#harry styles x reader
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MAKE HER REGRET IT
A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!
WORD COUNT: 4.1k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.
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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago.
You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child.
Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles.
It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor.
“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks.
“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent.
Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason.
You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe.
When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much.
The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery.
“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression.
“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts.
Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him.
“What’s up?”
“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”
Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside.
“Do tell me.”
Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter.
“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”
“When will the part where I can help come?”
“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”
You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him.
“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”
The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much.
“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”
“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing.
“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”
“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide.
“Y-You will do it?”
“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there.”
For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell.
When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever.
“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head.
“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”
“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.
“Sorry, yeah come inside.”
“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with.
“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”
“I have.”
“Really?”
“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”
“Then… I trust you with anything.”
“What’s the goal?”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind.
“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”
“I want to make her regret it.”
“Regret what she said?”
“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises.
“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly.
At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation.
And then the bell rings.
“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again.
You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you.
“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up.
“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable.
“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”
Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well.
“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it.
“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”
“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”
“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues.
“That’s none of my business.”
“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”
“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.
Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here.
“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.
“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”
“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”
It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature.
“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”
She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her.
And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts.
“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.
“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”
“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”
“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything.
You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost.
“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move.
Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily.
It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss.
It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses.
And then you remember you’re not alone.
“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it.
“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.
“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly.
Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned.
“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you.
Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.
“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”
The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his.
Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like.
“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast.
“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door.
“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”
He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.
“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders.
The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit.
“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars.
You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before.
You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone.
You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is.
“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining.
Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time.
When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing.
“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”
“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly.
“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.
“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.”
He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before.
“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.
“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now.
“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard.
There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work.
“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words.
“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”
You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge.
Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you.
“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”
You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair.
When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble.
Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”
Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss.
“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”
“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily.
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5. seasoned to perfection (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here) | (part 4 here)
Summary: Harry comes back, and the pent-up tensions and frustrations from the day you met are released, in the literal sense. he's vulnerable too, but it's for your eyes only..
Words: 6k+
Warnings: Fluff, Smut. P in v sex in the driver's seat 🤭, kissing, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.
***
Harry was back in Chicago two days later, just as he'd promised. A profound sense of relief washed over you the moment his broad-shouldered figure appeared striding through the airport terminal - he looked exhausted and careworn, but his stride was purposeful, that familiar spark of intensity simmering behind his hazel eyes.
Despite the lingering worry etched into the lines of his face, Harry flashed you a lopsided grin as he drew closer. "Well if it ain't my star pupil, coming to greet her mentor like the proper respectful protegee she is."
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress the matching grin that tugged at your own mouth. "Don't get too full of yourself there . I'm just here to collect on those celebratory drinks you promised."
"Is that so?" Harry's raspy chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as he closed the remaining distance between you. Up close, you could better make out the faint smudges of fatigue ringing his eyes, the weary set of his shoulders that hinted at the emotional toll this family crisis had already exacted.
"I sure am lucky you pulled through like a total rockstar the other night, darlin'," he said, voice softening with sincerity. "Don't know what kind of state my head would be in right now if that whole gala affair had gone pear-shaped on top of everything else."
You felt your chest constrict with sympathy at the undercurrent of weariness bleeding into his gravelly timbre. For all his towering self-assurance, it was still far too easy to catch glimpses of the profoundly lonely man beneath.
"Hey," you said softly, emboldened enough to reach out and give his forearm a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay, you know? One way or another."
"Yeah, I know," he acknowledged after a beat, hazel eyes crinkling faintly at the corners as he regarded you. Impulsively, Harry reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face in an unexpectedly tender gesture. "Thanks for being here, pet. I could use a friendly face right about now."
You felt your breath catch at the gentle rasp of his rough fingertips grazing your cheek as they fell away. A look passed between you, heavy with unspoken undercurrents simmering just beneath the surface.
Harry seemed to catch himself after a pregnant pause, giving a slightly brusque clearing of his throat as he took a half-step back. "Anyway, I'm betting you're just aching to hear all the dirty details about how your old mentor totally knocked it out of the park running my crazy-ass centerpiece for the gala, am I right?"
