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#harry styles oneshot
venusstyless · a day ago
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Bad Timing (HS)
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Pairing: Boyfriend!Harry/Y/N 
Warning NSFW18+ unprotected sex, dirty talk, uses of the word bitch, blood, cuteness, fluff, domrry to boyfriendrry 
Word Count; 1.4k 
Synopsis: Y/N’s monthly decides to come at a bad time
authors note; hi sunnies so this is my shortest work so far, it was just something that came to me one day so I wrote it out. i wanted something with a sprinkle of fluff so this was made. i hope you enjoy ily<3 Reblog and Feedbag appreciated. 
— 
She could feel that something wasn't right. 
Maybe it was the way her stomach had begun cramping out of nowhere, or perhaps it was the way that she felt herself grow abnormally wet as her boyfriend thrusts up into her. 
“God, look at you, so fuckin' pretty sittin' on my cock,” Harry moaned, his hips thrusting up as he pushed his hard cock in and out of her. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' much, lovie." He whines, his hands gripping at her hips as he slams her down onto him.
The tip of his cock was nudging right against that sweet spot that made her shake, her eyes squeezed shut as her mouth dropped open in a silent moan. She loved the way his hands felt on her burning skin. Loved the words that fell from his lips for her, making her try even harder to make him feel what he was giving her. 
“Shit. you're so fucking deep… right there, please don't—” her words got cut off by another moan as Harry thrusts harder into her, his hands held her hips as he kept driving his cock in and out of her dripping wet pussy. 
“Yeah? Am I fuckin’ you right? Am I satisfying this greedy little pussy of yours, baby? She’s fuckin’ sucking me right back in… greedy little bitch.” 
A string of whimpers escaped Y/N. One thing she loved more than being loved by Harry was being degraded by him during sex. It made her skin heat, her pussy became ten times wetter and she became a desperate little thing for him to use. 
Her whimpers turned from ones of pleasure to ones of pain as another set of cramps erupted in her lower stomach. 
Her eyes squeezed shut as the pain soared through her, her head felt dizzy as she tried to will it away.
“Are you… fuck, are you okay, love?” Harry asked, noticing the way her face had scrunched up. His thrusts slowed and came to a halt when she let out a groan. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks again. 
"Mmm. M-my stomach," she heaves out, her arms moving to wrap around her middle as she moans out another painful grunt. "Fuck, it hurts so bad." 
Harry's face pales, his first instinct is to reach for her stomach. In his mind, if he could touch where she was in pain then maybe he could rid her of some of that discomfort. 
Instead, as soon as Y/N saw his hands reaching for her first instinct was to squirm away, which only caused Harry to groan seeing as he was still seated inside of her pussy. 
Gripping her hips he used his hold to force her to become still, she hunched over and heaved out a few breaths as the wave of pain slowly began to disappear. 
"I've gotta— fuck… have to pull out of you, baby," Harry warns, his thumbs rubbing at her hip bones as he slowly lifts her off of his half-hard cock. 
Once they were separated Harry laid her down gently on her side next to him, his hand moving to swipe her hair away from her face as his other hand laid limp on the bedding next to him. 
He takes a moment to glance down at his cock that's now resting along his groin, his eyes widened when he saw what he thought was Y/N's arousal running down the base of his cock. 
Blood. 
Of course, the thought of it just being her period entered his head, it wasn't anything new to him. It wasn't something that he was unaware of. But he was more scared of her being hurt by the force he was using when he was thrusting into her. 
He tries to remember if she had been complaining about any symptoms that could point to it being just her period but he comes up blank. 
"Lovie…" he trails off, glancing back over to her he watches as her eyes crack open. "I– uh you're bleeding." 
“What?” she breathed out, her eyes darting down to his cock that lay covered in a mixture of blood and their arousal "I-I'm sorry." She breathes out, glancing up at him through her lashes. 
Harry shakes his head, his thumb rubs over her temples as he whispers, "it's okay, love. Jus' a bit of blood… are you okay though? I didn't hurt you right, baby?" 
A soft laugh escapes Y/N before she lets out a grunt, "your ego is just a bit too big, babe… I'm sure that it's just my period." She tells him, wincing as her eye catches the look of his cock covered in her blood. 
Embarrassment envelopes her mind and she finds herself tearing up, her eyes burning as she tears her eyes off of Harry altogether. Her cheeks are flooded with a crimson color as another wave of cramps hits her, moans of pain fall from her mouth as she burrows her face in the bedding.
“Come on, baby… let's get you cleaned up.” Harry mumbles, picking her up bridal style, her face tucks into his neck as soft whimpers escape her mouth as he walks them into the bathroom. 
Setting her down he leans over and turns on the water to fill up the tub, as he turns back around he can see her face still red, her eyes don't meet his but he can see them shining with tears. 
“Hey, hey, don't cry, baby,” he rushes out, pulling her forward he wraps his arms around her waist as he hugs her to him. ‘Don't ‘ave to cry, baby… it's okay.” 
“It's so embarrassing.” she cries, her shoulder shaking.  
“You've got nothin’ to be embarrassed about, baby. It's natural, it's fine, my love,” he whispers to her, his hands rubbing her back soothingly as her cries turn to quiet hiccups. “Shh, breathe, Y/N,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head before pulling away to look down at her. 
Using his thumb he wipes the tears from under her eyes, ridding her face of tears that she shouldn't shed. Leaning down he places a soft kiss on her forehead. 
“Look at me, baby,” he tells her, trying to get her to open her eyes. She doesn't listen, instead, she gives him a small shake of her head. 
Always his stubborn girl.
“Come on,” he drags out, whining when she still doesn't open them, “killin’ me here, pretty. You know I can't survive without seeing those gorgeous eyes of yours.” 
Still nothing. 
“Please baby.” he drags out again, burying his face into the crook of her neck. His lips graze her skin as he nuzzles closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Baby… you can't hide those eyes from me forever.” he sings out quietly, his lips grazing her neck again before they pucker against her skin. Instead of kissing her neck, he blows out air, giving her neck a raspberry kiss that makes her laugh as she tries squirming away. 
“There she is..” he trails off, a smile working on his face as her laugh echoes off the bathroom walls. “My pretty girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the curve of her neck he pulls his head back to look down at her. 
Her eyes are now opened as she stares up at him, a slight smile still faint on her swollen lips and he wants nothing more than to lean down and take her mouth with his own but instead, he leans his forehead onto hers. 
“Hey, I love you.” he mutters, watching as her eyes sparkle as the words roll off his tongue, "I know you're probably still embarrassed by what just happened but you've got nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I promise I'm not grossed out or anything, baby. I still love you as much as I did fifteen minutes ago… if not more, okay?" 
She offered him a small hum as her head nodded, inhaling deeply he pressed a soft kiss to her swollen lips before he leaned over to turn off the water. Looking back at her he holds out his hand for her to take. 
“Now let's get you cleaned and then we can have a cuddle, yeah? Sound good, baby?” 
Taking his hand she smiles at him, before stepping into the tub she rises on her toes to kiss his lips, “I love you too, it sounds amazing.” 
taglist: @handsomerry @greivingfortheliving @harrysfinelines @evanjh @one-sweet-gubler@awesomebooklover17 @dirtytissuebox @indigenous-daughter
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watchmegetobsessed · 9 hours ago
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VIOLET
A/N: ahh okay i am sooo excited that i reached 9k followers!! that is so massive and its really hard to believe so many of you are here and put up with me on your feed!😂 it happened so fast, i thought i still had some time until i reach this milestone and i wanted to write the euphoria fic as a celebration but i still haven't finished it so have this short little blurb i wrote last year, the idea came to me so randomly, but i thought it was cute! thank you guys so much for all the support!
PAIRING: Harry Styles X Reader
SUMMARY: Harry calls out the name of a woman in his sleep. But it's not yours...
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
MASTERIST
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You slowly wake to the feeling of being a bit cold, Harry snatched most of the covers once again, a regular occurrence. The room is dark, the digital clock on your nightstand reads 3:42, you’ve been asleep only for about three hours. Turning to the side you see Harry cocooned in the covers, lying on his side, his back facing you. Humming lightly you roll closer to him, pull on the covers so you’re warm again and you cuddle your fiancé, curling your arm around his abdomen and even asleep, he melts into your embrace, a low, soft growl slipping through his puckered lips.
He is so warm and sturdy against you, you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent and you press a few kisses to his shoulder blades before letting your head drop against the pillow. You’re already drifting back to your dreams when you hear Harry’s soft mumbling. Opening your eyes you lift your head a bit, leaning closer to him hoping to make out what he is saying, but his words are melting together.
“H?” you whisper, wondering if he is close to waking up.
“Baby…” you hear him humming and then something incoherent.
“I’m here,” you tell him softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you baby, that’s why you think he is talking to you.
“Baby… My baby…” he keeps repeating and you smile softly at the thought of appearing in his dreams, but then it all shatters with just one word. “Violet… Violet, my baby…”
Who the fuck is Violet?
It wakes you up faster than an alarm. Sitting up you stare down at the sleeping form of your fiancé who is still in the middle of his dream that is apparently about another woman called Violet. You know no one with this name, so it has to be someone only Harry knows and that’s just alarming.
“Violet… beautiful…” the words slip through his lips, almost inaudible, but they pierce your ears, they are like a punch into your chest.
He’s been so disoriented lately, but you didn’t think much of it, told yourself it’s just all the work he’s been putting into his new album, but now you see it in a different light. Can it be that Harry has been spending his time in the arms of another woman? The thought of him ever cheating on you never even occurred to you, everything has been so good, you’re planning the wedding for next summer and he never looked like he regretted his decision to propose.
But who is Violet then?
You barely sleep after that. Harry stops talking, he rolls to his stomach and just sleeps peacefully as you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory that could pop up in your mind and it’s eating you alive.
By the time the Suns tarts to rise on the horizon you’re already out of the bed, perched up on a kitchen stool with your laptop, scrolling back in the history, hoping to find a clue Harry left behind, but if he really is cheating on you, he wouldn’t be that stupid to bust himself like that. You make some tea and open gossip sites that usually post about his outings. You hate those sites, but now you want to know if he has been anywhere odd. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up, most of the times in the past months he was photographed with either you or his band members or Jeff. No trace of another woman.
Harry wakes to an empty bed. It’s odd not to have you wrapped around him in any way or that he is not clinging onto you like a koala bear. He blinks a few times through puffy eyes, his hand smoothing over the other side of the bed where your body should be lying. It’s not even warm so he knows you’ve been up for a long time.
Yawning and rubbing his eyes he pulls a hoodie over his head, forcing his arms into the sleeves as he slowly walks out of the room. He spots you right away, curled up on the edge of the couch, staring out the window, your forehead creased and it’s giving you away. Harry knows something’s gotten you worried.
“Hey, lovie, bed was cold without you,” he hums, padding his way over to you, the cushion dips as he sits close to you, a hand coming to rest on your knee while the other one is draped along the back of the couch leisurely.
You look at him, jaw clenched and though you didn’t want to start with this right away, first thing in the morning, it’s been eating you away for way too long. You need to know the truth.
“Who’s Violet?”
The surprise on his face is evident. And it’s not the kind where he has no idea what or who you are talking about, it’s clear that someone popped into his head at the mentioning of the name. Violet is a real person and Harry knows exactly who he is.
“Where is this coming from?” he asks, leaning back, putting a tad bit distance between the two of you, his arm falling from the back of the couch.
“You know someone named Violet?” you push, narrowing your eyes at him.
“I do, well… I don’t, not in the way you think…”
“You talk in your sleep, Harry.”
“What?” his eyes widen.
“Most of the time it’s just incoherent mumbling, but last night, you kept saying the name Violet over and over again and… you also said baby. You called her your baby.”
You watch him as the picture clears in his head and he closes his eyes exhaling slowly. Tears are stinging your eyes even though you promised yourself you’d approach this calmly and not let your emotions take over.
“Harry, are you cheating on me?” you ask, it’s barely just a whisper but he hears the words clearly, his head snaps in your way.
“What? Y/N, oh my God, of course not! You are the only woman in my life, I would be a fucking idiot to ever do that!”
“Then who is Violet?” you ask in a pained voice.
“I’ll tell you, but promise me you won’t think I’ve lost my mind, alright?”
“Harry, you’re scaring me,” you breathe out. “Just tell me!”
“Alright, okay,” he sighs shaking his head slightly. “You remember… Do you remember our pregnancy scare like two months ago?”
“Of course I do,” you nod.
Your period was late and you threw up in the morning. Harry picked up a test and the two of you sat on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom waiting for the test. It came back negative. You felt relieved, though something in the back of your head told you it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if you were pregnant. Part of you almost wanted it, but the timing is not the best these days and it would be nice to marry first and then have a baby.
“A few days after that… I had a dream.”
“A dream?” you furrow your eyebrows, not sure where this is heading.
“Yeah. It was about you and me and… we had a baby. A little girl. It was nothing crazy, you were just nursing her in our bed and I was watching you and then I was holding her… It felt real, when I woke up I felt… like something was missing.”
You listen to him intently, heart hammering in your chest as you pick on your bottom lip nervously.
“I’ve been having similar dreams ever since. At least two times a week. It’s always the same baby, you’re always in it, but we’re doing different things. Sometimes we’re bathing her, sometimes we’re walking in the park and she is sleeping in a stroller… One time my mum was in it too, God, that felt so fucking real,” he breathes out shakily. “The last few times, you didn’t just call her baby though. You gave her a name.”
Your eyes are tearing up, because you know where this is going now and it’s messing with your emotions.
“Violet? She is called Violet?” you ask softly and you push yourself closer to him, an arm coming to curl around your shoulders.
“Yeah. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine… she is like this perfect mixture of the two of us and… I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Sometimes I wake up after a dream of her and I feel like she’s been taken away from us, it feels so real…”
“Why didn’t you tell me about these dreams, H?” you ask him softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“It felt silly, and I didn’t know how it would make you feel. I know we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, I thought bringing it up would upset you maybe,” he shrugs, kissing your forehead gently.
Silence falls over the two of you as you sit on the couch, your head laid on his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You did not expect this outcome, none of your theories were anywhere near the truth Harry just revealed to you.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you speak up.
“About what?”
“Having a baby. What it would have been like if the test came back positive.”
“And…?” You lean back just enough to look into his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have minded if it was positive,” you truthfully admit and Harry sucks on his breath softly. “Do you want to… Do you want to start trying for a baby earlier than what we talked about?”
“I can wait,” he answers right away, as if he was scared to say something that would upset you. “It’s totally fine if we keep to what we—“
“But I want to know what you want, Harry. Just tell me.”
He breathes out, running his tongue across his lips before speaking up.
“I think… I do.” You can’t ignore how your heart is bursting from his words. It’s now making you realize that’s exactly how you’ve been feeling.
“If we start trying now and we succeed, that means I will probably have a bump at the wedding,” you smile at him and watch as his eyes light up.
“That would be the best thing ever,” he admits chuckling. “Marrying the love of my life when our baby is already growing under her heart… Jesus, I could cry just from the thought,” he admits laughing before pressing his lips to yours.
“So,” you smirk at him, cupping his jaw in one hand. “Violet?”
“It could be something else if it’s a girl.”
“I like it,” you hum nodding. “We can put it on the list. But before we can start a list… we should probably start the baby project, don’t you think?”
Harry doesn’t need more, he is quick to cradle you into his arms and rush back into the bedroom with you as you both are laughing and kissing, your clothes flying everywhere as you fall into bed.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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harryswifeofficial · 2 days ago
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daydream #1
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imagine a summer fling with harry. he’s just some beautiful stranger you met while on a solo-vacation and you both end up spending the remainder of your vacations together, til he convinces you to stay a little longer, maybe travel to other cities and what was supposed to be a one week vacation turns into, two, then three, then six???? he’s not even sure where it’ll go or for how long he’ll get to be with you so he doesn’t waste a second and makes sure every one of them counts. he’s typically reserved when it comes to flaunting his wealth but just this once he splurges on a yacht because you’d never been on one, and the most expensive restaurant so you can taste the best and most authentic food of the country you’re vacationing in. instead of key chains and mugs, he lets you keep one of his necklaces as souvenir, the one that’d really become both of yours by the end of the trip, so you’d never forget your month together. and that hotel you’d booked? you were hardly ever there, always spending a majority of your time at his suite, or perhaps the villa he was renting after he’d begged you to stay with him. you’d never quite said yes, a little distance would make meeting up for your daily activities and evening walks that much sweeter. and it gave you something to do at night: reminisce about the day and yearn for the next. of course every once in a while you found yourself in his bed, where waking up next to him always felt like you were still dreaming. those nights, you’d split a bottle of expensive wine, going over pictures you’d taken and laughing over inside jokes you’d made that day. and on those nights, when you were finally alone, when there was nothing left for your mouths to say, your hearts began to speak in the form of passionate kisses that always led to you wondering if the whole city could hear how loud he was making you scream. each day you’d do it all over again, his hand in yours as he dragged you through the city, showing you all of his favorite spots and the memories they were attached to. he was your favorite tour guide. and when those six weeks finally came to an end, you’d leave with a heavy heart, memories you’d carry with you for the rest of a lifetime, a brand new necklace, and his promise to meet again.
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cocoamoonmalfoy · 2 days ago
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Somewhere Out There
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Summary: Harry never thought he'd meet a witch in the middle of the woods, but he never would have guessed he'd grow so attached either.
Pairing: Harry Styles x black!fem!reader
A/n: I was gonna read this one more 'gain before i posted but then i... didnt 😬 hope it's all gucci. Thanks to @siwokann for being with me through all of this, but any mistakes are my own. Anyhoo this ended up almost 5.5k soo enjoy 😃! It's been too long in the making! Alludes to smut at the end but otherwise pretty tame. Reblog banner by @lauras-collection
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Harry cursed again as his Converse snagged on a loose rock. The sole was coming apart from the fabric at the toe and it made him pout. And he could pout at his leisure because he was alone. Tragically, hopelessly, all fucking alone in the middle of whatever the hell woods his friends had decided was a lovely location for a nature hike. Noooo Harry, we don’t need a path! they had said. Fuck if Harry needed a path, eh? And now look where he was! No seriously, where was he?
It’s amazing how trees can look so different yet indistinguishable from another. Harry didn’t think he was going in circles; this area didn’t look familiar, but it didn’t exactly look different either and that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was mostly scanning his surroundings for form and for safety reasons. Thankfully it was a little after midday (probably, his phone had died a while back and Harry was no boy scout), he had plenty of daylight hours left. Were bears active during the day? He feels that the active hours of bears should have been one of the things they went over before entering the woods.
Perhaps they did and he wasn’t paying attention? It’s not like he was expecting to get separated from the group like the first victim in a horror movie. Fuck now he was thinking about horror movies and drawing too many similarities between half-buried tree limbs with branches that reached out like a skeleton’s arm seeking to drag him under by his scuffed Converse.
Wow, panicking was not helping. His eyes swept the brush again and his brain instantly noticed something new in the area. Harry was startled to find an animal, sitting alert with its eyes trained on him.
A dog of all things. A doberman. Wearing... a crocheted sweater?
The dog was a good twenty feet away but Harry froze all the same. He could assume the dog belonged to somebody but who could be the owner way out here? The dog stared him down and he was getting kind of intimidated. Its unwavering gaze made him nervous enough to speak.
“Hi?” He tried. “You lost? You okay there, pup?”
The dug huffed and began to trot away.
“Well alright then.” Harry said, pursing his lips because really what on earth was he expecting?
He continued on the “path” (using that term real loosely) he had been walking before. He barely got a couple crunching steps in before he heard a bark. Harry looked back to see the doberman had returned.
“What?”
The dog turned around and walked a few steps before looking back, a low boff rumbling from its chest. Not quite a bark. Then it began walking again.
“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Harry scoffed. There’s no way this dog was leading him somewhere. Did Harry stumble into the Hundred Acre Woods? What was this Disney shit?
He let out a huge sigh and followed after the dog, shaking his head at his own foolish choice.
He was going to regret this, wasn’t he?
The dog led him for about ten more minutes until Harry could see he was walking on a well-worn path. It looked intentional and was confirmed when he saw a birdbath with little trinkets, marbles, and stones glinting in the clear water right before the walkway opened up into a clearing.
Harry’s jaw dropped.
Was he really in a Disney movie?
A cob cottage stood in a clearing, with all manner of whimsical decor around it. A thriving flower garden was hugged up to its perimeter, creeping ivies and moss stretching up to its roof. Large smooth stones with tiny wildflowers sprung up between led up to an ajar front door painted plum purple. Potted plants dotted the area as well with cutesy labels announcing themselves from the soil.
He even saw a fenced area towards the back of the cottage that sounds too chirpy to be called clucks piped up from.
All of this was topped off with a hairless calico lounged lazily upon a wooden bench soaking in sunlight. It, too, had a crochet sweater on. The cat didn’t even move and it gazed at them with indifference as they approached.
Harry continued after the doberman on autopilot as it booped the cat on its way passed and nudged the ajar purple door open wider with a telling creak.
“Beena, that you girl?”
Harry just managed to swallow a reflexive shriek. Of course he should have assumed there would be an occupant but he was a touch distracted.
The dog gave another boff sound and plodded towards the sound of the voice. The dumbfounded feeling knocked into Harry again as the owner came into sight.
To the right of the front door, a wide entryway gave a clear view to a kitchen and dining area. There, a young woman stood at an old fashioned cast iron, wood burning stove. She wore denim overalls and a long sleeve lavender shirt shoved up to the elbows. Kinky hair that fell to her shoulder blades was secured with a sunflower bandana. Her bare feet shifted with her weight as she reached to grab different ingredients and toss them into a cast iron dutch oven.
She looked like a real life modern Briar Rose.
She smiled down at the dog that came to sit by her side.
“Did you get me some wood?” She asked as she gave the pot a good stir. There was a pause before her face scrunched up and she looked back down at the canine.
“Seriously?! I asked you for one thing, Beena! What the hell did you end up doing?”
A small silence settled, just long enough to let anxiety wash over Harry, and then the woman snapped her attention to him. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose and his heart thudded somewhere in his throat. The middle of her attention was a daunting place to be.
“Oh girl. You are so bad at fetch.”
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Harry couldn’t help his own awkwardness, looking around the house and seeing everything he’d expect in the cottage the fairies raised Aurora in. Herbs hanging from a string across her ceiling, clusters of crystals at different points around the room, even a short broom propped up near the front door. There was so much to look at but it made him acutely aware that he was still being stared at by two pairs of brown eyes.
“So you just live out here? In a fairytale house? In the woods? By yourself?”
“I don’t live by myself! I’m Y/n–not that you fucking asked by the way. Verbena, or Beena,” she said, pointing to the dog sitting next to her, “helps me run the cottage. You probably passed Candy Corn on the way in, she likes being outside but only until she starts getting plagued by nature. I hear Franklin thumping around in my room, he’s a bunny. And Count is a fruit bat that comes and goes.” She finished with a shrug, like everything she just said was the most normal shit.
“What are you, a witch?”
“Yes,” she said, gesturing to herself and surroundings as if he was the dumb one here. Y/n shook her head, pressing her temple. “It’s too early for all of this.”
Harry scoffed. “It’s almost noon!” Maybe. Somewhere’s about there at least.
“Hey! I don’t show up in your house and start criticizing your lack of a circadian rhythm!” Y/n snapped at him, shaking out the tension in her shoulders as she continued. “I go to sleep around four, typically. I’m mostly nocturnal.”
Beena boffed, turning towards the front door again.
“Nah, you’re right, he’s not. Go ahead.”
“I’m not what?”
“A threat.”
Harry was offended. He supposed he didn’t want to be the alternative, but to be so easily written off by a dog was not comforting. He flopped down on the couch.
“Hey careful! That ivy is sensitive!”
There was an English ivy that had crept onto the sofa back as if it were trying to inch its way towards a nice lounge itself. He scooted away from it for form. “Sorry, but my body feels like it weighs a ton! I’m so tired. My back hurts, my feet are sore, and not to mention the damage to my shoes—.”
“Then don’t mention it.” Y/n cut in drily.
“Hey! Those woods are rough!”
She sighed and turned to the stove, placing a cast iron kettle on the eye. She added water to it and cut on the heat. “Any allergies?”
“Umm no?”
“Good.”
Y/n worked methodically, grabbing different ingredients he couldn’t read the names of and placing them in a strainer. She lingered over one herb, peeked at him over her shoulder then tossed in a bit before closing the jar up tight.
The water bubbles to her left and she pours it over the blend.
“Here, drink this.”
“Is this a potion?” He asked warily.
“Everything I make is a potion because I’m a witch.”
“Is that really how it works?”
“Yes because I said so and I’m the only witch here, I’m the authority.”
“So if you made cocoa from a packet...”
“Potion.”
“Lemonade?”
“Potion.”
“What about—.”
“Do you want your body to stop hurting or not?!”
He took a sip, finding the taste to be a conflicting flavor of naturally sweet and woody. It was the perfect temperature too, so he downed it, smacking his lips together afterwards. He searched the end table near him. “No coaster?”
Y/n gave him a withering look from where she leaned against the archway. “Just put it down, cup rings won’t kill me.”
Harry settled a little deeper into the couch, getting nice and comfy as his body felt a little light. Yet his head felt heavy? He leaned it back on the couch back, closing his eyes as he called out to his host. “So what now? When’s the pain’liever kick in?” he asked, words slurring against his will. There was shuffling of Y/n’s feet over the smooth wood flooring, but he couldn’t open his eyes to confirm her movement. He heard her voice carry over the muffle in his ears.
“Thinkin’ right about now, bud.”
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The first thing his mind registered was that he felt great. The second was that he was absolutely not in a place he immediately recognized. He sat up and stretched, a blanket falling from him as he did so. A pensive hum had him looking up to see Y/n was in the kitchen still, back turned to him again as she stood at her counter with a spread of produce laid out. A lop-eared bunny stood at her feet, munching stereotypically on a runty carrot. Franklin, he supposed.
“Should I do shepherd's pie tonight?” Y/n mused, rubbing at her chin like she was stroking a beard.
“Ooh yes!”
Y/n leapt and screamed bloody murder, which made Harry scream in kind. Both of which sent Franklin into a frenzy, natural prey conditioning had him fleeing the immediate area to hide under a large standing pantry.
“What?! What happened?!” Harry said, clenching at his chest.
“Sorry! Jeez, I am not used to verbal responses like that. Keep forgetting you’re here.”
“Yeah, maybe we should talk about the fact that you drugged me, yeah?”
“I missed the quiet,” she waved him off. “And plus, you’re all healed up now I’m sure.”
“Oh ha ha… and yes, I do feel amazing. Why are you cooking again? You were making a big pot of something when I was brought here earlier.”
“Oh that wasn’t food,” Y/n dismissed casually. He just mentally ??????ed as she kept on. “But if I can get this set up to simmer, we could probably go back out there and find your friends.”
“‘Go back out there’? At night? There’s way too much out there that can kill me! I’m glad I made it here without incident.”
Y/n rolled her eyes. “The scariest thing in these woods is me. I made sure of it.”
He barely caught that last part.
“Now if you’re too anxious to go tonight, we can head out tomorrow morning. Are your friends looking for you maybe?”
“My phone died.”
“I got a solar charger you can use,” she said, heaving herself from the counter. “Stay right there, I’ll be back.”
Harry could feel Verbena’s eyes on him but he refused to make contact with her. He was not about to get into a staring contest with a dog. Again.
Instead he took the time to look around the new space he had awakened in, scoping out that every wall had built-in floor to ceiling shelves covered with books and candles and containers and crystals. A framed quilted square sat on one table and he raised his eyebrows, impressed. It looked extremely complicated and detailed. He wondered if Y/n had made it herself and how long it took.
There was a basket next to the couch he sat on with two stacks of blankets, both crocheted and quilted. The rug under his boots even looked handmade and he self-consciously tucked his feet into the small space between the couch and the rug. A couple plants thrived in pots, no brown spots or wilted leaves like the poor ones back in his apartment.
Y/n came back as he was examining a terrarium on her end table. She handed the device over with a cheery here you go and he accepted it with gratitude. Harry turned it this way and that in his hands. It looked like a plan slab of a blue agate. What the fuck?
“Um, do I need my charger cord?” He asked, reaching for the zipper to one of his backpack’s many compartments.
“No, you just lay the phone on top of it.”
Just lay it on top??? “Wh— yknow what? Cool. Fine. I’ll just put it on top,” Harry placed it on the flat of the pad, expecting it to do nothing. His face dropped and turned hot as the apple symbol appeared on a blindingly white screen and began charging. Un-freaking-believable.
“Is this magic?”
Her nose wrinkled with a frown. “No, I got it off Etsy.”
Harry pouted at the mundane explanation.
