#harry styles x periods y/n

[justlemmeadoreyou]

rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[chaoticloving]

18

harry styles x reader

warnings: mentions of sex

summary: y/n tries to take a pregnancy test without harry finding out, but of course, he does.

a/n: not trying to speak it into existence but lowkey one of my fave tropes is pregnancy scares 😭 i’ve been dying to write this

Harry was leaving in nine days.

Nine days until her boyfriend leaves for his first world tour. And at this moment, while Harry was out in last minute rehearsal, Y/n was sitting on her bed, looking at the ceiling, wondering why the hell she hasn't had her period yet.

Pregnancy was the first thing that crossed her mind. How could it not be?

A part of her doesn't want to ever take a pregnancy test. She doesn't want it to be real. She can't be pregnant at 18, and she knew Harry shouldn't be a dad at 18 too. So would she even tell Harry is she was pregnant?

She was heavily considering it, accept the fact she's pregnant and not telling the father, who will forever be her love.

Y/n and Harry met in secondary school and the relationship bloomed from there. And when the couple found out that the One direction tour was set in stone, they were scared to be apart from one another, so it was about a month after the announcement that they decided to loose their virginities to each other. Of course before this they had already done some things, they just realized that they wanted to do it, soon, before they were apart for several months.

From there they fucked like rabbits. The love shared between them, along with the knew found pleasure, fueled their excessivness. And, now that Y/n was thinking about it, it is more than likley that Harry forgot a condom some time.

"Fuck." Y/n groaned, turning around on her bed. She looked on her bedside table and saw that she had less than an hour until Harry should be back at the hotel they were sharing in central London.

She got up, grabbed her bag, and sprinted out of the hotel room. When she entered the elevator and the doors closed, the weight of what she was doing finally landed on her.

Would she tell Harry? She couldn't. Harry shouldn't be tied down like this at 18. And his carrer, taking off! He wouldn't even have time to care for a child, not the way a parent should.

A small part of her remembered the pre-x-factor days, where Harry told her he would like to be a dad. He said he wasn't ready yet, then at 16, but he wanted to help create a happy home.

But he's not ready yet, and quite frankly, neither is Y/n.

The doors open and she sprints out the hotel lobby, hood up and sun glasses so no one gets a sneaky picture of Harry Styles rumored girlfriend getting a pregnacy test.

She went to the nearest Tesco, grabbed a congradulations card along with the test just so the cashire wouldnt be as judgy.

In less then twenty mintues, she was sitting on the toilet seat, waiting for the five minutes to be up. She didn't notice the tears forming in her eyes, scared for the future. One without Harry.

"Hey babe!" Harrys voice echoed throughout the hotel room. Y/n jumped up and grabbed her test, putting it in her pocket, and grabbing her phone.

Y/n put on a smile, leaving the bathroom like she was doing the walk of shame. "Hey."

"You alright? You look teary-"

Y/n's alarm went off, making Y/n jump and rushed into her pocket to get her phone out to turn it off, but when she put the phone back in her pocket, the test fell out.

Harry and Y/n just stood there for a couple of seconds looking first at the blue test and then they met each others eyes. Y/n's had tears in them, now trickling down her face; Harry's, though, were confused. His eyebrows were scrunched and anyone could see this mind working to understand what that test is, and what it means.

Y/n raced down to get it, to know what the results were, but Harry's reflexes were quicker. He grabbed the test and saw the little screen.

"What." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What does a minus sign mean?"

Y/n started crying. Not happy tears, but not sad. Harry wrapped his arms around his love.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Harry cooed. He tried his best to remain calm, but he saw his life flash before his eyes when he saw that stick—he couldn’t deny that he was feeling uneasy himself. “How long where you thinking that you, we, were—“

His voice trailed off, not sure if he wants to say it.

“I dunno, few days?” She guessed, sniffling a bit and clutching the test that was now in her hands. “I didn’t want to say anything…”

“You should, you always can.” Harry assured. “I mean, I can’t believe you thought you were pregnant and I just left to rehearsal like nothing was the matter!” His raised tone was at himself, angry he didn’t notice something was up.

“Don’t say that.” Y/n sighed.

They were holding each other for a bit which only ment Y/n could think of what happened in the past few minutes.

“H, can I admit something?”

Her voice was soft, more together, but still had a death grip on Harry’s arm.

“Always.”

“If the stick was positive, and I was pregnant.” She paused, not sure if she wanted to tell him. “I couldn’t…make you a father at 18.”

“Love you know I support any of your choices-“

“No, not like that.”Harry gulped, unsure of the next words out of his girlfriends mouth. “I don’t want to hold you back from who you can be. And I think this scare was a wake up call. You need to find out who you are-“

“But I do know.” Harry interrupted. “I love being with you. A baby wouldn’t change that even at 18. If I’m understanding what you’re saying, I’d look for you, and the baby.

“I am not Harry Styles without you.”

“H.” Her voice trailed off and she gave him a quick kiss before tightening their hold on one another. “Even with all it the fame?”

“When I have sold out tours, I’ll always be looking for you in the crowd.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem!reader #1d!harry #harry 1d #fetus harry #harry styles x pregnant!reader #boyfriend harry styles #boyfriend!harry

[lilystyles]

gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings. 

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day. 

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office. 

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work. 

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season. 

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose. 

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!” 

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily. 

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food. 

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face. 

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo. 

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think. 

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh. 

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets. 

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat. 

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm. 

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more. 

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth. 

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently. 

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in. 

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye. 

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh. 

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be? 

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out. 

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes. 

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t. 

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate. 

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.” 

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on. 

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called. 

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her. 

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face. 

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him. 

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head. 

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off. 

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend. 

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall. 

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop. 

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off. 

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car. 

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled. 

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

#harry styles #lilystyleswrites #lilystylesblog #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #lilystyles #harry styles one shot #writing #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry au #harry prompt #harry styles prompt #one direction #1d #harry styles album #meet me in the hallway #sign of the times #carolina #two ghosts #sweet creature #only angel #lhh!harry

[hstylesficrecs]

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#Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Angst #Harry Styles Fluff #Harry Styles Smut #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x you #harry styles x y/n #AOK Masterlist #Harry Styles Angst Masterlist

[harryyskiwii]

Summary: Flight Attendant Y/N meets Captain Harry Styles for the first time and they join the mile high club, sort of.

Pairing: Reader y/n X Captain Harry

Word count: 4,207

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been on holiday the last week and that is what inspired me to write this 🥰As always, please feel free to request anything! Hope you enjoy!

One of the things you enjoyed most about being a flight attendant was the thrill of being able to visit new places, if only for a brief period of time.

You had worked for British Airways for 3 years now and soon you would be hoping to step up to Team Leader where you could help train and look after new flight attendants.

You usually only did short-haul flights out of your base which was London Heathrow and flew across Europe; the longest flight being 6 hours. Short hail suited you, you typically flew to 3 or 4 places within a day and by 1 am, you were back in your bed. That’s if all went to plan. For today’s first flight, you were heading to Dusseldorf in Germany, somewhere you regularly flew to.

You parked your car in the staff area of the airport, changed out of your trainers and into your small black court shoes as driving in heels was never comfortable.

You pulled out your small case from the boot of your car which contained a spare uniform because you won’t be caught out again; on a previous flight a passenger spilt their red wine all over you one time and you had no spare shirt to change into, your water, your lunch because aeroplane food was awful and some spare makeup to top up with in between flights.

You smoothed out your navy pencil skirt, so old fashioned you thought, and tied the red, white and blue scarf around your neck ready to enter the airport.

You headed straight for security and through the fast track lane since you were crew. Once past, you headed to the staff area to check which gate you had to go through to get to the aircraft.

Approaching gate 7, you showed the staff your pass and they nodded and let you go.

You headed towards the aircraft, where you saw the First Officer; Andy doing the pre-flight walk-around. You had flown with Andy for the best part of a year and you knew him well. He got into flying after he fancied a change in career from being in the police. You always liked Andy, he was a father to 2 girls who he adored and always made the typical dad jokes which meant it was normally a good flight with him

“Alright wee one, nice to see you” he smiled at you. “Hey, how are you?” You smiled back at him.

“I’m good, ready for 12 hours of pure joy?” He joked and you laughed. “Always” you replied.

“Who’s the Captain today?” You asked, always fearing if it would be one of the older, slightly rude Captains or one more relaxed and friendly.

“New guy, Styles his name is. Seems like a good bloke, think Daniel already has the hots for him” he winked and you laughed.

You relaxed at the mention of Daniel who you had become best friends with after you had both started the job on the same day. You loved working with him as he always seemed to make the flight go in faster.

“Hey! Am I glad to see you today” you said once inside the aircraft.

“Hey!!” He said hugging you “I’ve not been with you on a flight for ages, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” he said excitedly. You laughed as he always saw working with you as gossip sessions rather than working.

You headed towards the front portion of the plane where the crew placed their bags and got ready for the flight. You glanced in at the cockpit where you saw the Captain sitting doing the necessary paperwork before departure. Although you could only see the back of him you could tell he was wearing his black double-breasted black jacket with the 4 gold stripes on both the epaulettes and the sleeve of his jacket; showing his ranking as Captain.

He had short, dark brown hair which you could tell had been meticulously styled that morning as not a hair was out of place. You had never worked with this captain before, so you weren’t sure what to expect from him; some captains could be so far up their own, you weren’t allowed to speak to them unless spoken so you kept quiet and put your things away and headed back out to the main cabin to find 2 more girls who you didn’t recognise arriving onto the plane.

“Hi, I’m Emma, Team Leader for today. Nice to meet you” the tall blonde girl who was wearing a minimal amount of makeup but still managed to look flawless said to you.

“Hi nice to meet you, I’m y/n” “Lovely name, I’ll go sit my bag down and we can start the briefing” she smiled.

You noticed the other girl who had since boarded, she looked a little more reserved so you decided to introduce yourself.

“Hi I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you” You smiled at her to help relax her. She looked young and a little unsure, she was maybe 18 or 19 years old so you assumed she hasn’t long qualified as cabin crew. You remember how nervous you were for your first few flights so you decided you wanted to look out for her during the day

“Hey, I’m Holly” she said. “Not long qualified?” You asked kindly.

“This is my 2nd flight” she said and you smiled.

“Don’t worry I remember my first couple of flights, it’s nerve-wracking but you’ll soon get the hang of it. There’s no better way to learn than doing it so if there’s anything you need a hand with today, just let me know. I’m always happy to help” you smiled.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your things” You smiled and led her towards the cockpit.

“So you can grab anything you need out of your bag and put it in the fridge if you’ve got a sandwich or anything like that, otherwise you can pop it in here and lock it, we all put our bags in one locker together

“Ahh, I thought I heard some voices. I was just coming to do the briefing” you heard the captain say from behind the cockpit door. You stood up straight and smiled at him coming out.

His eyes fell onto you first and he smiled “Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you” You shook his hand that he had extended for you and took in his beauty. He looked young, maybe 29 or 20. He had green eyes and fair skin which had a slight tan to it, making the dimple on the left side of his face more prominent.

“Y/N, lovely to meet you, Mr Styles”

“Please, call me Harry” he told you and you smiled at how genuine he seemed. Most captains would only allow you to refer to them as Captain and their last name so it was nice to have one who was more relaxed.