The teasing rasp was back in full force, but you could have sworn you detected an undercurrent of...flirtation? Nerves fizzing in your veins, you forced an answering grin. "Well, I definitely wouldn't say no to getting an extremely thorough debrief on all the specifics."
"That's what I like to hear," Harry chuckled, reaching down to snag your bag before you could protest. "C'mon then, let's get out of this madhouse. I'll fill you in on every juicy detail over a proper meal - hell, I might even let you buy me a congratulatory drink for once."
You rolled your eyes at his cheek but didn't object as Harry slung your bag over his shoulder and began leading the way out of the crowded airport terminal, one calloused hand at the small of your back guiding you through the milling crowds. The innocent point of contact still managed to raise gooseflesh along your skin.
"I hope wherever we're going has a full bar," you quipped once you made it outside, drawing a rich chuckle from your mentor.
"Have I ever let you down before on the booze front, darlin'? Though I gotta warn you, I might have to start cutting you off early tonight if you get too sloppy with the drinking."
You snorted indelicately. "Please, like your liver could even hang with mine these days. I'll be the one cutting YOU off before the night is over, old man."
"Old man?!" Harry's brows shot upward in mock outrage. "Well aren't you a cheeky little thing. Maybe I oughta just turn this reunion car right back around, huh?"
You grinned unrepentantly. "And deprive yourself of soaking up my full admiration for how flawlessly I executed your crazy dish the other night? I don't think so, Chef. You're stuck with me now."
A look you didn't quite catch flickered over Harry's face before his expression softened into something tender and...admiring? "You got me there, pet. I really am damn lucky I've got someone as fiercely dedicated and hardworking as you lookin' out for me."
He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as the valet pulled up a sleek black car. "C'mon then, let's go get that drink and hear all about how you made your old mentor proud once again."
With that, Harry opened the passenger door in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture, making a theatrical play act of ushering you inside before circling around to the driver's side. Despite the lingering exhaustion evident in his features, an unmistakable lightness and sense of humor had returned to Harry's manner now that he was back in your company. You found yourself charmed all over again by his trademark swagger and grit.
Once Harry had pulled out into Chicago's hectic downtown traffic, he gave a weary but contented exhale. "God, I really did miss the hell out of this place while I was gone. Nothing quite like the thrill of the culinary world, am I right?"
"I'll say," you agreed easily, draining the last of your bottled water. "That whole gala evening was an adrenaline rush like none other."
"So go on then, darlin' - give me all the dirty deets from the frontlines." Hazel eyes glittered with renewed energy as Harry flashed you a wolfish grin. "Did Thomason end up being a totally insufferable hard-ass running the kitchen in my absence, or what?"
Unable to resist indulging him a bit, you launched into a play-by-play recap of how the evening had kicked off. "Well, I'll say this - your boy definitely mastered the art of brusque delegating from the moment I stepped through those doors."
"That definitely tracks," Harry chuckled in amusement.
You held up your hands in a placating gesture. "But honestly, he managed to not be a total nightmare for once. Sure, there were still barked insults and slews of obscenities flying around...but Thomason weirdly seemed more patient with me than usual."
"My best guess is that the hardass saw how much weight I was putting on your shoulders to make sure the night went smoothly," Harry supplied. "He knows damn well not to get in my way when I've got a white whale in my sights."
You felt an undeniable swell of pride at his matter-of-fact confidence in your abilities. "Well, whatever the reason, I can't deny Thomason at least made sure I got briefed on every single responsibility under my purview upfront. Nothing left out or unclear."
"Good, that's what I want to hear," Harry nodded in approval. "You damn well better have been prepped to the gills on every last particular after all the hours we spent running scenarios during practice."
"Oh he made sure of it, believe me," you assured him wryly. "I don't think my head stopped spinning from all the prep tasks and oversight duties he laid on me until we were halfway into evening service."
"That's my girl, always rising to the occasion no matter what fresh hell gets thrown your way," Harry said with unmistakable pride. His gaze flicked over to you with open fondness. "So go on then, I'm dying' to hear about the actual execution part. Did the crew and I at least have you guys trained up good to handle the intricate stuff?"
As if on cue, your mouth curved into a smug grin. "Does a flawless plating of your avant-garde centrepiece dish answer your question? Because let me tell you, Chef, those practice runs may have been hellish - but they paid off in spades. We didn't miss a single beat from start to finish on that thing."