“So how did you even get into this mess, uhhh what was your name again?”
“‘M, Harry. I’ve been visiting friends in the area. And they thought it would be a fun idea to go for a hike today,” Harry said, grumpy. Stupid friends. Stupid woods. “I thought hiking trails were supposed to have clear markers?”
“It does. How did you get so far off of it? There are literally signs everywhere. And how did your friends lose you?”
Harry picked self-consciously at a loose thread near the knee of his jeans. “I may have stepped away to take a quick wee…”
“And didn’t tell anyone?!”
“I thought I'd be quick! Then I wanted to take a picture of this butterfly and–.”
“Oh my god.”
“--hey, hey! None of that! Not like I was trying to get lost, but having a little alone time in the woods was nice until it was my only option.”
“Well, yeah I can imagine wanting some peace after spending three straight days with people,” Y/n said, shuddering against the thought.
Harry narrowed his eyes as he considered her. “When’s the last time you were with another human for more than two days straight?”
“‘Days?’” she parroted with a dubious expression.
“Okay, twenty-four hours,” Harry conceded. His brow frowned as her calculating silence edged on. “Twelve hours,” he amended. Her visage continued to reflect her parsing through her memory. Harry got the mental image of her thumbing through a physical calendar like a rolodex. “Six?!”
“Oh, easy! One Saturday a month I go into town and visit my friend to pick up my mail that I get forwarded to her home and we go shopping! Farmer’s Market, thrift stores, apothecary, that new milkshake place by the theater with the killer gourmet to-do’s—.”
“Shake That hasn’t been new for nearly a year!”
An indignant crease pinched her brow. “It’s new to me, dammit! I’ve only been there four times!”
Harry had finally been able to get in touch with his friends, and thankfully the search party they had organized could be called off. They offered to come and get him, but he hesitated. His eyes traveled back up to the girl cleaning up from the tasty homemade dinner they’d shared. His time in the little cottage had been otherworldly and intriguing. They’d even had pleasant conversation over the dish. And he really didn’t want it all to end just yet. He sent them a quick text that he’d see them in the morning and put his phone to the side.
Hopping up from the couch, he joined Y/n at the sink, wordlessly hip checking her to the side so he could wash the dishes while she dried and put them away.
“I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but why do you have so many blankets and quilts when it’s just usually you here, then?” He felt the question was a fair one. There was one basket of them by the couch and another next to a bay window. Two blankets were draped over the back of the couch and the one he used for his little nap earlier scrunched up at the opposite end of where he was sitting.
Y/n scoffed, tossing her hair with a sass he was becoming endeared to. “What exactly do you think blanket forts are made of? And I love my little home but the insulation could be better. During winter, I’m in like a blanket nest-fort-combo for the majority of the day. Just me and the gang snuggled up as I do whatever projects I’m working on, read, take a nap, you get it.”
Harry fought a coo welling up in his throat at the bloody cozy image she just painted and he desperately wanted to see it. Wanted to be in on it.
“So… how would you feel about building one right now for the night?”
“Really?” Y/n said, a giddy smile stretching her pretty lips, excitement betraying her.
He smirked a bit. “Show me your skills.”
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Don’t ask Harry why he’s at the farmer’s market for the second Saturday in a row. He’s trying really hard not to acknowledge why he’s at the farmer’s market for the second Saturday in a row.
Last week he’d moseyed around the same twenty stalls for almost three hours, only leaving with a quart of (really fucking delicious) strawberries and a patched up jean jacket with the softest denim he’s ever felt.
Harry busied himself by perusing the same stalls as the previous week, wondering if maybe he should actually get some produce and make something indulgent for himself. He takes his precious time and tries not to think that he may not get what he came for this week either. If he thought too hard about the fact that he would most certainly be here again next Saturday, he may grip the peach in his hand too hard and bruise it. Three times may be too difficult for him to keep excusing the trip as no big deal.
He’s not sure why he ended up looking around (just kidding, he scanned the surrounding area every ten minutes or so) but suddenly the reason he was here walked behind him. Jesus, he had almost missed his chance. He cleared his throat of the urgency he felt welling up.
“Y/n?” He asked in fake surprise.
She didn’t hear him. She kept walking, looking ahead at a pottery booth.
Harry hates the way he hustled after her, taking care to place the peach gently back down first. He slowed about five paces behind her.
“Y/n?” He asked again in fake surprise, like doing a Take 2 on a movie set. He almost deflated in relief when she turned to look at him curiously. Then all of him heated up about ten degrees as a pleased smile stretched across her lips.
“Harry? Oh my God, how are you? It’s been awhile!” She said as they both stepped out of the flow of traffic between two stands.
“Yeah, what are the odds, huh?” He said unconvincingly even to his own ears. He coughed into his fist. “I’m, uh, I’m good! Great! Just shopping!”
“Me too! It’s my day in town,” she shrugged, referencing the faraway conversation from before.
“Oh, wow! How lucky!” God, he should stop using so many exclamation points in his voice shouldn’t he. Chill out, Styles! “Just getting here or...?”
“Yup, not too long ago! Was going to grab groceries on the way out. Dropped my mug the other day so I was gonna grab another. Maybe browse the thrift clothes.”
“Well, I haven’t been here long,” a lie, “how about we do our shopping together and catch up?”
“Sure thing, dude!” She turned and continued towards the pottery booth. Harry tried his best not to look like a complete dope as he fell into step with her.
He noticed that every dog came up to greet Y/n.
Every. Single. One.
The two paused at what she said was her usual grocery stall. Baskets and baskets of seasonal produce framed a few folding tables, a few workers with plain green aprons boasting the farm they came from milled behind them.
“Y/n! Was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it this week!” A man called out from behind the table. He was young, a tank top on under the long apron accentuated beefy muscles. Beefy muscles tattooed with plants, crystals, celestial bodies, and a stylized yin and yang symbol. Y/n smiled brightly up at the man.
Harry hated him, instantly.
“Blake, you know I don’t adhere to the societal construct of time,” she snorted and got out her phone to look at a produce list. Blake? Blake? There was no way Harry was going to let himself be jealous of a fucking Blake.
“Who’s this?” BLakE asked, raising an eyebrow in Harry’s direction.
“The name’s Harry.” He’s pretty sure he kept the little bite out of his tone.
“Ok, can I help you with anything?” Harry peeked over to see Y/n was busily collecting everything she needed out of earshot.
“Nope, just here with Y/n. We made a pretty big dent in her pantry when I last stayed over at her place. Worked up an appetite, y’know? Wanna make it up to her; how much do her totals usually run at your stand?”
“Um, I mean, usually like eighty dollars—.”
Harry wordlessly pulled out a hundred from his wallet and handed it over with a cheery smile.
“Keep the change. I love supporting local businesses.”
Blake frowned at him before taking the bill. He looked over to where Y/n was choosing between bushels of spinach. Harry felt a little guilty when he saw the bit of longing that entered the man’s eyes but he shook it away. He had come this far, dammit. Blake looked back down at the hundred and murmured. “Thanks man. You two have a good weekend.”
Okay, Harry was feeling a lot guilty. Especially the way the guy trudged back to the older gentleman with command over the cashbox. But Harry could be selfish when he really wanted to and he rathered the guy’s heart be broken than his own. So there.
“Where’d Blake go? I’m ready to pay.” Y/n said as she reappeared.
“I already paid for you. As thanks for taking me in a couple weeks ago.”
“Harry! Jeez! I’ve got like eighty dollars worth of shit!”
“I covered it. Come on, let me help you lug all of that.”
“Fine. But I’m treating you to goat’s milk ice cream.”
“Absolutely not.” He refused swiftly with a disgusted frown.
“It wasn’t an option. And anyway, you’re gonna eat those words.”
And he certainly did. And a double scoop of vanilla goat’s milk ice cream. It was so good that it even overcame the bitterness he felt when the cute worker— Bianca, he thought with a small sneer— flirted openly with Y/n who just laughed off her advances. His brows literally could not remain furrowed as the creamy goodness melted on his tongue. So screw her, but he definitely identified with Diana Prince tasting ice cream for the first time.
As they walked towards the exit, Harry realized something.
“Wait, you don't have a car, how did you get here?”
“Aw shit! Forgot to text Isis that I was wrapping up.”
“It’s okay, I could take you home. Y’know if you didn’t mind. Or wherever you need to go next. It’d be my pleasure. I have nothing else to do today at all.” Way to not be obvious, mate. Why don’t you just get on one knee already.
Y/n snorted. “Well if you don’t mind—.”
“I don’t! I mean, I don’t.” He said, covering up his over-enthusiasm.
“Well, lead the way.”
Harry had to focus on walking at a normal speed.
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“Wow, this place is so much easier to get to when you’re trying to.”
“Yeah, I made it that way. You actually never would have found me without Beena.”
He tried not to dwell on the horror of what could have happened had she not. No wonder Beena had deemed him nonthreatening that day, ‘lack of survival skills’ had probably been written across his ass in secret magic dog language.
“‘S it okay if I wash up? My hands are a little sticky from the ice cream.”
“Sure!” She directed him to the bathroom and he placed the bags he’d carried in down on her kitchen table.
Harry took the time to examine the bathroom while he was in there. A shelf was fixed over the bath and it looked homemade. It contained bottles of salts all aptly named: Sweet Dreams, Relaxation, Shark Week, Full Moon Cleanse, and Cold/Flu. It had a removable plank of polished wood with a little circular groove in it that looked like a place for a cup.
Someone liked herself a nice luxurious soak.
After smelling a couple of the salts and oils, Harry figured he’d been gone too long. He didn’t want to be (correctly) accused of snooping. When he entered the room again, the produce was all put away as Y/n lounged on her couch with a Nintendo Switch in hand. The familiar game music made him shoot her an incredulous look.
“Are you seriously playing Stardew Valley? You live Stardew Valley!”
“Not true! Plus what me and Elliot have is special!”
Harry was not going to get jealous of a video game character.
“Who the fuck is Elliot?” Welp, there goes that.
But Y/n was only too happy to wax poetic about her darling Elliot and detail the heart events she unlocked. He found himself smiling at her adorable enthusiasm and how seriously she took the game. Fine, Elliot was off the hook if she was that happy wooing him in her fictional world. Harry skimmed one of her many bookshelves as she spoke.
“What’s this one?” He called out, pointing to a blue leather bound book with golden stars embossed on it.
“A dream journal.”
His fingers skimmed over the spine of a Lisa Frank trapper Keeper. “And this one?”
“Grimoire.”
“And this one?” He said with a smile, enjoying this little game he’s discovered.
“My gardening journal.”
“And this one?”
“Don’t touch that!”
Harry jumped back immediately, retracting both hands into his chest. “What?! Does it have, like, spells to summon demons?!”
She gave him a look of dry disbelief. “No, it's where I outline my fanfiction. I’m getting buried with it. And summoning demons, really? Tell me what you really think of me.”
He cleared his throat and straightened up. “….And this one?”
“Ooo that’s a photo album!! Take it down, it’s got kitten Candy in there!!”
Y/n slid to the floor and Harry joined her there. They flipped through the pages and he must admit, Cotton Candy as a kitten was absolutely a must see. The album itself was full of pictures of her animal companions. Verbena looked the same age in all of them and Harry didn’t get a clear answer out of Y/n on how old she was. He even saw pictures of Count, the fruit bat she said comes and goes. She was feeding him a slice of papaya, the juices dripping down her arm in a way that shouldn’t have distracted Harry. Yet, he was acutely aware of the centimeter of space that separated his shoulder from hers as they sat side by side. He cleared his throat as he told his mind to shut up and focused on the polaroids and digitally printed photos.
“There aren’t enough selfies of you in this.”
“Why would I want to see me?”
“I want to see you. Pictures of you and everything. Did you have a goth witch phase? Was your aesthetic always cottagecore leaning? I need to know.”
She scoffed. “Of course I had a goth witch phase, I’m a millennial. We all had Hot Topic access and Evanescence exposure.”
“I need the photo evidence.”
“Those pictures no longer exist anywhere.”
“Nowhere? What, did you download some program to erase your embarrassing phases from the internet?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous. Isis is a tech witch, we struck a deal. I banished something for her, she banished those for me.”
“‘Something’? Like an evil something?”
“Why is that where you always automatically go?”
Harry smiled as he turned more towards her. “That’s not an answer and now I just have more questions! Did you have a magical girl transformation? Like Sailor Moon or summat?”
“Okayyy, that’s enough out of you.” Y/n said, taking the album out of his hands but he kept a grip on it.
“Noooo, we're not done!”
“You are.”
The tug of war ends with them in the cliched position. His body lying half on top of hers on the floor. Harry can’t say it was an accident at all really; he had let his fingers slip as she yanked the book back, falling part ways into her lap. Their faces were close as their laughter hushed and the tension rose. He let his gaze fall to her lips, parted around her breaths. So very inviting. He wanted to feel them against his own, to lick into the space between them and taste her tongue. Wanted to feel her moan into his mouth as he held her close. Wanted to–.
The photo album thudded to the floor as Y/n’s hands framed his face. She closed the space between them and Harry responded immediately, seeking to get as lost as possible in her. He wondered if there was magic in her kiss or if that was the hopeless romantic in him waxing poetic. But he felt an energy thrumming just under his skin everywhere their skin met. Harry skated his hands over her midriff and behind her back, hands splaying wide over the warm skin. Y/n’s moan tasted like the tea she had been drinking earlier, fruity and earthy. He swallowed it down with a groan, breaking from her lips to taste more of her skin. Her hands were threading roughly through his curls as he pressed hungry kisses against her neck.
She went for his shirt next, tugging the shirttail until he broke from her. Harry took it off so hastily, he heard a few stitches in the collar pop but that wasn’t important in the least right then. Eagerly, he got his hands back on her, reaching up to unhook her bra.
“Wait!”
But it was too late. Several tumbled crystals the size of his thumb nail clattered to the floor between them. She bit back a laugh as he stared blankly at where they landed.
“Honestly at this point, are you doing kegels with one too?”
The laugh broke from her and he couldn’t fight the grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh.
“Come on then, can’t lay you down here over all the debris.”
“Hey, don’t talk so insensitively about my rocks!” Y/n scolded as Beena exited a room. The familiar cocked her head in inspection, the brown markings over her eyes angled to look like a raised eyebrow.
They passed by her in the hall, still both giggling like children on the way to Y/n’s room. Harry paused before closing the door all the way.
“Oh by the way, apologies in advance for the noise. May fancy a walk in the woods for a bit,” he said with a cheeky grin. He almost missed the way Beena rolled her eyes and trotted away.
Harry huffed. That dog was going to respect him one of these days, dammit.
“Harry!” Y/n’s voice came from behind him.
Today, however, he'd be finding out the answer to that kegels question he asked earlier.
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If you liked this, check out my Harry Styles masterlist for more!
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onefineangel · a month ago
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—73 QUESTIONS WITH VOGUE—
SUMMARY: Harry does his 73 questions with vogue interview and the fans love it (LOT/Dad!Harry)
WORD COUNT: 1.8K || FIC TYPE: Fluff
A/N: Hey guys, welcome to my first ever fic, I hope you all enjoy it! I had great fun writing this so please don’t forget to like and maybe reblog. It’ll mean a lot to me <3
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∘₊✧─── Joe knocked on the massive white doors of Harry’s London mansion, he couldn’t believe he was finally managing to interview the Harry Styles, someone his team has been chasing around for years to agree to this.
He was nervous, I mean who wouldn’t be? Harry was a multi-millionaire, Grammy winner and husband to the famous actress y/n Styles. That man surely would’ve had some ego and attitude to him, right?
Now Joe wasn’t that rich, sure he had a good-paying job but he was nowhere near as rich as Harry and that made him feel inferior, especially after seeing his mansion. An 8 bedroom detached house in the finest area of London. Joe felt out of his comfort zone.
But his thoughts were cut short when the door opened revealing a very happy Harry adorned from head-to-toe in Gucci, of course, looking as relaxed as ever.
“Hey man,” Harry was first to speak, a smile adorning his face, his dimples looking as prominent as ever. Now, Joe was a straight man and father to 4 kids but damn did he have the biggest crush on Harry. Who wouldn’t? Harry was simply perfect, his curly brown hair styled in the most appealing way and his jaw as sharp as ever. Joe swore it looked as sharp as a knife but before he started drooling, he cleared his throat and replied.
“Hey! I’m Joe from Vogue and I’m here to ask you a few questions” Joe spoke, making sure his voice was nice and steady, being sure his crush wasn’t as obvious.
Harry’s smile widened, “ah yes, I was expecting you. Come on in!” He replied, waving the camera inside his house. He guided Joe and the camera crew into the lounge, where Y/n was sitting, nursing their 3-month-old baby whose name was yet to be revealed.
Y/n smiled, waving at the camera. “Hey, guys! Harry couldn’t sleep last night, he was way too excited about this interview” she chuckled and Harry teasingly stuck his tongue out at her. “You didn’t need to tell them that, peach” he chuckled making Joe laugh.
He liked how laid back Harry was, and the chemistry between both Harry and y/n was undeniable. They were the cutest couple he’s interviewed so far, hands down. The banter they had, Joe could just tell they were soulmates that were meant to be.
“I was in the same position last night as well Harry” Joe joked, making the couple laugh.
“So Harry, you started in the boy band, one direction”
“I did”
“Out of the boys in one direction, who do you talk to the most now, 11 years on?” Joe asked his first question, obviously starting with asking questions about the beginning of his career.
“I love all the boys obviously, but life gets in the way. I just came back from tour and had a baby all in one year so it’s difficult to remain in touch but I’d say, the guy I speak to most is definitely Niall” Harry answered the question, walking around the lounge, trying not to stay in one place for too long.
“Nice. He seems amazing, do you have a favourite song of his?”
“He’s the best. Y/n and I particularly enjoy Slow Hands, don’t we peach?” Harry asked his wife, the innuendo making her laugh.
“We sure do, H” she replied and Joe smiled.
“That’s definitely a favourite of mine as well. Now, speaking of Y/n, what was the song for your first dance at your wedding?” Joe asked, knowing the answer would make Harry fans all over the world melt.
“It was Best Part by H.E.R featuring Daniel Caesar. I also sang her an unreleased song of mine after our first dance, it was truly such a special day” Harry said, his eyes were glowing at the memory and Joe had to stop himself from awing out loud.
“It was the best day” Y/n agreed from behind him and Harry nodded smiling sweetly before turning to look at her and throwing her a wink.
“And…will you ever release this unreleased song?” Joe asked, taking his chance.
“Nope, it’s just for my missus” was Harry’s answer and Joe was sure he just melted every one of his fangirls hearts by saying that.
Before Joe could even say anything else, a little cry broke through taking Harry attention away. In just seconds, Harry was sitting next to his wife, cooing at their whimpering baby. His finger was caressing their baby’s cheek as he whispered sweet nothings to her.
“Oh, darling, what’s gotten you so upset? Is mommy not feeding you? Is that the matter?” Harry cooed, taking the little bub out of his wife’s arms and resting her at the crook of his neck as he gently rubbed her back making her burb.
“I think the problem is that she’s had a bit too much milk” y/n chuckles, teasingly punching her husband for blaming her. “My nipples are going to fall off from her constant biting. Shit, I forgot the cameras were still rolling, cut that part out” she laughs, covering her embarrassed face in her hands.
“Don’t worry we will!” Joe consoled her just as Harry put an arm around his wife and kissed her temple.
“Nothing embarrassing about having sore nipples baby, remember when this bub mistook me for you and started sucking on my nips” Harry reminded his wife, pulling a giggle out her lips and making everyone else laugh as well.
“I swear to God, my nipples hurt for a while after that. Little bub is strong, isn’t she?” Harry asked, making his little girl babble out a little laugh, her crying had died down a while ago.
“Harry, you had a baby girl on December 17th right?”
“Yep, that’s my little princesses birthday”
“What’s the most rewarding part of parenthood so far?” Joe asked his next question, one that Harry’s fans were dying to know the answer to. They wanted all the dad content they could get.
“Hmm, that’s a weird question. I think there’s a lot of rewards that come along with parenthood, there’s no one specific thing that’s most important or most rewarding. Like, I absolutely adore hearing her little babbles and watching her giggle, I love her little dimples and her curls that look just like mine. I love the bond she has with Y/n and how you could tell that she absolutely loves her. I love doing skin to skin with her and catching her staring at me and realising just how similar she looks to my wife. Every part of parenthood is rewarding, even the late nights because I’m spending that time with my little bubba. The little girl that made me a daddy” Harry spoke all whilst playing along with his daughter, Joe loved how he didn’t even have to think before answering this question. Harry really did seem like the perfect father and that was incredible.
“She sounds absolutely adorable, I’m happy for you Harry” Joe spoke, his eyes intently on the father-daughter bonding.
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it”
“Now, you haven’t announced her name. Will we be the lucky ones you tell her name to?”
“No we haven’t announced the name, I was originally meant to when I posted about her birth but I was so excited and nervous about this whole new chapter I totally forgot to add her name into the caption. Y/n and I promise we’re not keeping her name away from you all on purpose. We simply forgot to tell you all it” Harry explained making Joe and the crew chuckle.
Joe completely understood the pressures and the nerves of having a newborn so he didn’t not blame Harry for being forgetful.
“Don’t worry man, it happens. My wife and I forgot to let our families know when she went into Labour. Having a baby is nerve-wracking” Joe said, letting Harry and y/n both know that it’s completely fine.
“So are we getting the name now or not?” Joe egged the couple on and the two chucked, looking at each other and nodding.
“The baby’s name is Poppy Belle Styles!” The couple announced, both pressing sweet kisses to their baby’s temple. It was obvious to Joe just how loved the baby truly was and he was so happy for them.
“That’s a beautiful name! What made you choose it?” Joe asked, smiling at the two sitting on the couch, their baby still in Harry’s arm. He pressed another kiss to her head before answering the question.
“Well when we found out Y/n was pregnant, this little one was the size of a poppy seed and since then we saw poppy related things everywhere. So it just stuck. And since she’s so pretty and perfect we thought Belle would be the perfect middle name as it means pretty in French. Styles is quite self-explanatory” Harry explained, staring at his baby the whole time, gently caressing her and loving up on her.
Joe nodded and then proceeded to ask more questions about the tour and how it was, touring with a pregnant wife and before he knew it, he had asked his 73 questions and was done.
“I had the best time here Harry. You and Y/n are absolutely amazing and Poppy is the most adorable. I congratulate you on all your success and wish you nothing but the best!” Joe spoke, as he began to leave, he shook Harry’s hand and Harry smiled.
“Thanks for coming over man, I had a great time as well. We appreciate you! Hope I was ok” Harry spoke, nervous about whether or not he did a good interview. He didn’t want to upset or disappoint any fans.
“You did amazing, everyone’s going to love this”
“Thanks, man! Feel free to come by whenever, we’re friends now” Harry shone his million-dollar smile one more time before he said his goodbyes and closed the big white front door leaving Joe an elated mess.
That was the best interview he’s ever done, he couldn’t believe he thought Harry was some stuck up rich bastard. He was the absolute opposite of that and that made Joe very happy. He couldn’t wait to go home and tell his wife all about his crazy day in London. He knew this 73 questions video would do crazy on YouTube.
And he was absolutely correct, it broke the 73 questions with vogue record as the highest number of likes and comments and the video was trending for at least a week, everyone was absolutely obsessed with the Harry and Y/n duo, and they loved their daughter, Poppy Belle Styles.
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all-my-love-for-harry · 24 days ago
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Happiest birthday.
summary: Y/n gives Harry the best birthday gift he’s ever had. 
word count: 5.3k (got a little carried away)
a/n: hi friends! a little fluff piece for you while i get the longer pieces done, i’m sorry if itsn’t that good. I used Lover by Taylor Swift for this imagine, i hope you don’t mind <3 if you like my work please reblog or give me some feedback, it means the world to me :)
you can read the rest of my work here. 
italics mean flashbacks 
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When it came to birthdays, Y/n was the most competitive person ever. She enjoyed showering her loved ones with gifts, wanting nothing more than make them feel special on their special day. Now, she gave very thoughtfully, unique gifts for everybody, so when it came to her boyfriend, her favorite person in the world, every birthday of his had to top the last one. The thing was, it was difficult to buy gifts for someone who already has it all. There was no material thing the man didn't have or couldn't buy himself, so Y/n decided to make his presents. She figured that way would be more intimate.
To be completely honest, Harry loved opening the box and not seeing an expensive watch or a Gucci shirt. He was utterly enamored with his girl, so he adored anything she gave him. Their first year together, she gave him a book filled with pictures, notes, receipts, and tickets of different places they went to through that year. It meant so much to Harry how she kept every single little thing from the tickets of the movie they went to see on their first date to a picture of them that Gemma took when they went on a double date. He was so moved by it he was sure he shed some tears and was not ashamed of saying it every time someone would ask him what was that book that left its place on the coffee table of his home.
"Most thoughtful gift I've received. Cried like a baby when I opened it."
On his birthday, Y/n decided to learn how to knit. It was challenging, and she thought of giving up more than once, but once she saw Harry's flabbergasted smile as soon as he opened the gift and saw the red cardigan carefully folded, it was all worth it. He refused to take it off the rest of the night and even the day after when they went out for brunch and it was so damn hot outside but he didn't care.
Each anniversary, birthday, album release, Y/n was always there with a gift that, according to Harry, always topped the last one. That was until she ran out of ideas.
It happened when she was starting to plan what to give Harry on his birthday and she sat there for an hour and couldn't think of anything. She couldn't just go and buy him a bottle of perfume, or a shirt. Not when she knew Harry looked forward to her gifts the most.
"You could get the man a rock and he'd still think it was the best gift he's ever received." Mitch observed as his friend phased around back and forth in the room. Y/n had called him to ask him for help, not really sure why but they were close and she was desperate. 
"Mitch, I need real ideas."
"Why don't you write him a song?" He shrugged. Y/n let out a laugh. "Hear me out, you're already a great writer."
"I don't know how to write wongs." She mumbled, taking a seat next to her friend.
"You write poems, right?" She nodded. "Well, it's not that different. Think about it, he's written dozens of songs about you, returning the favor would make him shit his pants." Y/n rolled her eyes playfully at Mitch but thinking about his idea. "I would help you."
"Really?"
"Sure." He shrugged, thinking it wasn't a big deal. "I could help you edit down the lyrics so it isn't too long." 
"I guess writing him a song would be a cool gift." She said. "But who would sing it? I mean, if I give it to him on paper it would be just a poem."
Y/n saw Mitch do something he didn't do too often. He smiled. A wide grin spread through his face as he looked at her. "You'll sing it."
"Absolutely not."
"C'mon Y/n/n, you can sing. We've seen you after three shots of tequila." 
"Shut up, Mitchell."
//
It took a little coaxing, but Y/n agreed to his idea and soon they were working on Harry's birthday gift. Mitch booked a small studio in London where they could work on the song. So far they haven't had much luck though. Y/n seemed unable to decide what she wanted to write the song about. It was obvious it needed to be about Harry, but they've been together for three years and have gone through loads of moments both good and bad so how could she pick just one?
"I'll head out, promised Sarah I would pick up dinner on the way home." Mitch said, putting the guitar aside and rubbing his eyes. "Are you staying?"
"Yeah, just a little while. Harry's on a late meeting and I want to use the time." 
Mitch nodded, saying his goodbyes before grabbing his stuff. Once he left, Y/n let out a sigh. She didn't think writing a song would be so hard, and she couldn't understand why. She's written poems about Harry. About his eyes, his lips, his tattoos. Y/n had a million ideas yet she couldn't land a single one to make a coherent song. Even a verse. 
Now, she wasn't musically inclined. At least not in the way Harry or Mitch were. However, she knew her way around a piano as her grandfather was a music teacher and she would spend hours watching him play the piano at home. She knew how to play a couple of songs but has never created a melody from scratch. She let her fingers brush the keys, playing random notes until she found a couple that sounded good in her ears. 
"You're my, my, my, my... lover" Whispering the words, she repeated the melody over and over, letting it sink in. It was a good start though she wasn't sure what has just happened. 
She unlocked her phone, rushing to the notes app so she could type what she came up with. She also recorded the melody she played so she wouldn't forget. Y/n let her fingers type on her phone whatever she could think of, finally knowing what she wanted to write about. 
That night she left the studio with a smile on her face. Her present was finally starting to come along and she couldn't wait to see Mitch and show him what she had. She decided that instead of writing about just one moment with Harry, she would talk about their relationship as a whole. 
"I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all." Mitch read the lyrics on Y/n's phone. 
"Is it horrible?"
"No, this is really good, Y/n. What if we write the bridge as if they were wedding bows?" Mitch rushed to the piano, playing on sol major and mumbling random words. "I have had this idea for a while, it plays off of the walk down-ish." He started playing the instrument, trying to brainstorm some more ideas. Mitch's strength wasn't the piano, however, he played it very well. 
