunched over the table in his bedroom eating dinner alone while typing up your name in the Instagram search bar and going to the tags. Much like his, your instagram was now for professional use, so he knew there wouldn’t be anything personal to find there so he didn’t bother with your profile, hashtags were where it was at. And as soon as the page loaded, an avalanche of images came up. He went to the first one and it was a fan video, secretly taken of course, of you over dinner with your boyfriend. Sebastian?

“You’re dating Sebastian? That Hozier rip off? Really?!” He muttered to himself bitterly.

He watched the clip replay a few times.You two were clearly talking about something a bit serious as you weren’t smiling at first. But then he reached for your hand and you took it and smiled. He selfishly hoped you were talking about him just then… 

of course, he would hate it if someone took videos of him like that at a private dinner, but he now understood why people did it. It was better than just seeing it with your own two eyes. This was forever. He could sit there all night and watch as your lips slowly turned up towards the end and smiled at him. He could watch your hand reaching out to touch Sebastian’s. He could sit there and theorize about where this conversation was going…it could just be a serious topic of conversation, an amicable break up, some good news… Crumbs. That’s all these things were, just crumbs. He scrolled a bit and got to some other photos and videos of Sebastian at your shows, you at his shows, out and about…it was making his stomach twist up with jealousy and regret. 

Harry didn’t find that he got jealous much anymore, he felt more secure in himself and in his relationships, he had matured, a lot of things went into that. But a part of his heart would always belong to you and seeing you sharing your affection with someone else, it made him sick to his stomach. He scrolled down further, hoping to see something about you two but there was only disappointment. 

When you were together he was so fucking paranoid that the public would ruin what you had that there was no PDA, everything was so clandestine…you’d been papped alone a few times walking around together, at events, and a few other mundane situations but not like what you had with Sebastian over the last couple months. There were no pictures of you two holding hands, or smiling at each other the way you often did when you were alone or with trusted friends and family. There were no videos of you kissing in the corner of a dark party or side stage at a show…and whatever videos you had with each other…well, those had to go in case any of you ever got hacked or something. He did have a few pictures, but they were in his albums at home and probably scanned into a USB or something similar and it was just lying around collecting dust somewhere. He tried searching you two up and yeah, nothing. Just the couple things he knew of.

“Fucking ridiculous…” he mumbled with his mouth full as he went back to stalking you and Sebastian just a little bit longer. Sebastian had you all over his page; sure he was verified but he was still a smaller artist when compared to him or you, so he could afford to show a bit of his private life without people losing their heads over it.

Harry stopped when he started getting sad and also when a text from Tay came in responding to his news of his change of travel plans. Then he felt bad for lying, for staying longer than he needed to. But the sooner he went back home, the sooner he could forget all about you and what was and immerse himself in the world he lived in now. But then, the sooner he left the sooner he’d be without you close by. The sooner he’d be breathing someone else’s air…sure, there were millions of people in LA, but knowing that you were one of them did things to him.

…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….

If there was one thing you hated to do that Caitlyn loved to do, it was work out. You’d always been a bit lazy for it and did the bare minimum you could get away with. which was still excessive in your opinion, especially when you’d go with Caitlyn. One of her friends, Melissa, had invited the two of you to her friend’s new pilates studio and well, that was one of your hard limits. Barre and Pilates both were! Like what kind of sick fuck can bend that way? Is what you constantly thought to yourself as you’d literally have to have someone hold your body in certain positions to complete the routine.

Since Melissa knew Ilse, the owner of the studio, you were working out in a private studio, which you were eternally grateful for just to spare you from embarrassment at the very least. The last thing you wanted was to become an internet meme because you somehow got tangled up in a pilates machine.

“Alright, great form ladies and just hold a few more seconds…” Ilse hummed to you all. She was sweet to encourage you as if she weren’t currently holding you in position.

“What is going on out there? It’s getting loud.” Melissa pointed out, which made Ilse, turn as well.

“I’m going to go check it out.” She said releasing you from your position before rushing out of the smaller studio.

“Thank fuck.” You sighed as you just left your legs in the suspenders you’d been in for that position Ilse had you in.

“How you holding up?” Caitlyn asked with a grin.

“This is…terrible.” You confessed and you all laughed a bit. “Who wants to leave and feel like a wet noodle for three days after?” You whined.

“It feels great! I love the soreness.” Melissa said and you scoffed.

“You’re insane.” You said to Melissa.

“I am. Clinically.” She agreed and you laughed again at her joke. You was just laying there, legs still suspended in the air, at least this way you were getting good circulation. But mostly because you were afraid to move with how sore you already felt after just a half an hour of pilates. Then Ilse came back in capturing their attention.

“Harry Styles is here.” She said and this made Caitlyn turn to you quickly. You then attempted to sit up properly, “He’s gonna do his thing in here too so that no one bugs him.” she explained. You were still fighting to get up from your laying position with your legs suspended above you. Finally you got your foot out of the fucking loop and were trying to get the other one out before he came in, “Y/N, be careful.” Ilse warned as she started to make her way over to help. But she paused when the door opened behind her and in came Harry in a gray, long sleeve shirt and some tiny, navy blue shorts. You swallow thickly and pulled harder on the cable.

“Ilse, thank you so much for letting me join-” A small shriek interrupted Harry as he came into the private studio. They all saw you fall out of the machine and they hurried over and huddled above you. And there you were on the ground, one of your feet still stuck in the loop of the cable, leaving it extended high above the rest of your body. How humiliating… Your eyes met his and you saw as he rolled his lips together to prevent his laughter from spilling out. You’d always had an aversion to exercising as he recalled.

“Oh my god! Are you OK?!” Ilse asked you. And then you were bursting into laughter, causing Ilse’s shoulders to lose their tension. 

When your eyes met his again as you laughed he sputtered on his own laughter before it just spilled out of him and then your friends laughed along at your mishap as well. Harry was quick to step up and help you get your foot free and then Ilse helped you up.

“Thank you.” You said to Ilse and Harry with a warm face and bashful smile.

“Of course. Do you need ice or something?” Ilse asked and you shook her head.

“I’m fine. I’ll just sit the rest out. Do some free weights.”

“Real convenient, missy.” Caitlyn mumbled and you grinned. Harry soon greeted Caitlyn and then properly greeted Melissa.

“So how do you guys know each other?” She asked the three of you.

“Just industry friends.” You said quickly with a decisive nod and Harry glanced at you. Your eyes averted to Cailtyn’s who just looked to Harry after a few seconds.

“Cool, well let’s keep going then.” Ilse suggested. Since you had decided to just do some free wights across the room Harry took your spot as Ilse guided them through the rest of the routine. 

Harry was stealing glances. Not that you weren’t, but you were far more subtle about it. He couldn’t help it though. He knew her body just as well as he knew his own. And just watching you move was bringing back so many memories. He’s the one that discovered you had a birthmark right near the crook of your inner thigh. He’s the person who discovered that you had a group of freckles and beauty marks on your mid back that almost resembled the entire Orion constellation. He’s the person who knew that you hated that one of your boobs was “much smaller” than the other. He thought they were pretty symmetrical, but whatever. He knew every scar you had. He knew each tattoo, he’d been there for many of them. He knew that there was this one eyelash you had that always grew in a little crooked and he’d always help you pluck it out after you’d beg and beg because it ruined your mascara. He knew the shape you liked to pluck your eyebrows in. He knew the shape of your lips and the shade of your eyes. He knew everything there was to know about you. 

So yeah, he was looking and remembering all the little things about you that made you the beautiful, smart, talented, and unique person that you were. He hadn’t allowed himself to love and obsess over anyone like that ever again, it took too much out of him. Just you. 

“I thought you were supposed to leave a few days ago?” Caitlyn said. And well, if Caitlyn knew this, that meant you had talked about her to him.

“Something came up. Have another meeting on Thursday. S’for a film, the director isn’t back in town until then.” He elaborated.

“Ooh what film?”

“A possible Bowie biopic.” He said and she looked impressed.

“Nice. Are you interested in the project?” She asked just as you bent over to grab your water bottle and Harry got a little lost for a moment. 

He barely heard a word Caitlyn had said, he just watched you shamelessly. God, he missed that perfect, little body of yours. Seeing as Caitlyn was facing the mirror while she talked to him, she could see your reflection and obviously, what Harry was staring at. She loved you and Harry together, but the logistics were kind of fucked and you were stretching yourselves so thin, it was unhealthy. You hadn’t ended things because you weren’t in love; in fact, you were so in love that you couldn’t do that to each other anymore. You had tried to wait it out, but it was exhausting you two to degrees that just was a bit irresponsible for some of the biggest stars on the planet, so you went your own ways.

“She’s happy, you know?” Caitlyn said quietly and Harry’s eyes flickered away from you to hers. He sighed and nodded.

“I know.” He said, “With Sebastian?”

“She told you it was him?” Caitlyn asked. Harry had always been a little wary around Sebastian because it was fairly obvious to him that he had a thing for you. He never tried anything and was always respectful, but just that jealousy he felt over you was palpable. And it would make Harry be on high alert when you guys was around him.

“No. I had to…fucking look it up.” He admitted with slight irritation. Caitlyn snorted quietly on a laugh causing him to shoot her a glare. “Shut up.” He mumbled with a bashful smile as he smacked her with his towel on the leg.

“Ew! Unsanitary!” She scoffed through her sniggers.

“Fuck you, I haven’t even used it yet.” He chuckled. When their little fit died down she got serious again.

“You seem happy too.” 

“I…I am.” He nodded once, “But it’s her. She’s…” he trailed off as he glanced at you again, “She was it for me, you know?” He said with some sadness. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t prepared to see her yet.” 

“That’s what she said too. Maybe it’ll always be that way? Like you guys had something extraordinary. It was special, some real soul mate shit, you know? Of course it’s going to be hard to get over. I literally thought that was all BS until I saw how you guys were together.” She said and he smiled.

“Yeah.” He agreed.

“What do you want?”

“To just be around her.” He said and she hummed.

“Then be friends.” Caitlyn suggested and he immediately shook his head.

“I couldn’t…like I’m happy for her, but I don’t want to see it in my face. And I’m sure she feels the same about that. Seeing each other have everything we had and more? No way.”

“Then…I don’t know, Harry.”

“Can you just ask her i-if we could grab a coffee or talk or something?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because she’ll say no.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.” He said, “What if she thinks I’m just trying to…to make her doubt or something?”

“She knows you’d never hurt her and you know she’d never hurt you.”

“I know, but what if…”

“What if you guys do something stupid like cheat?” Caitlin asked bluntly and he nodded. “Well then that’s up to you guys.” she said simply, “I did tell her it was probably good that she couldn’t have dinner with you the other night…I could see something happen during a moment of weakness. All that attraction and love you guys still have for each other…I mean, I can’t see either of you walking away without someone getting hurt if you’re not overly cautious. Maybe it’s a temptation or maybe it’s what needs to happen to open that door again…I don’t know, H. But if you do want to see her again just be careful with your hearts and those of the others you’re involved with now.” She admonished and he nodded.