Pride resonated in Harry's rumbling laugh. "Ha! That's what I like to hear. I knew I could count on you to hold down the fort and keep those yutz line cooks from falling apart under the pressure."
"Wow, you really are impressed, huh?" You couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day where Harry dolled out such lavish praise."
Harry shot you a wry look, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement. "What can I say, you bring out the sappy side in me sometimes, darlin'. Must be all those gooey mentor-mentee feelings."
You laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Sure, keep telling yourself that's what it is. I think we both know the real reason you're so proud of me right now."
"Oh yeah?" Harry's voice dropped an octave, taking on that low, rumbly timbre that never failed to send a shiver down your spine. "And what's that, sweetheart?"
You felt your cheeks warm at the heated undertone in his words, suddenly very aware of the charged tension crackling between you in the confines of the car. Clearing your throat, you opted for a subject change. "So, uh, I have to ask - how are things with your mom? Any updates there?"
Harry's expression sobered instantly, some of the lightness dimming from his eyes as he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "It's...been a rough couple of days, that's for sure. But the doctors seem cautiously optimistic after running all their tests and whatnot."
He exhaled a ragged sigh, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead. "They were able to get her stabilized, at least. Still lots of treatment and recovery ahead, but...the prognosis isn't quite as dire as we initially feared."
"Harry." You reached over to cover his hand with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's such a relief to hear. I'm so glad she's going to be okay."
He glanced over at the contact, eyes flickering with some indecipherable emotion before he slowly turned his palm to lace his fingers through yours. The simple gesture felt impossibly intimate in the dim confines of the car.
"Yeah, me too, pet," Harry said gruffly. He fell silent for a long moment, seeming to struggle against the swell of emotion welling up behind his gruff exterior. When he finally continued, his voice had gone low and husky.
"I gotta admit, having to leave everything and fly out there on such short notice...well, it really puts a lotta stuff in perspective for me, you know? Reminds me that there's more to life than just the goddamn kitchen for once."
You felt your breath catch at the sudden vulnerability in his tone, the rawness shining through those rough-hewn features. This was such an unprecedented side of Harry - one you'd never seen him display so openly before. He wasn't the type to indulge in sappy feelings or put his heart on display.
And yet here he was, opening up to you in a way that felt profoundly intimate. Impulsively, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging him to continue.
Harry's gaze was soft when he finally looked over at you again. "I've been so focused for so damn long on my career, on chasing that elusive Michelin star...putting in more hours at the restaurant than I do actually sleeping most weeks. It's been all-consuming, you know? To the point where I've let other important stuff get shoved to the back burner for way too long."
There was a weighty pause before he added in a quieter tone, "Stuff like...well, like relationships. Connections with people outside of the kitchen brat pack. Hell, even making time for my own family before it's too late."
His calloused thumb brushed over your knuckles, sending sparks skittering across your skin. "Being out there this week, it made me realize how much I've let slide while chasing my big culinary dreams. How many people and opportunities I've missed out on by being so goddamn single-minded about the hustle."
You felt your heart give a hard thud in your chest at his words, an undercurrent of meaning thrumming through every syllable Harry uttered. Was he actually...was this leading where you desperately hoped it was leading?
"I don't know, Y/N," he continued, voice going soft and rumbly in a way you'd never heard it before. "Maybe it's time I start setting aside room for more than just food in my life again, you know? Making space for the other shit that actually matters in the end."
Without warning, the car slowed before pulling over to the side of the road. You looked around in surprise, momentarily disoriented - only to suck in a sharp breath when you felt the warm press of Harry's palm cradling your jaw, gently but insistently turning your face towards his own.
His hazel eyes were turbulent but gleaming with unmistakable intent as they roamed over your features, seeming to drink in every last freckle and curve. "Like people," Harry murmured, deep voice gone even more rough and gravelly. "Important people who've been right there in front of me this whole damn time, just waiting for me to get my head out of my ass."
Your mouth went dry as his thumb brushed over the swell of your lower lip in a devastatingly tender caress. "You've been so goddamn strong for me lately, darlin'," he rasped. "Taking charge and killing it even when I had to bail on you guys. Honestly, I've never seen someone rise to an occasion like you did with that whole centerpiece service."