She sat next to Mitch. "I have no idea about the bridge yet but what if the chorus is something like, Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever?" Y/n sang softly, taking over the piano. "And ah, take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my lover." 
"Y/N..." Mitch started and she waited for him to tell her it was either too much or too simple. "You're a genius. I think this could be the whole chorus. Just simple, existential questions that you ask yourself when you're in love." Mitch wasn't a man of many words, but right now he seemed way too invested and way too excited to contain himself. "I think we might need a whole band to perform this song."
"I don't know... wouldn't it be too much?"
"In my opinion, this song would sound great with some drums. We could figure it out later but the band will be at your house for Harry's party, I'm sure they'd agree with no problem."
They kept bouncing ideas back and forth, trying real hard to paint an entire picture in the song. They were loving what they were creating but Y/n just hoped Harry would love it as much as she did. 
"We need to re-visit this lyric. I think We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til April doesn't sound right." Y/n pointed at her phone. "I think January is more fitting."
"But doesn't everyone leave their Christmas lights up till January?"
"Exactly! It's not about it being a crazy thing, it's about how mundane it is. Harry loves Christmas and never wants to take down the decorations, I think that's one of the first things I learned about him when we started dating." Normally Y/n would go shy while talking about Harry and how much she knew about him, but Mitch was a good listener and he's seen firsthand how much those two loved each other. 
Later that night Y/n was making dinner with Harry when she started humming the melody of the song. It was very soft, almost inaudible but Harry was next to her and his ears perk up at the sound of his girlfriend humming. Harry had only heard her sing a couple of times as she always got too shy around him, she'd squirm and say he was way better at it than her. So every time he got to hear her sweet voice he put his full attention on it.  Usually, it would be a song they both liked, one out of their joined playlist or sometimes, and Harry's ego loved every second of it, it would be one of his songs. However, tonight he couldn't recognize the melody she was humming.
"What song are you singing, m'heart?" He asked as he finished chopping the onions.
Y/n was doing it involuntarily, not realizing Harry was there and she wasn't alone. "Oh- Just a new one I heard on the radio." 
"Never heard it before." He said. "Sounds good, you should add it to our playlist. Do you know what's it called?"
It was then when she realized Mitch and her had been so wrapped into crafting the whole song that they'd forgotten to name the song. She was shit at naming things, never settling with one idea and changing it a million times. She did it at work, with playlists, even with pets she had as a child. 
Yet, the word rolled out of her lips effortlessly. "It's called Lover."
//
The song was ready. Mitch had to physically take Y/n's phone away to avoid her to keep changing more things, assuring her it was perfect as it was. They've managed to tell the band without Harry knowing. They were all touched and amazed with what Mitch and Y/n had come up with and quickly got on board with the whole thing. Adam got a pretty sick hook with the bass that pulled the whole song together and Sarah suggested a drumbeat to take it to the next level. 
Y/n has been in the studio with Harry before, she has watched as he and his team worked through an idea and turned it into a beautiful thing. She has seen the moment they've come up with a beat, a melody, a lyric that turned fundamental to the song but has never experienced it. Being part of it rather than witnessing it was magical in its own way. 
She had never been more excited for anything in her life, all she wanted to do was show the song to Harry and watch his reaction. She had practiced on the piano every single day so she could memorize the keys until they came out of her naturally and without really thinking about it. She also messaged Harry's usual vocal coach and asked him to help her through some exercises and ways to improve her voice a little so when she sings it to her boyfriend everything would be perfect. Y/n was beyond excited, beyond exhilarated. Harry's birthday couldn't come sooner. 
Despite being wrapped up in her present, Y/n didn't forget to plan Harry's birthday party. When asked, Harry said he wanted something low-key. Mitch, Sarah, Adam, Anne, Gemma, Jeffrey and his girlfriend, Glenne and Y/n's little brother, Matthew. She was sort of relieved of that, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sing in front of more than ten people unless she was drunk. 
She had asked Jeff for help to set everything up for when it was time to give Harry his present. Sure, at first he was confused as to why was she asking him to get a drum set in their living room without Harry noticing but quickly caught on. 
February 1st rolled in and Y/n made sure everything was perfect. From the moment Harry woke up she was there to spoil him. Usually, he was an early bird but this morning he had slept in, allowing Y/n to make him his favorite breakfast and put it in a tray to surprise him in bed. She also walked the short distance to a small bakery close to their house to get him a cupcake to stick a little candle in. The cake would be picked up by Gemma later for the party but she wanted to sing happy birthday to him first. 
"Darling?" Harry pushed himself on a sitting position, trying to rub the sleep off his eyes. "What's that?"
"Happy birthday, H." She said with a sweet tone, carefully placing the tray on his lap. She kissed him on his cheek then another one on his lips. Harry welcomed the feeling of her lips on his, loving that it was the first thing he felt in the morning. 
"Thank you, my love. This looks delicious." Harry motioned for her to join him, grabbing the fork and knife and insisting on feeding her from his breakfast. "What time did you get up to do all of this?"
"Well, it is almost eleven in the morning so I had plenty of time." She giggled. "Hang on, let me get the lighter for the candle." Harry could easily represent the heart eyes emoji as he was listening to the love of his life sing happy birthday to him. He thought it couldn't get any cuter but then she pulled out a birthday hat and put it on his head, clapping as he blew the candle. 
He didn't ask for anything. Everything he could ever want was right in front of him, sitting on their bed wearing nothing but one of his shirts and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen. 
"Can we stay in bed all day?" He said after putting the empty tray on the nightstand and pulling Y/n to his chest, sighing happily as he kissed the top of her head. 
"We can't, handsome. I have a whole thing planned for today and there's no way you'll attend to your party on sweatpants."
He groaned playfully, pulling her even closer to him when she tried to get up. "How long until they come?"
"A couple of hours." She said as she looked up at him, kissing his nose. Under other circumstances, she wouldn't say to stay in bed with Harry all day, however, she was so excited about her present that she knew she'd end up spilling everything if she didn't get to work soon. 
After some coaxing and a lot of kisses, Harry agreed to get up from the bed and went to take a shower. Y/n got down to the kitchen and took everything she had pre-cooked out of the fridge. She had planned a whole menu with different options for everybody, always the best host she was. 
Harry walked down the stairs and offered his help but Y/n quickly turned him down and sent him away, claiming today was all about him and he wouldn't lift a finger. 
"Baby, would you give me my present before they arrive?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around Y/n's waist. It was no secret Y/n's presents were his favorite thing in the world, and they had a tradition where he opened them when it was just the two of them, making it more intimate. 
"Not this time, no." Harry squeezed her waist.
"Can I have a peak?" 
"Nope." Harry didn't give up though, he tried to convince her by letting sweet, wet kisses on her neck and pressing himself against her. "You won't get your way, mister. I'll give you my present after you've opened everyone else's."
Harry groaned again but didn't press any further. He already knew he would love whatever she'd give him simply because he loved her. 
Everyone brought gifts for Harry, leaving them on a table Y/n has prepared outside for. It was a beautiful day and she wasn't going to waste it having the party inside, plus she needed everybody out so Jeff could prepare everything. She has never been more grateful for that stupid piano room Harry insisted on having. 
Y/n went around making sure all of their guests had drinks on their hands and a smile on their faces. Especially the birthday boy, who was feeling extremely clingy, making grabby hands at her every time she'd passed by him. 
"Hey, don't be nervous. Harry's gonna love it." Mitch reassured her, noticing how she started biting her lip, something she did when she was anxious. 
"I just hope it isn't too much. What if I just play it on the piano? I can cancel the drum set and put Harry's guitars back in his office."
"Don't be a pussy and serenade your man, Y/N." Mitch rolled his eyes. "Besides, Harry's a big softie. He'll love every single second of it. Stop worrying." 
"Everything was delicious, my dear. You're a great cook." Anne praised, making Y/n blush a little as everyone else at the table agreed with the older woman. Harry cooed at her and pinched her cheek, his heart fluttering at how adorable his girl was. 
"Thank you, guys. Who wants cake?" Y/n got up from her seat and hurried inside for the cake, eager to get to the part when Harry opened his presents. She returned with the cake and the candles lighted up, everyone started to sing for Harry.
The curly-haired man being his usual self, he basked in the love and attention he was getting, pulling Y/n on his lap once she reached him at the head of the table. He squeezed his waist as he nuzzled his nose on her shoulder, hiding his wide grin as he looked at his friends and family. In the end, everyone clapped as Harry blew the candles. He grabbed a little frosting with his finger and put it on Y/n's cheek, feeling extra playful as he then licked the same spot. 
He swore his day couldn't get any better as he started opening his presents with his girlfriend still on his lap, feeding him spoonfuls of cake. He was so happy he didn't notice when Jeff slipped inside to prepare the room for Y/n's gift, and he certainly missed the gazes his band and his girlfriend were sharing. 
"That was the last one." Gemma said after she passed him the last box wrapped in colorful paper. 
"Actually..." Y/n started, getting up from Harry's lap. "My gift is inside so let's go." She pulled from Harry's hand excitedly, guiding him and everyone else inside of their home. 
"What is it, baby?" Harry asked, matching Y/n's excitement mixed with the tiniest bit of amusement at the sight of her much smaller body dragging his through the house. 
As they entered the piano room even Y/n was surprised with how Jeff turned the space around, even placing a microphone on the piano for her. It truly looked like a mini-stage. Harry looked at her, confused but letting her guide him to his seat on one of the sofas, his confusion only growing as each of his friends went and grabbed an instrument. 
Y/n walked the short distance towards the piano and rubbed her palms against the fabric of her dress and the rest of the group took a seat on the couches, Anne taking the empty seat next to Harry. 
She let out a breathy laugh as she placed her hands on the keys, she knew that at this point it was obvious that she was going to sing him a song but felt the need to explain the whole thing. 
"So... A couple of months ago I started planning Harry's birthday gift, trying to come up with the perfect one, as usual." Everyone chuckled. "But what could you possibly give this man that he doesn't already have?"
"That's why I give him socks. To humble him a little." Gemma joked, taking out her phone to record the entire moment.
"After I had no luck on my own, I called Mitch for help. Now, he doesn't talk much but he suggested what I thought was the most absurd idea." She smiled at her friend before starting to play the melody of the song softly. "Why don't you write him a song? He said. I don't know about you but I've never written anything like that before, but I agreed to try it out. Then he just kept suggesting crazy things. Why don't you sing the song? Anyone who knows me knows I wouldn't even dare to sing on karaoke nights. The only place you'd catch me singing would be the shower so how in the world would I pull this off." She paused. "But here we are."
The group cheered and Y/n's eyes found Harry's, whose knee was bouncing with excitement as he looked like he was about to fall off his seat with how close to the edge he was. His eyes held nothing but pure adoration and pride, and she could swear she saw some tears gathering at the corner of his emerald eyes. 
"I really wanted it, the song, to sound like a song people who are in love would want to dance to. Like, slow dance to." She continued. "What I pictured was two people 3 am, swaying in the kitchen thinking about nothing else than the person in front of them. Luckily, my co-writer here helped me land that idea." Y/n praised Mitch once again as she felt like he deserved just as much credit if not more than her. "I've always loved the word 'lover' yet I've never called anyone that. But we all know that you're not anyone." She said directly to Harry. "So, I said what better occasion to use it than this? This is "Lover" She finished her little speech, positioning her fingers on the right keys of the piano to start the song. 
As the song began, Y/n locked eyes with Harry once again. She didn't want to miss his reaction but she also did it because there was nothing that calmed her nerves more than looking at him. And Harry? Well, Harry was already a mess. He allowed some tears to spill from his eyes as he couldn't believe what was happening. 
His girl, his little love has written a song just for him. He knew he was a lucky man but as she started singing he couldn't help but reminisce their moments together. He paid attention to every single word she was singing, feeling his heart grow twice its size at how much adoration he was feeling for her right now. 
As the chorus came, Harry completely understood what she wanted to say as he felt it himself very early on in their relationship. 
They were just seeing each other, Y/n wasn't even his girlfriend yet but Harry acted like she was. He couldn't help but follow her around like a lost puppy, taking every opportunity to spend time with her. It didn't matter what they were doing or where they going, he just wanted to be with her. 
"What are you doing today, love?" He had asked over the phone. He wanted to see her but didn't want to come off too clingy as they saw each other the day before.
"I need to go to Ikea to pick up a new rug. I might've fucked mine up after trying to wash it." 
"Can I go?" He didn't think twice. 
"I'm afraid I'll scare you away after you find out how picky I am even to pick a rug." She joked. 
"I'll be fun. Besides, I need some things for my house too." Lie. He didn't need anything, he just wanted to see her. 
"Okay, pick me up in an hour." 
Harry was awfully punctual and a part of him couldn't believe how fucking excited he was over going to Ikea. If his mates saw him they'd make fun of how whipped he already was. Somehow he wouldn't mind. 
He let her drag him around the store, trying to find the rugs yet getting distracted every two seconds. He found the woman in front of him unbelievably adorable, not minding for even a second at how excited she'd get over a pillow she saw or how she took over twenty minutes looking closely at each rug before picking the first one she had seen. 
"I have my rug, now I can help you with what you needed for your house." She smiled sweetly at him. 
Harry blushed but tried to cover it with a cough. "W-well, I needed... plates?"
Two hours after, Harry walked out of the store with a set of baby blue plates, two fake plants, and a small coffee table he did not need. He didn't know it then, but he'd continue to follow Y/n around everywhere, basking on every moment they got to spend together and losing the fear to ask if he could go anywhere she needed to go. 
"And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you," She sang with a little bit of attitude and Harry knew exactly what moment she was talking about. 
Harry had surprised her by taking her to her favorite restaurant for dinner. It wasn't a special date or an anniversary, he just wanted to treat his girl to a nice meal, a bouquet he had picked up on the way home and enjoy each other's company. 
"Hi, I'm Lucy and I'll be serving you tonight." A young, blonde woman appeared at their table. "Have you decided yet?" Now, Y/n wasn't a jealous person, at least not to the point where she couldn't stand another female close to her boyfriend, but she could swear Lucy kept only looking at Harry while talking, moving her body slightly so she would be mostly facing him. 
"Not yet, but if you could bring us a bottle of wine it would be great."
"Sure, red or white?"
"Baby?" Harry asked even though he already knew what she wanted. He just knew her too well.
"Red, please." 
Lucy left and they continued their conversation, however, Y/n now had a little voice at the back of her head telling her to pay close attention to the cute waitress who seemed to have the collar of her shirt a little lower every time she came back to their table, which was more often than usual. 
"Would you like more bread?" Lucy asked directly to Harry, this was the third time she's come back with them in less than fifteen minutes. 
"No, thank you. I think we're fine for now." Y/n truly didn't want to come off as rude, but she hasn't been able to have a proper conversation with Harry because the waitress kept interrupting them. Y/n noticed how Lucy was annoyed by her, but she was even more annoyed at the blonde so she didn't care.
"You know you're cute when you're jealous." It was the first thing Harry said after the blonde left. Like it was stated before, Y/n wasn't a jealous person, and Harry loved each time she got possessive over him. Of course he had noticed the looks Lucy was sending him, how her questions would be only directed to him and how she would magically appear every time they were having an intimate moment. But Harry was too nice to say something, and he knew his girlfriend knew he only had eyes for her.  
"Shut up, I'm annoyed." She pouted but in reality, she wasn't really upset. She couldn't. Not when she knew Harry hadn't looked at Lucy even once. "I'm sorry I was like that, I just don't like when people hit on you."
"Hey, I'm not mad. If you want we could go to the bathroom and you could give me some hickeys, you know, to assert dominance." 
"Do not get too excited, I'm not getting kicked out of another restaurant for doing that."
"I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all" Harry smiled. He too wanted them all. He was sure he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with anyone but her. She was it for him and he was it for her. He already knew that but it still made him all soft hearing her say that. 
Harry's eyes were focused on her yet he could feel Anne's hand on his knee, her too feeling emotional. He could also feel Gemma's phone pointing at him to catch his reaction, he just hoped someone was recording Y/n sing. He was sure he would be watching that video over and over again until his eyes burned at how much he was looking at his phone. 
He couldn't think he could get even more emotional, then the bridge came and that's when he fully cried. Were these... wedding bows? They couldn't. But they sounded like wedding bows to him. "I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover" Harry sniffed, feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way. "And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me"
"Ew!" Gemma exclaimed, clearly joking around as the wide grin on her face gave her away. 
"And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover"
An unspoken agreement they had since very early on in their relationship was that they would always sit next to each other. Dinners at Anne's, out with friends, industry events Harry took Y/n to. People always joked about how they seemed to be sewed to each other's hip but they didn't care. 
It was true they spent a lot of time together, but there were also times when one of them wasn't able to attend a dinner or a party, and the other would sit alone. 
The joke started after Y/n had a work trip and Anne invited Harry for a Sunday roast with their family. Gemma had sent Y/n a picture of her little brother sitting at the table full of people yet the seat next to him was empty. 
"He grabbed the chair and didn't let anyone sit on it! Said it was reserved for Y/n."
It was true and he had no shame in admitting it. 
Harry tried to wipe his tears but it was no use because a new one would quickly form in his eyes. No one has ever written a love song for him, a song about how much he meant to the person or about how that person loved him. Never in his life has he felt more special and it was all because of Y/n. She took the past three years of their lives and summarized them on an incredibly emotional, most amazing love letter he has ever received. 
He knew he said it every time Y/n gave him something, but this... this truly was the best gift someone has ever given him. 
"Darling, you're my, my, my, my... lover" 
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erodasfishtacos · 3 months ago
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ST. PAUL
Please like, comment, recommend, reblog, and come talk to me if you enjoyed the piece.
I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a two days) 😌
warnings: smut, daddy kink, 18+
Harry loves being the center of attention.
It’s really no surprise at this point that he enjoys when tens of thousands of people are watching him perform.
He also secretly loves that people love his wife as well. He swore sometimes he thinks his wife is more popular than him during tour.
YN was didn’t come out from backstage to stand and watch the show right away like she usually did - she was working through some merch issues with Jeff.
Harry noticed that the fans were continuously looking back to where his wife would usually stand for the show.
Between one of the sets, Harry goes about ready some of the posters that fans have brought and he huffs out a faux affronted remark as he reads one out loud.
“I’m only here for your hot wife.”
He jokingly glares at the fan as the crowds laughs, “M’gonna have t’have a talk with security about these posters! Y’hitting on m’wife in front me! She’s not even out here, tough luck mate.”
Then he shimmies away as another song comes on.
A few minutes later, a sign pops up that says, “I want to taste YN’s watermelon sugar.”
Harry gives the person holding the sign a look of disbelief and shakes his head in disapproval at the poster before turning away.
“Should I text him?”
Harry reads from a fan’s board, he holds up his left hand and wriggles his ring finger that is donned in his wedding band, “Y’asking the wrong person, love. I’ve been locked down f’eleven years, don’t know much about the new age of dating!”
He goes on to say, “My only advice is if he’s playing games - don’t do it. Trash, trash, trash. Not for you.”
When YN finally arrives to her usual spot, everyone tries to get a glimpse from where they’re at. It was a thing, everyone wants to not only get a glimpse of Harry Styles’ wife but also her outfit.
There were hundreds of instagram accounts now dedicated to their matching tour outfits.
The short dress she was wearing was made of the same material and color as his shirt *** and she looked stunning as always.
The singer notices all of the attention dart to the side of the arena, where he also spots his beautiful wife smiling with Glenne as they go to their usual spot.
When She ends, Harry walks down the catwalk with a exaggerated pout on his face, giving his wife a pointed look, “I just want to remind everyone, this show’s about me! I’m quite the narcissist so I know m’wife is gorgeous but we’re here f’me!”
The crowd erupts in laughter and playful ‘boos’ as a dimply smile spreads on his face as he adjust his in-ears.
YN bites the inside of her lip, holding back her own giggles at her husband’s boyish antics before she joins along in the boos.
“Alright, alright, no booing me now,” Harry titters like the comedian he is, “Just remindin’ y’who this is all about. Me! But let’s give a round of applause to m’wife who deals with the narcissism on a daily basis!”
The arena does so, thousands of fans capturing their interaction on their phones for people to coo over later.
YN rolls her eyes, laughing at some Glenne says before and then Harry is starting his next song with a few glances over to her until they meet eyes and he blows her a kiss which she returns.
And then a poster pops up in the pit that Harry knows he has to snag - gets a brilliant idea so he asks the fan to pass it forward.
He props his mic back into its stand before turning the poster around and showing it to his wife on the side.
“Show us your tits, respectfully.”
YN flips him off with a giggle before teasing at the collar of her dress which makes Harry’s jaw drop dramatically and he gives her a surprised look before shaking his head. ***
“Don’t y’dare flash the goods! I’m just jokin’ around, this is a family show….” He pauses before prompting the crowd, “Or is it?”
As he performs Lights Up, YN steps forward to the barricade to call over one of the fan who is awestruck as she stumbles over to YN.
“Could I borrow your sign?” YN asks the fan - who was dressed in a sequined suit that looked amazing and she had to compliment her on that too.
“Uh…yeah. He-here,” The girl stutters nervously, passing over the posterboard with shaky hands at meeting YN.
She was sooooo pretty up close, smelled like chanel number five, and smiled warmly enough to make the fan feel comfort.
“Thanks, I’ll give it right back,” YN assures her, stepping back over to Glenne, they giggle together before YN holds it over her head.
“Choke Me Daddy.”
Harry spots it in a mere minute, reading it over and unable to hide the moody, dark expression that flashes across his face before he covers it up by looking elsewhere.
Just the reaction she wanted.
Harry stay away from that side of the stage for a little, YN knows it’s to prevent a very public boner from her behavior.
YN hands it back, agrees to take a few pictures with the girl and her friends before they go back to enjoy the concert.
-
The girl who lent her the sign goes on to make tiktoks about the meeting.
“She was super nice and giggly.”
“She let us take a ton of selfies.”
“When she held it up, Harry like instantly got pissed or turned on or something because he gave her this look and it was intense.”
“Harry was staring at her like the whole concert after she held up that sign.”
“It seemed like YN was purposefully ignoring his signals to make him even more annoyed.”
“Her ring was so pretty.”
“I couldn’t tell who was more attractive, Harry or YN, I think they’re literally the hottest couple alive.”
-
When the concert ends, Harry bolts off stage - waving and blowing kisses to his adoring fans before disappearing into the back.
YN is waiting patiently by the entry, where she usually was, her stomach was tight and bracing for her husband’s reaction.
She wanted to play.
They both knew it.
Hell, the whole arena had known she wanted it.
And to her absolute disappointment, Harry arrives back stage and pulls her into a tight hug. He pulls back gently to kiss her with his large palm cupping her face.
“Hi baby, m’exhuasted. I’ll shower at the hotel,” Harry rasps, peppering a few more soft kisses before intertwining their fingers.
YN has to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Harry coming back stage, shoving her into his dressing room, and giving it to her hard for the sign she held up.
Nope, during the ride to the hotel, he was cuddly and like a puppy - whining until YN massaged his neck and allowed him to lay his head in her lap.
He doesn’t bring up the sign, just relaxes quietly until they get to the hotel and then just grabs her hand to lead her to their room.
YN tries to settle down the itchy arousal in her belly when Harry goes to shower.
She changes out of her dress into one of Harry’s shirts and goes about folding and organizing both of their suitcases.
After the shower stops, YN hears Harry moves around for a moment until he’s opening the bathroom door.
“Do you want to order room service? I’m star-“
She’s cut off when her husband’s hand reaches down and intertwines into her hair - gentle by firmly pulling her to stand by it and tugging her back into his hard chest.
“Harr-“
“I don’t think so, baby. I think s’daddy, yeah?” Harry hisses against the shell of her ear, “Do y’think I’d forget about y’holding up a sign that said choke me daddy?”
It’s easy for her to slip in a fuzzier, submissive state because she knows her husband will keep her safe and always take care of her.
“You showed that sign fir-“ YN begins to argue back but Harry pulls at her hair to silence her.
“Y’want t’argue or do you want t’be a good girl f’daddy?” Harry asks lowly, his voice threaten and void of any of his normal warmth, “I think ten is a good number, hm? Ten t’your arse?”
“But-“ YN loved to push him, she wanted those ten but she also liked to rile Harry up which was even better when he was adrenaline high from a show.
“Say ‘yes daddy’ or I’ll add five,” He warns, his voice had a delicious rasp from singing and he wraps his hand into her thong and rips it - making her yelp as the elastic snaps against her skin.
YN’s heart is pounding out of her chest, usually she was the one who took Harry by surprise - not the other way around.
Her skin was aching already from the brush burn of the fabric being torn from her sensitive skin, scalp pulsing from the tension on her hair.
“You were so obvious on stage, H. Once I held up that sign, your face gave everything away - that you’re so easy f’me - it’s embarrassing. I’ve been locked down for eleven years,” She imitates his accent in a bratty bite.
Harry snaps, nearly picking her up as he manhandles her over to the large hotel bed and she finds herself on her belly with Harry landing a hard slap to her right cheek.
“Y’think you’re s’fuckin’ cute? Don’t act like it doesn’t get y’soaked seeing all those fans cry f’me and I come home t’you,” He chuckles meanly, “And y’want to call me desperate? Look in the mirror, love.”
YN wriggles a bit but doesn’t have much time before the second and third hit with his rings still on - making it hurt even more.
“Count f’me, sweetheart,” Harry hums, thumbing open her cheeks to lean down and teasing lick her tighter entrance before letting go to land the fourth one.
“F-four,” She chokes out, feeling herself drip onto the sheets and her nipples tighten against the cotton fabric of the shirt she still has on.
“Four what.”
The air in the room is thick, humid as she mumbles against the pillows, “Four daddy.”
“Louder.”
“Four, s’four daddy,” YN moans, tacking on the fifth to her words when he lands on her left cheek and she can tell how sore she’ll be in the morning already.
“Gonna give me fifteen, baby? Or are y’done?” His voice is cautious, checking in to see where she’s at - if they add five more that means she really wants to play. If he stops at five, they both know that means she only wanted to be roughed up a little bit for the night.
“More, please.” YN gasps, shaking her bum in his face before it’s caught with the hardest hit yet and she yelps in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
After they reach fifteen, Harry is flipping her on her back and tugging her shirt off until her breasts spill out and he tugs roughly at a nipple.
“Daddy, please, please,” She whines, her thighs were damp and she was absolutely pulsating for his touch on her.
“I think I deserve an apology f’your behavior tonight,” He whispers against her puffy lips, his cock slipping against her mound lazily, “Desperate f’me even in front of tens of thousands of people. It’s quite cute, darling.”
“Fuck me, fuck me,” YN presses her lips to his eagerly, moaning when he slips between her folds and his tip bumps against her clit.
“Y’have no fuckin’ manners, pet. I think I’ve spoiled y’too much,” Harry admonishes with faux disappoint, pulling back until their centers aren’t touching and landing a smack to her mound.
Then he’s reaching down to thumb at her bud with a relentless pleasure but as soon as she starts to lift her hips into the feeling - he pulls away and tucks two fingers up inside her - repeats that quite a few times.
She felt like she was on fire, she needed him so badly that she wasn’t able to take much more of the teasing.
They usually played for longer, hours sometimes but on tour - it was hard to, both of them bone-tired and knowing they have to get up early and do it again tomorrow.
Harry knows his wife like the back of his hand, knows when she needs more and when she’s hit her limit for the night.
When he sees hot, fat tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, lips full and swollen, and she’s mewling, “Daddy.”
He knows she’s nearly at her limit, he slips inside her with no resistance and has to push for a moment because it feels that euphoric.
“Baby, fuck. Always feel s’fuckin’ good. This body was made f’me, yeah? S’addicitng, s’warm and tight,” Harry praises his wife, kissing her before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth.
“S’for you, all of it. Ha-Daddy, I’m so close already, do it - c’mon,” She begs, legs wrapping around his narrow waist and pressing her heels into his bum.
They both know what she wants but he wants to hear her say it.
“C’mon, tell me. Say it and I’ll give it t’you,” He rumbles as he thrusts in with loud, smacking noises echoing through the room.
She blinks up at him with twinkling doe eyes, a small smirk on the side of her lips, as she says in a kittenish voice, “Choke me, daddy.”
And like that, his hand is collaring her throat and lightly pressing down until her breathe catches in her throat.
“Come f’me, m’desperate lil’ thing. All those people with those nasty signs and all I can think about it y’perfect cunt,” He murmurs in her ears, pressing just a bit more and then just like clockwork - she tenses and begins to come and he lightens his grip and releases when he follows soon after her.