“You’re right.” He said and glanced down at his knees instead of at you. “I don’t want to fuck anything up for her.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m already fucked.” He chuckled breathily with sadness in his eyes.

************

When their session was over you all said their goodbyes. Harry headed back into the locker rooms to have a shower though, so he didn’t walk out with you three. You had gone to have some breakfast at Melissa’s house and were in the middle of eating when your phone pinged. When you picked it up from the table you saw “Harry” on the text notification and you locked it and set it down with a pounding heart. Caitlyn looked to you with a knowing glance and you sighed and went back to your food. Melissa was cool, she was an influencer who was dabbling in TV, which is how she met Caitlyn. But you weren’t really personal friends with her yet so you didn’t feel like bringing Harry up right now. You could talk to Caitlyn about it on your way home.

As soon as you were in the car you looked at his text and smiled at the screen. Harry was sweet, a bit of an over-thinker, but you loved that about him. He was thoughtful of how he wanted to be perceived and how he came across.

“Did he ask to see you?” Caitlyn asked and you nodded and locked your phone before taking off. You sat in silence for just a few minutes before Caitlyn turned to you. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” You confessed. “If I see him…alone…” you sighed, “s’just that after seeing him I realized I still feel too much for him.” You explained. “I don’t want to fuck things up with Seb or hurt him in any way.  Like you know that I care about him. So much. But this is Harry, you know? Do you think Seb’ll understand if I want to meet up with Harry?” You asked and Caitlyn sighed.

“Girl, I don’t know…but after speaking a bit with Harry I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” She said and you frowned.

“What did he say?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s just…hanging on by a thread I think.” She said and you frowned. “Like you’re both in relationships, good ones, that seem to make you guys happy. And I mean…you guys are each other’s weakness, you know? And I care about you both so much and I don’t want you to accidentally do something that you’ll regret and hate yourselves for. Like I get it, you miss each other, but would tempting fate fix things or make them worse?” She asked and you sighed.

“You’re right. You’re so right.” You agreed.

“He knows you’re with Sebastian.” Caitlyn said and you turned to her for a moment with confusion.

“How?”

“He was looking you up online or something is what he said.” Upon hearing that you giggled and Caitlyn started to chuckle as well. Before you knew it, you were both laughing hard at how crazy that was. Him scouring the internet to find information about you? “If Harry internet lurks you can too. You’re missing out…” Caitlyn said after your laughing spell had died down.

“Yeah, no thanks. I have some dignity.” You grinned and Caitlyn rolled her eyes. 

**************

Harry waited and waited. And waited well into the night for Y/N to respond to his text. He had no idea if you’d even read it. Maybe you had changed your number and he’d texted someone else by mistake. He was getting antsy, he was only in town for four more days. So he did a double text, just to verify that it was still your number and when no response came after another 10 minutes he just settled against his pillows and pulled out the book he had brought along with him. He wasn’t even hungry anymore after that disappointment.

**************

Sebastian had come over to your house for dinner at the last minute and now you were just washing up your dishes from that when he came into the kitchen glowering at you.

“What the matter?” You asked with some concern and he brought your phone up to your face so that you could see what had him so upset. You pouted a bit when you read Harry’s second text, he was just asking if it was still your number. You felt bad for leaving him on read now.

“You saw him again today and he asked you out again?” Sebastian asked with irritation. He had every right to be irritated without context, but the explanation would easily appease his anger.

“I didn’t plan to see him. Me and the girls were at pilates and he showed up at that studio. I have no control over where he goes! What was I supposed to do? Leave?” You asked him and he sighed, “The trainer had him come work out in the studio with us because people were flocking him. But when he came over I even left to do strength training instead. Ask Caitlyn! I didn’t even talk to him!” You said quickly as he searched your eyes. The fear and panic in them made him doubt you. “He just wants to catch up.” You said as he set your phone down on the counter with a sigh.

“I want to believe you but-”

“Then believe me, Sebastian!” You said with exasperation as you shut the water off and took off the rubber gloves you were wearing. “The evidence is there on my phone. I haven’t even answered him!” You pointed out and he sighed.

“Why is he so determined of doing this? Doesn’t he have a girlfriend to hang out with?” 

“It’s just…a lot seeing each other after so long. He probably just wants to reconnect and be friends? Maybe if I just talk to him-”

“I don’t want you talking to him, Y/N.” Sebastian said and you frowned. “I don’t trust him and I don’t like how pushy he’s being about this.”

“He’s not being pushy…” you sighed.

“He is! You left him on read and he doesn’t take the fucking hint.” Sebastian argued.

“Well maybe if I just respond and explain that you’re not comfortable with us meeting up alone then he’ll-”

“Oh, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian cut you off.

“Well you’re the one who’s upset over this, Seb. I honestly wasn’t even going to respond to him!”

“If you’re not going to respond just delete the message and block the number.” He insisted, handing your phone over. You frowned as you glanced down at it in your hands and then up at him.

“No, Seb. I’m not blocking him for no real reason!” You pushed back.

“Your boyfriend being upset over it is a real reason, Y/N. He wants you back! Why can’t you see that?” He groaned in frustration.

“No, he doesn’t. He just wants to talk and catch up!” You countered.

“Well I don’t care what he wants, Y/N. I don’t want you to see him. I forbid it!” He put his foot down and you scoffed. 

“You forbid it? What the fuck? Who are you to tell me who I can and can’t see in my free time, Seb? I think I’ve respected you and our relationship by leaving it and not answering him. I even told you when I first saw him-”

“Only because I asked! And now again, you see him and don’t say anything about it until I see these texts!”

“One sided texts!” You added and he shook his head.

“I waited my turn and I chose to be with you, Y/N. And right now you need to choose me back.” He said and you sighed as you started growing anxious and frustrated.

“I’m with you, Seb! I already chose you! There’s nothing for me to choose right now! You’re the one putting Harry in the middle of us right now.” You argued.

“You’re honestly telling me that if he says he wants you back you wouldn’t hesitate to choose me over him? You’d just tell him to fuck off?” He asked and you frowned.

“That’s… that’s a silly thing to think. Why are you even arguing hypotheticals, Seb? This will get us nowhere-”

“Tell me, now. Who would you choose, Y/N?” He insisted more seriously and you shook your head.

“I’m not playing this stupid game with you, Seb.” You said as you crossed your arms. Holding your position.

“You refusing to make a choice over this speaks fucking volumes, Y/N.” He said with disappointment before he stormed out of the kitchen. You took a second to let your mind try and catch up with how all of this went south so quickly. Once you were up to speed you hurried over to the front door where he was sliding his feet into his shoes.

“Where are you going?” You asked him with welled up eyes and he refused to answer you. “Sebastian!” You raised your voice.

“I’m done.” He seethed, finally responding to you, “I’m done playing second fiddle to him, Y/N.” He said pointedly before leaving your place with a loud thud of the door slamming. 

You groaned into your hands and your tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so fucking angry at him and at Harry…it was making you boil over as you returnedd to the kitchen and grabbed your phone and called him. He didn’t pick up, you tried again after a few moments and it went straight to voicemail. You were so angry at him you almost threw your phone at the wall. But before you could, you decided to make another call, this one to Harry.

“Y/N?” He answered almost right away and before you could berate him for his texts you started to sniffle, “Hey? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked softly. His voice was drenched with concern.

“Seb saw your texts and I think he just broke up with me.” You whimpered as more tears started to fall. You started to sob a bit harder and just dropped yourself on the couch. Harry felt awful…he hadn’t meant to stir up trouble for you, he just missed you.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I said anything bad or suspicious.” He apologized.

“You didn’t. He just thinks you’re…trying to get me back. He asked me to block you and I said no because that’s stupid. We’re fucking grown ups, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed as he listened.

“And he…he asked me if you wanted to get back together with me, if I would I choose him over you.” You said and he bit his lip.

“What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say anything! I told him he was being ridiculous for bring up hypotheticals like that. Like what would we gain from that, you know? And he got more angry and said that not choosing was basically choosing…”

“I see how he came to that conclusion. I mean…it makes it seem like…he wouldn’t like the choice you’d make.” He explained.

“Well it’s not like that! I just…I don’t know, Harry.” You said before gasping for air as you started to cry harder. Harry wished he could be there to hold you and tell you everything would be fine. He’d just let you get it out for a little bit.

“I’m really sorry for stirring up trouble for you, love.” Harry apologized with full sincerity. 

“It’s alright.” You whispered as your crying diminished.

“It’s not…I should’ve taken the fucking hint. I just miss you and want to spend time with you before I go. I was upset that you didn’t answer me after this morning. I should’ve just left it alone and-”

“I miss you too, H.” You cut him off. You sniffled as you just stared up at the ceiling. “Fucking ridiculous amounts.” You added and he smiled.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“I’m sorry for not responding to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. S’just that after talking to Caitlyn about it I just got a little…scared I guess. Like…what if we like have a moment of weakness and do something fucked up and-”

“Love, no.” he responded even if he had the same fear as her.

“Is is that crazy to think about? We obviously still share a lot of feelings for each other and I would hate to…to mess anything up for you if I…if I’m not strong enough.” You explained.

“If anyone’s not strong enough here it’s me.” He said and you smiled, “God…like…I don’t know if wanting to see you is wrong or not and I don’t care. All I know is that you mean a lot to me and I’ve missed you.”

“Enough to lurk me on the internet?” You asked with a smile and he sighed.

“Fucking Caitlyn…” he chuckled and you laughed. “So pathetic.” Muttered lowly.

“S’not…” you appeased him.

“So you’ve done it too?” He asked hopefully.

“No way.” You said quickly and he chuckled, “It’s not because I’m not curious I just…I don’t want t-to see you with her.” You admitted and a silence came over you two for several moments as the information settled. “And well, it’s not even about her really, it’s just…you I guess.” You confessed, “It’s such an ugly feeling.” You explained with a frown, “It makes my stomach hurt and it makes me annoyed and my chest feels heavy and like-”

“You get jealous.” He said and you sighed. You’d never been of the jealous kind. Specially not with Harry, you knew that even God would have to kill one of you to keep you apart. There was no chance of straying from each other. So this feeling festering inside of you was absolutely foreign to you and you never wanted it again. You’d seen a photo of them briefly on some gossip website when a friend had sent a link about some crazy rumor they’d written about you. It was a suggestion for another article read at the bottom of the article about you. The photo above the title was of them two, you only saw it quickly before you closed out of the tab, never wanting to see it again. But god, it was truly such an ugly feeling. You literally felt it growing out of your heart and infecting your…you’d been moody the rest of that day; it was awful.

“Yeah, I guess I do…feel jealous.” You admitted and he bit his lip for a second.

“While I was lurking instagram the other day? I saw a video of you and Sebastian kissing at some concert of his. At the side of the stage?” He said.

“Yeah?” You asked and he sighed.