“This is our newbie Holly, this is her 2nd ever flight today” you smiled as you introduced the new recruit to him.

“Holly, nice to meet you. I’m Harry, hope you’re settling in well?” He asked kindly as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Styles, yes settling in very well thank you” she sheepishly replied. It always was a bit intimidating to speak with a captain, especially ones you didn’t know much about.

“Call me Harry please” he smiled. “Shall we move to the cabin and start the brief?” He asked and you nodded, moving to the front part of where the passenger seats were located.

By this point, everyone was now in the cabin waiting to start the briefing. The captain introduced himself to the remaining crew members before you all took seats at the front of the plane.

“So my name is Emma I’m one of the British Airways Team Leaders and I’ll be working as number 1 for this shift. Today we’ve got Captain Harry Styles and First Officer Andrew Simmons on the flight deck. For cabin crew today we’ve got Daniel, Holly and y/n, I think we’ve already met each other by now yes?” Emma asked as she pointed to everyone during the introductions.

“Great, it’s a Boeing 777 we’re on today, I’ll let Captain Styles and First Officer Andy talk more about that in a bit. There are a total of 6 flights today; Heathrow to Düsseldorf, Düsseldorf to Heathrow, Heathrow to Las Palmas, Las Palmas to Heathrow and then Heathrow to Venice and Venice back to Heathrow. Full flights on all destinations so we need to be on top of our game in the cabin, Daniel can I ask you to be number 2 today? Holly, do you mind being 3 today and y/n as number 4?”

Number 1 meant you were looking after the passengers in the front of the plane, number 2 was in the middle of the plane, number 3 was in the back section of the plane and number 4 was an additional person who helped the rest of the team, including the flight crew.

You nodded in agreement, secretly glad you were given the position of helping to look after the captain and the FO.

“Captain Styles, do you want to run through your information?” She asked and he straightened up in his chair.

“Yeah sure I’ll just introduce myself a little more since I’m a new face to a lot of people. I’m Harry I’ve been a Captain now for 5 years having previously worked for Ryanair before moving here 3 weeks ago. Please call me Harry because Captain sounds old and although I’ve recently hit my 30s, I’m not quite there yet” This gained a few laughs from the crew, including yourself.

So he was attractive and funny? The more he spoke the more you found yourself more and more drawn to him. He was charming. But not in a cocky way, he seemed genuine and the fact he was a Pilot told you he was smart. Very smart. You always did have a thing for intelligence.

“We’ll be cruising around 30,000 feet once up in the air, weather looks good, clear skies with a 30% chance of light showers. The weather in Düsseldorf is 23 degrees which doesn’t concern us as we’ll have a 20-minute turnover before boarding to come back to the UK unfortunately, bet you wish you’d chosen long haul now Holly?” Harry joked at the fact that although travelling throughout Europe, you hardly ever got to even leave the plane.

You all laughed and Holly agreed. Harry continued with the briefing, telling you about the time durations, and quizzing everyone on emergencies, something which was legally required to ensure all crew knew what to do in the event of one.

“Thanks everyone, I think we can start boarding now” Harry smiled and Emma nodded, knowing to start the boarding procedure.

“Y/N can you help Holly if she needs a hand opening the rear door?” Emma asked and you nodded.

You headed towards the rear of the cabin with Holly behind you.

Once everything was set for boarding, you headed towards the middle of the cabin to help passengers find their seats and help with any luggage they had.

Luckily, boarding took 20 minutes and before you knew it, you were doing the safety demonstration for the passengers while the plane reversed out of the airport and to the runway. You could hear Andy’s voice informing the passengers of the information Harry had relayed to you earlier about the weather etc to keep them up to date.

With the safety demonstration over and having checked everyone had their seatbelts on, Emma nodded to you to signal that you could sit down and prepare for the take-off.

“Cabin crew take seats and prepare for take-off” you heard Captain Styles say and you smiled a little at the sound of his voice.

You sat down at the rear of the plane next to Holly and fastened your seatbelt.

“I’ve done hundreds of flights and I never get bored of the take-off or landing” you said to her quietly as you could feel the plane taxing down the runway.

“I’ve done a handful and still get nervous” she said and you squeezed her hand a little to let her know it was okay to be nervous.

He must have gone from 50mph to about 170mph in less than 30 seconds because before you knew it, you were being hauled into the air with such speed that you swear your heart fell out of your arse. A “fuck” could be heard under Holly’s breath and you laughed.

That was a sure sign of a good takeoff. For a plane to take off at such speed it requires a good sustained acceleration which was exactly what Harry did.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent and good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground? Was there anything this Pilot wasn’t good at?

As the plane climbed into the air, Andy’s voice could be heard over the intercom “Ladies and Gentleman please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the captain has switched off the seatbelt sign. Thank you”

A common command that was often used for eager passengers who would immediately take their seatbelts off as the plane took off the ground.

10 minutes in, the seatbelt sign was switched off and people started to immediately stand up to use the toilets, it always looked like the hunger games you thought.

Because the duration of the flight was only 1 hour and 25 minutes, only the drinks and snack service were required so you and Holly started with that as one of your first tasks, hoping to keep the passengers settled.

Halfway through the service, the alarm which alerted cabin crew to the cockpit was rung and so as the number 4, you left the drinks cart and headed to the cockpit.

You straightened out your skirt and pushed back a few loose strands of hair before knocking and going in.

“Everything alright?” You asked politely squeezing through the small door and inside the cockpit.

“I’m just gonna nip to the loo” Andy said and you nodded, understanding. It was policy that the cockpit operated a “2-person flight deck” which meant 2 people had to be in the cockpit every second the aeroplane was in use.

Andy exited and headed for the toilet.

“Come and sit down” Harry said to you as he glanced over at the seat Andy had been sat in. You moved and sat down in the First Officer’s chair.

“How’s everything out there?” He asked looking over at you. The plane was now set on autopilot meaning it no longer required the captains' manual control, rather a system was being used to control the path of an aircraft.

“Yeah everything’s good, no difficult passengers yet, although what are the chances I’ve jinxed it now” you laugh.

“For the next 5 flights, we’ll have the worst passengers in the history of aviation” he joked and you laughed at his quick white

God, he looked so good sitting there. He had taken off his jacket which revealed a clean crisp white shirt, still showing the 4 gold stripes on his shoulder, but the shirt revealed tattoos. Tattoos which made you feel there was a lot about the Pilot you wanted to find out about.

“Great takeoff by the way” you remarked to him and he smiled lightly.

“Thanks, I’d practised take-off loads in flight school and then just lots of experience I suppose”

The way he spoke was so gentle but also with such passion for his career in his voice.

“What about you, how long have you been in the air for?”

“I’ve been cabin crew for 3 years now, I love it. I was saying to Holly earlier that no matter how many times I fly, I still get the same buzz each time we take off and land”

You watched as his lips turned upwards into a smirk “You’ve not experienced my landing yet, wait until you do”

You laughed at the comment and right on time, Andy came back.

“Fancy swapping jobs for the day?” He joked when he saw you in his chair. You laughed and got up “No thank you, I’d rather not be responsible for 130 passengers” you said and they laughed.

“You guys need anything before I head back out?” You asked them both.

“Could I get a tea if possible please y/n?” Harry asked you politely.

“Of course, how do you take it?”

“Milk and 2 sugars” he told you and you took a mental note of it.

“Nothing for me thanks y/n” Andy said.

You headed back to the cabin, being stopped multiple times by passengers to ask for certain things before making this Captain his tea.

You knocked on the cockpit door and went in.

“Here’s your tea for you” you said handing it to Harry. He smiled and took it off you “Thanks” You headed back to get a Karen in row 21 the G&T she had previously asked for .

“Y/n!” You heard your name being called by the captain from behind the door of the cockpit you had just been in.

You sighed a little, sensing something was wrong and headed back in.

“That’s the best cup of tea anyone has ever made me” he remarked as he smiled at you.

You laughed slightly “I’ll add tea-making skills to my CV then”

“Honestly it’s perfect, I might have to request you on every one of my flights so you can make me the perfect cuppa”

“Right you two, enough with the flirting. Styles we’ve got 25 minutes until landing” Andy jumped in and you and Harry both laughed.

Andy winked at you and you continued with the rest of your tasks.

You arrived in Düsseldorf, with a very smooth landing from Captain Styles at 7:20 am with the next flight at 8 am, giving you a 20-minute turnaround time to get things ready for the next lot of passengers boarding. It was a quick turnaround and before you knew it, you were taking off from Düsseldorf back to London

Landing back at Heathrow at 9:30 am, the next flight was at 10:15 and already there was an issue.

A nervous passenger was starting to feel unwell and wasn’t sure if she would be able to fly to Las Palmas. You and Emma were trying to convince her that the 4-hour and 30-minute trip would be completely safe and she had nothing to worry about.

“I can’t, I can’t fly. What if the plane crashes or falls into the sea? I can’t swim, I will drown and die. I can’t” the passenger who looked no more than 25 said.

“I completely understand your nerves, I can assure you that aeroplanes these days are made to be very very safe and the chances of anything happening are so very slim” you tried to reason with her.

Meanwhile, Emma had instructed Daniel to tell the flight deck what the delay was.

“Hi, I heard we’ve got a nervous flyer?” You heard the same voice who had complimented your tea-making skills say from behind you. The woman nodded.

You looked up to see Harry standing in the cabin, looking to speak with the passenger.

You stepped back and let him crouch down beside her in her seat.

“I’m Harry, I’m the Captain who’ll be taking you over to Palma today. Can I ask your name?” He asked kindly to the passenger.

“It’s Rebecca” she said.

“Okay Rebecca, it’s nice to meet you. So Daniel explained to me that you’re quite nervous when flying?”

“Yeah, I worry the plane will crash or fall into the water”

“Okay I can see why those are concerns, the risk of a crash or the plane failing and falling into the sea is 1 in 11 million. The aircraft is completely safe and in all my years of flying, I’ve never had an emergency on board, well actually I forgot my coffee once which was a real emergency. I’m a real grump without my coffee” he joked and the passenger laughed, as did you at the comment.

“The team are all here to look after you during the flight and if you need anything at all, you can press this button above your head for assistance and they’ll be right over to help you. Does that put your mind at ease a little bit?” He asked still crouched down beside her.

“It does thank you yes captain” Rebecca smiled.

“Good, we’ll be taking off in around 10 minutes so sit back, relax and try and enjoy the flight as much as you can” He smiled and renters back into the cockpit to being the takeoff procedure.

During the flight, the nervous passenger fell asleep halfway through and only woke up when the plane was safely on the ground. Harry came to check on her as she was disembarking and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness in calming her down.

“It’s no trouble at all, you have a good holiday now” he told her as she left the aircraft.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent, good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground and great at calming people down. If you hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, by the next 3 flights, you definitely will have.

Thankfully, the following 3 flights were uneventful, except for the drunken guy who had spilt his crisps all over another passenger which you had to clean up.

The last flight from Venice back to base at Heathrow was welcomed. Your feet were sore, your makeup had half melted off and you couldn’t wait to get your hair out of the uncomfortable bun you were required to wear all day.

After seeing all the passengers off the plane, you started to clear up.