A surge of molten heat flared in his gaze as Harry slowly, incrementally leaned closer with every gravelly word. "Which just makes me wonder...what if I told you how crazy you've been driving me lately with that fierce, take-no-shit attitude and work ethic? How distractingly sexy it's been watching you come into your own in the kitchen?"
Coherent thoughts fled in the wake of his scorching words. All you could process was the heated intent burning from every line of his expression, the delicious timbre of his voice as one calloused palm slid around to cradle the nape of your neck.
Any remaining space between you evaporated as Harry drew inexorably nearer, heated breaths fanning over your parted lips. "Maybe it's time we both stopped ignoring this crazy tension that's been building between us, eh?" His words were nearly a growl, sending liquid fire pooling low in your belly.
"Tell me you want this as badly as I do, darlin'," Harry rasped, nose brushing against yours. "Tell me, and I swear to god I'll - "
Whatever devastatingly filthy promise he'd been about to make was suddenly cut off as you surged upwards to crash your lips against his in a heated clash of hunger and need. Harry made a noise of surprise that quickly morphed into a guttural groan as his big hands pulled you flush against his powerful frame, deepening the kiss with smoldering intensity.
All the frustration and undercurrent of want that had simmered untapped for months between you both finally found an outlet as his mouth slanted hungrily over yours. Harry tasted like smoky whiskey and roasted espresso, the scents you'd unknowingly committed to memory from hours spent shadowing him in the kitchen. Now you could finally indulge in the addictive flavor without restraint, losing yourself in the velvet heat of his lips and the wicked stroke of his tongue.
A desperate whimper escaped you as Harry's fingers wound through your hair, tugging just enough to angle your head for even deeper exploration. He swallowed the sound with relish, growling low in his chest as he took control of the ferocious give and take - a twin to the commanding yet sensual way he moved around the kitchen.
Time seemed to lose meaning as you kissed with reckless abandon, hands roaming wildly over the other's body. Your fingers brushing over Harry's hard pecs and rippling abs, committing every ridge and plane to memory. His calloused palms skimming over the flare of your hips, teasing at the sliver of exposed skin above your waistband as he tugged your shirts aside.
"Fuck," he growled, still cradling you tightly against his muscular frame. One hand drifted up the length of your spine to sift through your tousled hair, something breathtakingly tender. "Been wanting to do that for way too goddamn long, sweetheart."
You let out a shaky exhalation, riding the waves of tingling euphoria coursing over your skin. "Me too," you confessed in a huskier tone than you'd ever heard yourself use before. "God, Harry, I–” you stopped the rest of the words before they escaped your mouth, afraid you were going too far too fast. But he tilted his head downwards, raising his eyebrows and asking you to tell him whatever the hell you wanted to.
“I– say it, darlin’” he urged, swiping one thumb over your face, grazing it tenderly across the apple of your cheek, “No more secrets”
Eventually, the scorching inferno of desire raging between you banked to a low, smoldering burn...though no less devastatingly intense for the minor reprieve. Finally, you drew back just far enough for Harry to rest his forehead against yours, harsh breaths intermingling hotly.
You nodded, taking a deep breath and looking straight into his emerald eyes, “I–I, fuck, I need you, Harry. So–so fucking bad it–hurts”
You confessed, and the look that crossed Harry's face was one mixed with relief and the tiniest hint of lust.
You didn’t need to tell him twice because you barely had the time to catch your breath when he crashed his lips down on top of yours, claiming them once again. He slid so he was more close to you now, hands gripping the back of your head and keeping your face in place for him to kiss you hard. He had been waiting for this for so long–all the longing glances, the pent up, fucked up frustration in him–he was bearing all of it into the kiss that left your mind dizzy and lips swollen./
“Fucking exquisite”
He praised you, and you blushed into his mouth. It was all a blur after that–he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you from the passenger seat and maneuvering you into his lap. You lowered yourself down, the front of your jeans making a slight contact with the tip of his clothed cock, and the whine he let out was pure sin.
“Gonna make me burst”
He held on to your hips, kneading them in his palms as he watched you settle on top of him. You skillfully aligned his seat as abc as it could go, so he was almost laying down while you sat on top of him.