“Yep. I-it made me so…mad. Like a helpless kind of mad. And then sad.” He said and you frowned, “It made me sad because we didn’t have that. I hate that I kept you so hidden…I should’ve been less afraid of the public, of the fans, of all the external bullshit that fucks with my head. I wish people could’ve see how happy we were. Wish they could’ve see how much we love each other.” He said and you felt your stomach flip when he said that. He didn’t say “how much we loved each other”, he said “love”, present tense, as in right now. It felt good to hear but it also scared you because you realized that you too were hanging on by a thread.

“You know, I kinda love that it’s just between us. Like back then it was tough to hide like that, but now I appreciate it more. I felt…safe and protected and normal when we were together, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He hummed. “Do you ever think about us?” He asked meekly.

“Of course I do. A lot of the time…” you said with a smile. “Like early last year, Seb opened for someone at the Forum and he like…fell in love with it.”

“Rightfully so, s’the perfect venue.” He said and you hummed.

“Literally. So he bought us club passes and we went to see John Mayer like a few months later and we had the same exact seats that we had for Elton John. Remember?”

“Oh, god…do I…” he laughed and you started to laugh as well. “And Jeffrey had to get them to delete the video of us sneaking into the family bathroom, remember?” He started chuckling.

“Oh, I remember.” You giggled. 

“At least we was fast…”

“We weren’t. We were in there for almost half an hour.” You pointed out.

“Were we?” He asked in shock and you laughed.

“Yeah! You said you wanted to to enjoy it or something like that. And when I said we should go home then you said-”

“And miss Elton John?” He cut her off and you laughed as you nodded.

“Literally, you paused, mid-fuck. Like mid thrust, Harry.” You cackled as he laughed loudly over the line, “As if we weren’t already missing the best bits anyway…” you said and he smiled as the laughter died down. “I’d never done anything in public like that before.” You said, “You tainted me.” You joked.

“Yeah, you tell yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night, love.” He chuckled and bit his lip as he recalled how you were biting down on his shirt to contain your sounds. He had no idea what had gotten into him that night, all he recalls is the you were wearing this perfume that was so intoxicating, he just wanted to be buried against your neck. Kissing you, inhaling that sweet and warm scent that made his head spin. He was touching you in some way the whole fucking time until he sneakily brought his fingers up your skirt and touched you over her underwear slowly until you were drenched for him. He shifted a bit when he felt his cock hardening up in his sweats at the memory of what happened afterwards in that bathroom.

“OK, thanks…just a funny little story to lighten up the mood.” You said and he hummed.

“I want to see you.” He said decidedly and you bit your lip.

“I don’t know if we should, H.”

“Right now. Just FaceTime.” He said and you shot up.

“Harry, no…I’m all snotty and shit-”

“Well if we’re not going to see each other in person before I go at least like this. Please, love.” He said and you sighed as you wiped your eyes a bit before the request to FaceTime came in and you accepted and seconds later there you were. Face to face. You stayed quiet for a few moments, just looking at each other, the air was tense with all of the thoughts and feeling being left unsaid.

“I do want to see you.” You said, finally breaking the silence and he hummed. He was in bed, his free arm was pulled back, supporting his head and he was clearly topless from what you could see. 

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Of course. I just…feel like it’s asking for trouble.”

“Why?” He chuckled.

“Because! I mean, look at you just now.” You said with a giggle and he glanced down a bit and smirked.

“How do you think I felt today at the gym?”

“I was working out!”

“And I’m just laying in bed.” He responded simply. 

“This is bad, H.”

“What is?” He chuckled.

“The way I’m…looking at you and thinking about you.” You said softly.

“And what way is that?” He asked and you shook her head bashfully as he smiled a bit, “It’s not like I’m not thinking the same things about you…” He responded and you bit your lip nervously. “Earlier today I was remembering how I found your birthmark.” He said with a placid smile.

“Didn’t even know it was there…”

“You’re welcome by the way.” He hummed and you rolled her eyes at him playfully. “When did you move out of your flat?” He asked changing the subject. He just assumed as he didn’t recognize your surroundings.

“Last year. Finally could afford a house. S’small for the area, three bedrooms. Very English cottage/craftsman style, original architecture. Obviously, the inside is renovated, but the external structure is in great shape.” You described and he smiled. “It reminded me of the houses in the country we saw when we visited your family together up north? The ones with the brick exteriors.” You said and he nodded and smiled, “It has a lovely front garden…there are tons of windows so the sun shines in nearly all afternoon. And the garage was turned into like a studio apartment and I’m planning to renovate it into a little music studio once I save up enough.”

“That sounds really nice. So where are you at now?” He asked.

“West Hollywood west.” You said and his eyes widened.

“No way. Dude, I am like down the street from you right now.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Oh! Really?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t extend my stay at the Roosevelt so Jeffrey moved me to the SLS on La Cienega.” He explained, “I could literally jog to you if I wanted.” He chuckled and you smiled and bit your lip for a moment. It was already dark out…so no one would see him…

“Would you really?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, of course! Had to skip my cool down cardio today because there were too many people at the gym.” He said and you thought about it for a moment. 

Harry was ready to jump out of bed and throw some clothes on and run out if you said he could. He just wanted to be around you again. Even talking like this was nice, just getting to see your expressions and watch you form your thoughts and listen to him.

“Maybe you running over here is not a great idea…” you said when you heard a police siren down the street. He tried to mask his disappointment at this but nodded, “I could pick you up?” You suggested instead.

“Uh yeah, that’s cool too.”

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“No, just work out and hanging out in the area.”

“OK, so no strict curfew.” You smiled and he shook his head.

“Nope.”

  “Ok. Ummm, I’m gonna try to call Seb again and let him know.”

“Does he stay with you?” Harry asked.

“No, he actually lives in Pasadena.”

“Ooh…” Harry exclaimed with a scrunch in his face, “That’s a commute just because of the traffic.”

“I know. It’s not really that far, but man he has to take all the shitty freeways.” You said, “I think he probably went home after we argued. But I just want to let him know that I’m having you over just to avoid any issues.” You explained and he nodded. He loved that about you, you’d always been really considerate like that and it made him smile that you were still that way.

“Oh yeah, of course. I should probably do the same.” He said and you smiled.

“OK. I’ll text you my ETA when I’m heading out.”

“Sounds good.” He nodded and then you hung up.

You tried calling Sebastian a couple times before giving up and going to finish the dishes you had started on, maybe he’d call back. You finished up and still no response from Seb. Then you packed up the leftovers and still he had not called you back. You sighed and just called again, killing a bit of time by going around the house, lighting some of the candles you had out. But as it rang out to his voicemail once again you decided to just leave a message.

“Hey babe.” You started out, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. It’s just that…Harry is really important to me and I miss him, OK? I miss getting to be his friend and he just wants to reconnect a bit, OK? His hotel is like 2 miles away from the house and he’s going to come here for a bit. I’m not sure if you’re on the road home or just went out somewhere nearby, so I’m just letting you know in case you want to come by whenever. I love you, Seb. Bye.” You finished and then hung up. You then texted Caitlyn just to let her know what happened and assured her you’d call the following day to catch her up on everything. By that time it had been about 20 minutes and you texted Harry to let him know you were on your way.

Harry was relieved to hear back from you with your ETA. After it took more than five minutes for you to get back to him he decided to have a quick shower so that he wouldn’t have to do it if he got back too late. He was so nervous, he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at getting to be with you again. And when it got to two minutes of you arriving he made his way down to the lobby. He was quick as he scurried out and just as he was walking past the valet you pulled up to the curb.

“Uber for Garry?” You called out the passenger window with a playful grin and he laughed as he opened up the door and settled in.

“Hi.” He greeted you, his smile wide.

“Hi.” You responded and then you bit your lip to avoid smiling like Demi Lovato in Camp Rock. You were far too happy, you just needed a second to gather yourself. You were just taking each other in for a moment before someone honked at you and you jumped as the harsh sound startled you both. “Jesus…Sorry.” You mumbled before you started peeling away from the pick up area. Harry was chuckling beside you and you just rolled your eyes at him as he poked a bit of fun.

“How’d it go with Seb.” He asked, changing the subject.

“It didn’t…that’s why I took so long. Tried him a bunch of times while I finished cleaning up after dinner. Gave him a bit to call back and he didn’t so I left him a message. I did tell him that he could drop by whenever just to…see for himself that it’s fine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Yeah…I just don’t get where all this suddenly came from. Like, I’ve been straight up about everything since I saw you last week and he was fine about it.”

“Maybe he’s just jealous.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean he has to distrust me.” You said and he nodded.

“That’s true. Well look, let’s not worry about it now. We can have a nice time and catch up…” He smiled and you nodded.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“Nope.”

“Should I stop somewhere? Or there’s food at the house if you want that.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, that’s alright.” He smiled and you nodded. “Do you still cook a lot?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.

“Oh yeah, avidly. The kitchen continues to be my happy place.” You confirmed. “Caitlyn is on this vegan kick until next Thanksgiving, so I’ve been trying out a bunch of new stuff that she’s recommended I learn to cook for her.” you explained with a smile, “Seb is losing his mind about it though, all he eats is brown rice, chicken, and fish.” You explained, “Tonight I made like a veggie stir fry type of thing? With zucchinis and other types of squash, carrots, mushrooms, bell peppers, and some beyond ground beef.…”

“That sounds excellent.” he said and you smiled.

“I thought so too! Never thought I’d have to persuade a grown man into eating that many vegetables.” You said of Seb and Harry chuckled.

“I don’t even want to know what that means…” he mumbled jokingly as he glanced out the window and you laughed. 

“Not like that…” you giggled.

“Sure…sure.” Harry hummed as he side eyed you, who just shook you head in response. “Well you don’t have to persuade me. Though I’m not sure if I should just have you persuade me depending on what you’re persuading people with.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I promised to make his favorite meal next time. That was the persuasion.” You clarified and he chuckled.

“I mean, I’ll still take that…do you even remember-”

“Of course! Branzino al Limone. How could I forget?” You asked with a smile as you glanced to him briefly, and he grinned in satisfaction. “Perfected the recipe last time I went to Italy actually.” 

“Why? For me?” He asked smugly.

“Ummm, because it’s good?! Also it was one of the dishes in the cooking course I completed there.” You said and he chuckled.

“Well that’s good.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled. 

You and Harry bonded a lot over food, it was basically one of your biggest love languages in your relationship. You loved learning together and you taught him a lot of the things he now knew. You wanted to ask if he cooked for his girlfriend…he probably did, it was part of his charm, part of the wooing process. He invited his love interest over to his and made you his perfected risotto al pomodoro and then had the other person involved in helping with dessert and while that went in the oven you’d kill some time by…well, you reckoned anyone would know what you filled that time with. It was basically straight out of a romcom. He even did it for you when you started dating. But you were much younger then so it was all the more impressive that a man pulled out all the stops like that.

You then wondered if she cooked for him as well. Did she do things better than you or was he left wanting just a bit more, forced to remember you every time she took a stab at his favorites? Or did they even do that for each other in this relationship? You wanted to know about it, but at the same time you knew that any knowledge of how his relationship worked with someone else wouldn’t really benefit you in any way. As long as he was happy, that was all you needed to know.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He suddenly asked when you grew quiet.