“What a day, thanks for all your help guys” Harry shouted down the cabin as he locked it up for the night.

“No problem Captain Styles, hope to be working with you again soon” Emma said to him.

“Likewise, you guys head off I’m just going to do a walk around” you heard him say.

“Are you sure?” Emma said. “Yeah sure, thanks again everyone” he said once more.

You, Holly, Emma and Daniel started to get ready to leave when you felt Harry’s arm touch yours slightly.

“You stay” you heard him whisper into your ear subtly as you passed him to get your bag.

You blushed and swallowed hard “You guys go, I need the loo” you said to the rest of them.

“Go in the airport” Daniel said and you hinted at him to go.

“Weak bladder, you go I’ll see you soon” you smiled at them.

“Text me later!” Daniel said and you smiled as they left the aircraft.

“Weak bladder eh?” The captain raised an eyebrow at you when everyone was out of sight.

You laughed “I couldn’t think of anything else”

He laughed and smirked at you “I couldn’t help but think about you today. That shitty landing in Venice was your fault, I couldn’t think of anything else”

“I’ll just add ‘distraction to pilot’ on my CV as well then shall I?” You joked.

“You’re such a distraction to the pilot,” he said quietly as he leaned in closer to you.

He cups your face in his hands and he leans in and slowly kisses you. The kiss soon starts to grow more intense as moans echo through the cabin.

He’s started to groan in your ear and kiss your neck up and down.

He pushes you down into a seat in the front row by your hips and he kneels down in front of you.

His hands go up underneath your skirt and start to pull on your tights to reveal your bare legs.

"Harry we can’t do this here." You say completely out of breath already.

“You’re right, the toilet is better. Does this count as joining the mile high club even if we’re not in the air?” He smirked as he led you, barefoot to the bathroom.

For the next 10 minutes, you and Harry enjoyed each other’s company in the toilet as he moved his hips slowly inside of you, each thrust getting faster and faster.

You felt like you might collapse soon and he knew it too so he decided to stop just before you orgasmed and let you out of the toilet.

You sat down in the front row, completely out of breath, a little disheartened he’d pulled out before you orgasmed.

He appeared from the toilet, zipping up his trousers and putting his belt back on.

“Let’s finish at my house” he said and you happily obliged. It was fair to say that night you never got any sleep, despite how tired you had been after your shift.

Thanks to Harry giving you the most amazing sex you’d ever had, you had never been more grateful to be an Air Hostess as you had been that day for meeting your now boyfriend, Captain Harry Styles.

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[jisungsdaydreamer]

Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!” 

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president. 

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte. 

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.” 

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard. 

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him. 

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?” 

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place. 

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista. 

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly. 

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character. 

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.” 

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove. 

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height. 

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you. 

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing. 

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it. 

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush. 

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway. 

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers. 

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited. 

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door. 

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here  over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door. 

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?” 

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?” 

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints. 

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would. 

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.” 

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea. 

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris. 

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking. 

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile. 

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him. 

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.” 

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms. 

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school. 

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell. 

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice. 

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips. 

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!” 

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation. 

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy. 

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now. 

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest. 

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.” 

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be. 

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you. 

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it. 

“You look hungry.” 

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face. 

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt. 

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge. 

Fuck. 

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors? 

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless. 

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you. 

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?” 

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris. 

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception. 

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back. 

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses. 

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been. 

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance. 

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it? 

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris. 

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left. 

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more. 

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it. 

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him. 

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through. 

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself. 

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism. 

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze. 

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great. 

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand. 

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?” 

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him. 

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.” 

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry. 

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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[avatar-anna]

Hey , no pressure of course but I was sooo soo hyped by reading your assistant y/n story teaser any idea when it gonna be out?😭

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

so...i keep thinking i'm done, and then i keep adding more 😬😬 so here's another little snippy!

October 2014

“I just…I just can’t believe she would do something like that.”

Y/n hummed her assent as she carefully sectioned off Harry’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I feel like an idiot,” Harry said. “I thought she really liked me.”

Sighing, Y/n continued to quietly braided his hair as she came up with the right things to say. 

In truth, this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, or one similar to it. Harry had had a few girlfriends in the years she’d been his assistant, but none of them ever seemed to last very long. There was a shallowness, an ambition, that they all seemed to share, something Harry never saw until they eventually broke up with him. He was just so kind, so eager to be loved that Y/n wondered if he really didn’t see he was being used or if he chose not to.

“You’ll find the one, H, I’m sure of it,” Y/n finally said. 

Harry laughed a little, and Y/n straightened his shoulders before he moved too much and ruined her work so far. “You always say that, I feel like.”

“And I’m right, I always am. Eventually.”

He laughed again, but they soon fell into comfortable silence. Y/n worked through the long strands of his hair, braiding it nice and tight so it would hold for the duration of the show tonight. She wasn’t entirely sure why Harry wanted his hair braided tonight, or why he asked her to do it. He’d been growing his hair out for ages now, but he’d always worn a bandana or just left it loose. Or in a teeny tiny bun at the top of his head, a hairstyle Y/n had to walk him through a couple times.

But she selfishly she liked that Harry sought her out and spent time with her, even when he didn’t really have to. The rest of the boys were out sightseeing and getting a late lunch, but Harry had appeared at her hotel room door with a couple hairties in his hands and a sheepish grin. That grin was usually reserved for when he had a silly request or was embarrassed to tell her something. Like the time he and Louis bought a teacup pig and snuck it into a hotel room and asked for her help to take care of it; or when he needed her help with his Miley Cyrus costume for Halloween; or the time when she caught him watching Dance Moms by himself in his bunk on his tour bus.

When Y/n first took this job, she thought it would be for a couple months. She would travel and perfect her time management and organizational skills and hopefully not be driven crazy by young popstars who had more money than they knew what to do with. But somehow those couple months went by, then six, then a year, then multiple years went by, and she was still Harry’s assistant. And close friend. They’d known each other long enough that she felt comfortable enough to believe that.

“And…done,” Y/n said, tying off the last little braid. Somewhere down the line, she decided to get a little crazy, doing a full braid on one side and tying the other in a little bun. Harry looked a little silly, but he always seemed to pull anything off.

Harry pushed himself to his feet to look in the bathroom’s mirror. “Cool,” she heard him say. “Thanks, Y/n.”

Y/n leaned back on her hotel bed, stretching her back after bending over for an extended period of time. Part of her expected Harry to leave and catch up with the other boys, but he took her by surprise and laid down next to her so that they were shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t say anything, which made Y/n all the more aware of their close proximity. They weren’t touching, but she could feel the warmth of his skin on hers. 

“So…Dance Mums?”

Rolling her eyes, Y/n punched Harry’s arm playfully. “Dance Moms. If you love the show so much, at least get the name right.”

Harry took that as his cue to pull up the show on his phone. They both flipped over onto their stomachs, leaning in close as he fired up the next episode. Y/n smiled to herself as Harry’s attention immediately became absorbed in the show. She didn’t know what compelled him to watch, or why. It was a trashy reality show about moms who fought about dance competitions. But that’s precisely why, Harry insisted once. You can’t make up that kind of drama. Y/n didn’t want to crush him and tell him that the drama was incredibly produced, so she just sat and watched with him and indulged in some mindless entertainment.

“Your show is in a few hours, just thought I’d throw that out there,” Y/n reminded him.

“Oh, don’t start,” Harry said. “I’ll stop with plenty of time to spare.”

Yeah right, Y/n thought. “I’m setting a timer.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’ll never make it onstage.”

“Shh. It’s pyramid.”

Y/n quickly stopped talking and focused on Harry’s phone, slightly amused by the events of today. If this was how he wanted to deal with his recent breakup, then fine. She supposed there were worse ways to cope. 

She still set the alarm, though.

#harry styles #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[victoria-styles]

Do you have any Harry Styles smutty prompts?

Actually, I have 38 Harry Styles x reader smut prompts. 😈

1. Harry is tired of Y/N stealing his sweatshirt and sweatpants and makes her take them off.

2. Harry is having a wet dream and wakes Y/N up by grinding against her.

3. Harry is a gynecologist and gives Y/N a pelvic exam.

4. Harry makes Y/N come over and over again until she’s crying.

5. Y/N’s thigh tattoo turns Harry on.

6. Harry is a pornstar and requests a new PornHub model, Y/N to be in his new video.

7. Harry’s raspy morning voice turns Y/N on.

8. After having their baby, Y/N’s breasts are bursting with milk and Harry helps her relieve some of the pain.

9. Y/N surprises Harry by coming home with her nipples pierced.

10. Harry and Y/N are in a movie theater when he starts fingering her.

11. Y/N distracts Harry while he’s in the middle of writing a song.

12. Harry wakes Y/N up by fingering her and eating her out.

13. Harry and Y/N are strangers who get trapped in an elevator together.

14. Harry and Y/N are best friends who are also very affectionate with each other.

15. Harry is eating Y/N out so intensely that he has to stop and pull his hair back into a ponytail.

16. Harry does something to royally piss Y/N off which results in her giving him the silent treatment, so he has to work to get her to make a sound.

17. Step siblings, Harry and Y/N have to share a bed while on vacation with their family.

18. Y/N is sore and horny due to her period.

19. Harry and Y/N are spies on a mission sent to seduce and capture a major drug lord.

20. Y/N gets a new perfume and it drives Harry mad.

21. Y/N is an actress in Vikings and Harry gets jealous of her spending so much time with her costar, Alex Høgh Andersen.

22. Y/N is the pastor’s daughter, but she isn’t so innocent when it comes to Harry.

23. Y/N and Harry are best friends and what started out as an innocent massage turns into something else.

24. Harry begs Y/N to let him fuck her without a condom.

25. Y/N is Harry’s new costar on Don’t Worry Darling and she’s nervous about the sex scene they have to film.

26. Y/N is 8 months pregnant and her large belly and breasts are making Harry go mental.

27. Harry, a demon, persuades Y/N, a human, to have some fun with him.

28. Harry discovers Y/N, a mermaid, living in the lake behind his new house.

29. Eros comes to Earth and seduces Y/N.

30. Harry and Y/N are best friends and when her boyfriend can’t satisfy her, Harry steps in.

31. Harry is a dangerous patient in a mental asylum and Y/N is his nurse.

32. Harry is a well-known sex therapist and helps Y/N.

33. Harry finds Y/N reading smut about him on Tumblr.

34. After Persephone leaves him, Hades!Harry decides to abduct another woman. But this time, he chooses a human.

35. Harry is a SWAT officer and Y/N is a feisty, unhinged criminal.

36. Hades!Harry falls in love with goddess!Y/N.

37. Harry is a psycho masquerading as a haunted house actor when Y/N runs into him.

38. Harry is Y/N’s new stepfather.

#victoria styles #anon #smut #mine #answered anon #harry styles #harry styles smut #ask me anything #send asks #send me anons #harry styles x reader #fic rec #prompts #smutty prompts

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Something Great

Harry Styles x reader

2019 Harry era

Y/N lived a pretty simple life, well, for a 24 year old. She was a US history teacher at her local high school, and she loved what she did. When her mother calls her for a family dinner to meet a longtime friend, her life changes.