-
👀👀👀👀👀
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chaashni · 10 days ago
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Deals
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A forgotten deal leads you into a hell lot of trouble, of the good kind ofcourse.
A/n: Here’s me being back to my regular BS, funded by a very filthy ask(thanks nonnie!). I’m a little late at delivering, but I’m very excited about how this turned out to be. Have fun bitches!!!
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut. Smut. Smut. Filthy bets. College student stuff. Failing a test? A punishment everybody would want cause frat boy Harry’s the one dishing it out. Smoking. Spanking. Impact play. Some tears. Overstimulation. Degraation. Harry’s condescending baritone. Face slapping. Toys. Denial. Edging. Humiliation. What else man, this is rough.
Fic library is @chaashnifics
"Let's make a deal then" faint traces of smoke blew out from Harry's lips, dusting your face softly as the stench intoxicated you even futher. Your hands clung to his shoulders, his arms resting on your hips and keeping you tethered to his body. Your drunken self didn't have much coordination, almost entirely resting your weight on him, your fingers itching towards the bandana wrapped around his forehead as you puckered up your lips, asking for a kiss.
"We're not having any deals. C'mon, let's take you home." Harry relented, dropping his lips over yours and smooching some of your lip gloss off, the cigarette in his breath making you drowsier. You pushed him away suddenly, swaying before settling yourself and squaring your back in an attempt to reach in level with your lanky boyfriend's eyes, pouting and kicking at a stone when you realized you couldn't.
"We're having a deal. You're a chicken." You screeched sloppily, not paying any heed to the fact that you were super close to your dorm building and the wardens could come and shout at you any second. You were too drunk and your boyfriend too damn cocky for his own good.
Harry chuckled, pushing his hands into his pockets and leaning into your space as you blinked and tried to recoordinate yourself, the sudden sweep with which he crowded your personal space leaving you a little intimidated. It didn't help that the dim lights around seemed to converge into the crystal pools that were his eyes and -fuck- you must be too damn drunk if you were thinking of that.
The hand resting on your shoulder traveled across your collarbones, sliding your tresses back and cuffing around your nape, his grip firm and grounding. Your squirming stopped, a faint cloud of lust beginning to coagulate in your eyes and in the pits of your stomach, your sweaty fingers suddenly itching to slide down your boyfriend's v-line. Were you supposed to be striking a deal moments back? You couldn't care less.
Apparently, Harry was interested now. Still cupping your neck, he drew you closer to his face, his thumb moving up to your lips and ghosting over its curve, resting on your cupid's bow. Slow as he could, he slid the pad of it down, the tip of his smoke dusted finger dipping into your mouth before he pulled your lower lip down, breathing out some smoke directly into your mouth. 
"How much have you studied for tomorrow's test, huh?" He questions, an eyebrow raising up as he leans closer, the ends of his curls tickling the sides of your face. You blinked, a little confused, before your eyes light up.
"A lot-" you stated confidently. "Syllabus wise at least. I had these chapters under my belt from the start." You didn't know why you felt the need to add that, but Harry chuckled, almost scorningly, and your eyebrows crumbled in confusion, pushing at his chest.
"What?" You pouted, your words loud enough to make you wince. Harry remained unbothered, too used to your drunken antics to act surprised.
"Practice, baby. Have you practiced?"
You blinked, stepping back defensively. "I don't need to. I'm smart enough."
Harry chuckled, bringing another cigarette to his mouth and tucking it between his lips. He signalled to your pockets, a silent demand for you to pull out the lighter he had handed you. You rolled your eyes and clicked it open, lighting the roll for him. "Getting cocky isn't gonna get you anywhere." You chided, shuffling the lighter in your hands.
Your boyfriend just watched you with a piercing stare, each second igniting you a little more. Harry took a deep drag, pulling out the cigarette, his smoke laced words whispered right over your face. "And being a smartass isn't getting you the scores."
"Wanna bet?"
"Ofcourse."
"You know I've been preparing this for longer than you " You cocked an eyebrow at your suddenly dismissive boyfriend, like he was a too sure he would win this easily. It unnerved you a little but you weren't phased. Could he win? In his dreams.
"Alright. We'll see how much you score after all this partying." He slung an arm around your waist, sweeping you over in the direction of the dorms.
"Wait wait wait." You staggered to a stop, pulling Harry to a sudden halt with you. You stumbled for a second, your boyfriend flipping you both around so his shoulder hit the compound wall instead of yours.
"Careful woman," he huffed, blowing out some smoke as he flexed his arm. "What happened now?"
"What do I get when I win?"
The exasperated crease melted to a conniving smirk. His hand wrapped around your throat, flipping you around again and backing you up against the wall by your neck, a wicked smirk on his face. "You get to use me. All you want."
And just like that, you were mirroring his smile.
"But if I win," he placed the cigarette between your lips, his thumb digging into your chin as you took in a controlled puff, your pussy wet and needy. "I get to do whatever I want with ya."
It was all too easy for you to agree. What would he do, tie you with his bandana? Pull you into one of the classrooms and bend you over a teacher's desk? Fuck you with his fingers when you were in a frat party? Been there. Done that. And you were certain you would win, so you did not bother much. You were too busy ripping off his jacket and tee, unzipping the chain of his tight pants as you both stumbled up the stairs, your bra pulled out from under your shirt, your body already marked with his bruises.
You should have probably thought the bet through. 
Ofcourse, being a smartass isn't always enough. Being a oversmart-ass and striking a bet on something as unpredictable as exam scores wasn't your brightest moment, but now it was done.
You were fucked.
You rubbed a drop of sweat lining over your brow- you needed to relax- this was a class test, these scores do not affect your credit scores. You huffed, shutting your laptop and glaring at the desk like it had done something seriously wrong to you. You dared not look at your boyfriend, who had been sitting by your side all through this while, his score clearly more than yours.
Talk about being fucked.
Having exhausted your stock of mental pep talk, you had shamefully turned to your boyfriend, a pout etched in your lips and a frown cemented in your eyes, ready to acknowledge that- fuck- you should be partying a little less and focusing a lot more on your classes.
Harry's hands stopped you before you got a word out, strong hands wrapping flush around your waist and pulling you snug to his torso, the droning voice of your professor be damned. You pressed your fingertips onto the fluffy material of his sweater, burrowing your neck into his chest as he cradled you delicately, no signs of mockery or contempt anywhere in his body language. He muttered some sweet nothings into your ear all through the class, promising you this wouldn't affect your credits and that you would be doing better soon. After class he brought you a big tub of ice cream sundae, and he even let you steal his bandana, smiling that sweet dopey smile when you littered kisses all over his face and chin, holding him like he grounded you.
He definitely did. You sometimes wondered what you would do without Harry. In your current predicament, you would probably be sitting in your dorm room, your face pressed to your pillow, your frustrated screams diffused into the fluffy material of your blankets, your tears dripping all over. Maybe you would turn into the sinister cat lady with a wine addiction and body traps littered all over your garden ten years earlier than normal, if you didn't have your sweet sweet boyfriend. Snorting, you decided you would cook him some nice pasta as a thank you for saving you from that, his apartment building just in sight.
It was still some minutes to five thirty, the time he had called you over so you both could study and just hang, and you were proud of yourself for making it in time- oh, even better- earlier than usual. So you skipped up the steps, cheerfully greeting the cranky middle aged dilf who was smoking a joint in the gallery, determined to fix this grand mess you had made out of your academics.
You had totally forgotten about that damned bet you had made under the expense of drunk bravery. Because you were an idiot, who lived a little too much in the moment. The whole premise of 'you can do whatever you want to do to me' had completely slipped your mind till you found your boyfriend sitting on the soft, tattooed arms crossed behind his head and legs propped on the table -it had endured more than enough of the two of you already- cigarette in hand, the annoying smug look all over his face.
That's when you knew this wouldn't be one of your regular 'study sessions'.
Cause however kinky and risque you might be, you cannot classify being bent over someone's lap, naked and reciting answers with a stinging ass while being casually degraded as 'normal'.
Clearly, when you had stepped in, you should have known. Harry didn't look like he was in the mood to fuck around, and as determined as you felt, you were also under this cocoon of love and warmth he had showered you with all through the afternoon.
So the first command of "strip" had you blinking, confused almost. Harry watery smile, the bluish trail of that vein down his tattooed hands, that pulled you out of the momentary 'dumb-drop' you had descended into, your mind rolling back to that night, your smug words and that bet ringing fresh. Harry's sultry words rang in your ears and you, much to your own chagarin, followed his command just the next instant, his sweetened accent housing the sultriness that had you tremble, knowing he would use you plenty tonight.
"Don't make Daddy repeat himself, baby girl. Strip. Do it slow. Daddy wants to be nice and hard when you're bent over his lap."
And here you were. All your clothes folded and kept in Harry's bedroom- the little freak wouldn't let you kick them aside, so while you were all naked and throbbing between your thighs in anticipation, you had to fold them up and walk over to the other side of the apartment, to place it on his bed.
"Would be easier for you to find 'em, babygirl."
Fuck him.
"Now for the rules of tonight," he started, large hands running down the curve of your back, slowly feeling up your ass as you adjusted your position, your hands pressed to the cold floor as Harry remained perched at the edge of the couch. "We'd be going through the paper- every single question." His hands cupped your jaw, thumb caressing your lower lip, smearing your saliva all over your mouth when you attempted to suck on it. "You attended the discussion didn't ya? Let's see how much attention you pay that day."
Fuck. Does he really expect you to remember that?
Definitely not. Which is why you were here in the first place.
"If you get it right, babygirl," your boyfriend continued, hand sliding between the crack of your ass and hovering right over your weepy cunt, a long finger diving through your folds as you closed your eyes and moaned, "you get rewarded."
The darkening of his voice got a chill jolt down your spine, your nerves flaring. "And if you get 'em wrong," the hand landing on your pussy shouldn't have shocked you so much but you grunted out in disbelief, staggering forward only to be held in place by his arms. "You get punished."
And that’s where it all began. Hands which caressed your cunt and backside as he read out the questions from his laptop, your inability to answer getting you harsh smacks on your backside, each mistake costing you five spanks and a ton of degradation, each tut leaving you squirming for more."
"Question 3, wasn't it the easiest in the whole paper?" His hand lands on the curve where your ass meets your thigh, sending you forward before its pair laced around your throat, tilting your head up so he could look into your teary eyes, his smug face and condescending glare leaving you whimpering.
"What is it that you know here, baby?" He squeezed the sides of your neck, hand landing on your ass again. "What do you say now?"
"Uggh," you whimpered, heaving before mumbling out, "sorry daddy. I don't know."
"You don't?" He narrowed his eyes, fake sympathy bleeding through his words as his hand landed on the same ass cheek twice, the other going to knead your breasts before taking its place back around your throat, the tips of his fingers pressing to the underside of your jaw. "That makes you such a bad little girl," he murmurs, brushing his lips tenderly on the side of your head as he landed the remaining two spanks for this particular question, grabbing that cheek harshly till you rolled out the words he had instructed you to repeat after each five spanks.
"Thank you for punishing me, daddy. Would- fuck-" he probed your hole a little, leaving you cursing him out and clenching around nothing the very next second. "Make sure to prepare the next time."
That dark chuckle had you trembling right at the edge, a burning backside and bruised throat only aggravating your horniess as you tried to rub against his thigh, his ring covered hands trailing all over your skin, mapping you, tracing every dip and crevice, every stretch mark and line. He grabbed your hair, twirling it around his fist and pulling a silent command for you to pucker up your lips, blowing smoke right into your mouth and kissing you deeply right after.
He pulled you up, scooping you in his arms and kissing you softly, caressing your breasts and neck before he grabbed them harshly again, the softness diffusing from his tone to a more ardent, serious one. 
"You see that mirror there, baby girl?" He pointed it out for you, pinching and twisting your nipple while his lips ran over your, words slowly whispered into the shell of it like you were some dumb baby who needed everything explained in details. "You'll go over there, spread your legs and wait for daddy. Is that okay, babygirl?"
"Are you fucking insane?" You actually whined out, shaking your head in a no. Your ass was on fire, how could he expect you to sit that way?
His eyes darkened, the hold on your nipple loosening before he was pulling away, face schooled into a frustrating neutral. What? Wouldn't he do something? Or would he leave you high and dry for the rest of the evening, just ask you to-
The hand crashing against your cheek got your face snapped to the side, a burning sting forming there and flowing all the way down your neck, one of Harry's hands around your throat, the other buried in your hair, his furious eyes burning right into yours. "What did you just say, babygirl?" His words holding so much condescension and meanness he had you trembling and your pussy dripping out right on his thigh.
"Sorry daddy- fuck-" you whimpered, grinding on his pants, your breathing low. "Didn't mean that."
"Oh really?" He mocked, pressing his fingers into your jugular, angry red lips biting over your earlobe.
"Didn't. Sorry," 
"But you meant to get wet- drip all over m' thigh like a drooly lil' kitten, didn't ya?" The hold on your hair tightened, pulling you backwards, your eyes snapping open. "Didn't ya?" Harry seethed, jaw clenched, eyes full of darkened lust as he watched you get off on his thigh.
"Yeah I did," you moaned, throwing your head back, rocking your hips and taking all the friction you could, his thighs soaked and your legs quivering as his lips danced all over your neck, sucking those bruising marks.
"What's your colour?" This was Harry. The timbre of his voice changed, care and caution dripped into his velvety words as you humped his leg, so so close to what you needed from the moment he had asked you to strip and give him a show.
"Green. Fucking green." You sobbed out, arching your back as you almost tipped over the edge, and the next instant you were being picked up and pinned to the couch, your annoyed yelp falling on deaf ears as you faced Harry's shit eating smirk.
"Then be a good girl and go sit your ass in front of th’ mirror." He caressed your face that he had slapped, pushing a thumb into your mouth before you could let out the curses dancing on the tip of your tongue, absolutely furious for your robbed orgasm.
And that's how you got in here, in front of the mirror, Harry's bandana wrapped around your wrists, which he had twisted behind your back, your breasts thrust out and thighs spread open, ass burning and pussy dripping.
The worst part was you could see just how horny and needy you were, and so could Harry, who was sitting on the couch right behind you and completing his fucking assignment- what an idiot?
Curse you for being so needy and enamored by this fucking moron.
He finished fairly quickly though- something told you he didn't even have anything to do in there, he just wanted you to remain frustrated and needy, and drip down on the floor for him. Harry walked over to you, eyes on your reflection, his hands rising and clamping over your shoulder, sliding down your bound hands to your waistline, curling over your stomach and descending down to your pussy. He cupped it torturously slow, his fingers just grazing your dripping folds, scooping up some of your slick on his palm. 
The palm, which came back up embarrassingly wet with your juices, was then held right below your face, Harry's silent command ringing in your ears. Face heated up and pussy gushing, you pressed the flat of your tongue on his palm, lapping up your own juices and licking it clean.
"Good girl," he kissed your neck, cupping your boobs from behind, traces of his fingers branded on your skin as he began kneading and pinching again, tipping you backwards so your raw cunt was raised from the ground, even more visible and humiliating. "Isn't that difficult to learn, isn't it baby?"
You moaned, throwing your head back over his shoulder. The tell tale hum of your vibrator, the one which you had left at his place the last time you were here, had you snapping your eyes back open, gasping as he rolled it over your nipples. Fuck.
"Been a really good girl today," Harry bit your shoulder, tracing a circle over the area close to your nipple, leaving you squirming in his hold. "Daddy's impressed"
You moaned, jutting your hips out, doing whatever to have him give you attention you needed, where you needed it most.
"I know, I know, baby." The vibrator buzzed its way down your torso, hovering torturously close to your clit when he smacked your inner thigh. "On your knees, babygirl."
Harry really, really was gonna toy with you all night long. Almost breaking into frustrated tears, you got into the position he wanted you in, looking at him imploringly, hoping he takes mercy on you and gives you what you want.
Which he did. The vibrator skimming through your folds at its highest setting had you barrelling forward, Harry's hold on the bandana wrapped around your wrists keeping you steady as you shrieked in pleasure, clamouring down on the toy and clenching, your juices lubricating you enough to take the toy in without any hesitation. Your boyfriend teased you nipples as he thrust the vibrator inside you, its tip circling around your clit menacingly before he was plunging it inside again, your moans breaking into incoherent mixtures of "harder" and "right there", the pleasure building up to a high you had been chasing all through the night, through the strenuous foreplay and Harry's skilled fingers. With a scream you came all over, dripping all over Harry's palm and the toy as you slumped against him, heaving heavily.
"Nah nah nah," Harry's hands patted your face, lightly rousing you when you were close to drifting off. "You still got those six other answers you need to be rewarded for."
You looked on, confused, gasping when you felt his erection press all the way up your back when he stood up, the boner he was sporting tight against his pants as he turned you around, your hands still bound behind your back, your thighs still quivering, your head a little mussed up.
"First you're gonna help daddy out." He caressed your face, hand slowly wrapping around your throat and guiding you to his pants. 
"Then I'm gonna do whatever I want with you. We only got started."
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finerllines · 27 days ago
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hard times [dad!au]
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a/n: i need everyone to ignore the title because it is impossible to think of titles and i didnt want to have boner in the title lol (also thank you to everyone who has read and reblogged by other stuff!!)
summary: harry can't help but be in love with his wife
wc: 1.5k+
tw: just some dad fluff but boners are mentioned like twice
///
Everyone knew that Harry was obsessed with his wife. The only thing that surpassed his love for his wife was his love for his wife as a mum and his little twins.
When his twins were born about a year ago, he thought his heart was going to explode. Hearing his little boy and girl cry for the first time made him fall to his knees gasping for air, unable to stop tears from streaming down his face. He had anticipated the day for years, daydreaming about holding his children for the first time and marvelling at their beauty, but when the moment arrived, he was so overwhelmed with joy that all he could do was sob.
His family occupied his whole heart, and having them join him on his last tour was so special to him. Being ‘The Harry Styles’ and being a dad were his two favourite things. Performing to tens of thousands who practically worshipped him was great. Performing to tens of thousands who practically worshipped him and then going backstage to see his beautiful wife and children was even better. Getting to rock his babies to sleep and watch y/n nurse and take care of them never got old.
Now that tour has been over for a month or so and the Styles family had gotten the chance to settle into a new routine in their London home, Harry was high on domestic bliss. His babies were adjusting to their new schedule and were transitioning well to solid foods. But you couldn’t have guessed from the way y/n was frantically writing out a detailed schedule and double checking that the food for the night were prepped and ready to go.
It was her first time going out with friends since becoming a mum, and despite having no reason to worry, she was worried. All the coffees she drank to try and last through the night did nothing to help her nerves, hence, her checking everything over and over.
A fond smile stretched across Harry’s face as he watched y/n potter around the kitchen from the hallway. She was already dressed for the night in a glittery black one-shoulder dress, matching heels and a smudgy black eye liner look with a sharp red lip. Harry knew that this was her go-to when she wanted to look and feel her best. Despite still carrying some baby weight, seeing y/n all dressed up again took his breath away and immediately made him hot all over. She somehow got even more stunning. Her body was a reminder of how she provided for two babies, how she gave him the greatest gifts of his life, so of course he worshipped her body. In fact, he thinks he lusts after his wife even more now.
Once her bump started to show, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her – stroking it, speaking to it, and kissing it. His favourite part of the day was when they were finally in bed and he could get his hands on his wife. He loved moisturising her bump for her, massaging her legs and feet to help with the swelling, and when the twins came, rubbing nipple cream after they were done nursing, taking advantage of the opportunity to pepper little kisses all over her. And almost every night without fail he would get hard. He couldn’t help it, he was insatiable. His heart and his prick would both swell with affection and love upon seeing how good of a mum she was.
Dylan tugged at his curls, causing Harry to wince and say softly, “Ow baby, ya hurtin’ daddy.” He gently untangled his curls from Dylan’s little hand and smacked a kiss onto his cheek. “Bored of just standing here with daddy huh? Let’s go see your sister and mummy yeah.”
As he walked into the kitchen, he let out a low whistle and said, “Look at this absolute babe in the kitchen.”
“Stop it H,” y/n muttered shyly. Even after all these years he never failed to make her blush.
“Wha’? Am I not allowed to give my wife compliments anymore?” He cupped her face with his free hand and pressed his lips against hers. He nibbled at her bottom lip and his hand travelled down her body to wrap around her waist and press her body against his. As he tried to slip his tongue into her mouth, something firm pressed against her stomach, causing her to pull back and gasp playfully.
“H!”
“Wha’!” he pouted.
She shook her head and teased, “We kissed for five seconds and you got hard.”
“Wrong,” he sang, raising his finger as if correcting her, “I’ve been hard for five minutes before we started kissing when I was watching you from over there.”
This earned him an eyeroll and a playful smack to the stomach.
“I can't compliment my wife, I can't get love boners, what's a husband supposed to do huh? You are so beautiful, and you take such good care of our babies, of course I’m gonna get hard. You make me feral. Hottest woman alive.”
“You are ridiculous.” She brushed him off getting shy again and started going through the babies’ routine for the night to try and take his attention off of her. “Make sure you test how hot the food is on your wrist before you feed them, and they need to finish their portions if not they will get hungry in the middle of –”
“Lovie,” Harry interrupted, “we will be fine ok. I have done this a thousand times and the babies have been so well behaved yeah. Don’t worry about us and have fun, you deserve it ok.” He pulled her into him again and said, pressing soft kisses onto her face in between every word, “Go and enjoy yourself.”
“Okay, okay.” She passed Darcy to Harry who immediately nuzzled into her father’s warm chest. Harry carrying a baby on each hip was quite a sight, y/n supposes she understands his struggle because dad Harry did something to her.
Now that she didn’t have a baby on her, she felt exposed. Being in an outfit she would have worn before becoming a mum made her feel almost corny.
Sensing her change in mood immediately, Harry lowers his voice and asks with concern, “What’s wrong lovie?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, not wanting to bring down his mood. But of course, Harry knows his wife better than that, so he nudges his nose against her temple and whines, “Tell me, please.”
Her shoulders drop with a small sigh and she plays with the hem of her dress, her gaze refusing to meet his. “I just feel a bit … old. I’m a mum, almost turning 30 and I’m dressed as if I was still 20 years old.”
His brows knit together. “Hey! You’re not old. So what if you are almost 30, you look smoking hot in that dress and that makeup is sexy as fuck. I’m so fucking easy for you I got hard just from lookin’ at ya.” He then starts bouncing up and down to make his babies giggle. “Look at your mummy. Isn’t she the most beautiful woman ever? Aren’t we so lucky to have the best mummy ever?” Putting on a high pitched voice, he mimes the twins saying, “We love you mummy. We will be good for daddy so that you can get drunk. And when you come back you and daddy will make out and –”
“Harry Edward Styles!” she scolds. She gently hits his stomach again with a growing smile as he chuckled cheekily.
With one more goodbye and a kiss to each of her three babies, y/n finally left for her night out.
-
Closing the door behind her, y/n quietly unbuckled her heels and followed the low mumbling from the tv to where she expected Harry to be. In the living room was her 6ft husband curled up on the couch with Friends still playing. She knelt down beside his head and gently stroked his cheek and kissed his forehead. “Honey, wake up.”
With a whine, he uncurled himself and did a big stretch. When he blinked open his eyes and saw his wife, his mouth settled into a pout and asked hoarsely, “Kissy?”
“Of course honey,” she mumbled through a smile. He was too cute.
On their walk to their bedroom Harry refused to let go of her. He hugged her arm to his chest the entire time, pushed her hand away when she tried to unzip her dress herself, and hugged her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder and nuzzling into her neck as she took off her makeup and brushed her teeth.
She turned to face him and muttered into his cheek still buried in the crook of her neck, “You alright honey?”
“Mhmm,” he hummed, “just missed you tha’s all.”
“I missed you too. You wanna cuddle now?”
He squeezed her tighter and nodded. Unable to escape his embrace, y/n opted to walk to bed with her pouty husband clinging to her. When he found a comfortable spot cuddled up against her chest, he whispered, “I love you. Our babies are perfect. Our family is perfect.”
She couldn’t agree more.
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tobesolonely · a month ago
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some good ol’ fashioned porn without plot to get me back into writing!! 18+ pls ;)
word count: 2.5k
my ko-fi! thank you :)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
Harry thinks he really hit the jackpot when Y/N came into his life.
How many artists could say they were lucky enough to have their significant other follow them around on tour? Not many, he reckoned, so he figured that made him the luckiest little pop star on the planet. 
He didn’t even have to beg her that much! That was the best part of it all—she wanted to be around him just as much as he wanted to be around her. That made Harry feel really warm and giddy inside because he knew his love could get a bit overwhelming at times, but Y/N always took all he had to give her and reciprocated it ten times over. 
Harry knew going into this second tour that Y/N’s presence was something non-negotiable—he needed her with him like he needed his crew, his band. There was a point where Harry thought she wouldn’t be able to join him––he threw a proper fit over that, telling Jeff they would need to cut some dates because he didn’t see how he was supposed to be away from Y/N for so long. Luckily, things worked out and she was able to join him.
Having Y/N near him just made touring…better. He loved curling up to her after a show, her nails gently scratching at his scalp while the adrenaline slowly leaked from his body. He also loved when he looked to the left side of the stage at any point during the show and saw Y/N singing and dancing along to his songs, earplugs in her ears because she could be a little sensitive to loud sounds. 
Harry particularly loved when he would get off stage, needy and rocking a semi, and she was ready for him. She was always there and ready like the good girl she was. His good girl. Y/N never complained it was too much––she let him fuck into her be it in his dressing room, the backseat of their car, or on their fluffy hotel bed.
He was narcissistic as ever tonight, prancing around on stage like a little diva, shaking his bum, grinding against the mic stand...and it was all for Y/N, of course! Everything Harry does is for Y/N. He loved teasing her and giving her a show on stage. Not only did he love hearing everyone in the stadium cheer for him when he did anything slightly risque, but he loved looking over at the side of the stage and watching Y/N get flustered by his lewd movements.
As soon as Harry was off the stage he made a beeline to Y/N––never mind all the praise and accolades he was receiving for another good show. It was like he had tunnel vision, almost. The only thing on his mind was getting his pretty girlfriend alone so he could absolutely ravage her in the way he was dreaming about for the last 90 minutes.
“You did great–”
“Calling for Rob,” Harry says as soon as he’s near Y/N. “Wanna get you back to the hotel.” 
“But–”
“Y’can tell me what a great job I did later, doll. Jus’ wanna get out of here.” Harry hates to have to use his stern tone of voice with Y/N so soon, but he really wanted her to understand how badly he needed to get her alone. Didn’t the fact that he was skipping a shower to get her back to their bed quicker tell Y/N just how desperate he really was?
Y/N doesn’t say anything after that, and Harry smirks to himself. She was always so good for him. He’s grateful when she simply nods her head and reaches out her hand for him to grab, letting him weave her through various crew members, bodyguards on either side of them. 
“You did do really well tonight…” Y/N trails off. Harry simply hums in acknowledgment,  placing a quick peck on her temple. 
“Thank you, darling. Don’t see how I could not have done well, considering I had my g’luck charm watchin’ me from backstage,” He watches as Y/N looks down shyly. Harry loved that even after so much time together, he still knew how to sweet talk her in a way that made her go timid. He thought it was adorable.
“Oh, come off it,” she replies after a beat of silence. “You would’ve done just as well had I been here or not.”
“S’not true and I think you know that, love,” Harry takes in a breath of fresh air as they exit out the doors and toward the car that was waiting for them. “You know nothing gets me goin’ on stage more than knowing you're watching me…” 
“Yeah, yeah…”
Harry chuckles to himself but says nothing more, nodding to Rob, his driver, who’s holding the door of the backseat open for them. There was nothing else that had to be said. The sexual tension in the air was thick––they both knew what was happening as soon as they got back to their room.
He’s all over her as soon as the door is bolted, immediately tracing his tongue against her bottom lip. Harry's mind is reeling--his senses are overwhelmed with Y/N. Her scent, her taste, and her touch. Not to mention all the pretty little noises that were tumbling from her chapped lips. Harry moans into the kiss and hums contentedly, squeezing his eyes shut.
His hands lower to her hips, then back up to her neck before he finally settles them on the sides of her face, cradles her cheek. She giggles before standing on the tips of her toes to give his craned neck a break. 
“Let me suck you off…” she mutters, already lowering herself to her knees before Harry can respond. She looks up at him with doe eyes to make sure what she's doing is okay and once Harry nods, she's unfastening the buttons on his expensive Gucci trousers, making sure she's extra cautious so as not to snag the zipper or anything like that. 
Y/N takes Harry into her mouth without so much as a warning, immediately attempting to take his entire length down her throat at once. She’s working what she can’t fit in her mouth with her fist, being proper messy with it too, just how Harry likes it. He was a sucker for the pretty girl on her knees below him who was currently gagging and drooling all over his angry, leaking cock.