“Nothing, just ummm, just thinking.” You said as you glanced at him quickly, “We’re nearly there.” You said and he nodded as you turned down to a residential street. The houses there looked to be of an older build, but they were still very beautiful. There was the odd bright white millennial cement block people were obsessed with currently, but other than that, the neighborhood you were in seemed to embrace the older LA architecture for the most part. “S’that one there in the corner.” You pointed to your right and he smiled as he saw your little corner house.

“God it even looks like England…so much green!” He chuckled happily as he glanced at you briefly before looking back as you got closer. 

Yeah, whoever lived there before her absolutely covered the property in plants. The entire front of the property was lined with a hedge that he assumed was his shoulder height or so. And then running diagonally through the front lawn was a little path of steps to get up to the front door, it was lined at each side by some of those little stake lights and blocked off by a little iron gate. You had some free driveway for guests and then another gate to close off the access to the backyard.

“Let me open up the gate,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, “My control is out of batteries and then I bought the wrong-”

“I got it. I want to snoop your lawn.” He said as he unfastened his own seatbelt and you smiled.

“Yeah sure. The gate code’s-”

“Your birthday?” He asked with a knowing smile and you chuckled, “Still your birthday?!” He asked teasingly and you shrugged. “Oh, I’ve missed you…” he hummed quietly, smiling to himself now as he hopped out of the car and walked over to the little keypad at the far end of the gate. “Six digit and pound I assume?” He called out in question.

“Yes!” You shouted and he gave you a thumbs up before entering the numbers. Just a second later the wooden gate started to open inward, allowing you to drive in and he allowed himself to then wander down to the sidewalk where he unlatched the gate to get up to the front door.

It was so pretty out there. There was a a flower garden against the gate on the right side  and thanks to the LA weather they were still in bloom. He could even smell some of the lavender planted there. He followed the path up to the well lit front door and smiled as he saw the beautiful deep teal colored door. There was a big window to some room in the home, possibly the living room, though he couldn’t really make out what it was to because of the thin curtain over it so he just focused back on the door. He just couldn’t get over the color. Then at the foot of the door he spotted a welcome mat reading “Sup. I’m mat.” And Harry immediately burst into laughter and glanced around again to see some wind chimes dangling off of the corner of the drop off of the roof. The grass was well kept and there seemed to be plenty of space to sit out here if you wanted to in the evenings when it cooled down…

“What’s so funny?” You suddenly asked and he turned around to see you coming up the steps.

“Mat.” He said pointing to the welcome mat and you giggled.

“Oh right…$10 if you guess who got me that as a housewarming gift…” you said and he chuckled.

“Oh Caitlyn…I’ve missed her too.” He said and you sniggered. “I really like the color of your door.” He complimented.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“And the yard is so nice and lush. Love the hedges.”

“Yeah? I’m thinking of getting rid of the hedges.” You shared.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Like I like them for privacy but it just seems so closed off to me.”

“I can see that…What does Sebastian think?”

“Who cares? He doesn’t live here.” You sniggered and he chuckled and nodded.

“Well personally, I’d keep ‘em. You’re so close to Sunset that when people find out this is your home there are bound to be TMZ tour busses rolling to a stop every hour and a half.” He said and you sighed as you realized her was right, “Besides, it just kinda feels like your own little world with them, you know? Almost like secret garden type vibes.” He said as he looked around the area again and you smiled.

“Well thank you for your input, I will consider it.” You assured and he smiled, “Alright, lets get inside.” You said and keyed your way in. You had one of those keypad doors as well because losing keys was your hidden talent.

“Oh wow, this is so nice!” Harry complimented as he looked around inside.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you slipped out of her shoes and he did the same. “Want a tour?”

“Yeah!” He agreed eagerly. 

With that confirmation you first guided him down the hallway towards the master bedroom and let him wander around in there for a bit. It had a door to the backyard as well so he looked out there and let her talk about her plans for her little studio before you wandered into the bathroom and closet. He was obsessed with her shower and even snapped some pictures to see if he could do something like that at his place. Then you went to the guest bedrooms to look around in there, and then you stopped in the living room on their way to the kitchen.

“Hey! That’s mine! I think…” He smiled brightly and pointed at a painting of an array of colorful, small and silly, misshapen faces. He walked up to the wall in the living room with tons of art hung on it and studied that one.

“Oh yeah, it is one of yours.” You smiled, “I found it when I was cleaning out my storage unit!”

“God, I was so fucking high when I painted that…” he recalled and chuckled as he shook his head.

“Were you?” You chuckled and he nodded, glancing back at you for a moment before he looked back to the painting.

“Can’t believe I even gave it to you. It was a secret Santa gift, wasn’t it?” He asked as he turned back towards you, fully this time and you nodded with a smile in response to his question. “It’s pretty cool. M’glad you kept it.” He said more softly.

“Of course I did. I love it. It really catches the eye. S’the one people ask about the most actually. Especially when they see the signature.” You said and he chuckled.

“You’ve got a lot of cool pieces.” He added.

“Thank you.”

“Can’t believe we never even went to a museum together.” he said as he turned back to the wall. “Such a shame…”

“Hey, maybe one day.” You said and he smiled as he turned back to you, “Alright, lets get you fed.” You said.

“Yes, please!” He concurred and followed you through to the kitchen. 

You fixed him a plate and told him to feel free to keep looking around the house while it warmed up. You checked your phone again and Seb had not even sent a text in response yet. You were getting worried now, maybe he was serious when he said he was done. You still didn’t think you’d done anything horribly wrong, he had been quite demanding and unreasonable in your opinion. 

When Harry came back into the kitchen to find you staring at your phone he frowned.

“Hey, everything alright?” His presence startled you a bit, but you nodded quickly.

“Yeah.” You assured and he looked at you skeptically, “I swear. I was just checking to see if Seb got back to me yet.”

“He hasn’t?” He asked and you shook your head as you set your phone down and turned to the microwave to grab his plate. When you turned back he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Har.”

“But it is…if I hadn’t insisted t-to have some time with you then maybe-”

“I wanted to have time with you too.” You reminded and slid the plate over to him across the counter and he settled into one of the stools along the island. You then turned around to grab him a fork. Once he had it in his hand he quickly started eating.

“This is delicious.” He moaned with a partially full mouth, “Missed how you cook.” He tagged on happily and you smiled.

“Glad you like it.” You hummed and then started to pack the leftovers back up again. “Do you want some wine or water? I also have Cutwaters, which are quite traumatizing but-”

“Are you gonna have that?” He asked.

“I will if you will.” You said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, alright. What flavor?”

“S’the Long Island ones.” You said with a slight grimace and he mirrored your expression.

“Do you have a death wish?” He asked and you sniggered.

“There were gifted to me with a PR package, OK? Didn’t just want to throw ‘em out.”

“God…just one though, those are alarmingly strong.” He reminded.

“Oh, I know…I hardly even drink anymore apart from the occasional glass of wine. I might only have a cocktail, two max, at events but it’s pretty rare now. So one will definitely do it for me.” You chuckled and he did as well as you turned back to the fridge to open up the box. You came around to the stools and set the cans down and then sat in the spot beside him. “So what did you girlfriend say?” You asked against your better judgment but you had to know.

“About?” He asked, glancing to you before taking another bite of food.

“Us. Hanging out tonight.” You clarified and he hummed.

“Oh! I ummm, I just decided not to mention it to her.” He confessed a bit shamefully, “I was going to but I’m not sure of what her reaction would be and that scared me a bit. And either way, I would’ve come seen you regardless of her opinion about it, so if she’d gotten angry well, I didn’t want to lie and pretend I wasn’t gonna see you on top of making her angry…” he rationalized his decision and then went back for another bite of food.

“A lie of omission is still a lie…” you hummed and he shrugged.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” He mumbled and you sighed and nodded. “I-is that bad?” He asked.

“What?” You asked.

“That I don’t care what she’d think of us reconnecting.” He said and you sighed.

“I think, in a black and white world the answer is yes, but it’s not. And more than that, I mean, it’s us. It feels wrong to be strangers.” You said and he nodded. “But I mean, in a way it’s good that she’s new in your life because she doesn’t really know how we were together, you know? So she has nothing to worry about. Not that there is anything to worry about at the moment, but if she’s on the insecure side then it could cause her some concern.”

“Like Seb.” He said. Not meaning to, but instinctually having to point it out.

“Yeah, I guess so…” you sighed.

“Maybe he does have something to worry about?” Harry said and you turned to him with a furrow in your brows and then his arched up, “Not with me! Sorry that came out wrong, forget I said anything. Sorry.” He rushed out and took another bite of food.

“If not about you then what?” You asked him as he chewed and he shook his head.

“Just forget it. I misspoke.” He mumbled after swallowing it down.

“H, don’t- don’t do that to me.” You said lowly as you looked into his eyes and he sighed.

“I just…just don’t take what I say to heart, OK? I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” He prefaced and you nodded, “S’just something a friend told me about their overly jealous and insecure partner that came to mind. She said that often times those people are so worried about what their partners are doing as a form of…projection.” He said and your eyes softened and you looked down at the counter as the implication of what he was saying weighed on you. “Those kinds of people are often paranoid about their own hidden secrets or agendas being uncovered that they try and-” he stopped when he saw you pick up your can and chug it down for a few seconds before setting it down.

Your chest was rising and falling hard as you caught your breath. You weren’t sure if your throat was stinging from the overload of carbonation you’d just gulped down or from fighting off the knot seeking to lodge itself in it. You hadn’t considered that before. Maybe you were naive, but you always trusted that your partners had your best interest at heart. Though you had been cheated on twice by the same person in the past, this was right before you met Harry. And well, things with Harry had been so great that you were largely able to overcome your trust issues over the course of your relationship with him. You healed from it, but now it seemed like it was maybe a thing again.

“Hey,” Harry spoke softly and grabbed your hand and you turned to him, “I know Seb, he wouldn’t do that to you.” He said with certainty, “He was in love with you for five years, maybe more, and never did a thing about it but wait his turn.” He said and you blinked a few times and nodded, “I’m telling you, it just came to mind but I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t- it’s not the same situation.” He emphasized.

“Maybe we’re wrong for this. Maybe we just need t-to let it go. The past is the past, there’s no need to stir up trouble in our present lives over something that clearly wasn’t…wasn’t meant to be.” You said quietly instead and he frowned.

“You can’t believe we weren’t meant to be, Y/N. Of course we were.” He insisted with conviction.

“Then why did we give up?”

“Bad timing.” He said simply.

“Well aren’t you happy right now? As things are.”

“Sure.” He said, “A-are you?”

“I am…I mean, I know I could be happier, but I’m getting there. And it’s not because of you or anything like that, it’s just that Seb and I are still a bit new. And we have a lot more work to do on how our relationship works, clearly.” You said with a smile and he smiled as well and reached for his own drink.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and you nodded.

“Desperately.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah, we can talk about it then.” He assured.