*Ding. Ding. Ding*

First thing in the morning and I was not ready for the days events. My students began to collect their things and just before I could yell to them, my mom calls. I quickly answer her FaceTime call and hold my finger up to her.

“Hold on Ma. Your cheat sheets need to be turned in Monday! If you don’t turn them in, you won’t be able to use it on your final!”

“But Miss-!”

“I have spoken! Now get outta here, all of you! Get to class and have a good weekend if I don’t see you again today.”

I hear a harmony of groans as they walk out of my room and I turn my attention to my mom.

“For someone that babies her nephews, you are kind of mean to your students, Y/N/N.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

“They’re teenagers, mama. You can’t baby them. And your grandsons are both under 3. Now what’s up? I don’t have long to chat.”

She glares and rolls her eyes at me.

“Well I just wanted to make sure it was okay to stop by in a bit. My friend is in town and we really want our families to meet and I’ll be in the area.”

I let out a small laugh as my eyes shift to the door to see my 2nd period students starting to pile in.

“I mean, I’ll be at dinner tonight so I’d just meet them then, but if you insist on stopping by, my 4th is free now since my seniors are gone. It’s just another prep period and I was just gonna do some grading.”

She nods and turns her head. She starts talking to someone and another female- with a posh British accent responds. They talk for a minute before she turns back to me.

“I’ll be there in a bit then. Love you!”

Before I can respond, she hangs up.

I sigh and prep for my next class, pushing my mother out of my mind.

>>>————->

My 3rd period just ended, so I take the opportunity to grade the essays I had assigned for one of my classes. My door opens and I look up to see my mom before looking back down. I can feel the presence of other people, but I’m far too distracted to pay them any mind.

“Yes ma’am?”

My mom only scoffs.

“I wanted to make sure you were coming to dinner. Dad misses you and he wants to see you. Your sisters will also be there. Also, I want you to meet-.”

My mom is quickly interrupted by the back door of my classroom opening. I turn my attention to the door and roll my eyes at who walks in.

“Michael, I’ve asked you not to use that door. That’s the emergency exit door.”

“But Miss, it is an emergency! You gave me a 0 for an essay that you never assigned to me!”

I sigh and shake my head. My mom lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it and I hear her walk out the room.

“I did give it to you, Michael. You folded the rubric into a paper airplane and somehow managed to poke yourself in the eye with it.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. My mom pats my shoulder and leaves while I deal with Michael.

I love my job but… teenagers. They’re too much sometimes…

I pull up to my parents Los Angeles home, my backpack on my shoulder as I walk in. The second I open the door, I’m tackled by my dad.

“Ay mija! Why haven’t you come to see me? You like the teenagers more?”

I laugh and shake my head as I hug him.

“I’m sorry! And you’ve been busy too with all your projects so I don’t want to hear it! But I’m here now!”

He smiles and squeezes me one more time before he sets me down. I set my backpack down on the floor by the couch and pick up my two year old nephew, Ollie, who squeals in excitement and laughter.

“Ayyy, my monkey! I heard you’ve been cursing like a sailor, haven’t you?”

He giggles and shakes his head. I talk to my dad for a bit and my dad pulls out a few of his new vinyls to show me.

“Really dad? Harry Styles? Mama is gonna kill you.”

He waves me off and shakes his head at me.

“You love his music! I bought it so we could listen to it while you’re here!”

He slips the vinyl out of the book and sets it on the record player. He places the needle on the record and music begins to pour through. My sister walks into the living room from the hallways and dad quickly grabs her, pulling her into his arms to dance.

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus, hoping

Take me back to the light

I dance around with the two year old as he giggles and I sing along. We all dance around and when my sister’s favorite song comes on, she takes her son from my arms and hands him to our dad, before taking my hands in hers as we scream out the lyrics together.

And I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry

Don’t call me “baby” again

You got your reasons

I know that you’re tryna be friends

I know you mean-

We’re cut off by my mom, whose hand is on the needle with an annoyed face.

“I’ve been calling you idiots for 10 minutes! Pedro! You came into the kitchen and I told you to get the girls! And they’re just screwing around!”

“Cariño, I was trying to let them finish! They were having fun, and unwinding without drinking! That’s a lot to be said for the both of them!”

My sister and I glare at him and we let out a scoff.

“Heyyyy….!”

My dad only rolls his eyes and puts the vinyl away. My eyes finally turn back to my mom and I’m now noticing her guests. A woman, around my mom’s age, another around my sister’s and- holy shit.

“Hey, Y/N, isn’t he…”

I blush and immediately advert my eyes. My mom scoffs but I refuse to look up.

“Y/N, seriously. Be polite. Look at our guests like the adult that you are and stop hiding like you’re 14.”

I groan but nod, finally making eye contact with his gorgeous, smiling face.

“Y/N, Sofia, this is Anne. This is her daughter Gemma and her son Harry.”

It’s quiet for a minute until a little voice, belonging to Ollie, speaks up.

“Oh fuck.”

Sofia and I fight to hold back our laughter as my mom glares at us, until we can’t take it anymore. Sofia snorts and I pick up Ollie as I laugh and turn to my sister.

“You see, he is learning Sof! He’s a little genius!”

My mom rolls her eyes and huffs as she storms off into the kitchen. It’s quiet for a minute before my mom shouts from the kitchen.

“Sofia Alexandra! Get in here! Now!”

Sofia and I begin to laugh again. She saunters off to the kitchen, laughing her ass off, leaving me in the living room with my dad, my mom’s friend and her children. It’s quiet for another second when I hear a baby start to cry and I look at Ollie, only to find out he wasn’t the one crying.

I turn my foot and head down the hallway and open the door to the guest room. My eyes catch the almost one year old, my youngest nephew Grayson, crying his eyes out while standing in the pack and play. My expression lightens and I take him into my arms.

“Did you just wake up little man? Do you want some snuggles? Yeah?”

His little hands grasp my shirt tightly and I can’t help but smile. He sniffles and whimpers as I carry him out of the room and rejoin the others in the living room. Ollie and my dad smile when they see us and Ollie reaches out to me.

“Atie!”

I smile and Ollie begins to kick in my dad’s arms.

“Oliver Thomas, we don’t kick, remember? That’s not nice. Be nice to Papa. Use your big words.”

Ollie stops and looks at my dad.

“Papa atie? Atie?”

Dad laughs and nods. He sets down Ollie and takes Grayson from me. I pick up Ollie and look at my dad.

“Will you get Gray a bottle? He’ll probably start crying again in a minute or two.”

Dad nods and smiles and looks to the older woman next to him.

“Anne, would you like to join me? Maybe keep my wife from killing anyone and burning the food.”

She laughs and nods before following him into the kitchen and they disappear. It’s quiet for a minute until Ollie wiggles in my arms.

“Coco? Coco Atie?”

I sigh and shake my head.

“Let’s watch Coco later, monkey. We like these nice new people and they shouldn’t have to suffer through Coco. How about SpongeBob?��

“Sponbob?”

He wiggles again and I nod. I set up the tv and he starts to dance around and sing along to the theme song quietly. I smile and check my phone for a second when I hear my mom call from the kitchen.

“Y/N! Could you put on some music please?”

“No!”

My dad sticks his head out, raising his eyebrow at me and I only smirk and he laughs, going back to what he was doing. I plug in my phone to the house surround system and immediately panic at the song that comes on.

Counted all my mistakes and there's only one

Standing out from the list of the things I've done

All the rest of my crimes don't come-

I skip it immediately and I blush. He clears his throat and I look up, finally meeting his eyes.

“You don’t have to skip it- I like that song.”

I blush even more and I shake me head.

“No it’s okay. My mom will flip out. She doesn’t um- really like the music that I listen to? She would um… Want to listen to that… I was just gonna put on her playlist. Not that she doesn’t like you! She just-.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone has their own taste in music.”

I bite my lip and nod, not knowing what else to say to break the silence.

It isn’t until after dinner that I really get to talk to him.

I sit in my usual spot on the balcony while everyone else sits outside enjoying the summer heat. I hear the door open and I turn my head to see Harry walking towards me with a smile before taking a seat at the table.

“I was wondering where you had disappeared too. Your mum thought you went home.”

I sigh and shake my head, gripping the red pen in my hand.

“I’m just grading papers. It’s quiet here. My roommates are at my house so I can’t focus with all the noise.”

He smiles and nods and I go back to my grading.

“You’re a teacher, right? I liked your classroom-.”

My eyes widen and I cough.

“Wait you saw my classroom?!”

He chuckles and smiles.

“Earlier. For a few minutes. Your mum was showing us around. She was so excited. You had a giant tapestry with my face on it-.”

I blush and bite my lip, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Birthday surprise from my seniors. They um- know how much I like you…”

He smiles and takes the pen out of my hand, causing me to look into his eyes.

“Well I like you too. Would you want to get dinner some time? I’m about to start touring soon but I’d really love to see you more.”

My face burns up and even more.

“God I um- I don’t even know what to say…”

I put my papers down on the table and turn all my attention to his smiling face.

“Have dinner with me, Y/N. I’ll cook for you. My place? Maybe tomorrow night? If it would make you uncomfortable I understand but-.”

I smile and kiss his cheek, causing him to blush.

“I’d love to Harry. Dinner sounds great.”

I smile and his eyes light up. We continue to talk and laugh as I grade papers.

A month later

“Specially delivery for Miss Y/N!”

I look up from my desk and see Harry walking into my classroom with a bouquet of flowers and a plastic bag.

“Oh you are definitely the sweetest. You didn’t have to do this Harry!”

He smiles and shakes his head as he kisses my cheek before sitting down in the seat in front of my desk.

“I couldn’t let you suffer! I know you didn’t exactly want to teach summer school-.”

Before he can say anything else, my door opens to reveal one of my seniors, now a graduate, pushing a big box in.

“Ally! What are you doing here? You’ve graduated, you don’t have to be here.”

She laughs and shakes her head, disregarding the fact that Harry is there.

“Oh I know miss Y/N but your birthday present finally came in! I’m sorry it’s so late but I wanted to deliver it as soon as I could. Open it!”

I laugh and walk around my desk, opening the big box.

“Good god Allison.”

She laughs and I sigh as I pull it out of the box.

“A cardboard cutout of Draco Malfoy? At this point I’m gonna have an army of these things.”

Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Wait you have more? Where?”

Ally gasps and goes for the closet behind my desk.

“Wait you hid them again?! Come on!”

She starts to pull out the other cutouts and place them where they were before.

“Come on Miss. Y/N. You love them! Be proud!”

I roll my eyes and blush.

“Thank you, Ally! Now get out of here! I have a class in a bit and you’re not supposed to be here!”

She laughs and waves before running out of the room. Harry looks around and laughs.

“You have cutouts of both myself and Niall?! How did I not know this?”

I sigh and lean into his arms.

“Gag gifts from students. And the day you came last, I had an eval with the principal do I hid them.”

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my head.

“Did you ever kiss that cutout of me? Pretending it was the real thing?”

I groan and look him in the eyes.

“Oh god! Harry!”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“Guess you don’t need to do that anymore. Why don’t you give the real Harry a kiss?”

I snort and shake my head, pecking his lips. We spend the rest of my lunch together and I am thankful for every ounce of time I have.

>>>—————->

Hope this was okay! I struggled with this one for a bit!

Please like and reblog!