“THose hands–they aren’t just good in the kitchen, are they?” he teased, and since now you were on top, you were feeling more powerful.
“Mhmm,” you agreed, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his chest, smoothening your hands down his golden chest, “Wait till you see what else I can do with these”
He let out a gasp as you leaned in, licking up his abs, and kissing his butterfly tattoo. His hands slid to your waist, kneading the soft flesh in his palms and letting you admire and worship his body.
“Cheeky minx “ he said, but the words were swallowed into a groan as you sucked on his nipples, biting them softly and smirking when he rolled his hips upward. He was getting desperate, hips lifting up every now and then in need for relief.
You continued the onslaught of kisses, but wanted to give the poor millionaire some relief. You reached for the button of his pants, undoing it and unzipping his fly. Sitting back up, you pulled them down to his knees, and the sight of his boxers tented…his cock begging to be released from its confines made your mouth water.
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He sat back up, making you fall back against the steering wheel but caught you just in time, resting his palms on your back. Once you were stable, he undid your jeans as well, wasting no time in pushing one hand inside.
“Oh fuck–Harry–” you cursed, and he could see it on your face–pure lust and arousal. He began to swipe his fingers between your lips, spreading the wetness around and finding your clit–expertly rolling the soft bundle of nerves between his fingers that had you curling your toes. He looked straight into your eyes while doing that too–watching you fall apart from just his fingers.
Once he was done teasing you, he circled his fingers around your entrance, which was completely, devastatingly soaked. You had been dreaming of this for so long–wanting this for so long that now when you were finally going to have him, it felt straight out of a dream.
“So fucking wet–all for me?” he asked, and you nodded, “All–all for you, chef”
“Fuckin’ tease” he cursed before pulling his fingers out, which were now covered in your slick and arousal, and pulling his boxers down, letting hsi cock spring free.
You had seen many cocks. In porn, in real life. But seeing his cock–thick and long, slightly curved towards the tip, which would make it the perfect fit for your needy pussy. The tip was a perfect shade of purplish-red, with a few drops of precum oozing out and making your mouth water once again. You wanted him in your mouth. And he did too, but right now, there wasn’t much time.
You lifted yourself up, pulling your jeans and panties down in one go, till they were near your knees just like his. Positioning yourself right on top of him, he gave his cock a few stroked before resting one hand on your hip. You placed your hands on his shoulders for support, and once your pussy was in contact, his eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.
But he didn’t push it in just yet–rubbed it back and forth between your lips, till your legs threatened to give out, and you squeezed his shoulder.
“Alright, no take backs–” he whispered, and aligned it with your hole, and you pushed yourself down on him, and fuck–was it worth it.
Once he was inside, your mouth fell open. You had been wet, and he hand;t prepped you too much because of it. But the sweet burn of him pushing it in fully–it fueled into your pain kink, and you bit your lower lip, getting up and lowering yourself down on him fully, till your hips were touching his heavy balls.
“So full, I–I feel so fucking full, Harry–” you told him, and he nodded, his adam apple bobbing. He pulled you down for another kiss, and using both hands, he began fucking you on him.
You moaned and screamed into the kiss, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your cervix, his precum leaking from his tip continuously. While you were sure you would be able to take the lead, giving up control and letting him use your body however he wanted–it made you feel really fucking good.
“Good, so fucking good, pet, so tight and snug around me, aren’t you? Could fuck you for days, I swear–”
You would get back at him on that promise for sure, later.
“Denied me of this sweet cunt for so long–gave me those fuck me eyes the first day you came into my restaurant.”
You tried to shake your head to tell him how that wasn’t true, but the words lodged in your throat. You didn’t know how you looked at him, he did.
“No–no Harry, fuck–, I–I wanted to–”
“Fuck me, hmm? The first day you saw me?” he teased, and you pulled his ear lightly.
“No, you dumbo. I–I wanted to push you against the counter and pin your hands beside you and–”
“And fuck me?” he finished your sentence once again, and to get back at him, you squeezed around him. You did it with all the strength you had, and you could swear you felt him harden just a little bit more inside you.
“And how is that different from what I said?” he asked, and you placed your hand over his mouth to shut him up. You tried to ride him this time, using his strong chest to fuck yourself up and down, till your wetness was pooling on the base of his cock. It was a wet mess–your arousals mixed together on the top of his thighs and you were positive it slipped through to the seat.