Harry pulls her off him with a loud pop! shortly after she starts--he nearly comes when Y/N decides to fondle his balls without warning. He has no other option but to get her off (unless he wanted to be done before he even got inside of her. Which he didn't).
“Not done…” she whines, moving to lower her head back onto him. Harry takes a few steps away from her before she can get him in her mouth again and he swears she whimpers. Filthy.
Harry grabs his girlfriend by her shoulders and gently guides her back up on her feet. “Gimmie a kiss.”
Y/N nods compliantly and puckers her lips for him. She was such a good little thing, and it almost makes Harry feel bad for denying her of his cock. Almost.
“Had to get you off me or I was gonna be finished before we even started.”
“I want you to cum in my mouth, H-”
Harry groans shamelessly at this, not used to hearing her speak so candidly about what she wants during sex considering she's so shy. He decides to let her have it again. 
“Ask me nicely, then.”
“Please let me suck you off, H…I- I really want-” 
Harry decides that's enough since he figures hearing herself speak like this makes her feel a little embarrassed (but he thinks she might like that a little bit, anyway). He steps forward and lets his cock smack against the side of her face before guiding himself back to her open mouth.
She croons before spitting on his dick, using it as a lubricant to make the glide of her hand easier. When she gets her mouth back to him the noises that are heard in the hotel room are obscene, slurping and gagging and choking--Harry loves all of it. He loves how she pays particular attention to the head, being sure to get it nice and wet and suck on the slit.
“Tha’s enough, darling,” Y/N keeps going and Harry has to once again pull her off, this time giving a firm tug to her hair. “I said that's enough. S’my turn, now.”
Harry helps her to her feet once more and guides her away from the door and towards the bed, gently pushing her back once the backs of her thighs touch the mattress. She spreads her legs wide immediately, almost like it’s a force of habit, and Harry crawls onto the bed and situates himself between them. 
“M’mouth is watering already…”
“Don’t tease, please.” 
Harry whispers a quiet, ”fuck me” under his breath. Now how could he tease her when she asked him so nicely not to? He’s thankful she’s wearing a skirt and all he has to do is bunch it up around her hips. “Let's get these off of you then. We don't really need them now, do we?”
Y/N quickly shakes her head and lifts her hips off the bed so that Harry can swiftly remove her underwear that is haphazardly flung to the ground as soon as he gets it off. He hurriedly flips her over so that she's lying on her belly--he loves eating her in this position the best,  he loves that he can tongue at Y/N’s asshole and pleasure her clit simultaneously. Harry licks from her hole up to her slit slowly one, two times before letting spit land on her swollen clit. He does this two more times before finally sticking his tongue inside her, quickly thrusting it in and out of her tight, weeping pussy.
Harry spreads her pussy before focusing only on her clit, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and taking it in between his lips. Either way, Y/N’s not complaining as long as she gets to feel his tongue on her. 
She always comes the quickest and hardest when Harry laps at her cunt, sucking on her clit every so often just to keep her constantly teetering closer to the edge. When she announces that she’s going to cum and Harry should just, ”Please keep licking right there, just like that!” he doesn't pull away. He lets her cum all over his face and tongue and lips and doesn’t pull away until Y/N’s pleading for him to stop, saying it's too much and she’s sensitive. 
Harry sucks harshly on her inner thigh before lifting his head from her cunt, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Always tastes so good, pet.”
“I want you inside me. Now.” Harry gives her a pointed look and watches as her eyes grow wide. “I mean, please? Please H, want you inside me.” 
Harry moves toward the head of the bed and kicks his trousers and boxers the rest of the way off, now completely naked from the waist down, then works on carefully undoing the buttons on his shirt (under normal circumstances he’d just rip the thing off, but he’s already made Lambert upset by doing that one too many times, and he promised he’d be more careful with the clothes this time around). He watches Y/N as she pulls her own shirt the rest of the way off, then she climbs into his lap, setting her knees down on either side of him. The bed creaks from the movement and Harry says in apology in his head to the people staying below them and next to them before roughly bucking his hips up, fucking into Y/N.
“So good, fuck, so so good-”
“Yeah? Y’like it, don't you? Show me how you can take it on your own, doll. C’mon, lemme see how you take it…” Harry pauses his movements, beads of sweat already forming at his hairline.
When she sinks down onto Harry’s length after lifting slightly off him the sounds that come out the both of them are primal. Their whines are loud and high-pitched and they don’t bother trying to keep it down, despite knowing Harry has several security guards just in the hallway.
“This is hard work,” Y/N says quietly and Harry wordlessly grabs her hips to resume his previous pace. She lets out a content sigh. “Thank you. Harder, please.”
“Wha’ was that?”
“I want it harder, Har-”
Harry’s pounding into Y/N before she can even ask again, leaving her a breathy, panting mess atop of him. She’s making a mess of his cock as he pounds into her relentlessly, the mixture of post-show adrenaline and an intense need for his girlfriend overtaking his movements. Harry’s spurred on by the sound of her creamy pussy and her begging for, ”more, please!” so sweetly below him. The sight was downright filthy, actually. 
He flips her onto her belly then sinks back into her, hardly faltering the pace he had set for the two of them. He supports his weight by resting his left hand on her ass and his right hand on the mattress beside them, intaking a sharp breath after she clenched around him after a particularly good thrust.
“If y’keep clenchin’ on m’cock like that then this will be over in ten seconds, love,” Harry’s tone is teasing but Y/N knows there’s only truth behind his statement.
“You fuck me so fuckin’ good, feels so good,” she's a babbling mess and all it does is encourage Harry to get her there. Now.
“Hmm,” Harry hums against the crevice of Y/N's neck, reveling in the quiet whimper a hard thrust elicits from her. “Tell me what you want, sweet girl, ‘n it's yours. Been telling' you that -fuck- since the day we met.”
That gets Y/N to start sitting down as he snaps up, meeting him halfway and doubling their pleasure. Harry can't hold back the animalistic groan that falls from his soft, pink lips.
“Harder, baby. H, please--love you so much, so close!”
Harry hums thoughtfully at her request, pausing his movements. “Want it harder, love? Want me to give it to you real good?”
All Y/N can do is nod in response. Harry feels his heart swell, overcome with love for the beautiful girl taking his cock so ducking well.
So Harry gives Y/N what she wants, not slowing down his movements even when he's so tired and out of breath her fears he could pass out. The only thing he cares about is making his pretty girl cum. 
“I’m cumming, oh shit, I’m gonna cum-” Harry reaches for her swollen, glistening clit and just gives it a few firm rubs before she's falling apart on top of his cock, letting out a cry so loud and lewd it sounds pornographic. He’s right behind her of course, shooting rope after rope inside of her tight, fucked out pussy. He was on cloud-9. They bask in the silence and bliss that comes post-orgasm before Harry speaks, popping the bubble. 
“I’m so lucky…”
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lollypopsx · a month ago
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Boyfriend!Harry: Drabble Request
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Drabble Request
Drabbles Masterlist
——————
“Harry can you stop with the clothes everywhere please” You groan softly, picking up his clothes from the sofa and taking them up into the bathroom to put them in the washing basket.
Harry was showering quickly before getting ready to go out with some friends for the evening while you were having friends your own friends round. “Harry!” You call from the bedroom.
“Yeah babe?” He calls from the shower.
“Can you clean the kitchen before you go please?” You sigh softly. “I cleaned it this morning and now it’s a shit tip” You say while going through your closet and skimming through your outfits to find something to wear.
“Babe, it’s just a few plates and stuff” He says, emerging from the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, water droplets falling from his hair onto his shoulders.
“And a saucepan, and 4 mugs of coffee...” You chuckle softly.
“Sweetheart, it’s no big deal” He chuckles, finding his black shirt and his tight jeans.
“It is when I have my friends coming round in half an hour and I’m still not ready!” You exclaim with a sigh. You had been held up at work so you were now rushing like crazy.
“And why was there clothes all around the living room? Is it really necessary to be getting changed in the living room when you can just get changed up here where the closet and washing basket is?” You half tease.
“Because I went for a run and I couldn’t be bothered to come upstairs to change” He shrugs, getting the hair dryer while you roll your eyes.
“So...are you going to drink tonight?” Harry asks softly.
“No...I’m not drinking tonight...”  You whisper gently.
“No?” He raises an eyebrow. “I know you’ve been cl-”
“-I have work early tomorrow. And I don’t want to risk anything, especially now ad before that tour meeting tomorrow evening” 
You had been dying to tell Harry all day, but you had the perfect way to surprise and tell him tomorrow that you were pregnant. You also knew that he was the worst secret keeper after he had a few drinks, and you wanted the two of you to keep it to yourselves first.
“Oh and can you make sure you take the bin out tonight please? The smell makes me want to gag” You groan, quickly straightening your hair.
“Christ, since when did you become high maintenance?” He rolls his eyes teasingly, but your face wasn’t laughing along with him.
“I am not” You grumble softly, feeling your eyes glaring at his through your mirror, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy getting changed.
Harry rushed himself to get ready and hurry downstairs, leaving you alone to your hormonal thoughts.
Am I really high maintenance?
Harry had just come back in from taking the bin out, typing up his leather shoes and pulling on his jacket, grabbing his wallet, phone and keys as you head downstairs.
“Alright babe, have fun. I’ll see you later” Harry leans down to kiss your lips, but your eyes glance into the kitchen.
“Harry! The kitchen!” You groan, rejecting his kiss. 
He furrowed his brows and huffed out. “Y/N I’m going to be late. It’s just a few bits. I’ll do them tomorrow.”
“For fuck sake Harry! Do you ever do anything I ask?!” You raise your voice in a sudden outburst in anger.
“Excuse me?!” He raised his brow, his head snapping to you. “Don’t speak to me like that! I always listen to you” He shouts in frustration.
“Evidently not!”
“God, Y/N stop being such a fucking control freak! Get a grip and chill out.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m going to be late” He spins on his heels before you had a chance to voice any more opinions. 
High maintenance...control freak...what else?
The anger was bubbling inside you as angrily scrubbed the dishes before your friends arrived. You couldn’t even have a drink to calm yourself down!
——————
Hours had passed, you had enjoyed the night with your friends, who had all now left very very drunk. You were tidying up the glasses and bottles from the living room and sorting them in the kitchen. You were so exhausted that the sofa was suddenly calling your name...maybe if you just...shut your eyes for ten minutes on the sofa...
You groan as your eyes fluttered open at 7:30 am, your neck stiff and your back aching as you groan and sit up slowly. You couldn’t believe you had just slept on the sofa the whole night. It was super uncomfortable!
Your stomach was in knots as you felt the bubbling feeling you’d had for the last 4 weeks, “Fuck” You groan, running upstairs and into the bathroom, making it there just in time to deal with your morning sickness.
You hung your head low in the toilet as you emptied your stomach, feeling two large, warm hands on your shoulders, massaging gently.
“So much for not drinking huh?” He chuckles softly, his voice raspy, like he had just woken up.
You roll your eyes and tuck your fallen hair behind your ear, “I didn’t drink” You mutter sternly.
“Oh c’mon Y/N...I came home and you were passed out on the sofa, in last nights clothes...” He shakes his head softly. “You can’t lie to me...” He sighs, his hands still massaging at your shoulders.
“I said I didn’t drink Harry!” You yell, angrily flushing the toilet and standing up, your dizzy head causing yourself to stumble into his arms. 
“See, look at you! You can’t even stand straight! Stop fucking lying. Why are you being so indenial” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration
“I’m not being indenial for fuck sake! I’m pregnant Harry!”
——————
Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores -  @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12 - @ayeshathestyles - @michelleficrecs - @rach2602
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tinydestinybear · 14 days ago
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‘People I would cheat on my boyfriend with’ Prank with Harry - headcanon | tiktok series
a/n: just a heads up, i should probably say that i have no experience with tiktok and this is a headcanon rather than a blurb (anon was comfortable with me doing one) ! also i imagine harry’s first reaction to be this gif aksjks 😭
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it’s a summer evening when you decide to prank harry who’s working on his album in his studio in your house
“babe can you come here? have something for you,” you said, turning the presentation on slide show mode
as he comes in and sits besides you, leaving a kiss on your forehead and arm going to rest across your shoulder naturally, “what is it you wanna show me?”
and as soon as you shift the laptop for him to see, he almost takes it seriously. At first, he’s a bit irritated that you called him while he was working to show him who you would cheat on him with.
but still he turns to face you with a glum frown and crossed arms, “Go on, like you’ll ever cheat on your handsome boyfriend”
a relieved smile makes its way onto his face once he sees the first slide: “None, because I absolutely adore my boyfriend.” Weren’t you just precious. 
he is definitely calm on the outside, but butterflies continue to rampage on the inside and he definitely huffs righteously as if he wasn’t just doubting himself
and when the next slide appears with a humanoid bee of all things, he takes a moment to comprehend it. 
you have plenty of time to shut the laptop because he’s trying to figure out what the actual heck he just saw but you don’t because the next second, harry’s reacting to it
“I-I’m losing to a b-bee.”
and when the third slide shows Gru, harry’s not so terrified and is soon enough chuckling, “…unique taste. honestly? I’d smash too.”
maybe he’d be confident, “you’ll have to try harder than that m’love.”
setting the laptop aside, he would tackle you in a crushing hug, smooshing his cheek against you. he’d just be glad to spend some time with you.
i can also imagine him being a little overdramatic “what if I was suicidal? what if this was my LAST STRAW?”
you’re definitely lucky he loves you.
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watchmegetobsessed · a month ago
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https://www.instagram.com/tv/CWsBjsogtu7/?utm_medium=copy_link
my brain straight thought about him edging you and all you want is for him to finally just fvck you and then he say what is in the video 😭😭
EDGING
A/N: you asked for it and im serving it. get ready for the juice!
WARNING: adult content, edging... bc he is just obsessed with it.
WORD COUNT: 2.1K
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He is still wearing his light blue shiny shirt.
And nothing else
You’re lying across the king sized bed of the hotel room you share, only your lacy thong covering your soaking wet pussy that’s throbbing for him, a pained whimper slips through your trembling lips when he steps closer to the bed and wraps a hand around his rock hard cock, staring down at you with greedy, dark eyes. This is not the soft Harry who likes to cuddle you every night, who brings breakfast to bed just to see you smile first thing in the morning, who always surprises you with little gifts to brighten your day.
No, this version of him is dominant, demanding and in full control of you. Just how you like him.
He came off the stage extra cheeky tonight and judging from the way how he could barely keep his hands off of you at the venue, you knew things would get heated pretty fast as soon as you’re alone.
“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his lips as he gives himself a few slow, but sturdy pumps.
“Harry, please!” you moan, your thighs shutting closed to create some friction at least. He’s been taking his sweet time with you, he stripped out of your dress as if you were a gift to be unwrapped, made you stand against the wall as he sank to his knees, biting into your ass cheeks, his hands coming to tease between your legs that were shaking from excitement. Then he threw you to the bed, like an absolute cave man and made you watch him strip from his light blue pants and underwear, leaving him only in his shiny shirt, because you told him before the show how much you liked it.
His chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, some of his post concert sweat is still glistening on his warm skin and you’re dying to touch him, but you know if you don’t do what he tells you, you won’t get what you want.
“Keep them open, baby. Want to see how desperate you are for me,” he warns you, a hand coming to push your knees apart so he sees your wet cunt. “Touch yourself, let me see just how wet you are.”
Your hand moves down your chest and stomach until you reach the elastic of your underwear, but before you could reach under the fabric, he speaks up.
“No, over the thong. Want to see it drenched.”
Another whimper falls from your lips as you press your fingers against your clit, finally feeling your nerves reacting to a touch, but it’s not the one you desire the most. You move your two fingers up and down, pressing the lacy fabric into your cunt, between the lips as it soaks up your arousal.
“Does it feel good? Or do you want something else, baby?” he hums, cocking his head to the side as he keeps stroking himself lazily.
“Feels good, but I want you!” you breathe out as you try to get yourself closer to relief, but your body is working against you. It only wants Harry and you can’t blame yourself.
“Yeah? You want this?” he asks glancing down at his throbbing dick. Your voice dies in your throat so you only nod, but it’s not enough for him. “I want to hear you, baby. Beg for it.”
You moan at his words, your thighs twitching to close again, but you remember what he said about wanting them open so you force yourself to obey.
“Please!” is all you manage to get out. Harry steps closer to the bed, his hand letting go of his cock before moving to grab your wrist and pushing it away from you. With one swift movement, he rips the last piece of clothing, making you gasp from the sudden pinching you feel as the fabric gives up around your body, and he throws it to the side without batting an eye. It’s not the first piece he has ruined and surely not the last one either.
He places a knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over your shaking form, his cock springing freely with each movement he makes and the way his tongue slides across his lips gives you shivers.
“You know just one please is never enough for me,” he warns, his voice low and raspy after tonight’s show and you could come just from his words at this point.
“Fuck, Harry! Just… Ugh!”
It’s torture, how his fingertips tap on your clit a few times before drawing a few slow circles, teasing and playing with you.
“Just what, huh? You want my cock? Does your pussy want to be properly fucked?”
“Yes!” you cry out, your whole body on fire. He grabs the base of his cock, brings his hips closer, just enough that he can drag the tip across your lips, pushing a tiny bit into your hole, but pulling back right away. “Harry!” you moan almost as if you were in pain, but in a sense, you are. Every second that passes without him inside you is a painful one and you want him to end your misery.
“I told you, I want to hear you. You ask nicely, you get it. Stop being a brat and use your words.”
Fucking hell, this man will be the death of you.
“Harry, please! I need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me, please! I’m begging!”
The smirk on his face is so smug, so confident, you love it even if he is making you suffer. You’d do anything for him and he knows exactly just how much power he holds over you.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles, dragging the tip across you once again, tapping it a few times on your clit, smearing your wetness all over him and you as well. He pushes himself against your hole again, just the very end of the tip entering you, but doesn’t move, only watches you through lustful eyes as you fall apart for him.
“Harry! Fuck me, please!” you cry out, one hand coming flat against his toned stomach as he moves a bit closer, hovering over you. Running your hands up his chest, his neck, you lace your fingers through his hair and pull him down for a needy kiss that he returns gladly. His lips are sucking and tugging on yours, tongue invading your mouth, melting together with yours as his cock is still not inside you.
“Love it when you are so desperate for me, baby,” he growls, positioning his hips so his cock slips between your lips and he moves a little, slipping between them, the tip pushing against your clit over and over again.
He keeps this up, his head moving to the crook of your neck, marking you up as always so you already know you’ll have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but now you just want to feel him everywhere.
Then he pulls back, lining his cock up with you and you’re sure he’ll finally give you what you want, but just as you feel the tip entering you again… he pulls back. You gasp, tugging on his hair a little harder as he smirks down at you, so pleased with himself.
“Harry…” you breathe out, but he just chuckles, enjoying the game.
“Edging,” he then murmurs and with one swift movement, he thrusts inside you.
He fills you up fast and so perfectly, you’re convinced you were made for each other. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, starts moving rapidly, slamming his hips against yours mercilessly, pounding into you just how you like it. One hand comes to your thigh and he urges you to lock his waist with your legs, you’re more than happy to obey, allowing his cock to bury deeper into you.
“So needy for me, yeah? Who fucks you the best, baby? Let me hear it from you,” he groans into your neck, wet lips brushing against the spot he sucked on earlier.
“You, Harry! Only you!”
“That’s right. You’re mine,” he growls before biting into the soft skin, making you gasp from the sensation.
He is pounding into you so hard, you keep sliding further up on the bed until your head reaches the headboard. He stops for a moment, turning the two of you around so you’re on top, one hand on his chest, the other holding onto the headboard and you barely get situated before his hands grab onto your hips and he starts thrusting up into you, doing the job himself instead of making you ride him.
“Fuck! You’re so good, Harry! I’m so close!”
“Want to cum, baby? You think you deserve it?” he teases you, a few curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, his whole body glistening in the dim lighting.
“Yes! Please, let me cum!” you beg, your eyes meeting his and an animalistic growl erupts from his chest. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you, caging you in them as one of his hands comes to your lower back, guiding you, hinting that he wants you to finish it.
“Ride my cock and make yourself cum, Y/N. Come on, I want to see you using me.”
“Fuck,” you gasp as you start moving your hips, arms clinging onto his broad shoulders. His face is buried in your neck and chest, kissing you wherever he can reach. Though you love the shirt on him, you want to feel him fully naked, so you tug at the fabric and he is quick to rid himself from it, his naked, toned arms wrapping back around you as you relentlessly ride him, feeling your orgasm building up and nearing.
“My girl is using my cock so well, look at that. You like it? You like my cock?”
“I love it,” you nod eagerly and craning your neck you capture his lips just when you feel the end nearing. “Can I cum? Please, Harry, I want to cum so badly!” you beg to him against his parted lips, your breathing mixing together.
“Yes. Do it! Cum all over my cock, baby!”
That’s all you need to explode, pleasure washing over your entire body like a tsunami and you scream his name, your walls tightening around him which brings him over the edge as well. He cums inside you, filling you up so well you’re sure it’s gonna be dripping out of you very soon. He is gasping and panting against your chest, his breathing warming your already heated skin.
You stay like that coming off your high, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, ass, hips and back, lips peppering soft kisses onto your collarbones. When he moves the two of you, laying you to the bed you grunt as he slips out of you, leaving you so empty, already aching to feel him inside you again even though you’re completely ruined at this point.
“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your lips softly before getting up from the bed and disappearing in the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and he carefully cleans you up, but you don’t miss the smug grin on his face when he sees just how good he fucked you, his semen dripping out of your now sensitive cunt.
“Like what you see?” you chuckle tiredly.
“I sure do. Love to see my girl full of me.”
“And you’re full of yourself,” you scoff, but reach for him to pull him down for another kiss. “I have to get up to pee, but I’m so tired.”
“We also should have a shower,” he smiles, pecking the tip of your nose. He reaches under you and easily picks you up into his arms bridal style and you have no idea how he has the energy to carry you to the bathroom after a show and the way he just fucked you. You stood at the backstage the whole time and only rode him at the end and you’re still completely sent.
He carefully sets you down to the toilet and you do your business without a care as he starts the water in the shower, grabbing two towels for you. When you’re finished, he helps you into the spacious walk in shower so you don’t slip and then insists to soap and wash you, taking good care of you. And just like that, he is back to caring boyfriend mode.
And you just love all versions of him.
1K notes · View notes
harryswifeofficial · 21 days ago
Text
Insignificant
Summary: Everything is always about Harry all the time, and Y/N feels insignificant to the rest of the world, but especially to him. Angst
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: Swearing, fighting, toxicity.
A/N: geez louise i havent written in so long. hope u like lmk what u think
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Everything was about him all the time. That was to be expected, wasn’t it? He was Harry Styles for fucks sake. The A-list, grammy-nominated singer and actor. The fashion icon and legend himself.
If it wasn’t his emerald green eyes, or his dimpled smile, it was his voice that would have you under his spell within seconds.
Y/N had been a victim to his charm, just like everyone, at a pub near both of their houses two years ago. From the very first second she’d laid eyes on him, it was as if her soul had said “There you are.” Her heart pulling her to him before she could even understand why. Something that went beyond physical attraction. But of course, his curls, tousled and hanging on his forehead played a factor. Just as much as the ink painted across his golden skin, and flexed bicep, the vintage T-shirt he’d thrown on proving to be a good choice.
It was embarrassing, really, to get warm in the face, like a schoolgirl for someone you’d only set eyes on for a few seconds. But still, she was itching to talk to him, to be near him, to fulfill whatever it was that her heart was screaming at her to do.
On any other night, she wouldn’t have kept walking his way. There were plenty of empty chairs at the side of the bar opposite to him, but the ones next to him called her name. Empty of course, as if the universe had planned it that way, just so they could meet. There was no other reason as to why a man so handsome and recognizable would be sitting all by himself.
She had heard of him before, quite enjoyed some of his music but really hadn’t kept up with him. All of that mixed with the fact that she was absolutely captivated by him made it difficult to keep walking. Especially once her brain began to speak louder than her heart.
What are you doing?
He’s Harry Styles for fucks sake, what makes you think that he wants to talk to you?
What are you even going to talk about? You probably have nothing in common.
It was all enough for her to stop in her tracks and impulsively sit on the stool right next to her. About 8 stools away from him, and whip out her phone.
She could hardly get a breath in, or even send out a text with the way her hands were practically dripping with sweat and shaking. But they found their way to her best friend’s contact anyway, taking longer than it should’ve.
Yo, super cute guy at the pub
Okay it’s Harry Styles, he’s here and he’s sitting all alone
I’m nervous to go sit next to him, I don’t know what to say to him, its like Harry Styles so what the fuck am I supposed to say to him
I mean I’ve heard nice things, he seems nice, he looks nice and I really wanna talk to him, not just because he’s famous and gorgeous but I don’t know my insides are like going insane and telling me to go up to him but i’m so nervous help
Of course, her friend responded to her frantic messages within seconds.
HARRY STYLES??
IF YOU DON’T TALK TO HIM I’LL COME OVER THERE AND DO IT MYSELF
Before she could begin to type a response, the bar tender’s voice pulled her attention.
“‘Scuse me, miss?”
She lifted up her head.
“What can I get you? Lad over there jus’ offered t’pay f’your drink.”
Both of their eyes flickered over to Harry, who shot her a smile that made her stomach drop to her ass.
Holy fuck
Her eyes lingered a bit too long, like an idiot, but she swears to this day that her body simply wouldn’t let her look away. She’ll never forget it. That feeling of familiarity, as if it wasn’t the first time that she’d looked into those gorgeous eyes.
It wasn’t just because she’d occasionally see him on a magazine at her local grocery store, or performing at an award show on her TV. This was different, with everything in her body signaling to her something that she couldn’t quite decipher just yet, she just knew she had to get closer to him, and it seemed that he felt the same way too.
“Oh- um…could I maybe have like a…just a margarita with salt on the rim?”
“Sure!”
As soon as she got the green light from him, she mustered up every single ounce of courage she had in her and lifted herself off the seat. It felt like he was the strongest magnet on earth and she was the weakest of metals. She let herself gravitate towards him, not fighting towards what everything within her craved, until he was right in front of her.
She wanted so badly to run, to turn around but she sat down.
“Hi, um…thanks for the drink.” She blurted out with little thought.
“Yeah! Of course. Saw ya over there, y’looked like y’wanted t’come over here but y’weren’t sure so I thought I’d let ya know that ‘s okay. I don’t bite.”
God, I probably looked insane staring at him
“Oh, sorry about that, I probably looked like a total weirdo staring. But uh…thanks again..?”
She knew who he was, she didn’t live under a rock but still wanted him to properly introduce himself so that she didn’t seem even more insane.
“Harry.” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but do the same.
“Y/N.”
From then on, it was like she was catching up with an old friend or a past lover. Someone she loved in a previous lifetime with everything in her.
There was nothing that they didn’t have in common.
“Holmes Chapel? No way! I lived there from age 9-11 before I moved to London for m’mum’s
work.” She gasped.
“Y’sure we’re not the same person?” He laughed.
“I think we just might be.”
Yet they were different enough for things to be interesting.
“I love both, but dogs are better than cats.” He shrugged, as if he was right and she could only look at him as if he’d said the most appalling thing.
“I cannot believe you’ve just said that.”
“I did.” He smiled, that smile that made her dizzy every time he flashed it.
“I don’t think we can go on, Harry.”
“Really? Out of everything I’ve said t’night that y’didn’t agree with, this is y’dealbreaker?”
“Well, of course. We can’t have cat children if ya like dogs better than cats.”
“Okay, well, I did have a cat once. Her name was Thea and I quite liked her, so f’you, I could compromise.”
For you.
Her face burned even hotter.
“M’mum has four. I have a feeling you two would get along.” He continued.
“You think?” She asked shyly, her eyes on the table, with the butterflies in her stomach warning her not to look up at him, or she’d faint.
“Oh, she’d love you.”
He was her soulmate. She knew from then. There was no other way to explain their entire evening together, where they’d both fallen without really understanding why. How they already knew and understood each other so well, how they were already so comfortable around one another. How they already loved each other. She didn’t have to meet anyone else on earth, what point would it serve? This was her best friend, the person she was meant to walk alongside for the rest of her life. She was so sure, and it’d only taken three hours, when she’d never reached that point with anyone else she’d dated. Not even her ex of two years.
She was so smitten that she never thought about what dating Harry would really entail. She loved him no matter what of course, baggage and all. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Harry Styles.
It wasn’t the stares they got every time they went out, or having to leave through the back doors at restaurants. It wasn’t even the hate comments she received on her social medias that got to her. It was the feeling that her entire identity and individuality had been erased.