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatiee @harrysmimi@violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @strwbrrydaydreams @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff

[grapejuicestyless]

Night Shift

Harry Styles x Fem!ex best friend reader

Summery: the song Night Shift

The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit

I mistakenly called them by your name

I was let down it wasn't the same

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.” I wiped my lips subconsciously, trying to dry the spit from the boy that vaguely resembled my best friend. Same color hair, same color eyes but somehow less beautiful on the random boy than the one I wanted.

I picked at my skin, my thumb scratching at my hangnails until they bled from the cuticles down my knuckles.

It was always like this. I convince myself I’m fine and go out for drinks. But as soon as I’m not fully sober, he comes back to me like a not as distant memory as I thought he was. I end up wiping my mouth and bleeding on my dress, leaving whoever was there in the bathroom as I make a b-line for the exit.

I'm doing fine, trying to derail my one track mind

Regaining my self-worth in record time

But I can't help but think of your other in the bed that was mine

So again, I walk the street way past my self set curfew and destroying any self respect I’d scraped up off the floor beneath my feet.

But how could I be angry at him for leaving? My best friend, who had such great opportunities ahead of him. A winding journey of riches and fame. A household name to be made. Such a bright star, why would he stay with his friend, who could barely make it past third period without running off to get lost in her head? Why would he tie himself down with someone who could make nothing of themselves.

I had dreams, I had aspirations that I got so damn close to reaching, but never quite there. Never quite confident enough to take the chances that everyone else was so easy to do. So while everyone grows up into who they want to be around me, I stay here and rott in my childish self pity and hopeless devotion to a man who calls once a month if I get lucky.

Maybe all these reasons could level out my anger issues and make me come up with a rational reason to his forgetfulness to check in with someone who never forgot to make sure he was okay. But they didn’t and instead I only grew more impatient and more irritable the larger he rose into a life we’d dreamed he’d get together. Call it jealousy, but I believe it’s just the bitter part of myself angry at the loss of him.

Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth

Call you a bitch and leave?

When the phone hanging unevenly in the kitchen echoed through the late PM, I let my feet rush across the tile. I almost didn’t answer the phone, scared that if it was the one call I’d receive from him, I’d waste it. Maybe if I called back, by some miracle he’d answer. But I came up with fake scenario‘s to force myself to answer.

What if my mom was hurt?

What if someone needed help?

What if my grandma was dying?

“Hello..?” I rubbed at my eyes, tucking the strands of hair falling in front of my face behind my ears. I leaned into the wall, hip popped out and heal off my foot off the ground comfortably.

“Y/n, hey. How have you been?” His English accent felt like a warm blanket of home. It was his moms Sunday breakfast the morning after a sleepover. It was the dew on the grass we ran through every morning before school.

I bit my lip until my teeth were stained red and there were holes in the skin so deep it could scar.

“Oh. I’m good. How have you been?” He laughed, it was airy and light with the blissful ignorance to the hurt he inflicted on me every time with these damn calls.

“You don’t sound too excited to hear from me, y/n/n.” Mentally, I rolled my eyes.

On the outside I came off as rude and standoffish towards any sort of topic involving our situation, but inside I craved for him to chase me like he still wanted me in his life. Just for him to care enough that me not caring broke him into the same shards he’d shattered me into when he left.

“No, just a little tired is all. So, how have you been, Harry?” I tried again, brushing the tense muscles away like everything he said didn’t deeply bother me.

He sighed. I could imagine in that moment that he was pinching his brows and blinking rapidly like he did all those years ago whenever he got slightly out of sorts.

“I’ve been doing really good, recently. I’m touring with the boys.” I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, it felt instinct to get tight lipped and short with him.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the show, by the way. I really wanted to come.” I answered his next question before he could ask it. I knew he’d ask me if I was sure about not coming to his shows. It was a yearly occurrence.

At first I’d show up. Only to the first tour. The second one I had a work conflict with. My the third I had given up even checking my calendar, the embarrassment of my life being only a fraction of what his was worth too embarrassing for me, let alone how embarrassing it was to him. Even if he’d never admit that he found my life boring and undesirable, he’d shown it by leaving everything I worked for behind.

“About that, listen.” He started, I braced myself for what he was about to ask.

“I think it might be nice to catch up. Im in town, I wanted to see you tonight. You remember that cafe on the corner of Washington? The one we went to all the time when we were younger?”

“It closed last year, H.” I checked the clock. The line went silent.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” I bit at my nails in anticipation.

“How about the old coffee shop that sold sea salt taffy’s at the counter?” I hummed.

“Yeah, okay. What time?”

“How about eight? Does that work-“

“Yeah sounds great. See you then.” I hung up the phone harshly, ready to stab him in the heart for leading me on like he cared still or let him twist the knife he’d already put through mine. I knew why he’d called.

Every so often he’d get reminded by someone of me, then he’d get consumed with an insurmountable amount of guilt for not staying in touch. For letting himself drift away. He’d call like we had talked just the other day and go about his life forgetting me once again.

Why did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet?

What was the plan? Absolve your guilt and shake hands?

I arrived at the shop first, finding a table situated near the back, where we always used to sit so we could talk as loud as we wanted and not get hushed.

I placed our coffees under the small napkins laid out to absorb the water rings that gathered occasionally. I ordered the same two black coffees Harry and I had always loved since we were young. Truthfully, I had no idea if he even liked it black anymore.

When the bell rang, my breath was caught in my throat. There he was. The same tall, tanned boy with the curly mop of soft brown locks and sparkling green eyes smiling softly at me. And my heart still raced the same way it did in elementary school.

“Y/n, oh my god you look great.” He reached out for a hug. I hesitated to return it. I was afraid to take in his scent. I was afraid to get attached to something that didn’t belong to me anymore. If I got attached it would only be harder to let it go again. I already lacked the supplies to patch my broken wings, how would I fix them if I allowed him to tear them straight off?

And when I did smell him, it was like a bubble of heaven surrounding my body. I could melt into his chest and just be fully vulnerable. It was the smell of my childhood and the promises of forever that we’d sworn on.

“I got us coffee. Black, like old times.” His lips pulled back and his teeth clenched.

“I actually don’t drink caffeine anymore.” Oh.

“Then why the coffee shop?” I almost laughed at his stupid choice of place. I almost let out a string of curses and begged for answers why I was even there. If not to drink until I’m up for days and pretend you miss me like I miss you, then why call me?

I feel no need to forgive but I might as well

“I just really like this place. Never really changed, so.” I nodded. Of course.

A silence covered us like a blanket that was rough and stuffy. The only sounds being those of the soft sipping of my coffee and the clink the cup made as it made contact with the table. Seconds of this turned to minutes, minutes feeling more like hours.

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s still out of her mind. Less than before but she’s still pretty sick so, I’m not expecting her to do much better.” The table between us was suddenly the most beautiful sight ever. The wood my eyes place to settle on to avoid his stare.

“What about your dad?” He pressed on, wanting more out of me.

“He’s doing the best he can. He’s needed a lot of help with mom so I’ve been helping. It’s been hard but it’s nice being all together again. I don’t mind it, it gets quiet over here.” I swallowed a lump in my throat, my tongue finding a home poking at the inside of my cheek.

“Shit, I had no idea it was that bad, babe. Why didn’t you say something?”

“You never asked.” Looking up to meet his face was like watching him process his lack of involvement in my life. It was watching him go through every stage of grief at once and every bit of it was doused in guilt.

But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt

Silence consumed us again. From afar I bet we looked like we were on an awkward first date. You never would have guessed that we’d know each other in and out at some point. But life is funny like that. While I live with our memories together like it deserves to be protected, he tosses them out like a side quest leading him to his success without me.

The chair squeaked when I stood, my hand reaching in my back pocket to pull out a twenty.

“I hope your show goes well tomorrow, Harry.” I began to leave, only stopping once he shot up and blocked my path with his chest.

Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell

“What? You’re leaving? Why?”

“Harry, I can’t catch up with someone I don’t even know.”

“You know me.”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” He raised his voice slightly. His tone wavered, unsure of himself and hurt by my quickness in giving up on us.

“Okay, then you must not know me.”

“Of course I know you.” I laughed but he didn’t find it funny.

Don't hold your breath, forget you've ever saw me at my best

You don't deserve what you don't respect

Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect

“I know you still like your coffee black. And I know that you stayed at home because you got too attached to the backroads here. I know you were obsessed with the idea of letting our children grow up in one of the nice houses up on the hill with the picket fences and becoming just as close as we are.”

“As we were.” I corrected.

“As we are.” He insisted.

“You can’t be close to someone you can’t even remember to call until everyone else is busy.” He shut up, tugging at the hair at his roots.

“Y/n.” The beg tumbled past his lips with no real request. Maybe to just stay in my presence for a moment longer, but that idea was shoved down with all my other fantasies of us still being close like he believed we were.

“I hope your show goes well tomorrow, Harry.” My shoulder brushed his. He reached out for me, but missed by a hair, I felt it. Yet, he made no further movement to come back to me. He didn’t chase what he didn’t want.

Now bite your tongue, it's too dangerous to fall so young

Take back what you said

Can't lose what you never had

Exiting that shop hurt more than a thousand cuts in the creases of my body. Each step was heavier and each street light I counted only hurt my head more to count.

The scream I let out by the park bench on the way home was guttural and obnoxious. I could only pray no one overheard my breakdown that came out in ugly sobs and a clawed at chest.

If he was gone, then so was my oxygen. Every time was harder to let go than the previous. All had been over the phone so this was a new kind of hurt. This was dying. This was the light draining and the body shutting down If always feared as a kid. This was me welcoming it.

I could only wish he could feel a fraction of what I felt letting him go like that.

I feel no need to forgive but I might as well

But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt

Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell

I memorized his tour schedule for the next year. I knew when he would be in town and I knew when he would be leaving. I could predict when he would call, I could guess what he would ask about and I could accurately mouth the jokes he always said when things got awkward.

So I started helping over my parents help on nights when he was in town. If he wanted to call, I wouldn’t be there to contribute to his sudden remembrance to his humble beginnings.

I started avoiding my phone. I stopped walking through the kitchen. I started going to bed early when I was at home. I started to stop praying on his call to come and started to pray it wouldn’t.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

Getting over him wasn’t an option, but I could distract myself with the people present in my life. My friends became my best friends and he slipped into a distant memory after some passing weeks. The mention of his name still had my heart racing at a speed that was pitiful for someone so mistreated, but I no longer longed for his constant presence.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

It had been a year since that night that I walked out. It had been a few months since I developed my schedule to avoid his calls and pleas for my reassurance he hadn’t lost me. And it had been long enough for me to do the unbelievable.

When the phone rang in the kitchen I didn’t shuffle as quick as possible across the tile like I would. I didn’t rationalize with who it could be, what could be happening. I let my feet drag slowly to the wall with the same old phone on it and I answered.

I answered the phone, picking it up off the wall, and before he could get a word out about his relief that I’d answered, I set the phone back against the wall, ending the call before it began.

I did the unbelievable. I stopped caring.

You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again if I can help it

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

#harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine

[chaoticloving]

the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

~

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

~

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

~

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

~

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #husband!harry styles #husband!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem!reader #husband!harry x reader #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles satellite

[paeries]

~ spyrry sneak peek~

disclaimer; contents are subject to change once fully edited and posted

cw; swearing, spy!reader x spy!harry, enemies to lovers??