“OK, you finish up here. I’m going to get my makeup off and out of these clothes.”

“Yeah love, take your time.” He assured and you smiled and hurried off. 

Harry finished eating in silence, debating on whether he should tell Tay about coming over to your place or not. Maybe you had a point, she wouldn’t freak out about it like Seb did because she hadn’t seen you guys at your peak. She didn’t know how it had been between you two to be worried about anything happening. And as that thought crossed his mind it then dawned on him that maybe he was also right, about the projecting thing. Maybe he was projecting this feeling of disapproval and rejection from her because he knew he was in the wrong for this. He knew that being here with the person he wholeheartedly believed was his soulmate was such a test…

His own lyrics then came to mind, “my hand’s at risk, I fold”. He’d written that about you all those years ago. He felt then that you’d both put so much into your love, you’d both bet on it with everything you had only for you guys to realize that it wasn’t panning out how you hoped. So you both just pulled out of it before you could get anymore hurt or suffer any more losses. Had folding been a mistake? That was a question that was constantly orbiting in his mind. Had you guys held on a bit longer, would things have suddenly turned around like you’d been betting they would the whole time? Had you guys been too hasty with giving up? That’s what it felt like to him, giving up. He hated giving up. He had felt defeated for so long

and maybe he was here because he was supposed to be. Running into you like he did, talk about the luck of the draw…what were the odds? He dwelled on that thought as he washed his dishes and dried them up. And then he picked up your can of Cutwater to weigh out how much catching up he needed to do and then did just that. He groaned in disgust at the sweet and bitter after taste and then grabbed your can again and made his way to your living room. He set them down on coasters you had at your coffee table and then went to the window to pull the thicker curtains over your window. 

“Hey, can I use the fireplace?” He shouted out and after a few seconds he heard you shout back a yes. So he quickly got a fire going, it was just a comfort thing he supposed. He loved the sound of the crackling firewood and the smell of it burning slowly over the open flame. He got it going and then moments later you came in, your feet in your slippers and your body warmed up in some yoga pants and a crewneck.

“Sorry I took so long.” You apologized.

“S’alright, took the time to clean up after myself and catch up with you.” He said glancing towards your drinks and you smiled and reached for yours, so he grabbed his as well. You tucked one of your legs under you as the other dangled off of the couch. Harry just waited for you to start.

“That’s one of the things I’m struggling with, about Seb.” You started.

“What?” He asked.

“He’s just…a little…helpless. Or lazy, I don’t know which one.”

“Hmmm…”

“Yeah, he didn’t grow up like we did. With everyone pulling their weight, everyone thinking of how what one person does can affect the other. How, you can’t always have it your way, you know?” You explained and Harry nodded. “He’s the youngest of three, has two older sisters, so he never had to lift a finger growing up. His dad’s a pilot and his mom just stayed at home and looked after them. They supported his dreams of being a singer from the get go, like our parents but, they paid for him to come to LA and live here. They had the means so he didn’t struggle at all, his only challenge was just to get a scout’s attention. So fundamentally, we have very different values I think. Especially of what it means to work hard at something. So right now that he’s upset at me, it’s not so much to do with you as it has to do with the fact that he’s not…getting his way.” You explained.

“So he’s a brat?” Harry said with an amused smile.

“Basically…a bit.” You said with a small smile, “And I do love him, but I don’t think it’s…enough to…to make me truly move on like you have.” You explained. He reached for your hand and you squeezed it for a second before letting go.

“Don’t think I’ll ever truly move on from you…” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about when we ended things. Like what if we had waited just a little bit more and things had worked out?”

“Would you have…wanted that?”

“Of course.” He said with certainty. “Yeah, I’m happy now, but I’ll always wonder if it’s just another path back to you…I don’t know if that’s…romantic or just plain obsessive.” He chuckled a bit and you smiled.

“Maybe a little bit of both.” You said and he smiled, “I’ve been thinking about how fucking insane it is that we ran into each other at Westlake.” You said and he gasped.

“Me too! Been thinking that since we saw each other.”

“I never go to Westlake if I can help it…like ever. So the odds of me even being there are…astronomical.” You said.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah! Honestly, I’ve delayed recording by a day or two if it’s the only one with open slots.” You giggled with a shake of you head. Maybe it was crazy of you, but you felt like the place was cursed. 

“That drastic!? Why?” He asked, his face scrunched up in a confused smile and your smile faded slowly.

“Ummm…that’s where I was, when you…called.” You said and his eyes softened.

“Oh.” Is all he could say.

“Yep, suite 2.” You said with a small, sad smile, “I feel like the place is cursed.” You told him what you’d always thought.

“And isn’t two the number you dislike the most out of all the even numbers?” He asked and you chuckled.

“Yeah, actually!” You confirmed.

“Don’t you think it’s too big of a coincidence that our paths crossed for the first time in years in the same place we ended our relationship?” He asked.

“Of course, I do.” You sighed and shook your head.

“Do you think it’s…a sign?” He asked and your gaze softened as you looked away.

“D-don’t do that, H.” You said with a frown and he scooted closer.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you glanced up at him, he was just inches from your face. “It’s been you the whole time, you have to know that.” He said softly.

“I feel the same but…but we can’t…” your voice cracked as your eyes welled up.

“Why not?” He asked you, grabbing your face now, “Why can’t we just be together how we’re supposed to?”

“Because at some point we weren’t supposed to. We can’t hurt the people in our lives like that. They don’t deserve that.” You sniffled and he swallowed thickly.

“You’re right. You’re so right.” He sighed. A moment of weakness for him…what was he thinking.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Harry.” You said and he nodded.

“I know…I just…I can’t believe I said that…so ridiculous.” He sighed, feeling so ashamed for even suggesting it and now you reached for him.

“It’s not, Harry. It’s not like I wasn’t thinking it too.” You said and he squeezed your hand a bit tighter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. How could I not…” you said and he bit his lip.

“Look, maybe not now but what about a few years from now?” He said and your mouth dropped open a bit.

“What?”

“A few years from now, if we find ourselves alone again we try again.” He said and your lips turned up.

“That’s…that’s wild…”

“This whole thing has been wild! I mean, all of this was just a twist of fate. I can’t let this go to waste without trying. You’re my soul mate, I just know it.” He said and you exhaled shakily, “Tempt fate with me, love. Just one more time.” He appealed and you chuckled.

“OK.” You agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked happily, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“Yeah.” You whispered. 

Neither of you were really thinking too much about it when his hand came up to your jaw and tilted it upwards and your lips met quickly. When you both realized that you’d kissed you pulled away immediately. Your eyes met as a deafening silence came over the both of you. He hadn’t let you go yet and his eyes drifted down to your lips again, how he had missed the taste of them. The feeling of them against his own. He leaned back in and when your hand hooked around his neck he just smooshed his lips against yours with urgency.

You both sighed in relief at the feeling of kissing like this again. You felt like a wildfire right now, fierce and untamable. When his hands landed on your hips and pulled, you quickly got the hint and climbed into his lap. His strong arms hugged around your waist, making you feel safe and cared for in his arms, like old times. You smiled in satisfaction before his tongue licked at your bottom lip and you opened up easily for him. And when you felt your tongues meeting you moaned and slid your hands up to grab his hair to pull at it like you always would. But you were instead met with the smooth and lightly ticklish surface of his buzzcut and you started to giggle.

“Forgot about that.” You grinned, before pecking his lips lightly and he laughed with you. You pulled back just a bit, your noses skimming as your gazes met. You kissed him quickly again and pulled back before he could deepen the kiss again, leaving him wanting. 

“Baby…” he whined lowly. Leaning in and you turned your head a bit, his kiss landing at the corner of your mouth.

“We should stop before we do something worse.” you whispered and he sighed but nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry.” He whispered and you just smiled and hugged him and he hugged you back. It was just a few moments into your embrace when you guys heard a car lock beeping from outside.

“That’s Seb’s car.” You said, immediately recognizing the sound.

“Shit.” Harry whispered as he let you go and you clambered off of his lap quickly and assumed your previous seat. “Sorry for that. I promise I held off as long as I could.” He apologized and you shook your head.

“It’s alright, I wanted to. Was thinking about it the whole time as well so…” You reassured him as your eyes met and he just smiled at you. Seconds later the lock on the front door chimed, indicating it had been unlocked and then Sebastian appeared, standing at the entrance of the living room to see you and Harry sitting on the couch, a comfortable distance between the two of you.

“Hey.” He greeted you both.

“Hey.”, “Hi, Seb.” You and Harry greeted him.

“Sorry for just leaving like that. I wanted to call you back after hearing your message, but I wanted t’cool off a bit. Went to the bar and I didn’t realize I dropped my phone there. Luckily, someone found it and turned it in. Then I went to Jake’s to track it since he lives close to it and when I went back to get it the screen was all wrecked.” He said holding it up.

“Oh shit! M’sorry.”, “That sucks, mate.” You and Harry said and he chuckled.

“Just bad luck I guess.” He sighed, “So ummm, you guys just catching up?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, Harry’s telling me about performing at Slane Castle.” You said and he nodded.

“Do you mind if I join you guys?” He asked.

“Not at all, mate.” Harry smiled.

“Cool. I’ll get a drink too then.” Seb said with a small smile and you nodded as he headed off to the kitchen.

“Thanks for putting me on the spot.” Harry whispered with a disbelieving grin and you giggled.

“As fate would have it, you had an iconic tour this year, so you can tell the stories…” you smiled.

> Next Part >

Check out some of my other stories here:)

----TAG LIST ----

@sunshinemoonsposts@anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado@sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @reveriehs @ottawaoutlander @jessitpwk @permanentllyharry @here4thefanfics @slutfortigertattoo @angelbabyyy99 @freedomfireflies @behindmygreyeyes@justlemmeadoreyou

#harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry x you #boyfriends harry styles #boyfriend harry styles #boyfriend!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #HS one shot #harry styles reader insert fanfic #cheater harry #harry styles reader insert #caught!Harry styles #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry edward styles #bald harry #0nlythrowharrybeaux

[eveningepiphany]

go with it | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.

warnings: cheating ex, surprise kiss, sexual tension, partial mentions of sexual stuff, love/hate relationship, protective! h, fluff, cuddling and lots of kissing

a/n: I’m sorry but this gif actually has me in a chokehold. his jawline, his chewing, his FROWN. literally melting 🫠

———

There was never a day you thought you’d be b-lining to Harry of all people.

Especially not with the intention of once getting there, that you would be slamming your lips against his.

However, you already know you’d rather face a pit of blood-thirsty snakes then be forced into a conversation with your asshole of an ex boyfriend.

Who you know is currently seeking you out, because when you’d caught glimpse of him scouring the groups of people inside the kitchen, after coming back from the bathroom— your stomach dropped, and someone tapped your shoulder.

“He’s your ex, right?” The girl had said this with a light scrunch of her nose as she looked over to him. Her face riddled with a sense of disgust you couldn’t relate to more If you tried.