It didn’t matter at first, but by the first month, after her 20th time being called “Harry Styles’ Girlfriend”, she began to slip.
Nobody cared that she was currently in school, pursuing her dream job, or how beautiful, and talented she was. The only thing that made her valuable in the public’s eye was who she was with.
That became more obvious after all of the launch and after parties where all she heard was:
“You must be so proud.”
And nobody knew or even cared to know that she was his muse, that she was the one who soothed him when he’d get frustrated while working on a project, that she was the one who encouraged his ideas and gave valuable input. No one ever congratulated or praised her for her contributions, it was always just about him, even when his work was about her.
And the beloved: “Y/N, how’s Harry?” Where no one cared to ask how she was every time she was spotted out by a fan or a pap.
It was pathetic and embarrassing to be upset, she was well aware. But was it really? When all she wanted to feel was appreciated and acknowledged as her own person? As a human being beyond her relationship? She had taken it, but the comments littered in her Instagram every time she shared something personal or a post about a project she’d worked very hard on with responses about Harry really set her off. Nobody cared.
According to everyone on Earth she was irrelevant and didn’t matter beyond him, and she never would. She would always be Harry Styles’ Girlfriend, or Harry Styles’ ex-girlfriend, or Harry Styles’ Wife. She would always be linked back to him, nameless and unimportant without his name.
It didn’t help that all they ever talked about was him, either. That’s when she knew she was truly breaking.
In the beginning of their relationship, hearing about him win an award was exciting. Her body coursed with the same excitement that he felt, maybe even more, but now it felt like the only topic of their conversations every time they sat down for dinner. Some award show he was nominated for, what he was going to wear, with her day and achievements frequently left out and hardly paid any attention. They always felt small and irrelevant compared to whatever he was talking about, and she never wanted to feel like she was taking away from his achievements or come off as jealous or selfish. But it made her feel like shit. Having to keep in so much about herself to the one person she thought she was supposed to tell everything to.
“I didn’t even know that award show existed, but I’m nominated!”
“Oh yeah?” She picked at her potatoes. Her voice monotonous and free of any emotion. She was fucking exhausted, and couldn’t even fake it anymore.
“Yeah! I have t’text Lambert and see what the vibe’s gonna be f’this one. I’m thinkin’ I’m only gonna make a quick appearance and not actually go, I’ve got a business meeting that day f’Pleasing, but y’know I still want t’look good.”
“Yeah, I get it, baby. It’s still a TV appearance. What’s the meeting gonna be about?” As exhausted as she was, she never wanted to sound like she didn’t care, or make him feel that way. He deserved the attention that she never received.
“We’re goin’ over the nail polish colours and finalizing them.”
“Oh, you are? That’s so exciting!” Just then, it occurred to her that she hated the fact that he didn’t care or notice that she was off, quiet and distant. Too caught up in the excitement of all the amazing things that were happening to him. Her heart ached in a way that made her nauseous.
Your soulmate is supposed to be someone who knows you better than you know yourself. Who has all your nervous tics and each remedy for them memorized. Someone who doesn’t even have to see a frown on your face to know when you’re upset. Really, it was obvious though, her body language and hushed tone said it all, he just didn’t care to pick up on it and it hurt more than anything.
Absolutely nobody cared about her or how she was doing, not even the one person who was supposed to.
“Um, I think I’m gonna go lay down. I have a headache all of a sudden.” She sniffled, her eyes beginning to sting.
“Are you alright, darling?” For just that second, he seemed to come out of his own world a bit, placing a hand on hers.
His warmth silenced all of the thoughts racing in her head, and the anger and sadness that’d begun to swirl inside of her. It was embarrassing, really, how she seemed to lose every sense of self worth, or dignity for what was the absolute bare minimum. But the bare minimum had become a luxury, so she took whatever ounce she could get. Anything to counter what she and everyone had told her for months, that she was better off without him.
“Yeah, I’ll be alright, I just need a moment. Come lay with me?”
He flashed her the eyes she knew all too well. The ones that used to break her heart, but she’d grown used to. Soft and apologetic, right before he said something that broke whatever was left of her into smaller shards.
“Oh, doll, I’d love to but I’ve got a super important call with Jeff in a couple of minutes. I wouldn’t want t’disturb you any more, and he’s been incredibly busy lately so we can’t reschedule.”
“Yeah, no, go take the call, I’ll be alright.
She was always saying yes. Putting herself last and just going with whatever he wanted. But what was there to say? She shouldn’t have to ask her boyfriend to interest himself
in her or ask her how her fucking day was, to prioritize her. She knew he was juggling a lot and was at the peak of his career, and she was proud of everything he was achieving, but was it so much to ask for just a little bit of his time?
Every single one of his accolades, she could list. And she could sing all of his songs word for word, probably better than he could. She had all of his schedules memorized, and knew all of his habits like the back of her hand. How he often grew attached to certain articles of clothing and went through phases, wearing them until there wasn’t much left of them. How he repeated himself sometimes, and the various ‘um’s, and ‘uh’s scattered throughout all of his sentences. That one dance move he always did up on stage. Yet he couldn’t even remember the name of that one professor she really hated, even though she talked about him all the time. Or the class she was doing really well in, just because it wasn’t as notable as his Brit Award nomination or upcoming Gucci shoot. He never even cared to ask.
That was why she never told him anything, not anymore. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway, that’s how he and everyone had made her feel.
And that’s why she didn’t want to tell him about the fact that she’d landed an interview with a company that she’d been eyeing for years. Dreamt of working at and had basically shaped her entire future around. Fearing that if she did, all she’d get was a pat on the back and him going off on some tangent about how he’d also once worked with his dream company too. Probably something bigger and much cooler than hers. His responses always went back to him, while all she ever threw at him was compliments. You can only take it for so long. But of course she never said anything, and just like every other night, she collected the dishes that he didn’t even bother offering to help with, and shoved them in the sink a little harder than she’d intended. Walking towards their bedroom with an anger that swelled with every step she took.
Every second spent in that house was a war between her heart shouting that she loved him and her brain swearing she’d had enough. It was hell, but it was all she knew. For over two years, this house, him, them. They were all she had and she’d be nothing without him.
So, every time he placed his hand on hers, and did what was the bare fucking minimum, she was brought back to that night in the bar where their souls danced and said “At last.”
Or maybe she’d only imagined it that way.
Now, in the bed where she lay with a heavy heart and tears in her eyes and an awful swelling in her throat, she knew. Soulmates are not supposed to make you feel like that. Alone, uncared for, irrelevant, unimportant. Second place.
Maybe it was her body’s way of trying to distract and numb her of the pain that spread throughout her like flames, because it started playing every one of her favorite memories of them. Most from months ago, but some of them recent. The secret getaways to Italy where they spent their evenings on the balcony of their villa. Sipping on expensive wine and where he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing in the city. Like the view before them stood no chance and she was far more stunning to look at. He never hesitated to tell her either, and would always utter “Y’so beautiful.” In that thick, heavy tired voice of his. So raspy, yet so smooth. She never got tired of hearing it.
And afternoons spent, dancing to her favorite songs of his. The ones people always asked her about. The one’s she’d inspired but never got any credit for. Where she’d trip over his feet and fall into his arms laughing, the kind of laugh that forces tears out of your eyes.
There were so many more memories she hoped to create with him, she couldn’t leave now. And just like that, it was as if dinner had never happened. As if every single person who’d ever made her feel insignificant because of him, had never said a thing at all. The few happy memories seemed to define their entire relationship in her head and overrode the fact that she’d just been crying only seconds ago, and how most of her nights were spent like that. How nothing ever really changed.
He could never know. So the second she heard the door creak open, she wiped her tears.
“Y’will not believe what Jeff jus’ booked f’me-“ He stopped in his tracks when he saw her face glistening and her eyes a bright red.
“Oh, darling. What happened?” He rushed over, crouching beside her.
“It’s nothing. Nothing, um, I just…my head really hurts and it’s frustrating, but I feel a little better now.” She fiddled with her thumbs.
“Y’sure, m’love?”
He’d bought it, of course he did. He didn’t know her well enough to know that every time she played with her fingers, she was lying through her teeth. Something that rarely occurred, but that she’d gotten way too comfortable doing since she’d met him.
“Yeah, I’m good! Um, big news.” She had to distract him, something that would keep him from prying, in the off chance that he knew her better than she thought he did. It was almost instinctive, she’d put little thought into it, just needing something to take his attention away from her swollen and damp face.
“What is it, doll?” His eyes lit up once hers did, and for a second, she began to smile. A true genuine smile, that made her heart flutter and those butterflies in her stomach begin to dance. His attention was completely on her and what was going on in her life. He was actually capable, after all. That spark of hope flickered inside of her, and she prayed this time that it wouldn’t burn out like it always did.
“I landed that interview.” And his eyes widened, hands grabbing hers and squeezing them as her smile grew.
“F’that company you’ve been dying t’work for?!”
He remembers.
“Yeah! I got it!”
He thrusted forward, wrapping his arms around her form as she hit the mattress. Suffocated by the giggles that wouldn’t stop coming out and his weight on top of her.
“That’s m’girl! Knew you would do it, baby. I knew it.” He said between the kisses that he peppered across her face.
How could she ever let go of him? Never, not now that he’d proved that he did care and did interest himself in her activities. This looked like a new beginning for their relationship. One where she’d actually feel appreciated and cared about. There was no way to describe the bliss that consumed her in that moment.
Finally.
He pulled away, only a little to look at her face and lingering smile.
“Can you take me? It’s this Friday at eleven. I’m super nervous and I really need you with me.” It was the most she’d ever really asked of him at that stage of their relationship. During the honeymoon period, she had him wrapped around her finger and he would do anything her heart desired, but now she’d grown too shy to ask. As she learned long ago that the answer to these kinds of requests was usually no.
“I wouldn’t miss it f’the world, baby. I promise.”
The rest of the week was just like that honeymoon period, particularly the next morning where she woke up to a bouquet delivered to their home, in her name. Specifically: “The smartest girl I know.”
It was long after he’d gone off to the studio, so she’d spent the entire day with her head buried in the flowers, with a lovesick grin on her face until he got back. They couldn’t go out to their favorite restaurant, as it was busy and they risked having an unpleasant experience, so they stayed home and he cooked her one of her favorite recipes of his. She hadn’t had it in so long.
On Tuesday, he’d brought her a sweatshirt that they were testing out for merch, a size larger than her usual one, just like she always bought when she went out shopping. He’d noticed and made sure to tell the merch team.
On Wednesday they’d danced to their favorite song in the morning.
The one they’d discovered in a grocery store the first time she’d ever stayed over at his house. They’d been out buying snacks for the evening when it came on. She remembers the way they’d turned to look at each other, with knowing smiles. After frantically searching for it, they blasted it all the way home, nearly knowing all the words by the time they’d pulled up to his house.
On Thursday, the nerves began to hit. As the moment she’d been waiting for her entire life crept up on her and was in 24 hours. He didn’t say anything, except for a “You’re gonna do great babe.” that hardly reassured her, but the chamomile tea he made had soothed her. He’d remembered that it was the tea that never failed to relax her when she was stressed. It felt like finally, things were going to go back to the way they were. When they first began to fall.
That night, he looked at her like he hadn’t in ages. It was just the two of them, then. In their bed. Something they didn’t get too often with Harry’s late hours spent in the studio and early mornings. He looked beautiful, illuminated and sparkling underneath the moonlight that cascaded through their windows, with those sweet eyes of his. His thumb hadn’t left her cheek since they’d laid down, and hers hadn’t left his torso. With their legs intertwined, she could feel it. Their souls, completely intermingled and she knew she was right all along. He really was her soulmate. All the times she felt that he wasn’t, but stayed anyway, and all of the internal hardships she’d overcome just proved it. The fact that he was putting more effort, as if he knew and could sense that she’d felt untended to, proved it.
“Y’gonna kick ass tomorrow, y’know tha’?” He rasped, eyes threatening to shut.
“I love you so much. Thanks for coming with me.” She replied, meaning every single word.
“I wouldn’t miss it f’the world.”
Sometime after that they fell asleep in each other’s arms, and it wasn’t long before her alarm screamed for her to wake up.
Her senses weren’t fully awake yet, but she knew that she no longer felt the warmth of his skin, and the security his arms had brought only hours ago, which forced her eyes open.
He’d always been an early riser, so it was no surprise that he was up before her, as he always was. What was weird was the absence of the shower running, and the fact that his side of the bed was left a mess. He typically tried to tidy it up, so that she didn’t have to make the bed completely by her self.
She sat up, rubbing at her eyes as she began to grow more and more anxious and confused.
Where is he?
“Baby?” She called, as loud as the hoarseness in her voice would allow her to.
“Harry?” She slipped out of the bed on wobbly legs. Making their way out of their bedroom.
Perhaps he was downstairs?
“H?” She shouted once she’d made it to their stairs.
Nothing.
That’s when her heart began to race. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t home and her interview was in an hour and fifteen minutes.
She rushed back to their bedroom, now fully awake. Making a B-line for her nightstand where her phone lay. There was that feeling again. The heartache, the nausea, and the stinging in her eyes. The loneliness.
There was nowhere he should’ve been, as he hadn’t mentioned having plans. If anything had come up, if there was any sort of emergency, he would’ve woken her up, but he’d left without a trace, which was completely unlike him.
As the phone rang, she paced around their room. Every single emotion known to mankind coursing within her, alternating. One second she was angry, angry because he’d seemingly flaked and abandoned her. Sad because it was to be expected and she should’ve known. And worried, because this was so unlike him, he’d seemed to have left in a hurry so he or someone they knew could be in some sort of danger or hurt. And frustrated because she’d asked him to do one simple thing and he couldn’t when he’d known how important it was to her. They’d spent a magical week, one that’d reassured her about the future of their relationship only for him to fuck it all up on the most important day of her life. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she wasn’t even sure which emotion or reason she was crying for. Maybe all of them.
After a few rings, he finally picked up, and she spoke before he could even say “Hello”.
“You promised!” She shouted through a sob.
“You promised, Harry. You promised.”
She didn’t care how hysterical she sounded, despite having tried to cover it up their entire relationship. It was finally time he saw everything she’d bottled up for months.
“I know, baby, I know. Jeff called and said there was somethin’ wrong at the studio. The file for one of our instrumentals got deleted or fucked or something and we’re trying to see if we can get it back. I’ll be back in time t’take you to y’thing.”
Your thing.
Of course her career didn’t matter or even compare to his. It never did.
“N-no! Come now, Harry. I want you with me right now. You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to fucking be here to support me.”
“I’ll be right there, my love. I swear.”
“You always do this. Its always about you. You only care about yourself and I’m just here to cheer you on like the rest of the world and suck your dick whenever you want it.” She spat.
“Don’ be like tha’.” He pleaded.
“I’m fucking sick of this shit. You never do anything for me, ever! I asked you to be here for me just once, just this once and you can’t even fucking do that. I’m sick of this shit.” She choked on her tears.
“Y/N, I promise you, as soon as this is resolved, I will be over there. I won’t miss it. I understand how important this is for you, but this is also important f’me.“
“I know, but can’t you just let Jeff handle it? Or the sound engineers? People who work at the studio? You only sing, you don’t have to be there.”
There was a pause, followed by a sigh.
“I-I do. I’m tryin’ to help them figure out solutions. We’re almost done, angel, alrigh’? I told you I wouldn’t miss it f’the world and I won’t.”
“You know what? Just don’t fucking bother. In fact, you know what? Don’t worry about ever doing anything for me ever again. This told me everything I’d been in denial about for months. You don’t give a shit about me, you will always prioritize yourself, your comfort and your career so I won’t bother you with my stuff anymore.”
“Come on, Y/N.”
“Hope it all works out with your song.”
She hung up before he could beg her to reconsider, or maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, she didn’t want to hear it. As she stood there, in the middle of the room, hurt and numb all at once, she was completely unsure of her words. She couldn’t say for sure that she wouldn’t go running back to him in a week or two, he had that effect on her, but one thing was for certain in that moment. She had an interview to go to, and a job to land, whether he’d be there with her or not.
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finelinevogue · 5 months ago
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an interview from hell
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Description - Harry is doing his interview on the Howard Stern show and you hate it just as much as he does
A/N - i wrote this bc we all hate howard :) hope you enjoy and yeah just enjoy basically <33
warnings : angst, self deprecation, swearing
[ masterlist ]
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Today was a day that Harry had been dreading for months now.
Around 4 months ago Jeff had got a call from the producers of Howard Sterns show for Harry to be a guest on the show. Jeff had agreed, thinking that it would be really good for promotion of the new album. Little did he know that it was the one talk show that Harry tried to stay clear of.
Howard has a way with words that can get people to reveal things that they never thought they would. After watching his interviews on youtube to come to terms with why Harry wasn't a fan, you understood. Howard blatantly objectified women and sexualised men. No wonder Harry has had several anxiety attacks about going on it. Compared to other celebrities that went on the show, Harry also was a singer. So he had to go through the interview before performing. Harry already became nervous enough when he was performing so the added nerves from the, brutal, interview will do no good for him.
When Jeff had told Harry about the show he had been in the recording studio, on a random Wednesday morning. As quickly as Jeff told Harry, Harry had left the building just as quickly. He didn't stop walking until he collapsed in your lap where you were sat on your shared couch. You didn't know what was wrong but you comforted him all the same, knowing he would talk when he was ready. His head laid in your lap for hours, you just scratching his head softly to keep him relaxed, until he had finally vented everything out to you.
You woke up on this particular, dreaded, morning with yourself wrapped up in Harrys embrace. He was in his black Calvin boxers and you were in pants and one of his oversized hoodies, since you got cold so easily. Your eyes were met, first, with Harrys angelic sleeping face. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, something you wished he was able to feel all the time.
You moved one of your hands to brush away a rogue curl from his forehead. His bedhead was impressive this morning, but probably nothing in comparison to yours. You weren't going to sit and pretend you were a beautiful sleeper - oh no - you were a drooler and a light snorer. You had been so self conscious about it at the start of your relationship with Harry, but he said it comforted him - whatever that meant.
"Hmm." Harry shuffled in your arms, clinging on to you a little tighter.
"Morning handsome." You teased, loving how he managed to look so perfect even with a crazy bedhead, sleep in his eyes and slight under eye bags.
"Morning gorgeous." He said back, following your theme of complimenting each other - even though you fully well knew you probably looked exactly like Princess Ana, from Frozen, when she woke up in that one scene.
"Shut up you." You playfully hit his chest giggling as you did so. If there was one thing you sucked at, it was taking compliments. Whether it was someone praising your baking or it was Harry cherishing your body, you were terrible at taking them. Harry found it adorable.
"Fuck!" Harry shouted after a minute of silence, stretching his arms out over his head and exposing his hairy armpits.
"What?" You laughed at him, pulling the sleeves over your hands and resting your head on to his chest.
"Got this bastard interview with Howard today." He groaned, rubbing his eyes roughly.
You swiftly lurch over his body and sit on top of him, resting your body down on to him. You place your hidden hands on either side of his head and hover above his face. He kept his arms above his head, flexing his almighty muscles.
"You'll be alright, H." You tried to reassure him, but you were struggling to convince yourself.
"I really won't. He's going to eat me alive." He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes.
You took it as the opportunity to lean down and press your plump morning lips to his. You didn't care about the morning breath or slightly chapped lips, and neither did Harry. You just wanted to show him that you were here with him and that he wasn't alone. He was so kind and you hated that Howard was going to really test his limits. Some celebrities have snapped in the past - you might even.
You think about moving off his lips, but the slightest lift off his lips sets Harrys hands into motion. He is quick to grab your cheeks and pull you down harder on his lips, not giving you the opportunity to move yet. If Harry didn't make you so dizzy maybe you'd remember you need to breathe. Even after he'd pulled away you remained intoxicated.
"Hey, baby. Breathe for me, love." Harry reminded you, noticing how your chest wasn't rising as rapidly as it should be for such a heated kiss. You let out the first exhale of many after his words, letting a small laugh out in the midst of evening out your breathing.
"You make me so breathless." You said, dropping your head onto the top of Harrys chest in defeat. His arms snaked around your back and under the hoodie, rubbing his warm hands over your even warmer, smooth, back. He laughed at you a little before whispering sweet nothings in your ear, as your breathing returns to normal.
"There's my girl. I love you, Y/N/N." He kissed the top of your head.
You moved your head back out of chest and up to his face, his lips slightly swollen from your passionate make-out session a couple minutes ago. You placed a chaste kiss to his lips, Harry pushing the hair behind your ear so it didn't disturb you.
"I love you, H. You're going to be amazing today." You told him, kissing him again. You couldn't get enough of this man it was a slight problem.
"You sure?" He raised his eyebrows sarcastically.
"If Howard is a douche I will personally chop of his dick." You said with a straight face, which makes Harry let out a bellowing laugh below you. One that made his stomach shake underneath yours.
"Okay darling." He knew that you would never - you were just too innocent for that - but it was nice to hear you'd stick up for him over potentially going to prison. He stole another quick kiss from you as you pouted at him for laughing at you.
"I'm going to get ready. You should too you lump." You informed Harry.
"Oi, you cheeky sod."
Mornings like these you cherished so much. It was just Y/N and Harry behind the closed bedroom door. No famous bullshit. Just two kids in love.
••••
Upon arriving, in the Mercedes Uber, you could tell Harry was trying to settle himself down.
He was dressed immaculately. Head to toe in designer - pearls and all. You loved how he was recently, comfortably, expressing and loving himself through clothes. He liked to have fun and experiment different styles and you couldn't be more supportive of the whole movement.
"You got this." You whisper in his ear, clutching one of hand of his in both of yours. He was shaking slightly, and it made you just want to cuddle him until he was cuddled out.
You were being allowed to sit in the building, in the room opposite the recording studio. You were going to be given headphones so you could listen, and there would be a pane of glass for you to look through. You told Harry to just look at you whenever he felt his anxiety creep in. Even if you weren't holding his hand, you were there.
Thank goodness this was a one time thing. You already knew Harry was never coming back.
You followed him out of the car, through the flashing mob of paparazzi. Harry kept a firm hold of you the whole time, encouraging you to walk in front of him in case anything were to happen. Once in the building you were immediately met with a bunch of producers, who were explaining to Harry and his team the run down for today. Harry listened politely but you could tell he was still on edge.
The air con was on full blast and you were glad you'd put on an extra layer. You were wearing two shirts, a sweater and a hoodie. You weren't joking when you said you got cold easily.
Harry was ushered towards the recording studio and you were taken to the opposite room. Harry stopped them from pushing him any further and walked back over to you.
"You alright?" You asked, when he paced over towards you.
"Just want a final hug with you, before I die." Harry said in a serious tone. You knew he was only letting you know about how much anxiety he was getting from this interview, because he hated to be seen so vulnerable. He needed you and you were there for him. His band mates were sitting in with him too, so he wasn't truly alone.
Harrys strong, toned, arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you tight, soaking up all your positive energy to make him feel better.
"Love you." You reminded him, still engaged in the hug.
"Love you too." He replied, pulling away and kissing your lips, quickly, a few times. He hated explicit PDA, since he was a very private man, but he knew he could trust everyone in this room right now. He kissed your forehead, once, before heading back over to everyone else, where Jeff was explaining to Howard the extent of what questions he could and couldn't ask. Like Howard would listen though, you thought.
You watched as Harry got all set up, whilst putting on a set of headphones yourself. It was either hot in that room, or Harry was extremely nervous, because his forehead was sweating slightly. It gave him an honest glow though, that you thought complimented his complexion today.
Howard was talking to Robin, who was behind a screen for some reason. Harry was messing around with Adam, who was Harrys bestest friend in that room. You knew having him so close would be an added comfort for Harry. Mitch, also, was like a brother to Harry. Mitch had this aura of chilled vibes and relaxation that beamed off him always, and Harry has always bounced off that - you only hoped he was doing that now.
"Hey L/N." Jeff came and sat next to you. He'd always called you by your last name for some reason. You never knew why, just did.
"Hey." You replied.
"You're very quiet today, everything okay?" He asked, knowing that you normally couldn't keep you're mouth closed. He was often begging you to stop talking, but right now he was, weirdly, missing your constant nattering.
"Just worried about H, you know? He's so anxious about all this." You sighed, looking over at Jeff to see any signs of sympathy.
"I know. Honestly, L/N, if Iknew he was going to be this nervous over it I would never have accepted him into doing it." Jeff explained, trying to make him seem innocent. And he was, but you just liked having someone to blame and at the moment it was a toss between him and Howard.
You looked over at Harry and saw him nervously twizzling in his chair. He looked around the room and then in to the room which you were sat in. You saw the mental struggle behind his eyes and you couldn't do much about it now. You pouted a kiss with your lips and pretended to blow it off your hand for him. You saw his hand move to secretly catch it and he curled his hand into a fist, as if he were clutching on to your kiss and love for moral support.
You truly loved Harry Styles.
••••
"Alright. Look who it is! Look who i'm sitting with. Harry Styles and his whole band." Howard began talking, the recording, live-on-air, button turning a bright red.
You already felt your nerves rise. The sound of Howards voice giving you negative vibes.
"Tell me something about this album. You recorded it whilst you were on mushrooms?" Howard dove right into the deep end.
Boy, was this going to be a long interview.
"I mean I took them to be creative and fun. I never would take them if I was in a bad place." Harry answered.
You knew that Harry had taken drugs only because Mitch had sent you a text one night that said 'Harry's bit his tongue off and it's a mess.' You had been in bed when this was happening and woke up the next morning to find the text. You thought that he had been drunk texting you, at first, but then you boyfriend kindly sent a picture, via WhatsApp, of him sticking out his slightly chewed off tongue - which was then how you found out it had been caused under the influence of mushrooms.
"Yeah I used to take them, back in the 70s, and all they did to me was make me giggle a lot. What did they do to you?" Howard was asking some weird questions - nothing that Harry would get asked on BBC News.
"Same really. Just felt good." Harry stifled a small giggle, probably recalling the night in his head. "Until I bit my tongue off."
"You bit your tongue off? Wow that's hardcore." Howard went wide eyed at Harrys statement, before praising him for losing part of his tongue. How it was an achievement, you had no idea..
"Yeah my girlfriend wasn't too happy." Harry laughed, looking at you through the screen.
"Oh your girlfriend? What's her name, again?" Howard asked, taking a quick glance at you before returning to Harry.
"Y/N." Harry nodded, whilst smiling as he thought about you.
"Y/N, right. Do you play her the album before anyone else?" Howard questioned.
Harry would often play the songs for you as he wrote them. For his debut album, every time he'd finished writing a song he'd play it for you and would get your opinion. You may have been the reason why Medicine had been taken off the album, but that was information you were keeping to yourself.
This album, however, had been different. Harry has told you that this album was a lot more personal and vulnerable, so he wanted you to listen to it as a whole. You only got to hear it once the whole album has been recorded and produced to the highest standard, and was almost ready to release. It had been the best day when you heard it for the first time.
Fine Line was a musical masterpiece. Grammy award winning, you'd say.
"Sometimes, yeah. With this album, uh, she listened to it just before release. I was like so nervous for her to hear it, because I couldn't really change anything at that point." Harry explained.
"And did she like it?" Howard asked.
"Yeah, I think so. I mean, she cried so I took that as a good thing." This caused the band to chuckle, because they had been there when you were hearing it for the first time. They laughed because Harry was underplaying, for your reputation, how upset and emotional you'd gotten. They had to stop playing at Adore You so you could calm down for a minute. It was so embarrassing, but you'd been too proud of Harry to care properly.
You loved the album.
"I, also, heard that you play your music for Stevie Nicks too, before?" Howard moved away from talking about you, for now, seeing as he knew Harry wasn't going to go into too much detail about your life. Harry respected your privacy, unlike Howard.
"Oh yeah. I also played her the new album, uh, when it was finished." Harry nodded his head.
Harry and Stevie had such a tight-knit relationship that was so magical to watch. He was so captivated by her, as she was him. They shared the same music taste, even if they were decades apart in age, and were both huge fans of each others work.
I mean, who didn't love Fleetwood Mac? Not Harry, that's for sure. The man turned up to one of their concerts once with a carrot cake!
"Did you play it to her as a way for you to feel validated?" Howard asked and all you could think about was punching this man in the balls. Harry didn't need to be validated, you asshole, he already knows he's revolutionary.
Whilst the conversation between the two kept running you turned to Jeff.
"Jeff?" You said his name to get his attention.
"Yup."
"You're going to have to hold me back after this interview, because right now I have a few things I want to say to Mr Stern." You threatened, but the thing was you were the most non-threatening person ever. You cried if a bee stung you - even if it hurt like a bitch - just because they died straight after.
Jeff just laughed at you, knowing you were too soft to do anything of the sort, but humoured you anyways. "Of course."