••••••••

“I don’t care what the conditions are, Terrance! I’m not doing it! Get someone else for it this time.” Y/N barked, doing her best to keep in stride with her boss, who regrettably ruined her otherwise great morning with quite possibly the worst news of her life.

“There is no one else, dammit! You two are the most qualified for this exact job. You’re doing it.” The director glared, “You and Styles both cryin’ about it every morning, I don’t care! If there was another way, don’t you think I’d try and spare myself the agony of hearing you two argue?” he finished, practically out of breath, the poor thing. She rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, and she was sure she was scowling, with the way people were scrambling to get out of the way.

“That’s all good and well, but I am physically not going to do it.” She reiterated, effectively putting her foot down on the matter once they reached the debriefing hall.

“I had a feeling it’d come down to this,” Terrance sighed, and subtly nodded to a few others behind her. “Sorry, Y/N, it’s only for a little while.”

“What are you tal- Hey!” She shrieked as she was grabbed and cuffed to the chair. “Come on! I’ll get out of these!” She huffed, tugging at the silicone covered chains.

“Yes, but it’ll hold you till he gets here.” He answered before stepping out into the hallway and shut the heavy door between them. Her jaw fell open, before anger taking over her, a growl leaving her lips as she pulled at the cuffs. “Cool it, cool it…” She whispered to herself, relaxing as best she could, what with her fists clenched tightly.

She couldn’t believe this, of all the people that work in this god forsaken building, not a single one of them could train well enough to give Harry some better competition as number two. (Because let's face it, she's number one because she is the best, and if they couldn’t beat out Harry, they certainly weren't coming very close to her spot.) And now, because the insufferable prick can’t ever keep his mouth shut, she’s got to be the one cuffed to a chair that's bolted into the damn floor. After all the hard work, and dedication she’s given the agency, everything she’s done to keep money in their pockets, and this is how they treat her? They let one stray dog in, just to muck it up. All the mistakes he’s made that they’ve had to rip her out of her home or training to fix his problems, now they want them to double a mission together? She’d sooner quit.

——

“No, no fucking way.” Harry huffed, slowing his steps down the hallway once he realised he recognised the head of hair waiting in the room they were headed to. “You’re absolutely insane if you think there's any way I’m agreeing to this.” He argued, extending his arm out to gesture to the door. “This isn’t up for discussion, Agent.” The director calmly said, as he had already prepared for another round. Terrance took a steady breath before scanning his badge and the door separating them opened again. There she was, legs crossed over one another, looking totally unamused as she sat at the table while twirling around the cuffs she managed herself out of. “Oh, look, visiting hours.” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “What, he doesn’t get cuffs?”

“I don’t believe this! You can’t seriously tell me that no one here is better than her besides me?” He huffed and Y/N rolled her eyes, tossing the cuffs to the table. “No one here is better than me, period. You’re nowhere close to what I bring in.” A snicker falling past her lips as she watched Harry get visibly worked up. “You took out one man, and you think we all have to bow down to you !” Y/N laughed, pleased at his reaction. “It wasn’t one man, it was the man, and there’s no rea-,” She started before the director shut the argument down. “S’enough already. I’d get rid of both of you if there were anyone better. Fact of the matter is, for some reason, your competitiveness against one another, makes the other better. Christ, y’don’t even know what you have to do yet.” Terrance sighed, pinching the nerves at the top of his nose after the pair glared again at one another.

“Now, are we ready to listen?”

——

“That’s even worse than before, T!” She cried, bringing her hands to her face. “We’ll never be able to pass off as a loving couple, are you crazy?!” Harry groaned, “We’ll be killed.”

“Speak for yourself, m’not stupid enough to get myself killed. It’ll be you that does it because you can’t keep y’mouth-,” She was seething, but thankfully the director stepped in once again with a slam of the rather hefty dossier on the table. “That is the brief, moving on.” He breathed, going to the screen to pull up the pictures. “I don’t care how you do it, when you do it, where you do it, just don’t use a gun. Ballistics tells too much about our whereabouts. Locate, and disarm the bomb, Harry, and Y/N, hack into his servers after the two of you infiltrate. Planes ready, pack up and go. It’ll be a while.”

“Terran-“ “Wait a second!” The two spoke at once, trying their best to squeeze in their complaints and concerns in a last ditch effort.

“Go! Get out of here, you’ve given me a headache in the fifteen minutes you've been around each other. Argue on the plane and annoy the pilot for all I care. Just, don’t kill each other.” The director left quickly, desperate to get away from the ticking time bomb as fast as he could.

———

After the initial wave of disappointment ebbed away, she decided she’d better get to packing and quickly, if she was going to catch the flight. “Move,” She huffed, rolling her eyes at him as he continued to stand in the way of the door. “You move.” He breathed back, shouldering past her as he grabbed the rather weighty accordion file that held all the information about their mission. After briefly turning through a few pages, he glanced up to see that she had already started down the hall. Her strides quick and strong but focused; one of her angry walks. “Wait!” He called, jogging after her until he caught up. “Y’really gonna leave without even looking at it?” He asked in near disbelief, it was very unlike her to not want to know everything.

She turned the corner sharply, leaving Harry to stumble as he missed the turn. After correcting, he stopped at her desk, waiting for his answer as she rummaged through the drawers. Finally, her head snapped up at him as if questioning what he was still doing there. “Well?” Harry repeated while holding the file up, frustrated that she’d completely ignored him. “S’what the fucking plane is for, Harry. Of course m’not spending 2 hours on a plane, then driving another 5 and a half without some reading material.” Oh. Harry kept quiet, grumbling some sort of a ‘whatever’ before going to collect his own belongings to pack up.

••••••

(there’s the sneakerrr, i literally have been having the hardest time NOT thinking about these two because i’ve been in a very argumentative mood, call it the gemini in me but it is what it is)

#harry writing #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry x reader #harry styles imagine #spy!harry #spyrry #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles on tour

[gurugirl]

My period just ended and i'm like hormonal mess (tmi? i'm sorry) and my mind went to the blurb I read somewhere about H spanking Y/N's pu$$y as punishment cause she got less marks in exam and it reminded me of professor harry so maybe you can write something similar if you want to? Thank you ily<3

Thanks anon! Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy

Warning: smut, degradation, punishment, spanking, pussy slapping, inappropriate relationship 1.6k words

Pairing: older professor!Harry x student!reader

Professor!Harry masterlist

You tried so hard to do well on your exam but you just didn't make the cut. It was awful. The worst grade you'd ever gotten. Professor Styles was visibly upset with you. He didn’t look at you once during class. After the bell rang you slowly gathered your things and kept looking at him, hoping he’d give you even a single glance.

You pouted as you walked past him to leave his classroom but as you got to the door you heard his voice, “My office in ten.”

You turned to see him looking at you with raised brows, a look of warning. You nodded and felt yourself relax immediately. He might be upset about your grade but at least he finally spoke to you and now he wanted you in his office.

You were sat in his office waiting for him when he arrived. He stepped in, closed and locked the door behind him, put his briefcase down on his desk and sat at his chair all without giving you any attention.

He turned his computer on and you watched as he read and responded to emails, his brow furrowed as he did so, deep in thought about what was on his computer screen.

You cleared your throat and crossed your legs. Nothing. So, you pulled out your cellphone to keep yourself occupied while Harry ignored you.

After a few minutes Harry stopped typing and when you peered toward him his eyes were on you. Finally.

“Care to explain why you got the worst marks in class on the exam? I thought you understood the material.”

He crossed his arms over the desk and leaned in.

You put your cellphone back into your book bag and sat up straight as you gulped, “Uhhm… I don’t know. I thought I understood it too. You went over everything with me and… I just… I’m so bad at tests and I…. I’m sorry.” You we’re flustered. The look he was giving you could only be described as disappointed. He’d probably end your fling now. He certainly wouldn’t want to keep fucking a dumb girl like you.

Harry shook his head and exhaled a deep breath as he stood. He walked across the room to you and when he stood right in front of you, you had to crane your neck back to look up at him.

He didn’t look happy at all. You were certain he’d end it now. You swallowed your tears down and kept your eyes on him.

Harry slowly reached a hand up to your face and brushed the back of his knuckles over your cheek and up toward your ear and then he ran his fingers into your hair. You closed your eyes at his gentle touch.

Suddenly his grip on your hair had your head being yanked back. You opened your eyes and Harry was leaning over you, his face right over yours, “I don’t want to punish you, Y/n but I have no choice.”

You gasped at the way he pulled at your hair when he jerked you up from your chair to standing. You grunted when he let your strands go.

Harry unzipped his pants and sat down in the chair you were in as he pulled his half-hard dick out of the front of his boxers.

You stood and watched as he leaned forward and grasped your skirt to pull you closer.

“On your knees.”

You quickly nodded and dropped to your knees as you moved between his spread legs and put your hands on his sturdy thighs. You kept your eyes on his.

“Suck,” Harry nodded toward his cock and leaned back in the chair.

You grasped his shaft and immediately put your mouth over him and began sucking. You kept your eyes on him and felt his cock plump up fully in your mouth. You kept at your work, sucking and licking and getting yourself down over him as far as you could.

Harry’s breathing picked up and when you tasted his precum he put his hands on the back of your head and forced you down over his long dick, the tip reaching down into your throat making you gag and choke around him. He rutted upward, keeping your head in place over him. He fucked into your throat for a few more minutes, loving the way you swallowed around him, gagged, and drooled all down his cock.

Then he grasped your hair and pulled you off. You panted and sucked in breath, your chest heaving. Harry pulled you up and turned you around and lifted your skirt before striking your bum cheeks a few times.

When he pulled your thong to the side he noticed how sodden you already were. He knew you would be.

“Just like I thought. A dirty fucking slut, dripping from her punishment. Now,” he spoke gruffly, his voice tight and filled with lust, “gonna need you to take your shoes off for this and then want you to sit on my cock. Want you to climb up and I’m gonna fuck myself into your cunt.”

So you did as he said, removing your shoes first. Harry kept his hands at your hips as you climbed up onto his lap, facing away from him. You tried to steady yourself as you grasped his cock and brought the head to your opening and slowly sat over him. When he was deep inside of you, Harry moved his legs apart and grabbed your thighs, making you bend at the knee and brought your feet up to the top of his thighs.

You were thankful the door was locked because if anyone were to enter they’d get a view of your cunt stuffed full with the professor, riding him reverse cowgirl.

You began lifting and lowering slowly as you stabilized yourself with your feet over his thighs. Harry kept his hands at your waist and assisted you to make it easier.

You moaned when you both got into a good rhythm but suddenly Harry moved one hand down over your pussy and smacked your clit. You jumped and yelped.

“You don’t get to make a peep. If I hear you make anymore sounds I’m going to slap your pussy again. Harder next time.”

So you tried hard to keep quite but it felt too good. Harry’s thick cock had you spread wide and the way he was groaning lightly and the noise from how wet he was making you was lewd.

You let out a breathy high-pitched gasped and Harry grunted as he reached around and smacked your clit again. It made you flinch but then you moaned involuntarily, causing another strike to your clit from Harry’s big palm.