You had nodded, to which she replied, “Well, he’s asking everyone if you’re here and where you are. Going by his personality I’m assuming you’re gonna want to avoid that.”

You’d never wanted to hug someone more then her in that moment.

At the information she’d so kindly shared with you, your first priority was getting out of the house.

The front door wasn’t an option since he is near the only hallway that leads it it. So out through the back patio, where a smaller group of people were mingling by the fire, was easily your best option.

You knew this was where he’d be likely looking next, so you ran out the door. Unsure if you are about to just find a way to jump the fence and make your escape or…

Either way, you knew if he managed to talk to you, you’d be getting an unwanted earful of advances.

He’d beg with his nasally voice for you to give him a chance, and then go on about the same bitter ending you’d both faced. To his own fault, of course.

He was talking to multiple other girls over the damn state while you were together. And once you found out, it confirmed your outlook on his person.

He of course was charming and nice at first. But it was almost in a sleazy way when you think back to it. He’d yelled at you when you bought up his adulterous habits, and you never looked back after that.

Once you were outside, you were considering your options, but you spotted a person on the other side of the decking.

The second your eyes locked on Harry, it was a done deal.

If you were to seem like you were in another relationship, he would be much more likely to back off. Much more likely to never contact or try to find you again.

He was petrified of other men. Always felt so inferior around them. So this would be perfect, if you could just make it work.

All your past with him fell from the forefront of your mind as you practically ran in his direction. Maybe you had argued countless times over college projects and he could be a bit of an ass, but you still knew you could trust him.

He was leaned against the wooden beam of the patio, skin casted with a warm glow from the fire a few feet away, down on the grass.

He had a signature frown. One that creased between his brows and pouted his pink lips. Creating his almost intimidating persona. Protective in a perfect way.

“Harry.” You state frantically, moving at a pace you’re not used to, shoes hitting the wooden decking hastily.

His scowl deepened as he heard his name, being pulled from his intense train of thought.

“What—” He looks honestly pissed off, but when his gaze snaps to you, it softens a tiny bit. Still annoyed, but just a sliver less.

Also confused at your frantic and rapidly approaching frame, which is now suddenly breaching the usual metre-wide distance you both would maintain on any other day.

“Y/N? What are you—“

You plant your hands on the side of his face, and the look of surprise in his eyes is evident.

His cheeks are warm and smooth under your palms, “I need you to just go with this okay? Can you do that for me?”

He is struggling to make sense of the situation, let alone get a sentence out without being interrupted.

“What do you—“

“I— I’ll explain later just—“ you take a final glance over your shoulder, and see your ex inside still, but seemingly headed for the sliding door to come outside.

This drives the final surge of adrenaline you need to tug his face to yours, melding your lips together. His are puckered in tense shock, and a noise of surprise sounds from the back of his throat.

His hands jump to your hips, gripping them like he’s not sure whether to pull you closer, or push you away.

Your mouth moves against his, and he reciprocates with a sense of hesitation.

His own brain is in absolute overdrive. The interaction far to short to go from being people who merely tolerate one another to people who are currently kissing.

And somewhere inside of him he acknowledges the feeling of how warm your lips are pressed to his.

He senses your urgency now though, hands tensing around his jaw at the sound of the access door getting slid open.

Parting his lips, he impulsively drags his tongue over your bottom lip. You sigh a sound of almost gratefulness at his action.

Harry turns his body swiftly, pressing your back into the railing, his lips moving harder against yours.

“Y/N! Are you bloody out here?” A grating voice sounds, and he quickly picks up the pieces of the story he was missing.

The voice also pulls him out of the half trance he’d gotten himself in. Your mouth so warm, he genuinely forgot his own name for a second.

One of your hands slide down to the neck of his black shirt, securing it in an anxious grip.

The pace quickly picks up, him plastering himself to you as close as physically possible. Clashing mouths as he shadows your body with his.

“Oi, mate!” He ignores the yell, and is met with the footsteps of this guy coming closer.

“Have you seen—“

Harry pulls from your mouth, turning his head to look at the dickhead who you’re clearly attempting to get away from. And who just hypothetically interrupted someone’s makeout session— which is just fucking rude anyway.

“Do I look like I have?” Harry scowls, an angry tone over his voice.

The guy frowns, an ugly look casting upon his features, he steps closer, “No need to be a fucking di—“

He moved just close enough to see you, frowning, making sense that you were just essentially making out with someone, “Y/N I—“

“Can you fuck off? We’re in the middle of something here, that you’ve just so kindly interrupted. Read the room you twat.” His sentences come out harsh, and it’s clear he means it.

Your ex tries his luck a final time, “look I just want to talk with—“

And Harry interjects it again, “She’s not interested.”

You stay quiet, and at this he gets a disgusted look. It appalls you that he thinks you owe him anything.

There’s a stare down between the two men. But you can see in his face he’s intimidated. Also humiliated, that you’ve seemingly moved on with someone else, and that he’s clearly got no shot at winning you back.

“Fucking ass.” He hisses, and turns around, storming down the patio and back inside.

Harry turns back to you, shielding your frame with his. A sigh of relief passes through you.

You look a little shaken up, and he loosens the grip he has on you slightly. Both your lips still puffed and shining from the exchange you unexpectedly shared.

“Thank you…” you pant out, not sure if you’re out of breath from the situation or because of Harry.

The reality of what just happened comes pelting down on you both.

And it’s quiet a moment as you both clock over in your brains that you just practically made out. It takes a second for him to break the silence,

“So, stalker? Ex? Random guy who can’t take no for an answer?” He quizzes.

Feeling embarrassed, you purse your lips— but are able to to taste the remnants of his own mouth on yours. “Ex.”

“Ex?”

You nod.

“You sound surprised. Didn’t you think I could land anyone?” You scoff, trying desperately to bring back the usual snarky vibe between the two of you.

“No, not at all. Just that he was clearly batting above his level. He was a proper dickhead, and that’s rich when it’s compared to you.” You thank god he plays back into your banter.

But he pries further, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Long story.” You attempt to brush it off, but he has none of it.

“Love, y’just came over here and slammed your bloody mouth over mine, and now you’re not going to tell me why?”

“But—“

“No,” he interrupts, still very close to you as he shakes his head, “No buts. Y’said you’d explain after.”

A sigh rattles out of you, feeling a little pathetic you’re telling Harry you got cheated on.

“He cheated on me. Like with multiple girls.”

To this, his face immediately drops.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

He fights the overwhelming urge to go hunt him down and lay a hand into the side of his fucking face. An absolute scumbag.

“What a pathetic excuse for a man.” He scoffs, “Lucky to have even got a pretty girl like you, and he blew it.”

You flush, another brief wave of quiet falling over the two of you. His compliments throwing you.

You quietly speak again, “I’m sorry about the… kiss. Didn’t really get as much consent as I’d have liked.”

You did feel guilty, you don’t usually go forcing your mouth onto unsuspecting men.

“No, it’s okay. You did it for a reason.” He shakes his head at your apology, and in all honesty, he enjoyed it.

Somehow it meant more than many of his others have. And he can’t quite pinpoint why.

“I… I carpooled here so, I think I’m gonna call an Uber and go home ‘cause…”

You had no interest in sticking around, incase your ex comes back— and you don’t want to spend the rest of your night glued to Harry’s side, because you doubt he’d want that.

“You’re not catching an Uber home.” He scoffs aloud, fishing his keys from his back pocket, “I’ve only had one drink, I’ll be fine to drive, so I’ll take you.”

“Harry, no. You’ve already done plenty for me tonight, I’ll be fine—“

He grabs at your hand, lacing them together and beginning to walk you down the patio.

“I’m driving you home.” He states, leading the you inside.

He clutched your hand tight, eyes forward and uncaring of the heads that had turned your way.

You on the other hand had burned up at the curious— and quickly jealous— eyes.

Harry was by no means a whore. There were plenty of rumours of him sleeping with certain girls. Mostly outlandish stories that eventually fizzled out to nothing.

He’d had a few girlfriends here and there, but it’d been a while since. And he’s maybe had one actual fling over the last couple months.

It just seemed he was harder to get. And many women tried their luck around the school. Yet to no avail.

You cast your sight down, walking behind him out the front door. Relishing in the quiet surroundings of the front lawn, free of prying glares.

He unlocked his car that was parked on the side of the road, and he opens the side door for you to get in. Chivalry mustn’t be dead.

Once you’re both in the car, you fight the urge to say again that he really doesn’t have to take you, because it’s clear there is no other option on his end.

So instead, you let out a tiny thank you, and he nods while starting the car.

However, your self restraint only branches so far— matter-of-fact, you weren’t even out of the street— before you blurt out, “Everyone was staring.”

He veers his gaze momentarily to you, then flicking it back to the road. Silence stretches a moment, and he recalls the heat of your lips pressed to yours with no real prompt.

And when he thinks of it, the image doesn’t leave his head. It unwillingly transpires, into something that bubbles into the pit of his stomach.

He had to blink it away, grounding himself when he hears your nervous swallow.

“I— what?” He’s confused at what you mean, while you kissed? When you walked out?

“When we walked out.” You reply, and he makes sense of what you’re talking about.

“People will always stare. They’re nosey.”

“I know.”

There’s another breath of silence, until he laughs, so suddenly that it almost makes you jump.

“Where am I going?” He asks, still chuckling as he realises he’s literally just driving aimlessly.

“Oh.” You sputter out a laugh as well, rattling off the side of town he needs to start driving to.

You wish you had more to say to him. That’s conversation usually flowed easily— filled with the sarcastic retorts it usually is. But now all that sat between you was a thick, hot slab of tension.

It wasn’t bad— not by any means— but it was easy to tell both of you were stuck in your own head. And you fear you’ve fashioned a permanent problem between the two of you.

Your voice only cut through the quiet once you were a few blocks away from your house.

He hummed acknowledgements to your each set of directions, and before you knew it, you were pointing out your house to him.

As his car pulled to a stop in the driveway, he didn’t hesitate to turn off the engine and get out.

Confused, you follow suit anyway, but wondered if he was about to walk you to your door.

And you weren’t wrong. Somehow, the guy who seems hardly like a gentleman, is waiting to walk the maybe 15 steps with you from his car to your front door.

You get your keys from your small bag, looking at him with an undeniably curious gaze as you meet his side.

He follows in sync by your side, hands in pockets. All the way up the patio steps, and he falls to a stop when you do, still next to you.

“Thank you for driving me home…” you smile, and can feel an unwilling red colouring spread over your cheeks.

“Was nothin’. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Were you seriously worried about me?” You frown, yet it’s undeniably endearing his concern for you.

A tiny scoff sounds from him, “Obviously?”

“That fuckin’ twat of an ex you have hardly seems like a good person. And who’s t’say he wouldn’t follow you home from that party and…” he stares off in thought, jaw clenching.

“Harry.” You state, stepping forward, wrapping a single hand around his wrist.

“Thank you.”

His distant gaze was snapped away at your touch. He’s never really considered himself an overly violent person, but your ex was easily about to change that.

And he hardly can pinpoint why. Or not yet.