You talked to Jeff a little more and joined the conversation back when Harry was talking about One Direction, and early band life.
"Were you nervous for your X-Factor audition?" Howards voice echoed through your headphones once more.
"I was alright actually." Harry was such a chilled bean, honestly. At 16 years old, if you had to go in the stage, you would've, no doubt about it, fainted. You were not one for crowds and being the centre of attention, so being on the stage would be your worst nightmare. You'd hold a tarantula before getting up on a stage.
"Did you finish high school?" Howard wondered.
"I did. I completed my GCSEs and then I finished. We have the option to take two extra years, but I was already in the band before going." Harry proudly smiled. One Direction were some of the best moments in his life, and he wasn't going to sit an pretend like it's all gone and meant nothing to him anymore.
"Do you regret that?" Howard, stupidly, asked.
"Not at all. I'm so fortunate to have been given the opportunity, you know? School wasn't something that I got along with well anyways." Harry admitted.
You and Harry both had hard times at school, you more so than Harry. Harrys struggles included never quite grasping the concept of certain subjects, which ultimately ended in average GCSE scores. Your struggles were different, in that you were a professional loner and had to suffer through all your teenage problems alone. High school didn't treat you well, and you'd been glad to let it go.
After, initially, meeting Harry, high school was one of the first things you talked about. He'd taken you out for dinner and within twenty minutes you were both laughing over your high school stories. He vouched, though, that night that you didn't have to go through any more of your problems alone - and he still reminds you of that to this day.
"Were you the popular one in school?"
"I mean I had a lot of friends, but I wasn't the popular one." Harry replied.
"What about your chick? Was she in the same high school as you?" Howard rudely asked.
You weren't a chick, for fuck sake.
"My girlfriend wasn't in the same high school, no," Harry emphasised saying girlfriend, defending you, politely, for Howard calling you his chick, "Y/N lived a bit further up North than I did."
Harry looked over to you, as Howard turned towards his script for a second, mouthing 'sorry' to you. He had nothing to apologise for though, so you shook your head at if to reject his apology to which he rolled his eyes at you.
"I mean the things with the looks. Were you considered a good looking guy in high school?" You were starting to question the seriousness of this interview - like how is that a professional question to ask? How is it even relevant?
"I don't think so." Harry answered humbly. He has definitely had a glow up through the years, but he was wrong to think he wasn't handsome in high school. You'd seen pictures of his classmates too, and they weren't even in Harrys league back then - let alone now.
After showing Harry pictures of you in high school, he claimed that he would've been all over you. He assured you that, if he had been there, you wouldn't have ever been alone. He would've driven you to school every day, he would've asked you to prom and he certainly would've made you his girlfriend - apparently.
"I doubt that." Howard replied, and that might've been the first thing that he'd said that you agreed with, and didn't want to rip your hair out over.
"I had a bit more timber on me back then. I used to work in a bakery, so that didn't help." Harry joked. If you got given a penny for every time you'd personally heard Harry talk about how he used to work in a bakery, you'd be able to afford a private yacht by now. It was his go-to line. Yes, he used it on your first date...
"And you quit that job too when you joined One Direction?"
"Yes."
"I gotta ask," do you, you thought to yourself, "do you hate Simon for putting you in to a band, rather than letting you remain solo?"
Simon. What a guy. Today, you didn't think you disliked anyone less than Howard but he'd just reminded you that Simon Cowell existed. Harry knew of your hatred for the man, as it wasn't something that you were scared of speaking out about. Simon made the boys lives a living nightmare throughout the band, and not once did he stop to question whether they were okay mentally. No wonder Zayn left.
"No. I was never really a solo man. I was just so happy to be there and through to the next round, you know? We didn't have much time to focus on what could've been."
"And what about the attention?" Howard asked, and you knew he was leaning towards talking about girls, exes and relationships. This was the part of the interview that you'd been dreading the most.
"What about it?" Harry laughed, finding the question too open ended for him to talk about something. He fiddled with his ear, something you'd defined that he did when he was uncomfortable.
"How do you cope with all the attention from girls?" Howard specified.
"Oh, I mean I take it as it comes. I always try to make time for fans. Their love and support means a lot to me." Harry answered like a pro, skirting around the question.
"You live like a King." Howard began, and you already knew this section of the interview was going to go downhill.
"Hmm." Harry mumbled, not agreeing but neither disagreeing. He did live like a King, and he knew it, but he felt no reason to need to boast about it.
"You could have anything you want. You know? You got money, you got youth, you've got your looks and you got talent. You could fuck over every woman on the planet, but you seem like you're able to say no to yourself. Am I right about that?" Howard had some nerve saying shit like that.
You turned to look at Jeff and shake your head at him whilst laughing slightly, finding it funny how disgusting of a man Howard was being. If you didn't laugh you'd surely do something you'd regret. As soon as Howard said what he did, you noticed Harrys face drop entirely and squint at him slightly, probably trying to keep his cool.
Howard knew he had a girlfriend, you, and yet still said crap like that. It was wrong. It objectified and exemplified women in a way that you fought so hard in the movement against.
"There is just so much gossip in the industry. So many stories about people saying and doing weird things, and I just didn't want to become one of those people." Harry said, only you noticing the slight dig at Howard at he said that. To you, what Harry has just said was very loud in the way that he was clearly talking about Howard, but Howard was too obnoxious to notice.
"So is it dangerous when you date a woman? Cause no matter what the ending of the relationship, the papers are going to make you look like the bad guy. Does it cross your mind that they could be using you?" Howard was making it impossible for you to ever like him right now.
"I don't ever think of it like that. I think it'd be wrong to. I don't read the papers anyway, so it doesn't really bother me anymore." Harry answered like the true gentleman he is.
"What about your girlfriend now? You sure she's not using you?!" Howard laughed, obviously thinking what he was saying was a joke, you thought otherwise.
"What a prick." You heard Jeff say to the side of you.
Howard brought something up that you were heavily insecure about. Something that Harry knows about too. You couldn't care less if the papers called you fat, you knew you weren't. You couldn't care less if they said you were cheating on Harry, you'd never. You did care, though, about the way they made you seem like you used Harry for monetary purposes.
You'd been accused too many times of 'using Harry' for your own benefit. Taking his money, letting him buy you gifts, paying off small debts, etc. It was far from the truth the media portrayed though.
You were made out to be this money grabbing, gold digging, whore, but in reality you stayed up late working just to pay off weekly heating and electricity bills. You skipped out on important events, such as your birthday, so you could work over-time to save up enough money to buy Harry a present for his birthday or Christmas. You were nothing like the media set you up to be, and it hurt that Howard would judge you, like that, the same way everyone did, before even getting to know you.
"Y/N's nothing like that. I get told off when I buy her anything, and not because she's ungrateful but because she despises me spending money on her. Y/N pays her own bills and is currently holding down 3 jobs. I know she's not using me, just the same way i'm not using her." Harry put firmly, you could hear the anger in the back of his tone. You knew when people talked shit about you he got mad.
"My apologises." Howard raised his hands in defence, but you knew and he knew that it wasn't sincere at all. Howard didn't care, he just wanted the scoop.
"Mhm." Harry responded quietly, catching sight of you discreetly trying to rub away a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. He just wanted to give you the biggest hug and kiss right now. Only 30 minutes left and he could - and half of that time would be him singing with his favourite people.
Harry made a mental note to shower you with extra love this evening.
"I wanna talk to your band a bit. You all having fun? Is Harry paying you enough?" You know when someone is trying to be funny, but it just comes across as lame - that's a good way to describe this moment.
"Don't - don't say anything." Harry ordered his band mates, but they all know he was joking. His band mates laughed at Harrys joking behaviour rather than Howard's, as did you. The only thing you laughed at about Howard was his, b-tech, Bob Ross inspired hair.
"Introduce me, Harry." Howard requested.
"Sure." Harry turned to Nyoh first. "This is Nyoh."
"Hi!" Nyoh speaks in her foreign accent.
"And what's your role in the band?" Howard asked.
"I play keyboard and help in backing vocals." She said before sitting back down at her piano stool, as Harry spun a bit further to the right to face Adam.
"Hi. I'm Adam and I play bass." He nodded his head.
"Sarah Jones and i'm the drummer."
"Hello. I'm Charlotte and I sing and play the piano." Charlotte waved at both Howard and Robin.
"And last?" Howard asked, before Mitch could speak.
"But not least." Harry chipped in, making Mitch laugh at him. Mitch was his right-hand man and didn't want him thinking he was anything less than that.
"I'm Mitch and I play the guitar." Mitch responded in his cool and calm tone. He sounded like he was constantly meditating - it was so soothing.
"Wonderful." Howard applauded them all before speaking again - which you wish he didn't. "Do all the ladies here love Harry?" Really, this again? Howard clearly wanted to find out whether the women of the band were involved romantically with Harry, but why would they be when he has you? Idiot.
"Yeah." They all answered in union, agreeing because there was a platonic love between every member of the band.
"Charlotte, are you in love with Harry?" He singled out Charlotte and you felt so sorry for her. The band weren't media trained mega-stars like Harry, so they didn't want to say the wrong thing accidentally.
"I mean, Harry has Y/N, and I also have my own boyfriend, so it'd be a bit awkward if I did." Charlotte answered, making everyone laugh. You would've normally, but you were feeling a little low ever since Howard started talking about you and Harry, and his relationships with other women.
Uncomfortable, was a good way to describe your emotions right now.
"Let's just talk about fame, quickly, before we get to hear you sing." Howard started. Harry hates the word fame/famous. You'd never met someone who was as humble and as down to earth as your Harry. He acted like he didn't have +31M followers, a Billboard No.1 hit, a potential Grammy and a shrine for where he was sick, to his name. "You were held at knifepoint on Valentines day recently."
"Yeah, that's right." Harry replied.
"And why - what happened?"
"I was walking back from a friends house and there were this group of guys, and as soon as I saw them looking at me I just thought, 'shit'." Harry started and continued to explain the eventful evening.
You remember the evening clearly. You were waiting for him at his home, and it was only around 7:30pm in the evening. You'd told Harry that your boss wanted you in work that day, so your Valentine's day plans would have to wait until the evening. He had texted you, saying he was walking back from Josh's, and that he had an evening planned of heavy romance for the two of you - which meant The Notebook and Ben & Jerrys ice cream.
It got to 7:45pm and he still wasn't home and it was only a 5 minute walk from Josh's, so obviously you were worried. You texted him - nothing. But when you called him you didn't hear Harrys voice but rather a group of voices. You immediately put your screen recording on to record the call, but made sure you were listening for any detail of where he was.
When you realised he was being held at knifepoint you started crying, because you were scared for him. You told yourself not to worry, but you didn't listen either. You wanted to go out an find him, and help him, but you know that would only make the situation worse.
It was 8:04pm when he finally arrived home. As soon as he burst through the door you hugged him so tightly that you could've snapped one of his ribs. He was in your arms though. He calmed you down and just held you for ten minutes, or so. You should've been calming him down, but it turned out you were more shaken up than him. He wasn't physically hurt, which was the main thing.
"And Y/N?" The mention of your name pulled you away from the horrible scene that was replaying through your mind.
"She was at home actually, thank God," his words making your heart beat a little faster, "Y/N had actually recorded what the guys were saying, because she'd called me, which was good evidence for the police." Harry smiled at you proudly.
"Got a good girlfriend there, Harry." Howard mentioned, but still didn't make up for the conversation he'd had earlier about you.
"I know." You caught Harry blushing, which was so adorable.
"Okay. So you're going to sing for us now, yes?" Howard moved his scripts of paper, since he no longer needed them, and clicked a few buttons on the dashboard.
"Please." Harry rushed to answer, probably because he was so over being interviewed by this man.
"What are you going to play for us first?" Howard asked, so he could introduce it professionally.
"Um, this is Adore You." Harry looked around, everyone standing and getting into positions. He made sure his band mates were ready before the chords start playing.
••••
Several hours later and you were back home with Harry.
After the worst interview ever, Harry didn't stop until he'd run out of the room to give you the hug and kiss he wanted to give you. He'd firmly said to Jeff that he was never doing this again, to which Jeff definitely agreed and explained to Harry he'd told Howard he wasn't allowed to ask him the majority of things he did.
Harry was angry and just wanted to get out of there before he started an argument with Stern.
It was around 8pm now and you and Harry were lounging on the couch. The sofa was wide enough for two people to lay side-by-side, and yet you two still managed to lay on top of one another. This time you were on top of Harry. He was holding on to you tightly as you both watched Countryfile - also known as quality British television.
"You alright, baby? You're so quiet." Harry mumbled against the side of your head, which wasn't facing him but the screen where some sheep were running around.
"I'm okay." You softly answered, barely watching the TV anymore. Your mind was so focused on Howards show and the way that he talked about you, that it was hard to focus on anything else.
"No you're not baby. Tell me what's wrong." Harry could see straight through you. He knew when something was wrong, always. Even if it was just that you had a bad headache he'd know. He always knew when you were on your period and helped you through the struggles of that. He was too good at knowing your emotions that you almost hated it, because it meant at times like this he knew something was up.
"I just.. No it doesn't matter." You closed your eyes and tried your best to contain your tears.
"Please, Y/N/N." He moved your head so that you had to face him, sitting up on the couch so neither of you gave yourself neck cramp. "Is it about the interview today?"
You just nodded at him with sad eyes.
"It's stupid, I know." You rolled your eyes, knowing he might think you're being daft.
"Not at all." He shook his head at you. "I think that the things Howard said, about you, were abhorrent and i'm sorry you had to listen to it." Harry stated, needing you to know that you had a reason to be angry about this. Hell, even he was angry about this. So much so that he's thinking about writing a letter.
"I know I say that I don't let the media get to me, but there's just something about them saying th..that i'm using y-you that I find hurtful." You started to choke up and found it harder to get your words out. A few tears fell down your face, but Harry cleared away every single one without a trace they'd been there.
"It's alright, angel. I mean, it's not alright that they say that bullshit, but I mean it's alright to be feeling the way you do. I don't think any less of you." He kissed your lips gently, and then another.
"Okay." You whispered.
"I mean it. You're so much more than they'll ever say. You are my other half, my better half - even Mitch thinks so. I know you don't use me and I never have thought you have." He assured you.
"Thank you Harry." You smiled sweetly, appreciating the man below you a shit tonne more than he'll ever comprehend.
"It's okay, love. I love you."
"I love you too."
The rest of the evening gets spent embraced against each others bodies stealing kisses here and there, but mainly just Harry randomly expressing how beautiful you are and all the future plans he has thought out for you both.
In the eyes of the media you were something, but in the eyes of Harry hit were everything. That's all that mattered.
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onefineangel · a month ago
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—CHRISTMAS LOVING—
SUMMARY: This Christmas y/n wakes up to the feeling of her husbands wandering hands rather than to the sounds of patter of tiny feet along the floorboard and so they take it to their advantage.
PAIRING: Dad!Harry || WORD COUNT: 2.8k
A/N: This is passionate love making that will for sure have you melting so if you enjoy it please remember to reblog to show your support
Press [x] for any links/visuals for this fic! xo
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∘₊✧─── The feeling of soft fingers tracing over Y/ns stomach was what had woken her up on Christmas morning, it wasn’t the usual patter of tiny feet along the floorboards and that made her sign contently, knowing she still had an hour or two before the shenanigans of Christmas began.
The familiar scent of her husband washed over her, filling her senses making her let out a shaky breath at the feeling of him pressing closer. A shiver works through her as Harry continues to make delicate little patterns on her exposed skin, Y/n loved waking up next to Harry. It was comforting and well, incredible.
His lips move to press on y/ns neck, making her suck in a breath at the feeling, her eyes slowly opening. Their room was still dim, a faint light glow of the snow falling, just starting to filter in through their windows.
Y/n loved Christmas in London, the cold and snowy weather truly adding to the festive spirit. [x] Plus she loved having the kids play around outside and being closer to Harry’s family so that they could spend the festive season with them as well. It was just the best time.
Harry takes Y/ns earlobe in between his teeth, cutting her thoughts short, he bites down ever so slightly making her tingle. “Mornin’ peach” he whispers, his morning voice raspy, as he tightens his arm around her, pulling her impossibly closer towards him. Every inch of their bodies was pressed together.
“Morning” she mumbles, words beyond her as she slowly starts to grind against Harry, his morning wood making its appearance aware. She revels in his fully aroused state and turns around to face him. Harry inhales sharply once Y/n begins to move her fingers down his bare chest and towards his hard-on, his fingers falter for a second but he regroups nicely, moving forward and taking her lips in his own. He kisses her passionately, tongue getting lost in her mouth and eyes fluttering shut.
Harry’s hand slowly slides down Y/ns body, grabbing her hip and then gripping her thigh, pulling her closer towards him as he continues to kiss her with everything he has in him. His lips move with hers intensively and his fingers flex against her, out of nowhere he flips her around so that she’s beneath him.
“Harry, the kids will be up soon” she mumbles against him, her hands now leaving his junk to move up towards his shoulders. She grabs them and despite giving Harry a reason to stop, y/n continues to push her hips up against his.
“Doors locked, we’re fine” he replies hurriedly, as if he can’t wait to get his lips back on his wife, to taste her and to love upon her. She nods, the reason being enough to satisfy her and she continues to kiss him.
They moan against each other's lips as y/n continues to buck her hips up and against her husband, wanting nothing more than to have him inside of her, she wanted to fill his sharp thrusts and hear his deep morning grunts as he pleased her and she pleased him.
Harry pulls back to suckle at her neck, hard but not hard enough to leave a mark because he knew they’d be seeing his family tonight and the last thing he wants is for them to be aware of their activities, specifically their early morning bedroom activities.
His calloused hand travels beneath Y/ns silky pyjama top [x] and grips onto her breast, kneading her flesh reverently as he continues to suck and kiss at her sweet spot, loving the mewls that leave his wife’s mouth.
“Please Harry” y/n cries from the feeling of Harry's fingers slowly pinching and tweaking at her nipple, she hurries him, wanting him now more than ever.
“What do you want baby? Want to hear you say it” he eggs her on, wanting to hear the filthy words of what she wants him to do to her, fall from his wife’s lips. He began to nibble at her earlobe again, grunting against her, giving her even more reasons to speak up and demand her pleasure from him.
“Want you. God, I want you.” Y/n speaks, her voice hoarse but dripping with need.
“Want me to do what?” Harry spoke, his eyes raging with passionate fire, he’d do anything for his wife, anything to hear her soft cries and moans of pleasure.
“Want you to fuck me. Give me my early Christmas present baby” she replies, already pulling her silky pyjama bottoms off and beginning to unbutton her top as Harry hovers over her, his eyes dark, taking in the sight beneath him. He helps her out of them and leaves her there in all her glory, Harry was happy he decided to sleep in just his boxers last night. Y/n said it was stupid, sleeping practically naked when it was so cold but old habits die hard so she understood.
“Give you anything you want m’love. Fuckin in love with you I am” he groans, seeing her exposed breasts as he hovers over her again. His lips go straight to a nipple, begging to tug on it with his teeth and earning a moan to slip from Y/ns mouth.
His fingers begin to slide over her mound, slowly sipping into her making Y/n bite her lip, her back arching at the contact. He pushes his fingers deeper and strokes slowly, her hips begin to move, pushing against him and trying to increase the contact.
The heel of his hand presses against her and she throws her head back at the feeling of warmth against her tiny bundle of nerves. Harry thrusts his fingers into her a few more times before pulling them out and taking his dripping fingers into his mouth, sucking them dry. “Fuckin insatiable” he groans, before kissing Y/n and getting rid of his own boxers, freeing his aching cock.
Harry reaches over into the bedside drawer and pulls out a condom, he sits on his heels and slides the condom on all whilst eyeing his wife with filthy thoughts in his mind.
He knew he had to wear a condom, y/n had a baby that year and didn’t get time to go back onto her birth control. Sure she breastfed which could help prevent a pregnancy from occurring as Y/ns period hadn’t returned yet but he just didn’t want to risk it. When Y/n was pregnant with Poppy, it was seriously the dream pregnancy and felt like a breeze compared to her pregnancy with Cruz which took everything out of her and knowing how hard it had been on her, Harry knew it wouldn’t be ideal to get pregnant so soon after having him.
He slowly climbs back over her, nestling himself in between his wife’s legs and keeping himself braced on his elbows. He looks down at Y/n and she swallows heavily, moving forward to take his face into her hand, Y/n kisses him. Even though Y/ns body is running on high voltage for her husband, the kiss is slow and deep. She feels him nuzzle against her hands, his morning scruff tickling her skin.
“I love you so much” he groans, shifting his hips on top of her creating little jolts of frictions. She returns it and he reaches down to capture her lips into his again and this time, y/n can feel him reach in between them to grab his erection, he rubs the head over her wet pussy a couple of times making her wrap her legs around him, crossing her ankles over his thighs to keep him close to her. Harry breaks away from the kiss and pressed his forehead to Y/ns as he breaths heavily.
Once he manages to push his hard cock inside of her, they both let out collective moans revelling in the feeling of being so close and intimately towards each other. Harry doesn't move once he's inside of her but just resituates himself so that they were flush against each other again. Y/n shifts her hips a little, trying to get a reaction out of him but all he does is smile at, brushing the hair back from her face. Making y/ns heart flutter in her chest. He leans in and kisses her again, his mouth moving slowly against hers just as he begins to move.
“So impatient for me love” he taunts making her buck her hips up towards him, Harry chuckled against her. Before he begins to move again, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back into her slowly. Her eyes roll back at the exquisite and euphoric feeling of having him inside of her.
He pulls out and moves back into her just as slowly as before, setting up a rhythm that makes her toes curl. Y/n loved the missionary position, it allowed for her to be close to Harry and to feel him everywhere, he also knew how to hit all the right spots in this position which was just amazing.
Y/n wraps her feet over his calves and let’s out a shaky breath at the feeling of Harry’s continuous torturous pace, his rhythm never faltering. She tightens her inner muscles around him, trying to be an active participant. He moans low in his throat and readjusts his grip on her, holding her closer.
Y/n runs a hand through his hair before grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back down to her. She kisses him, moaning in it and bucking her hips up whilst meeting his thrusts. Her other hand goes down to his ass, trying to pull him into her faster but he just reaches down and grabs her wrist, moving it over her head showing that he wants to take things slow and love up on her a little.
Harry’s fingers lace with Y/s, squeezing her hand in time with his movements. His other hand slides down to the small of her back, pressing there gently until it changes the angle of her hips. She gasps and breaks away from the kiss, feeling him rub against her g-spot. "Oh, God!" She exclaims, clutching onto his hand tighter. He breathes heavily as he looks down at her; he doesn't speed up but he does thrust a little harder.
"There," she breathes heavy, panting at the feeling of Harry’s cock hitting all the right places inside of her.
"Right there."
Harry nods and releases her hand, wrapping his arm under her shoulders. He kisses her again, keeping it gentle this time, then he presses his forehead to hers.
“Couldn’t have asked for a better wife. I’m head over heels in love with you” Harry moans, he just couldn’t believe he was making love to his wife on Christmas morning, he thought he’d never get to experience this. Being famous often meant getting taken advantage of, people only used you for clout but Y/n came and changed that for him and Harry thanks his lucky stars for that.
“I’m head over heels in love with you too” Y/n mewls as electricity sizzles in her extremities, and a tiny shockwave rushes through her body. She feels herself go taut and grab onto his shoulders.
"Ah fuck," She moans, unable to help herself.
Harry doesn't falter in his pace, keeping up the same smooth, deep motion he's been using since the beginning. His mouth falls open a little as he breathes. His skin is damp with sweat as leans down again, bypassing her mouth and kissing her neck, as he begins to move faster.
She’s seeing stars as Harry continued to thrust into her, he’s straining now, his face flush and his breaths coming in short gasps as his fingers dig into y/ns skin.
With a few more of Harry’s thrusts, y/n let’s go, her body jerks and tightens as she stares into Harry’s eyes, the prolonged eye contact making her head dizzy as she spins out of control. Y/ns mouth drops open but no sound comes out. She digs her nails into his back as an orgasm explodes through her, her body moving unevenly, her hips trying to push against his faster. He finally moves the arm from under her shoulders, using his hand to push the hair off her forehead.
Harry drops his head down, his lips near y/ns ear. "You're so beautiful. Y/n, you're so damn beautiful" he says as he continues his ruthless pace, thrusting into her repeatedly, desperately chasing his own high.
“Oh God, Harry” she cries out as the peak of her orgasm hits her and that’s when he falters, his hips starting to stutter, moving into her unevenly. Harry buries his face into her neck, the pillow beneath Y/ns head muffling his moans as he cums into the condom.
Harry’s body starts to go limp, his muscles shaking beneath Y/ns fingertips. He pumps into her a few more times and she feels a couple more waves of ecstasy course through her veins. She strokes his damp skin as he lies on top of her.
He picks his head up, looking at her through bleary eyes. For a few seconds, their chests heave in tandem, expanding and contracting in unison. She reached up and grabbed his face in her hands, pulling him to her and kissing him deeply. Harry wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly as he shifts them onto their sides.
He pulls out slowly, tossing the used condom into the bin beside their bed all whilst breathing heavily. “That was amazing” he whispers and Y/n nods, not trusting her voice right now especially after all that moaning.
“Merry Christmas my love” Harry says after a few minutes of laying in each other's arms, cuddling and loving the feel of each other's skin.
“Merry Christmas Harry, got to say, this was the best Christmas morning ever” y/n chuckles making Harry grin.
“I’m that good in bed?”
“The be-” before y/n could even finish the sentence the baby monitor crackles and soon the room is filled with quiet cries of Cruz and next they hear the soft patter of tiny feet along the floorboard making the couple chuckle.
“Which one will you take?” Harry asks, as he sees y/n untangle herself from him and move towards the bathroom to clean up and put some clothes on. He gets up himself and puts a fresh pair of Christmas pyjamas on [x] making a mental note to shower after he gets whichever kid he goes to, to settle.
“I’ll go with Poppy, you take Cruz. It’s probably his nappy as I fed him a few hours ago so he won’t be hungry” she replies from the bathroom and Harry slowly leaves the room, the sight of his three year old, dressed in her cute little Christmas pyjamas, running up to hug his legs making him smile.
“It’s Christmas papa!” She says, excitedly making Harry chuckle sweetly at her little lisp and at how excited she was. He leans down to press a kiss into her hair.
“It is! Merry Christmas my little popstar” Harry wishes her and she hugs and kisses him making his heart melt.
“Mamas going to be coming out in a second, be a good girl and wait for her over here. I’ll go check on your brother” Harry speaks, making Poppy nod and wait patiently by her parent's bedroom door, she hugged her little bunny teddy [x] that Anne knitted for her as she waited.
Y/n came out of the bedroom in her matching Christmas pyjamas with Harry, a few moments later, and leans down to greet her daughter. “Morning baby, merry Christmas! Are you excited?” She asks and Poppy nods jumping up and down, showing just how excited she really was.
“Merry Christmas mama!” Poppy quickly leans over to press a kiss to her mother's cheeks making y/n return the cute gesture.
“Well let’s go downstairs and start with Christmas breakfast! The quicker it’s done, the quicker you’ll get to open your presents” Y/n speaks, the joy clearly visible in her voice as she stands and takes her daughters hand and guides her downstairs.
She’s met with Harry downstairs who’s playing with their son and the two exchange a small smile, he comes over and kisses both his wife and daughter, thanking his lucky stars once again for his amazing family. This was for sure a great start to a very happy Christmas full of lots of joy and love ───✧₊∘
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heartbreakweatherharry · a month ago
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the final show (h.s)
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→ requested: no
→ warnings: none!
→ author’s note: here’s this little piece i threw up about the final show! maybe thinking of doing a part two but it’s their life after tour has settled down, let me know if you’d like that !!! enjoy <3
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Harry sat in front of the vanity in his dressing room, staring at nothing in-particular, a sinking feeling present in his stomach. The tour he spent at least two years planning and anticipating, 42 shows, 32 cities— after tonight, it was all over.
“Knock knock,” from the doorway. He averted his eyes to where Y/N was standing, a bouquet of flowers between her hands. “Hey, you,” she softly spoke, shutting the door behind her, “I got you a little something.” Setting the flowers down on a nearby coffee table, “how’re you feeling, bub?”
Shrugging, “dunno. ‘s bittersweet, I guess.” He fiddled with the rings on his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip as he eyed Y/N’s path to the sofa. “Not sure what ‘m g’na do when ‘s all done.” With a sigh, Harry rose to his feet, boots clicking with each step towards his girlfriend before slumping down next to her, head gently falling into her lap, careful not to mess up his hair. “‘nd I don’ know when the European leg is g’na be,” he rambled, eyes skirting around the expanse of the ceiling, softly adding, “I just… I don’ wanna feel lost again.”