“Profes… fessor… oh god!” You had lost your mind you were sure but it felt incredible and when he smacked you again, he issued you a series of sharp spanks to your pussy that had you throwing your head back in ecstasy.

The moan you released was too loud. Harry knew this wouldn’t be wise because anyone who stood outside the door and heard your little noises would know those were sounds of pleasure.

Harry lifted your off his cock and you stood on wobbly legs and turned to watch Harry standing up. His cock was hard and sticking straight out under its bulk as he manhandled you to bend over the chair he was just seated in. He lifted your skirt and swatted your bottom a few times on each side and then his palm was covering your mouth and he angled you sharply downward, your hips digging into the wood of the chair and your pussy lips on full display.

Harry spanked your pussy and watched as your arousal splashed over his hand. You groaned into his hand and steadied yourself with your palms flat on the seat of the chair.

Harry spanked your ass and then moved down to your pussy again, switching up the sensations from your soft bum to your wet and swollen pussy. You were in pain but your body was tingling with pleasure.

“This is what happens when bad girls get bad grades. You get spanked and you do not get to come,” Harry growled.

When Harry felt you’d had enough, after your bottom was bright red with welts and handprints, he pulled you up to face him and pushed you back down to your knees, guiding your mouth back over his cock.

Harry used one hand to keep at your head to push you down on him, and the other he had on the back of the chair to steady himself because he was about to burst in your mouth. Watching your wet pussy and bitable bum get swollen and red from his hand had him all worked up.

And it didn’t take long. You had Harry deep down your throat as he fucked himself into your mouth and watched your lips stretch around his cock for only a few minutes. When he pushed you down hard and your nose was pressed into his hair he nutted right down your throat in a breathy grunt, finally finding his release.

You gurgled as his come slid down your throat and Harry enjoyed the sight of how wrecked you were.

When he finally let go of your head and pulled out you gasped and wiped at your face.

Harry chuckled as he tucked his still plumped cock into his boxers and zipped his pants.

“Maybe next time you’ll pay more attention when I’m giving you one on one tutoring. Only good girls with good grades get to come.”

Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it's all appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Xoxo

Tags: @victoria-styles @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @anothermannharry

#harry styles smut #professor!harry #Professor styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #older!harry #harry styles fan fiction

[positivelyholland]

Styles/swift daughter reader and maybe she’s with Harry and they have an angsty fight?

pairing: harry styles x daughter!reader

genre: angst

warnings: arguing with parent, name calling, taylor being the best mom ever, harry's a bit of a shitty dad for a little while tho

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just finished unpacking your stuff after making it to your dads house a few hours earlier, so you decided that you would go spend some time with your dad since you haven't seen him in a while. As you started the walk down the hall to his office, you heard his voice from outside the room just when you were about to knock.

"I just never know what to do while she's here, she's always so picky and it makes my life so much harder"

At the sound of the awful words coming out of his mouth, you froze in your place. That was the last thing you expected to hear while you were simply trying to hang out with your dad for heavens sake!

You knew better, you should've just kept on walking and mind your own business. I mean, it would save you from an inevitable mental breakdown.

But nonetheless, you kept listening.

"she's just such a handful, I have no clue how Taylor is able to deal with her for such long periods at a time"

As you heard this, you swear you could hear your heart break in your chest. You made the (not so smart) decision to start recording what you were hearing so you could use it to possibly go back to your moms house. There was no way you could continue to live here if that's how he was going to talk about you.

"I'm so behind on all my work, the last thing i need is another burden to add to the list of things i need to worry about"

You continued to catch everything he said about you on video, and in the meantime, you realized that you had started crying.

Once you had decided that enough was enough, you walked back to your room and sent the video to your mom in hopes that she would let you go back to her house.

You put your phone down and started crying. You muffled the sound with your pillow because the last thing you needed was for Harry to hear you crying. That would just make him despise you more.

•••••••••

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing, which confused you since you didn't even remember ever falling asleep. As you check the screen, you're met with your moms contact picture proving that it was her that was calling you.

"hello?" your voice was incredibly weak and scratchy from both the crying and the fact that you had just woken up.

"Oh y/n/n, I'm so sorry about what he said. I've already sent him a text telling him off for what he said" Taylor responded, sounding as upset as you were, if not more.

"Thanks mom, I just wanna come back to your house" a small sob broke out as the words left your mouth.

"i know baby. I'll tell you what, if he doesn't fix what he did and take you on a daddy daughter date then we can try to work something out. Does that sound okay?" she was furious about what Harry had said and with how it had affected you she was more than willing to do anything to help you out.

You sniffled and wiped off some of your tears, "okay mom, love you."

"Love you too, so much. Let me know if you need anything" Taylor responded. "I'll talk to you later"

You just nodded before hanging up. You decided that sleep was the best thing you could do at the moment to help you forget about what he said, but sleep requires peace which you definitely did not have, so you ended up just laying in bed alone with your thoughts.

Unaware of how long it had been, you heard a knock at your door which you could only assume was your dad coming to apologize after your mom yelled at him.

However, he had different plans.

"Y/N Y/M/N Styles-Swift!" He yelled your full name at you so this couldn't be good.

You just rolled over in your bed to face him, and once he had seen your tear stained face, he somehow seemed to become even angrier.

"Care to explain why I just got a call from your mother saying that you told her that I said something that wasn't even your business to hear in the first place?" he practically screamed at you.

"Im sorry dad, I just didn't know what else to do" your voice was barely above a whisper.

"But if you weren't such a crybaby and you had a brain then you would've known what to do"

There's no way this was actually him. This was not the Harry you knew. Your dad would never treat you like this, or so you thought.

You decided not to respond to him, as he would probably use anything you say against you at this point, and would ultimately make the situation worst. You resulted to just staying quiet and nodding.

Once Harry decided he was done yelling at you, he stomped out of your room and left with a slam of your door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N I'm so sorry to do this to y'all but lemme know if you want a part 2

#taylor swift x daughter!reader #harry styles x daughter!reader #positively holland #styles swift!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles

[leclerc-hs]

Totally Pucked - HS

Pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

Summary: in which your ex-boyfriend can't stand to see another man's arms around you

Warnings: bad writing, angst

Author's Note: this honestly isn't the best writing, but I had an idea and I wanted to post it regardless. feel free to send in requests!!!

University of Denver

2:30 PM

You dropped your bag down on the ground by the table, in which all of your friends were sitting, before plopping down into a seat. Your body slumped down in pure exhaustion.

“These exams are going to be the death of me.” You exasperated to Anna, your best friend and roommate.

“Just hang in there,” she placed her hand on your shoulder before throwing a fry in your direction to get you to wake up. “Do you want to go to the hockey game tonight?”

You felt your stomach twist into a knot at the mention of hockey. Going to the hockey game meant seeing him. It was an important game though. The entire University was most likely going.

Him meaning Harry Styles, the star athlete and captain of the University hockey team, the Pioneers. Also him meaning, you’re ex-boyfriend of one year. You split up three months ago, not from loss of love but lack of time for one another. You both tried to make it work, it just didn’t.

You knew it was for the best, but you couldn’t help and wonder if he missed you just as much as you missed him.

Anna could sense your apprehension and placed her hand on your shoulder, “Hey don’t feel pressured. I know you don’t want to see him. Just thought it would be fun to go out during this week of hell.”

You nodded your head in agreement and smiled softly. “Yeah, we can still go. It’s not like I have to speak to him anyways.”

9:30 pm 

After a few shots later -- strictly taken to calm your nerves of going to the game, you were seated in the first few rows in the center area of the ice. It was nearing the end of 3rd period and the Pioneers were up by two goals. 

The whole game you were on edge due to the sight of Harry. It calmed you that the entire arena was completely filled so he wouldn’t notice you anyways. That and the fact he was playing a full blown hockey game. His mind was only focused on the ice.

You haven’t seen him since you split up. Which explains the slight nerves you feel in your stomach.

He was playing extremely well tonight. A total show off.

“Hey Y/N, do you want to go get a pretzel with me?” Your childhood friend, Jack, whispered towards you with a smile on his face. 

You looked toward the concession stand and saw that it was barely crowded. You nodded with a smile and told Anna you would be right back.

Sliding out of the row and into the aisle, you felt Jack sling his arm over your shoulder as you walked down the steps together. “Hockey players are like goldfish. Tap on the glass and you get their attention.” He joked into your ear.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back in laughter at how bad the joke was. You appreciated it though. You knew that he was just trying to ease your nerves.

That was until, you heard a loud commotion on the glass right near you.

The commotion being Harry slamming his fists on the glass like a total caveman that it was rattling so hard. It was hard to hear over the loud noise of the arena but you caught the harsh words leave his lips, “Get your fucking hands off of her.” Before skating off back to the bench. 

He was red in the face. Seething at the sight of another man’s arms around you. He knew it was your childhood friend, but he couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight of it.

Jack immediately dropped his arm from your shoulder with astonishment. You looked like you were a deer caught in headlights.

“What the fuck was that?” You started to get mad. Mad at the fact he had the audacity to do that. Mad at the fact he thought he had a right to do that. Mad at the fact that you still felt your heart yearn for him.

“If looks could kill, I would be a dead man.” Jack stated while scratching the back of his neck. “Are you okay?”

You nodded your head very slowly before asking him if he could take Anna home for you later. You just wanted to go home. The game was almost over anyways.

Jack gave you a hug (risky) and told you to drive safely and that he will bring Anna home later.

10:30 PM

After repeatedly telling Anna you would be okay on your own, she was out the door on the way to the after-party. The Pioneers won 3-1 tonight and the university was buzzing with joy.

You on the other hand, felt sick to your stomach. Full of questions of why on Earth would Harry do that. In the middle of his game too.

So here you were, laying in your bed with reruns of Friends playing as background noise. You couldn’t focus on the TV.

There was a knock on your bedroom door. “Anna, I thought you left. I told you I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Except, it wasn’t Anna. It was Harry. 

A million thoughts were running through your head. You sat up on your bed and opened your mouth to say something.

“Don’t. Just let me speak.” Harry pleaded. His strong build pushed through into your bedroom before closing the door behind him. His hair was still wet and he was wearing black sweats and a sweatshirt. “Please.” he added softly before approaching the foot of your bed.

You sat in silence, just staring at him. You felt frozen. You haven’t seen him up this close in three months. His hair was all over the place, as if he’s been running his hands constantly through it. His eyes were a soft green. You always loved his eyes.

“Y/N, fuck...please” He couldn’t get his words out. He sat down on the side of your bed, his face in his hands and rubbed his face.

“Harry, you can’t do this to me.” Your mind was fuzzy but you were mad. Who does he think he is? “We aren’t together. You cant go slamming on glass because someone puts their arm around me.” Your voice started getting louder. Stronger.

He stood up abruptly. “Fuck, you don’t think I know that?” He started pacing your room. “I just-” he stopped short. “I just can’t think straight around you.”

He dropped his hands at his sides. “I came here to apologize for what I did but I’m not sorry. I don’t want his hands on you. I don’t want anybody’s hands on you.” He sat down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees.

“That’s not a decision you can make for me Harry,” you went to stand up but he pulled you back down onto the bed.

“Are you even listening to me? Don’t you understand?” His words were sounding feverish, he was desperate. “The break up was a mistake, Y/N” His eyes started watering, as did yours.