The only thing he knows he wants to do again in sudden clarity, is kiss you. It almost shocks him, because he hasn’t felt an urge as strong as this in forever.

“Can— I need you to just go with this.” He mutters, being the one now very suddenly invading the gap between you both.

He’s mimicking what you said when you kissed him, yet you don’t realise “I’ll explain later.”

His hand cups the side of your jaw, and he leans to brush his lips against yours, a breath of relief fanning out his nose after finally feeling the contact.

You’re stood on your porch, and Harry is kissing you.

And somehow you’re all the sudden kissing him back.

Not because there’s someone you’re running from. Not because you have to. Because you want to.

He pulls you closer to him, allowing his teeth to graze your lower lip. Causing your hands to card through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You both play a back and forth game. Full of lips against tongue and tongue against teeth.

Until you’re both panting and running out of new places to map out with your hands.

“Care to explain?” You retort gently, stricken of breath.

He hums in the back of his throat, barley a rumble as he trails his mouth along your jaw, and down to the base of your neck.

“Is this enough of an answer?” He asks, sucking the skin between your two collarbones between his teeth.

Your knees almost give out at the sensation, and even the pressure behind his harsh mouth.

A near whimper comes from you, and he licks over the slightly bruised spot before he pulls back.

He cocks an eyebrow, expectant of your answer, despite having such a skilled mouth you’re pretty sure you forgot your own name for a second there.

“I— yes. That was… plenty.” You nod.

“Did it because I wanted to, and y’have an incredibly hot little mouth.” He provides anyway, a laugh coming from him as he pecks your cheek. All gentle, all loving.

You’re lacking for words completely, and can only lean your head against his broad chest. Unsure what exactly you’ve sparked between the two of you this evening, but simultaneously not caring of the future right now.

“I’m also probably not going to be able to stop thinking about it…” he whispers.

“Stay.” You blurt out, and then clarify a few seconds later, “The night.”

He chuckles at this, “Are you trying to get in bed with me now? Moving very quickly, sweetheart.”

You flush, “Not everything is about sex, you fucking addict.”

“So you were inviting me to stay the night so we could cuddle?”

“I was.” You affirm, despite not being opposed to his idea either.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your front door. Unlocking it and making quick work of sneaking him inside without the one of your three lovely housemates hearing.

All the others were luckily out at varying parties, and the only girl still home— Grace— sleeps like a log.

“You seem like a bit of a professional at sneaking people in.” He smirks, kicking his shoes off and leaving them in the corner of your room.

With only the lamp turned on, he’s lit with a warm glow, and he looks beautiful.

“Comes naturally when you live with housemates that are like your best friends. They wanna know everything.” You go to your cupboard, pulling out a jumper to change into.

He watches as you pull it over your head, yet managing to unclip your top and bra off underneath it.

“Impressive.” He nods at your easy change.

“I’m taking my pants off.” You state, “and not in a sexual way, perv.”

He lets out a defensive laugh, “I’m not a perv! You’re the one stripping off.”

You unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs to change over to sweatpants. His gaze strays around your room and you smile at his respectfulness.

Once you’re changed, you sit on the edge of your bed.

You lock eyes, and he gives a sly smile, not waiting to tug his shirt over his head and unbutton his own jeans.

You cover your eyes, sarcastically scoffing, “yea well, I didn’t plan on getting fully naked, but you go right ahead.”

“No different if we went swimming, darling. Still have my underwear on.”

You don’t get to reply as his hands tap your knee, “Budge up.”

You uncover your eyes, being met with his toned chest and calvin klein briefs.

Obliging silently, as he gets under the covers with you. The two of you rearrange until you’re comfortable.

Your head perched on his side as you cuddle into him, arm over his abdomen. His own arm curled underneath you.

“This is… an awfully weird situation we’ve ended up in.” You laugh. Because you’re cuddling in your bed right now, and if you told yourself even yesterday that would be happening, there no way in hell you would have taken it seriously.

“Guess it is.” He shrugs, turned his head to look down at yours.

“Still hate your guts.” You whisper.

“Mm, i don’t think I ever even hated you.” He muses.

You laugh, “Is that so?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “you’re too pretty. And even though you’re annoying, and can’t admit when you get a project question wrong, i think I have a little bit of a soft spot for you.”

“Gross.” You say, but he can hear in your tone— and the way it nearly shakes— that you actually are a little worked up over his minor confession.

“Cmon, you can’t even admit you like me a tiny bit?”

You shake your head, blushing profusely as you try to hide it.

He tugs you further up, so he can look at you properly, “You’re blushing though. Like you always seem to do when I get a bit sappy. Which is my most recent observation of you.”

He doesn’t let you respond as he presses another kiss to your lips again. And you smile into it unwillingly.

He pulls away mid-kiss, letting you whine a little at the abrupt ending to it.

“Admit it, and we can keep kissing.” He says, and it draws an eye-roll from you.

But he somehow knows it will work, because you quickly crack under his ultimatum, “Fine! Yes. I like you— just a little bit.”

To your response he laughs, murmuring against your lips, “I’ll take it, I suppose.”

He presses another kiss against you, and you press back again.

It becomes another makeout session, but despite being the third one of the night, it’s the first time hands can skate against mostly bare skin.

Which his own palms find their way under your jumper, and one cups gently at your breast, flicking over your nipple while his tongue dips into your mouth.

That’s as far as it goes for tonight though.

He kneads the flesh there softly, until you’re panting into his mouth with a heat budding between your legs.

Somehow there’s an unspoken not tonight agreement.

And you know that despite how needy you feel for him, it’s definitely for the best. And you’re still shocked you made it this far with him.

You roll into him further, chest rising and falling quickly as you sigh out to him, “I lied.”

“When?” He sounds completely unconcerned, despite your risky sentence starter.

“Before, when I said I only liked you a little bit.”

He chuckles at your response, “How was that a lie, hm?”

“I like you more than a little bit.”

“You’re sweet, darling.” He strokes his thumb against your ribcage, “so do I.”

To this you smiled. Eyes growing heavy at his rhythmic touches and soothing voice.

And his gentle words are the last that you hear before you fall asleep against his chest.

Both filled with a warmth you haven’t felt in a long time.

———

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #protective harry #love hate relationship #fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #love him so bad #phh #prince hair harry

[harrysonlylover]

Psycho For You*

Summary: In which jealousy runs deep in his blood.

Warnings: MEAN Harry, blood, mentions of violence, filthy rough smut, shower sex, choking, degradation, size kink.

WC: 1.4k

Main Masterlist

Y/n had good intentions in mind. Not pure or angelic, but the right amount of playfulness. She didn’t anticipate this to happen or meant to do any harm.

She should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known better than to rile him up, and fuel his jealousy. All she wanted to do was mess with him, and it took a different route.

The blood was dripping on the tiles, but he didn’t wash it off because at the moment he had a lesson to teach.

“You think you’re so clever, huh?” A sadistic smile was painted on his face as he nipped on her skin.

The blood belonged to the man she ‘flirted’ with, he didn’t kill him despite the burning urge he felt. Instead, others at the party had to pull him away before it escalated.

And the sick truth? She liked it.

“Don’t you know that you belong to me?” He grabbed her throat with a tight grip, staining her skin with blood.

The hot water poured on their naked bodies as he rested his forehead against hers, with his cock nestled deep inside her heat.

“I do.” She shivered from the thrill of it all.

“Tsk tsk, looks like your little brain forgot again.” He thrusted inside her, causing her head to tilt backward against the glass wall.

He refused her help once they arrived home, dismissing the need to clean and stitch his hands. That wasn’t what he needed. He craved having her warm walls engulf his cock as he watched her facial expression change for him.

The steam from the hot water covered the glass walls, and Harry had her body supported with his.

“Silly girl, pushed my buttons on purpose and now look what happened.”

The wet sounds caused by his thrusting could not be overpowered by the dripping water. He adored hearing how his cock penetrated her, and he was extra rough this time.

“Whose slut are you? Hmm?” His grip on her jaw would surely cause visible bruises in the morning.

“Yours.” She replied weakly and incoherently because of her smushed cheeks.

“Oh look, the brainless slut can speak. Looks like I’m too easy on you.” He suddenly stopped mid thrust, raking his eyes all over her gorgeous face. A grin slowly made its way before he pulled out and slid in again with a rough force.

He used his hands to bounce her body on his cock quickly. Her screams were music to his ears.

“Bet you liked how I almost killed him for you. You want that, don’t you?” His wet curls covered his forehead while he bit her shoulder.

Her answer was muffled by her moans and whimpers. He lived to hear her beautiful sobs and cries of pleasure. His cock was made to pleasure her always soaked pussy—or should he say his pussy?

“Not gonna answer, eh? No need darling. I felt the clench of your dirty cunt when I asked.” She tugged at his hair knowing how much he adored the pain.

If not for her mushy brain and feelings of euphoria, she would’ve answered him properly. She wasn’t even ashamed of it because he had corrupted her to the core. Fuck yes, she liked it.

She wanted him to protect her and loved the idea of him going crazy for her. Loved the idea of her man, exploiting his physical strength for her.

Her hands held onto his biceps as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. His thrusts were merciless. He hit her G-spot repeatedly and stopped whenever she clenched a lot which was an indication of an orgasm.

He followed it with a wicked laugh and more aggressive kissing. His mouth nipped all over his body, whether it be biting, sucking, or ‘gentle’ kissing. He made sure to leave his marks everywhere. The bruises that will form on her body were the smallest example.

He would soon cum inside her walls, plant his seed deep inside her womb and give her the feeling she begs him for. And over the next few days, soreness will follow.

“Would you look at that?” He chuckled as he glanced down to where his cock pulled out from her warm pussy again. It was coated with their wetness but more specifically her juices.

“Pathetic slut, getting off the fact that I hurt other people for you.” He pulled her hair, causing a stinging sensation in her scalp. He gently tapped on her cheek signaling for her to open her mouth. He spat inside before guiding her lips to his and clashing his tongue with hers.

“Should’ve just spat on you instead from how filthy you are, and you’d like it anyways.” The steam from the hot water caused fog to arise in the small bathroom. She genuinely could not think straight. Everything was too overwhelming and euphoric. She couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his glorious body where his cock was hanging.

No wonder her pussy felt empty.

She swallowed down her throat at his size, she really wondered how he fit inside her sometimes, but she was immediately reminded of how many tries and lube it took for him to fit in.

After that, he had her stretched properly to his shape and curve because he simply owned her.

“Little bunny, you’re about to drool.” He tsked, raising her chin with his finger. She gave him innocent doe eyes that had him weak in the knees.

“All for a cock?” He laughed, pushing hair strands out of her face.

“Fuck me.” She begged, digging her nails into his tatted skin.

“Should I though? I mean it’s too big for your tight cunt.” He pretended to hesitate, placing his cock from the base near her pussy, allowing it to stand reaching her stomach.

“See? I could probably move your womb if I want to.” He mocked her with every single word he spewed. And of course, she loved it.