Y/N frowned, lightly tracing the tattoos on his arms. “I know, baby,” whispering before, “I’m not gonna lie to you and promise you that you’re not g’na feel that way again, because I don’t know that. What I do know, though, is that I’m g’na be right beside you through whatever is thrown your way.” Harry released a shuddering breath, nibbling his bottom lip as he finally met her gaze. “And I’ll do everything in my power to make you the happiest man alive, H. I can promise you that.”
“Thank you, angel,” voice wavering, “I love y’so much more than you’ll ever know.” He sat up, shifting to face his lover before gently pressing their lips together, a finger tilting her head up ever so slightly. “And,” after pulling away, “y’already make me the happiest man alive, baby doll.” Leaning forehead to forehead with eyes closed, he took a deep breath as a knock came from the door.
“Welcome to the final show, Harry,” Jeff shouted from the hallway, “it’s time.”
Taking Harry’s hand, Y/N stood them up from the leather sofa, escorting him to where his manager stood waiting. With one last quick peck to his lips, “go get ‘em, rockstar.”
-
“Good evening, Long Island, and welcome to the final night of Love on Tour,” Harry spoke into his microphone, “how is everybody feeling tonight?” An overwhelming cheer came from all around him in return.
“Lovely. Now, tonight, the band and I have one job: to entertain you as best we can within 90 minutes. And you,” moving across to the other side of the stage, “have one job as well; you are to have as much fun as you possibly can.” He brought the mic away from his lips for a brief moment, pointing back to where Y/N stood with a few of his crew members, mouthing ‘especially you’ as his girl blew kisses back.
Closing out his nightly spiel, “again, welcome to the final show. I hope you’re all wearing your best clothes.”
“Here we go!”
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chaashni · 3 months ago
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Kiss Me More
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Warnings: Smut. Pornstar AU. Pornography and some cutesy shit.
Kinktober: Day 14 Prompts: Bunny Mask and Tails + Pronstar AU + Harry Styles
'Meeting tomorrow 10 am at my office. Be on time.'
It worked.
You gazed at Jeffery's text for a few minutes, contemplating on whether or not you should shoot Harry a message. He and Jeffery were supposed to be the best of friends, and the only way your boss had agreed to schedule a meeting and a possible shoot was because Harry had spoken to him.
You exit the messaging app, opening your instagram. A host of dm's awaited you, ones which you did not bother checking, quickly scrolling down to the last conversation with Harry.
"You up?"
He wasn't online, and you did not expect him to be. Despite having one of the strongest following among all the actors you knew, Harry wasn't one for too much of social media. He used to be, back in the days of college when you didn't have much idea about him other than the fact that he was this chocolatey male model who slept around a lot, the typical fuckboy.
Stupid stereotypes.
Now here you were, freshly out of college with a degree in music theory, the lack of jobs and opportunities in the field only striking you when you had graduated and found yourself struggling for bills.
Filming porn was easier.
No. It wasn't. Not at all.
A lot of connections, calling up old friends, a lot of unwavering resolve and you had gotten a few producers who were ready to cast you in their projects. It was hard work, but you were climbing up, getting around to a decent following. The amount you made was more than enough, and you had made a few good friends too.
You had reconnected with a few old ones too. Like Harry.
Okay.
He wasn't your friend. He was a guy you gazed at from the distance, eying him up and down and checking him out in your own discreet fashion. You never approached him, your six-two hunk of a boyfriend with a bucket full of insecurity and arrogance being one of the prime reasons. You wished you had, you really did, especially when your boyfriend of six years, your best friend from your highschool days, dumped you over a text.
You had one clip of yours on pornhub and a half-shot film in your hypothetical bag when Jeffery had invited you to one of his parties. You had strung along, pleasantly surprised to find a familiar tuft of curls and the sharpest jawline you had even seen.
Harry had cut his hair short.
Last time you had seen him he had beautiful locks, strands tumbling way past his shoulder, sometimes held together by a clip, sometimes collected in an easy bun.
His charisma remained.
He hadn't even looked at you and you were smoothening the ends of your dress, carding your fingers through your hair and puckering up your lips, trying to pretend like you weren't as disheveled as you felt, a burst of butterflies exploding in your chest.
Wow. Is that what they call 'The Harry effect?'
The Harry effect worked wonders. You had a short conversation with him that night, pleasantly surprised to find out he remembered you, even more surprised that he was such a gentleman. Throughout the conversation, he carried himself gracefully, a warmth in his eyes which made you feel all tingly on the insides, happy vibes flowing from his dimples and settling on your skin.
His voice, you realized, was something which could persuade you to do anything. Shave your eyebrows off, slam your boss's face into a cow's behind. The list could go on and on.
His voice could make you cum right on the spot.
You had heard it from your device before, in the dead hours of the night when you would be touching yourself to sleep, rubbing circles to your clit in the same rhythm with which Harry pounded into someone on the screen, your cunt throbbing as you imagined him behind you, his juicy thighs flexing and veiny hands wrapping around your throat as he took what he wanted, wrecking your insides and making you feel good about it.
Having that syrupy baritone directed at you, even though it was what is called a civilized conversation between long lost acquaintances, you could not stop the filthy images from raking in your mind. Almost on autopilot, you started taking in his fingers, huge rings fit snugly around perfectly sculpted fingers, the veins a dewy blue and in perfect alignment. His hands were perfect.
You could use some perfection wrapped around your neck.
The five minute conversation made you feel hot, beads of sweat dripping down from the turtleneck of your little bodycon dress, beads of perspiration matting your hair at the nape. Don't they say a man is at his sexiest when he pays attention?
Harry made you feel craved. Valid. Wanted.
It was too much. When he clasped your hand, another circling around your waist and pulling you into a light hug, you were sure you would explode. You would do something stupid, like take in an embaressing waft of his cologne, or moan out or have your juices leak down your thighs.
You weren't even wearing panties the first time you had met him.
"And babydoll," he interrupted you, surprising you by calling you by the first bit of your snap username, the name you were commonly referred to by your fans. You gasped as you sized him up, leaning back a little as he twisted his rings around his fingers, the teeming lights of the party fading to a distant bokeh as his handsome face occupied your vision. He leant in, a hand placed around your waist to keep you steady, his nose dipping downwards. He dusted his lips over your brow, fireworks exploding all over your lips, expecting him to kiss you.
He didn't.
He dragged a knuckle down the apple of your cheek, whispering, "you look very pretty tonight." Before he let you go, reminding you to enjoy the party and to stay in touch.
Fucker.
<You should kiss me more>
That little bit of contact had you hot, your cheeks burning and legs quivering as you retreated to the washrooms, entering one of the stalls and slamming the door shut, leaning against the wall. Without even knowing it, you were lifting up the hem of your dress, your fingers seeking the wetness between your legs, your lips caught in between your teeth as a weak attempt to muffle your moans, the embarrassment of needing to get off because Harry Styles spoke to you and touched you driving you closer to your brink.
When you went back home that evening and checked your instagram, you found he had followed you.
Two days later, you saw the fucking green circle next to his icon, a video of him careless lying on a beach with some friends, Jeff and Mitch included.
Wow. Harry was insanely attractive, and you had always associated him to some sex-god and an all around casanova. Seeing him do mundane things, simple everyday activities, all of it just accentuated his charm.
Your crush on him was skyrocking, and you had no grievances.
"Hi."
Your device pinged, the text you had been waiting for flashing across your homescreen. You jumped across the bed, scooping up your phone and nestling your neck against the pillows, a bug smile popping on your face.
"Jeff called for a meeting."
"Really? He asked me too, can you believe it?"
"I can."
You giggled as you replied, picturing him shaking his head and carding his fingers through his locks.
Just like that, some odd fifteen minutes later, you were stretching, applying a face pack and doing all the 'self-care' things, all while shooting back and forth texts to Harry. He had confirmed that Jeff wanted you both to film together, and the meeting to be held the next day was about dishing out the details and getting to know each other better before you get to doing it.
All of this is absolutely crazy. A part of you was fangirling, and on the edge of a freak out. This was a guy you had a crush on back in your college days. More importantly, he was a celebrity. His videos were a big part of your regular nighttime activities, and for a while Harry had been hinting that he had watched your porn too.
You remembered the day you had dm'ed him for the first time, conscious and nervous. Sure, he had sent the follow just that evening, a few hours after running into you at the party, but you were nervous. You were just as nervous when he had facetimed you from one of his hikes, and you were a literal puddle when you had geared up the courage to suggest that you two could film together.
Turned out he had been wanting that too. The quick succession of rescheduling emailed to you by your manager, followed by your boss asking you for an in-person meeting and not some flimsy text was enough proof for that.
Yet, all you could think about was his rings. Those rings were a huge part of his pornography, and his fans loved it. You would happily get in that line.
The next day you ran into Harry on the streets, right outside Jeff's building. He was on the side of the crosswalk, a can of diet coke in his hand.
He drinks diet coke? Like a schoolgirl who has been noticed by a senior, you giggled, slapping your hand over your mouth to stop that excited squeal.
Girl, calm down.
"Guess this is where we say," he smiled widely, dimples popping into his cheeks, a carefree smile on his gorgeous face and just like that, you were a puddle. "Hi, didn't see you there!"
Loud and little whiney, you scoffed at his extravagant tone, letting yourself get swept into his arms for a quick yet flattering hug, joking a little on something which didn't make sense before you were making way to Jeff's office.
Harry was one to knock at doors. Considering the close friendship between him and Jeff, you would have considered he would barge in without a thought, but the thoughtfulness was nice. He even held the door open for you.
This little schoolgirl crush isn't helping. Stay professional.
Jeff had this weird habit of gazing off into space while talking. It was a little nerve-wracking, especially when he would stop mid sentence and take a moment to collect himself, or maybe that was the time he was hit with some groundbreaking production idea which would lead to him shooting out of his seat or flipping his phone and calling the creatives. Whatever it was, it made you want to laugh out loud. Straight at his face. You gave Harry the side eye, amused to find his hand casually slung over his mouth, shoulders thrown back and eyes curved in happy crescents, expression mirroring yours.
Why does he have to be so goddamn cute?
"So, as I was saying…" Jeff started, ribbing the groove of his eyebrows and focussing back on you, a determined glint in his eye as he took you both in. "You'd make a good pair. Harry has got a huge following already, and the internet adores you." He flicked his eyes at you, giving you an appreciative nod. "A fresh face and a fan-favourite one would mean a lot of views. That would mean more engagement and because you guys get along we could have some instagram livestreams and this project-"
"Mate, can you sound any more mercenary?" Harry huffed, the beginnings of Jeff's next words stuck in his throat and then he was staring off in the distance again.
Here we go.
You snorted. Harry sighed. You looked at him. He looked back at you. Jeff gazed off in the distance. You sighed. Harry snorted.
"Y/n," he started. "I know you marked anal play as a soft limit in your contract, but would you willing to give it a go?"
Your lips pursed. From the corners of your eyes, you saw a jump in Harry's neck vein, a blue track delicious popping out as his fingers twitched.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Bunny mask. A tail. A nice collar, a good lingerie set."
Holy shit.
"Seriously Jeff if you turn this into your fetishes and make Y/n uncomfortable-"
"It's not going to be something she doesn't wan-" Jeff jolted up and at the same time you went-
"-I don't mind."
Both the men stared at you.
It was a little shocking. You had kept your pornography determinedly vanilla, the most risque of your filming being when you were getting railed against a window.
Harry's genre was slow and sensual, but filthy. From what you had observed in your late night rendezvous involving your spread legs and a phone screen, Harry loved bringing elements into the equation. It could be the filthiest of dirty talk, the one which could make you cum from words alone, or toys. Or ropes. He often worked with shibari, and you had heard from one of the girls who filmed with him that he managed to stay hard all through the rope work procedure, which made your pussy flutter hard. Not to mention the addition of his rings and the unique print he created each time with the metal bands.
You would like to have a piece of that.
"That's settled then? I'll email you the schedules. Have a good day guys."
Jeff went back to doing the staring-aimlessly-in-the-distance thing.
That is how you found yourself. The set was a bedroom, the script being to keep the setting as traditional as possible. White curtains, pink sheets and a hoard of pillows. In the middle of it you sat, a bunny mask on, hair falling delicately to the sides because they wanted Harry to be able to grab your hair anytime he wanted to. You had six inch heels on, a crotchless bodysuit tied around your body, your breasts hanging loose from the too wide straps. Lips painted a seductive red, faint traces of body glitter and a plethora of lights projected on your face.
A bottle of lube had been poured over your ass, one of the girls helping insert the pink - tailed buttplug. It hurt a little initially, but then it felt good. Especially as you bounced around, shaking your ass at the camera and making kissy and licky faces at the screen.
Another bottle of lube was at the side, some of it already poured over your pussy so there wouldn't be any problem. You sat in the bed on your knees, all prepped up and desperately waiting for them to finish with whatever arrangements were required. You needed to be fucked already.
The setting was hot enough to make you feel horny. Jeff stood there at the side, yelling on his phone. Three cameramen hovered around you, fixing their lenses and lights to capture every light movement that you made, every expression perfected. The room you were filming in was soundproof, so the only sounds which could be heard would be your moans and the sounds which you made when Harry fucked you.
You were nervous.
A delicate fire burned in the pits of your stomach, a slight anxiety fueling into a delicate simmer bubbling over to your skin in the form of drops of sweat. Somebody was kind enough to hand you some tissues, and the people were all busy perfecting what was supposed to break the internet upon release.
You so wished it would.
It would lead to you seeing Harry even more, so sure. You were just praying you wouldn't fuck this up.
Somewhere between your internal monologue, Harry had swept into the room, engaging in an easy conversation with one of the photographers.
However many times you did this, the anticipation of having sex in such a public environment, the excitement of having so many people look at you as somebody just wreaked your insides would never fade away. The gentle burn at getting filmed while you were being filled up, having people watch and get horny and touch themselves to the thought of you, everything just made your head spin and your lips hang open, a streak of drool dripping down.
It just made you insatiable. The idea of doing something like this- the idea of getting fucked in public- even if it was a professional setting for your job, was enough to make your cunt ache. You couldn't explain how much you got off on it, and you didn't even want to, keeping it inside your heart like a twisted fantasy only for you to explore.
"Nice outfit, babydoll." Harry winked at you, touching your cheek lightly as a greeting. A girl behind you was fixing your hair, your stockings perfectly lining against the sides of your thighs and you found him checking you out. Without any discretion.
When were you known to be subtle? You left all of that in college, happily.
You leant backwards, doing a big show of looking him up and down. A translucent black shirt which gave away everything, outlines of his tattoos which you had seemed to memorize in the dead hours of the night seemed to wink at you under the excessive lighting. His pants were high waisted and you wondered why, but considering how Harry has whispered into your ears that he loved to tease, he was going to utilize all fourteen minutes of screentime in completely dismantling you.
You did not have a problem with that.
"Two takes." Somebody yelled. Somebody screamed at Harry to get his hair gelled back, somebody scrambled to fix the ties of your bodysuit.
They started filming with a closeup of your face, your tongue poking out deliciously to slide over your lips, your eyes connected to Harry's who stood behind the camera, twisting the rings around his fingers.
"Did you get all dressed up for me babydoll?" He asked and you nodded eagerly, spreading your thighs and running a hand all over your front, moaning out a "yes."
"So my babydoll is my little bunny today." He hummed, voice clear and raspy, the vibrations brandishing themselves on your skin. You whimpered, flicking your fingers over your nipples in light, teasing motions, hopping about a little.
The mask was a perfect addition. It made you feel so sexy you couldn't help but slide a hand down to your pussy, taking a fleeting look at all the faces gathered around you before you were prying apart your pussy lips, head thrown back in a moan.
A strong hand wrapped itself over your wrist. Harry had undone the button of his pants, the chain slid down and his dick pretty much spilling out, the girth of which got you squirming again.
"Now that's not how it's supposed to be done, right, babydoll?" He cooed, twisting your hand away from your core, kneading your breast and looking you in the eye. "You got dressed up for me. You're my little bunny. So only I get to touch you, right?"
His hand leisurely travelled over your folds, digits lathering your slick all over as you mewled and squirmed, his hold over your boobs keeping you in place. He dipped a finger into you, cursing out at home easily, your cunt clenched around him. "So desperate you are, aren't you."
A guy with the camera moved closer, zooming the lens to capture each expression of your face, sometimes lowering the screens down to how your cunt had swallowed three of his fingers at the moment, his long digits sliding in and out in a rhythm which had you panting and whimpering.
There were people around you. Some of whom you called your friends. Some you hung out with, some who paid you. All of them watching as you were dressed in a bunny's outfit, slutty and seductive, half of your face covered by a black mask, the other half washed in ecstasy. Harry Styles, your college crush and the guy who felt like forbidden treasure, finger-fucking you to the point of delirium, your moans and reactions out for an audience to see.
You could see Harry got off on the exhibitionsim too.
All of this was too hot. You couldn't wait till you would get the chance to jiggle your ass and show your little tail again.
Harry's long digits thrust against your core, a heat burning with each shove as he massaged your walls, your thighs clenching and elbows barely holding you up as you shuddered, your orgasm closer and quicker than you had anticipated. Harry felt it too, and so did so many people around you, because he was slowing down, leaving you clawing and aching for that release, tears pricking your eyes as the high descended, the sharp chime of 'cut' ringing through the air.
You almost fell back in a heap as Harry pulled out of you, your arms giving up but he was holding you up, carefully cradling your face and dusting a kiss against your forehead.
"You okay?" He asked, brushing a teardrop which had managed to crink its way past your eyelids, a heavy sigh and a shaken nod from your end indicating you're fine. You trembled all through the touchups, shivering when the assistant pulled at your hair to fix it. The bottle of lube was squirted over your pussy and spread around, Harry's pants lowering down and his dick out on full display.
<fuck me.>
Filming resumed, this time with Harry fucking you doggy style. It took a few stretches and trial takes, but in the end you both got to a rhythm that suited you well. Made you see the stars, more like.
He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, one of your thighs thrown over the headboard as he slammed into you, a heavily ringed hand kneading your ass. You moaned as the painful sting of the ring bands cut against your skin, the pain so fucking pleasureable you could drown in it.
Harry was groaning. Loud and dripping with pleasure, the sounds of skin slapping as he drilled his cock into you, thighs flexed and crowding yours as you rattled under him, crying from the intensity of his thrusts. He was going hard at it, yet you could feel the burn of passion beyond the stagedness of this act. It was filthy. It was desperate, the touch of his hands skimming the curves of your ass combined with the curses he was unleashing with gritted teeth driving you feral.
You'd be having fun watching the recording of this.
"You enjoying this, little bunny?" He asked, slamming inside you and pausing for a beat before picking pace again. "You enjoy being a little slut for me. Letting daddy use your pretty little pussy to get off."
You moaned. You cried out too when his hips snapped against yours, sliding ahead in the mattress only to be pulled back.
By the tail.
Holy shit. In your sex-induced euphoria, you had forgotten your other hole was stretched too, the sharp burn on Harry's manhandling driving straight to your core, an intense tremor tearing a shriek out of you.
Harry didn't even have to put much force to toss you around. He was strong, his hands easily lifting you up and changing the positions of your legs, maneuvering you so he could get the best angle, all the while your open mouthed moans and cries filled the room, your body growing tense with each buck of his hips.
"You're gonna cum?"
Your face was spilled with tears by now, limbs sore and mind hazy as the camera zoomed around in your peripheral vision, your mind occupied by how good Harry was fucking you and how good he was making you feel.
"I'm going to cum," you cried out, thighs clenching and the knot in your stomach growing as he increased his pace, desperately working for his release and yours.
"Cum for me, bunny." Harry groaned, your legs collapsing at the command as your orgasm shuddered through your spine, white light momentarily blinding you in pleasure. His release spread over the back of your things right after, your body still spasming with the aftershocks of an orgams that had your mind short cirquiting.
"Cut."
The next fifteen minutes went in cleaning up. Lots of tissues, lots of sanitary wipes. The scene was cleared, Jeff all too happy and two assistant sporting proud boners.
"Harry. Y/n. I'm thinking lunch today at that new restaurant? You guys did great."
"As soon as we can feel our legs." Harry groaned, running a hand through his damp curls.
"And take a shower and pee." You added.
"Do it. You did great."
You were near the stalls, a light tee shirt covering your body as you collected a set of towels and soap for yourself. You stepped inside one of the stalls, turning around to lock it when you felt something push the door back, a pink faced Harry Styles entering inside.
"The other shower isn't working," was the only explanation he offered before peeling off that translucent shirt which was fucking with your head right from the start.
"So you're saving time and water?" You asked, pulling away your tee and joining him under the stream of water."
Harry winked at you, flexing the muscles of his taut arms, his wet, tattooed chest leaving sinful ideas in your head.
"Damn right, babydoll."
Maybe this would be the time for him to kiss you. More.
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angelsanddaisies · 3 months ago
Text
Stablehand!Harry x Princess!Reader
-Warnings: Swearing. Light steam towards the end.
Word Count: 1.6k
Enemies to Lovers
Gist: Harry loathes Y/N and she's just a little tease...
Renamed: Love Alone
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It was hot. So very hot. The sun’s brilliance beat down on Harry as he tended to the stable’s lawns. He was sweating, drenching his beige chemise– keep in mind that the chemise was white when he was first given it. He took a look around, making sure that none of the maids or stewardess were around before he pulled his shirt over his shoulders and discarded it over the wood fence. Harry wasn’t ashamed of his body. He knew he was lean and fit due to his duties. He just didn’t want any unwarranted attention at the moment. Or ever really. Harry was quiet for the most part. Sometimes his silence was misconstrued as arrogance or bashfulness but it was neither. Harry simply just didn’t like to talk all that much. Sure he had opinions and thoughts but he just never felt possessed to share them.
Harry heaved a stack of hay and walked towards the main stable house. A greyhound, with a single white spot that covered his left eye trotted after Harry.
“Are you feeling the heat, Goose?” Harry rasped, sweat dripping down his chest, making the straw cling and tickle him.
Goose barked, meandering around Harry’s legs as they entered the stable. In the corner, there was a small kitchen. Harry let the hay drop on a shelf before walking toward the small kitchen in the corner of the room.
“I think we deserve a break, huh, Goose?” Goose barked in agreement, standing on hind legs, trying to reach the shelf where he knew Harry kept the pails of water.
Harry brought down the pail for Goose and he’d barely set it down when Goose’s head had sloshed around, gulping down the water.
Harry sighed, smiling at his dog. “Y’know Goose if anyone saw you, they’d think I starve you.”
“Even before today, I’d always thought that” Y/N said from behind Harry. Just the sound of her voice had his back stiffening and fists clenching.
He slowly turned around, praying that she wasn’t really there. He wasn’t so lucky.
Princess Y/N was a menace in Harry’s life. She stood there in the center of the stables, hands twisted behind her back, puffing her chest out. Harry almost groaned. She was wearing a simple, silk frolic and had tied her corset over the dress instead of under. She left the necklaces open, allowing a peek of her cleavage. She wore brown boots that lace all the way up to her knees, meeting the bottom of her dress.
Y/N wore a coy smile, taking a tentative step towards Harry. Y/N was anything but coy in nature. She was rowdy, immature, much too playful for a princess. Harry would see her skipping around the castle, in her little outfits that pushed the boundaries of acceptable. He would hear her laugh as she played with the village children she invited to the castle for tea every Friday. He sometimes saw her helping the maids with their duties. They would insist that she didn't. It was unbecoming for a woman of her stature to offer her aid. She waved them off, saying “I’ll die from boredom if you do not take me in. You must take pity on me, I am very, very lonely.”
Harry scoffed at that. Y/N couldn’t be lonely because every time he saw her she was charming the guards, the children, the maids, her parents. The worst part was that whenever he saw Y/N, she saw him.
Her round, doe eyes would widen in excitement. She’d immediately make a beeline for him. If she couldn’t then she would shamelessly make eyes at him. Each bling of her long lashes would strike a cord in Harry's chest that he played off as loathing.
So seeing her there, in his space, when he was so hot, and so tired– Well, he was frustrated to say the least.
“Won’t you wish me a good morning, Harry?”
And her voice. Her voice killed him. She spoke softly to him, in a way that pulled him in and made him feel warm inside. Another thing Harry disliked about her was that she made him want to speak. To rant. To snark. It upset him to no end, knowing that she had this power over him.
Y/N took a few steps closer to him. Close enough for him to know that she smelt like vanilla and coconut.
“No?” She faux pouted. She took another step so that Harry could see her ample breasts practically spilling from her corset. “I must say Harry, I had no idea that you were hiding such beauty beneath your garbs.”
In his appraisal of her he’d forgotten that he was still shirtless. He stepped back, putting distance between them. His shirt was still outside so he moved to get around her but she stopped him with her palms planted on his bare chest.
“Oh, please don’t cover up on my behalf, dovey. I quite like this look. I also like the way you feel.” Y/N dragged her hands across his pecks, absorbing his shudder beneath her palms.
She looked up at him, her head tilted back with their height difference. She blinked at him with an innocence he knew she didn't possess.
Harry said nothing. He simply stepped back, making her hands drop. His silence was his only weapon against her.
Ignoring her heavy, dramatic sigh, Harry quickly strode over to the door which he now noticed she’d closed. His jaw ticked. Just what exactly did she think was going to happen between the two of them?
He wasn’t surprised to hear her trailing after while he hastily put on his shirt. Y/N stopped in front of him again.
“Well, Mr. Styles, I’m afraid that I did not come all the way out here to ogle you this morning. I am actually here on important business.”
Harry ignored her, preparing to groom the horses. He began on a white stallion he’d named Mercy. Usually, grooming was the best part of Harry’s day. He loved caring for the horses. They gave him purpose. Of course he couldn't really enjoy it at the moment with his unexpected, unwelcome visitor.
He snuck a look over his shoulder to see that she’d planted herself on the grass, with Goose’s head cuddled in her lap. Traitor.
“I was in the kitchens with Marie Lu yesterday and she mentioned a rumor she’d heard while at the pub the night before.” Y/N paused, as if waiting for Harry to ask her to go on. When he didn’t and simply continued to brush Mercy's mane, she rolled her eyes and continued. “Apparently you and Ramona had a very lively night together…”
Harry tensed. Of course, that’s why she was here. To tease him about his escapade. Y/N was always teasing him. “Why Harry, don’t you look dashing today!” Well, to anyone else they would think she was complimenting him but he knew by the inflection in her voice that he was just a big joke to her. A plaything to rile when she was bored.
“Why are you here? To confirm the rumor?” Harry bit off, refusing to turn back around to look at her. Yes, he had slept with Ramona but it really hadn’t been very “lively”. He'd been at the bar and it was near closing. Ramona was there, eager and willing. She commandeered him into the pantry and he took her there. It was all very mechanical on Harry’s part. He didn’t feel anything for her, just wanted to get his release and satisfy her in return. Apparently, she’d left with a very different impression of their “night” together.
“Not exactly.” Y/N drew out her answer. Harry had had enough of this. He stalked over to her, chucking his brush. In a brave, uncharacteristic move, he knelt down in front of her, still looking down at her even in this position.
“Yes. I fucked Ramona. Is there anything else I can help you with, Your Highness?”
Y/N pushed herself up to her knees so that she could get closer to Harry. She’d never seen him so irritated with her. Usually it was her goal to get a reaction from him but this wasn’t exactly what she wanted today. No, when she’d heard about how incredible Ramona found Harry to be and that she planned on trying to make him hers, Y/N felt a pang in her chest. She was furious. She didn’t want Harry to belong to anyone else but her. Sure, she’d done a fine job at making him hate her but what else could she do. It was the only way to get his attention. And she wanted his attention. Badly.
“After hearing about your prowess, I was very intrigued, Harry. As you know, my marriage is sure to be arranged within the next few months and I think I would like to be prepared to perform all of my marital duties.” Y/N bit her lip, wondering if Harry would make her spell it out.
Harry frowned. He’d expected anything but that. He also hadn’t expected to feel so irritated by the thought of Y/N being betrothed. He took a moment to absorb her words. No… She couldn’t mean…
He couldn’t think straight. She was too close. Smelt too good. Anyone could see them. They were in a fairly suggestive position, with their noses barely touching, her heavy puffs fanning his face. If seen, Harry would be punished brutally for compromising the kingdom’s only princess. Still, he just couldn’t manage to pull himself away, he was locked in her golden gaze.
“And which duties are you speaking of exactly, Your Highness?” His voice came out breathy, strained.
Y/N smirked. Of course he would make her work for it.
She brushed her lips across his cheek, moving towards his ear to whisper, “Well Harry, what I mean to say is, I would quite like it if you fucked me.”
--
Like for part 2.
xx. Daisy.
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darlingsteve · 10 days ago
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