“These three months,” he paused and looked into your eyes. “Have been absolutely brutal. I need you. I need you back.”

The tears started to spill out of your eyes. “Harry, I-”

He cut you off. “No, Y/N. I know you miss this. Miss us.” His hands started drawing little circles on your bare legs. “I feel like I can finally breathe now just by seeing you.”

Your heart yearned. You pulled his head into your lap and played with his hair. His face was covered with dried tears. You felt like you needed to comfort him. You still do love him.

“H, I just don’t think these three months can be forgotten.” You voice quivered. It felt hard to speak. 

“I will do anything, please.” He started. “You belong to me, you’re made for me.” He started to place slow kisses to your bare legs. It only made your heart beat faster.

“H, sit up.” He lifted his head and you could just see the pain etched all over his face. You felt for him. He started crying uncontrollably. It hurt to see. He had just won a major game tonight and should be celebrating. Instead, he’s here sobbing over missing you.

You placed yourself on his lap to give him a hug and squeezed him really tight. You felt his tears drop onto your neck but you didn’t mind.

“Baby, stop crying please.” You begged. You lifted his head with your hands to bring his face in front of yours. His eyes were red and lips were all puffy.

You brought your nose to his before whispering, “It will all be okay.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

You brought your lips to his and everything felt right again. It felt like home. You missed this.

His hands squeezed your sides before pulling away, “Please be mine again.”

You replied by bringing your lips back to his. It was a yes.

#harry styles #harrystyles #harry #styles #harry!hockey #harry styles angst #jealous!harry #exboyfriend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

[itsgigikay]

Kiwi Part I

A/N: Hii!! Okay so I think I’ll actually be doing this as a series, the series is called Did We Do It and within the series there are parts but I’ll naming each one of them not sure if that makes sense😂 also I’ve never been to Italy so I’m not sure if this restaurant actually exists but we’ll pretend it does but anyways I hope you like it again it’s my first time writing so please any feedback would be great. Much love❤️

Harry Styles x Reader

Harry was the one to confess his feelings first. He didn’t care that she was 22 years old and he was a year younger. He loved her and she loved him. They’ve known each other since she was 17 years old and he was 16 years old. They dated for 3 years until Harry was able to pop the question. During the 3 years, they dated there were so many things going on that were planned, a busy schedule, tour, album releases, and some things that weren’t planned. She’s always been there no questions asked, confirming her love and support towards him. 

2017 was when Harry first released his first album HS1, he was 23 and Y/N was 24 after the release, the tour started however no matter how busy Harry was he always found time for her, taking her around to visit the cities they were in, or even going on dates where they would have to enter through the back doors and he would have to rent out the place to have their privacy. 

The best memory Y/N remembered was in September of 2018 when they were in Italy after the tour. It was fashion week in Italy and Harry and Y/N were there because he was invited to some of them and as a plus one he had decided to take you with him. After they had gone to the Fendi fashion show, Harry had rented out his favorite restaurant in Milan Seta. It was also your one-year anniversary. You had honestly thought Harry would forget because throughout the whole week he didn’t even mention anything to you about it. 

When you saw he had pulled up to the restaurant you had turned to Harry looking puzzled. He was wearing gray dressy pants, sheer like black button down with the first couple of buttons opened, a long black coat matched with white loafers, and his hair out wild curls flying everywhere. You had your hair waved just a bit with very little to no makeup. Wearing a black dress that ends just by your mid-thigh, sleeves sheer with the top being a corset matching it with gold accessories and you had switched from your heels to white Alexander McQueen sneakers.

“Okay lovie put this on” he had opened the glove compartment pulling out a blindfold 

“What’s this for H” she asked, taking it from his hand and putting it around her eyes. 

“You’ll see once we get in,” he said, opening the driver's car door and going around to open the car for you grabbing your hand “watch your step, love” he warned you getting out of the car. 

As you were walking hand in hand, hearing crickets in the background you heard a door open walking in some more you finally stopped walking Harry walked behind you pulling the blindfold off your eyes. The first thing you had seen was a table with a white cloth set for two. Room is lightly lit with candles all around with the smell of floral going around the room. 

“Harry-“ you started trying to get the right words in. You had really thought he had forgotten about your anniversary. 

“You’d really think I’d forget love, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Come on I know you're hungry they’ve got the best pasta” taking her hand and leading her to the table. 

Looking up straight at his eyes “I love you.” 

“And I love you, Happy Anniversary” kissing her on the cheek and giving her a peak as well. And so their night had just begun from there. 

A month and a half after they had come back from their trip Y/N wasn’t feeling well, she had been waking up with nausea, and a slight headache. She had thought it was due to her almost getting her period so she forgot about it and let it slip her mind.

A week and a half later she had woken up in their LA home, their room still dark, she felt a little uneasy in her stomach before she can think. She felt coming up her throat almost not making it to the bathroom, quickly bending down on her knees and emptying out everything she had for dinner before she went to bed. She had felt someone hold up her hair heaving over again this time she felt circle motions trying to comfort her, she saw from the corner of her eye it was no one other than Harry. After she was completely done she went limp against their bathtub. Harry had scooped her up on her lap telling her sweet nothings into her ear, “I’ve got you” “it’s okay, love” kissing her temple he saw her eyes slowly drooping so he carried her back to bed putting her under the covers. Harry got under the covers as well getting close to her and wrapping his arms around her and they fell back asleep within seconds.

She woke up the next morning feeling Harry's arms around her. She reached out for her phone by the side of her bed, seeing that it was 9:07 AM. She had a funny taste in her mouth suddenly all the memories came flooding back in about what had happened last night. Her throwing up, Harry was by her side soothing her and comforting her. She had turned to face her boyfriend, taking in all his beauty. His long lashes rested on the top of his cheeks, heart-shaped lips opened partially, long hair wild with the curls being everywhere covering his eye just a little. She slowly started moving the hair out of the way when she saw a smile forming on those heart-shaped lips. 

“Good morning, darling” slowly he opened his eyes looking straight at his girlfriend and smiling at her lovingly.

“Good morning, lovie” she replied back leaning into him kissing his cheek, and resting her head on his chest.

“How are you feeling? Do you still feel sick?” he asked while slowly stroking through her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“Little queasy, honestly. Also, need to brush my teeth” she told him looking up at him

“We’ll go in a minute, let's cuddle for a little more.” leaning in closer, if that was even possible, letting their chests squeeze in together, hissing from that as she felt pain on her boobs.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly, she nodded her head, leaning back to the position they were in.

She had started going through her thoughts, she had sensitive boobs, nausea, throwing up, and she did have a slight headache sometimes. She thought it was her period but then she doesn’t remember when the last time she got it was. She‘s the type of person that writes down from when to when she gets her period, even has an app, Clue. She grabbed her phone looking for the app, the last time she had gotten her period was almost 2 and half months ago. There’s something wrong with her, her mind went through so many scenarios we’re going through her mind but one thing she couldn’t shake out was her being pregnant. What if she is pregnant? 

“What time do we have to be at the studio?” She asked with her eyes closed. Harry was finally starting to write for his second album. 

“Probably 11 you want to make breakfast or pick up on the way” in his morning voice. 

“Hmmm, honestly I’m tired to get up but I want homemade blueberry pancakes with Nutella.” She moaned at the craving. 

“I’ve got you, love. Maple syrup? Coffee or tea? Eggs or hashbrowns?” Detangling himself from her, pushing off the covers giving her a peak on her bow-shaped lips. 

“Yes, tea and hashbrowns, please and thank you” mumbling into his lips. 

While Harry was downstairs whipping, whisking, frying, and cutting everything from the flour, eggs, baking powder, salt, sugar, milk, butter, blueberries, hash browns, Fruits, and putting on the tea kettle Y/N decided to go take a quick shower. When Y/N comes out of the shower she takes her towel and wraps it body after wrapping it around herself she bent down, opened her cabinet under her sink finally found what she was looking for. 

A pregnancy test. 

‘Okay, so I just pee on the stick and wait a few minutes one is negative two is positive’ thinking in her head. 

After taking not one but three tests her alarm finally went off letting her know that her wait time was over. She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in, she was feeling so many emotions she was anxious, nervous, maybe a little excited but most of all scared. She didn’t know if Harry would want a baby now, he had just released his album, he’s going on tour, and yes he adores kids he’s known to love kids but you both never discussed when and if you both wanted to start a family. 

Flipping all three tests over she saw a total of 6 lines, all she can do is look down and the three shaking tests that she holds. She’s pregnant. She’s carrying a baby. She’s growing a real human inside her. When does she tell Harry? Should she even tell Harry most importantly how? Her mind was going in circles until she heard a knocking on the other side of the bathroom door. 

“Darling are you in there? Breakfast is ready.” Harry asked a little hesitant. 

“Y-yes I’ll be right out I was just taking a shower.” whipping the tear that had rolled to the corner of her lip, she didn’t even realize she was crying the pregnancy tests in her hand. She heard Harry’s feet pitter-patter on the floor. She took the tests in her head putting them under her towel.

She had put her tests in the nightstand drawer by her bedside. When she had finally finished getting dressed with shaky hands and headed downstairs. 

“Smells great H, thank you,” she said grabbing her plate and adding the pancakes, syrup, some fruits, and hash browns as well.

Stuffing her face with the pancakes “ ‘s so good H ‘ank you” she pointed to her plate of food with the fork. 

“Hmm” Harry hummed back nodding his head and digging into his eggs. 

After breakfast, Harry went up to get ready. As he was getting ready Y/N was thinking about the news. 

Should she tell him it’ll ruin his career, how should I tell him if I do? 

“Babe you coming with?” Harry interrupted her thought coming down the stairs wearing Nike shorts with a matching hoodie, a cap with sunglasses, and sneakers. 

“Yeah, but can I steal your glasses I don’t have makeup on.” she asked with a pout giving her the glasses and mumbling under his breath something between the line of “don’t need makeup” and they both headed out for their day. 

“Love I can’t find my sunglasses and journal have you seen them” Harry yelled from upstairs, looking everywhere in your room. 

It had been two weeks since Y/N knew she was pregnant and she still didn’t figure out a way to tell Harry. Harry had another studio session today to continue writing for his second album but Y/N wasn’t going, she had wanted to catch up on some work emails.

“No, I didn’t see them” yelling back not aware of her surroundings. 

Meanwhile, in their room Harry had looked everywhere he can but one place he didn’t look was Y/N’s nightstand on side of her bed. They don’t through each other's nightstand it’s where they keep personal things, however, Harry had remembered he handed Y/N his journal to read one of his songs before going to sleep, she must’ve put it in there. He would usually ask her permission or she would do it herself but he was running late already. He had walked over to her nightstand, opening the drawer he saw his brown journal inside. Smiling to himself he had picked it up as he was closing the draw he couldn’t help but see the three tests that were under his journal. With frowned brows He had collected the test forgetting about his journal looking at them, they all had two lines. He had let out a shaky breath as he went down the stairs his mind was racing. Looking for her he finally found her at the kitchen table in front of her computer screen. She was wearing one of his shirts, a messy bun, and had one leg up on the chair almost like hugging herself. “Lovie” he called out for her quietly. His only response from her was a hum not even bothering to look up at him. “Y/N,” he said more sternly this time.

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