She went crazy for how he degraded her and made her feel small. He knew that her exact weakness was their size difference and how he rearranged her insides with how deep he went.

“Please, I need to cum.” She grinded her dripping pussy against his shaft, earning a harsh slap to her her engorged clitoris.

“So fucking needy and whiny for my cock.” He lined up the tip with her entrance and slid in swiftly.

The relief on her face once he entered her was fucking priceless. God, he lived for her pussy and intimacy. She had him hooked.

“Is that how you want me to treat you? Like you’re just a hole?” His hips snapped against hers as her cries filled the small space.

“Well guess what darling? You’re nothing more than that.” He landed a harsh slap to her ass, before bringing his hand to her throat.

“Harder. You own me, Harry.” She managed to speak despite the tight grip.

“I know I fucking do.” He sneered, plowing into her like a madman.

It was on a whole other level of pleasure and craziness. A psychotic lust. He placed all of his godly stamina into claiming her pussy.

Her face scrunched in both pleasure and pain. An expression that he loved.

“Oh good, does that hurt?” He tilted his head to the side, not forgetting to glance at her bouncing breasts.

She nodded weakly at his question, with her nails scratching down his back over previous scars caused by their rough sex.

“As it fucking should. My pretty fuckdoll. What do you say?”

“Tha—Thank you.” She breathed out.

The sound of skin slapping intensified, he was hitting her cervix with every thrust, deeper and deeper. Their fucks were filthier than orgies.

“Now cum on my cock so I could fill this pussy up.” He whispered in her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.

She had been waiting all night for his cue, almost cried even. He teased her continuously for his pleasure and mocked her tightness when he knew how stretched she was.

“Uh—ohh.” Their faces were inches apart and he stared into her eyes right as her orgasm hit her. Her body was lit on fire as she moaned audibly, and clung onto him. He kept fucking her through her high, feeling the wetness drip down his thighs.

He was about to follow her and allow himself a release but instead, he turned the water off.

“Can’t have the water wash my cum away, it should be deep inside of you.” He panted heavily and caressed her flushed cheeks.

The moment he said that she knew she was in for a long night of rounds, orgasms, and humiliation.

And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

——————————————————

Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @straightontilmornin @stilesissaved @daphnesutton @elioslover

If your tag is red, then it didn’t work.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry smut #harry styles story #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles mature #harry styles book #harry styles wattpad #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harry imagine #dark harry fic #harry fics #harry styles request #dom harry styles #harry angst #harry styles filth #harry styles #harry blurb #harry fic

[cupid-styles]

daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)

she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)

part one

word count: 7.9k

content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 

But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.

Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 

Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 

On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.

It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.

It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.

And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.

The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 

“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."

She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 

She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.

“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.

“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”

She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 

“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”

“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”

His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.

“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”

They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 

But she can’t help herself. 

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”

Harry’s nostrils flare. 

“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”

He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 

But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?

“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”

He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 

“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 

A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 

“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 

But instead, he stops. 

A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 

“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”

I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 

“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”

He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.

“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”

. . .

Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 

In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 

She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 

When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 

A smile.

“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 

“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 

That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.

As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 

And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.

“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”

Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 

“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.

When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”

As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.

“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”

Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 

“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”

Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.

. . . 

“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 

Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 

“We are,” he says softly. 

“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 

“What do you mean?”

Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 

“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”

Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.

“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”

She pauses for a beat. And then, ��I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 

And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.

“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”

She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”

“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.

The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 

His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 

“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”

She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 

Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.

And there’s still three months left of the semester.

Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.

But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.

It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:

can’t stop thinking about your lips

oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??

It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.

Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.

Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 

“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”

She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 

“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”

They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 

Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 

“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 

He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”

“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 

He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 

It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 

“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”

“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”

“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”

Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 

“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”

“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 

With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 

Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 

“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”

His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 

“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“You live alone?”

She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.

“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”

“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”

Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”

Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 

“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”

“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”

His throat bobs. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”

He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”

He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 

“Well now I have to know.”

“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”

“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”

Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”

“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”

“Strawberry, actually.”

He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”

Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”

“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”

She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”

“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 

“I’m right over there.” 

Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 

“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 

“Of course.”

They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 

“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”

He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?

But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.

“Can I come inside, then?”

. . .

Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 

She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.

“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 

“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”

Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”

“Tea is good, sweetheart.”

The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.

“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.

He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”

“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”

“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”

She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.

“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 

Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 

“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”

He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”

She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”

He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”

“I know, but—”

“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”

He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 

“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”

“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 

This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 

“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”

He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 

“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”

“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 

But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 

When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.

And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.

“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 

“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 

He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 

“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 

He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 

“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.

“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 

“Harry— oh my god—”

“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”

If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 

“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 

“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”

That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 

“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 

“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”

Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 

“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 

She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 

“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 

“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfectly okay.” 

Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 

“You look big.” She admits. 

He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 

“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 

This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 

“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 

Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”

“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 

“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 

She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 

“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 

“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”

She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 

“Do you really think it’ll fit?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“

“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 

Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 

“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 

“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”

“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 

With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 

“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”

She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 

She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 

He thinks he may pass out. 

Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 

“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 

“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 

“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 

He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 

“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 

That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 

When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.

Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”

“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”

“Please.”

His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 

They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 

And then: “So you envisioned this?”

She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”

Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.

#writing #english profrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one direction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles fic rec #harry styles rec #one direction

[stylesharrys]

the special herb [weedrry] masterlist

welcome to the series masterlist of the special herb! this is a compilation of oneshots following weedrry and y/n every time they've gotten (accidentally) high together.

this series will include mentions and consumption of marijuana in different forms such as; weed brownies (edibles), joints, bongs, thc oils. this also contains smut -- each oneshot will have smut warnings for what is included. if these topics make you feel uncomfortable, please do not read. your mental health comes first!

these can be read separately or in the order listed below.

🍒 indicates smut.

//

oneshots

special brownies: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies. (2.3k)  🍒

special smokes: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party 🍒 [coming april 26th @ 6 pm BST]

special oils: harry accidentally uses tom’s thc oil in their pasta dinner and round three begins. 🍒 [coming may 3rd @ 6 pm BST]

#weedrry #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

[freedomfireflies]

Better Not Pout*

Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.

You.

Word Count: 10.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)

December 24th, 1945.

The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.

The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.

You.

You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.

You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.

And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.

But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.

Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 

Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.

That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.

The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.

“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”

A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.

Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.

And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.

In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.

But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.

Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.

He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.

But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.

He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 

Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.

Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.

And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.

The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.

Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.

Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.

And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.

But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.

Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.

Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.

You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 

He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.

“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.

“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”

Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.

You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.

After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.

It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.

Right beside a photo of you.

Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.

It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.

You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.

Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 

And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.

What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.

He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.

A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.

The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”

You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”

“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”

You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”

“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”

“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”

He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.

You nod.

“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”

And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 

“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.

“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”

The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.

And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.

“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”

The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”

"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?

And where the hell is Johnny?

He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 

The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.

However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.

In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.

“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”

“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”

The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 

Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”

With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.

You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.

He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.

Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.

He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”

Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.

As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.

Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.

“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.

“You think so?”

You nod weakly.

He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”

You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 

But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.

“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”

The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”

A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”

The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”

And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”

Your reaction loosens his smile.

“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”

You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.

Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 

“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”

He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:

You spit.

The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.

His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.

“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.

“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 

His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.

Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 

“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”

The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”

You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”

Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”

And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.

“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”

“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”

“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”

You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 

“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”

It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.

“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.

“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”

You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 

However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.

Johnny.

It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.

Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.

“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”

But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.

For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 

“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”

He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 

A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?

Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.

The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”

Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”

Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.

Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.

“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”

Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”

“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”

Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.

Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”

Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”

“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.

But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.

Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.

Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”

Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.

You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”

Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”

The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”

Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.

“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”

Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”

With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.

However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”

There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”

Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”

 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.

Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.

The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.

Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.

And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”

“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 

Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”

Things move quickly from there.

Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 

“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.

“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”

“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”

Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.

And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.

You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.

“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”

With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”

He smiles.

It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”

Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”

“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”

“None of your goddamn business—”

The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 

One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.

“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”

The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”

Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”

Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”

However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 

And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.

“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”

And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.

The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 

But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.

You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.

And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.

He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.

And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.

Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.

He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 

All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 

Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.

“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 

You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”

“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.

Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”

But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”

He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 

Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”

“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”

“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”

Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.

“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”

Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.

He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.

“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”

You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.

“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”

“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.

Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.

“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”

“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.

“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”

“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”

Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”

And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.

No matter the cost.

Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”

You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.

“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.

He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.

The picture of you.

It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.

Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.

There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.

It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 

Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.

It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.

This is what he came for.

“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”

With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”

You both smile.

Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.

Three.

Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.

Two.

His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.

But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.

One.

The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.

Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.

You’d bought him that shirt.

And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.

It’s over.

Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”

If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.

But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.

No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.

And that’s where you came in.

Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.

And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 

The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.

You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.

You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”

“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”

You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”

“Is that right, doll?”

“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”

His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”

“What…did you do?”

The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.

He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.

He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.

Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.

Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”

Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”

“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.

And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”

You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.

He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”

And you can’t help but smile.

You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.

You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.

But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 

And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.

You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.

The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.

But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You have him.

You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.

This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.

Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.

He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 

You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.

He grunts. “What?”

But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.

And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.

Perhaps it does.

He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.

“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”

He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.

It makes your insides twist.

You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.

“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”

His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 

“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”

You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.

But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”

And you don’t doubt that you will.

You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.

You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 

Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.

And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.

He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.

So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.

“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”

“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”

He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”

You only nod.”

“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”

He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.

“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”

You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.

“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”

You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.

“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"

“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”

Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.

In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”

“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.

“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 

“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”

You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 

You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 

Not because Johnny loves you in red.

But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.

The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.

Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.

In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.

You’ve missed this.

Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.

His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.

And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”

Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.

Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.

Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.

And it makes you grin.

You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.

But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.

He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.

But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 

After all, he got to have his fun this evening.

Now it’s your turn.

You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.

“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.

This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.

You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.

Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…

Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.

And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.

After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.

He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”

The twitch of his cock is answer enough.

You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.

His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.

Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.

Then…you kiss him.

And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.

You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.

And pressed tightly to your clit.

The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.

You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”

Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.

His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.

“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”

You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”

“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”

You wish he had.

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”

And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.

“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”

You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.

And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.

The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.

So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.

Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.

At least in moments like this.

He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 

You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.

He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.

And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.

But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.

And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.

He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 

Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.

It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.

He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.

You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.

Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.

You got Harry back.

After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.

“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.

He hums. “Yes, mama?”

“I love you.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.

Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.

Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.

You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.

“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”

Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.

The necklace.

He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.

He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 

And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.

“You like it?” he whispers.

You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.

Everything. All of it.

Him.

Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.

Once, twice, three times. 

Midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 

His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”

And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.

Snow.

With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.

A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles story #harry styles oneshot #harry styles mafia #mafiarry #mafia!harry #smut #1940s #chicago #harry and doll #better not pout #christmas #christmas oneshot

[thestoryofusstan]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

#harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry #harry styles #boss!harry styles x reader #boss!harry styles #ceorry #ceo!harry styles #ceo!harry styles x reader