“Make me–make me cum, chef-” you said, and you felt him smile against your palm. You lifted it up, and he pinned your hands behind your back immediately.
“Chef, huh?” he taunted, and pulled you down for another kiss, halting for mere seconds before you came all over him–wetness oozing out and wetting his cock and balls. He pushed his tongue inside your mouth, the movements mirroring those of his cock in your pussy. It wasn’t long before he came too, emptying himself into your snug heat with a low groan.
He made out with you throughout–never letting your lips rest as his seed filled you up to the brim. The warm feeling had you dizzy, being filled up by the man you admired and wanted for years.
Once you were relaxed, tongues dancing in slow motions, he pulled out and pulled your panties back in place, saving his cum from falling into embarrassing places. You rolled your eyes at him, adjusting your clothes and sitting back on the seat beside.
His eyes gazed into yours with adoration, the car filled with the smell of sex and sweat. The lingering scent of finally giving into something that was building up since day one–it made you feel happy and vulnerable.
He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, letting his palm linger against your cheek in a tender caress.
"You know, I meant what I said before about not wanting to let this amazing opportunity between us slip away," he murmured, eyes shining sincerely. "After everything we've been through, you've become one of the most important people in my life, darlin'."
You felt your heart swell at his words, leaning into his touch with a soft smile. "And you're one of the most incredible men I've ever known, Harry. I'm just...I'm so grateful we finally took this leap together."
Chuckling warmly, Harry pulled you into a snug embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. "Well, you'd better get used to having me around then, sweetheart. Because I don't plan on going anywhere."
Reaching up, you cradled his whiskered jaw, marveling at how such a hardened culinary genius could look so endearingly unsure in the wake of baring his heart. A soft smile curved your lips as you stroked along the line of his cheekbone with your thumb.
"Harry," you began, keeping your tone low and earnest. "I just want you to know...what we share goes far deeper for me than just some crush or physical attraction. You've been such an incredible mentor, certainly - pushing me to my limits and helping me discover a resilience I didn't know I had. But more than that, you've also become one of the most important people in my life these past few months."
He seemed to still against you, holding his breath as he searched your expression intently. Encouraged by the yearning shining from those soulful hazel eyes, you pressed onward.
"From the very first day, there was just...something about the way you carry yourself in that kitchen, so passionate and uncompromising in your artistry. It inspired me in a way I've never experienced before. And as I got to know the man behind the chef's coat better and better, that admiration grew into something...well, something I couldn't ignore or push away, no matter how much I tried."
You gave a rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "Not that I'm proud of how I handled that, especially at first. I was so terrified of being just another young line cook with an embarrassing crush on the big-shot chef, you know? Of risking the most rewarding professional relationship I've ever had by letting feelings get in the way. So I tried my damnedest to squash it down and keep things strictly business between us."
Harry made a low noise of understanding, one calloused palm drifting up to cradle the side of your face with ineffable tenderness. The pad of his thumb brushed over your lower lip as he gazed at you with naked longing.
"But the more time we spent together, the more I came to realize I wasn't alone in what I was feeling," you continued, emboldened by the smoldering affection gleaming in his expression. "Those heated looks and moments of banter that always left me weak in the knees...the way you'd find any excuse to touch me, even if it was just your hand on my back or brushing my arm. And don't think I didn't catch that molten vibe you gave me after the gala service the other night, Harry."
You gave a breathless chuckle at the memory, watching in satisfaction as his eyes darkened perceptibly from the reminder. "Point is, it's been pretty damn obvious to me for a while now that this crazy, inexplicable tension has been building between us. And after tonight...after you pour your heart out about wanting to open yourself up to something deeper outside of just the kitchen...well, I knew I had to finally stop fighting it."
Cradling his rugged features between your palms, you gazed at Harry with profound sincerity. "I don't want to just be another protegee you take under your wing, Harry. I want...god, I want so much more than that if you'll have me. As more than just your mentee."
The silence that fell between you seemed to stretch out into infinite stillness - until finally, Harry broke it with a shuddering exhalation. His features softened into an expression of pure affection and naked vulnerability.
"Darlin'," he murmured in that low, gravelly timbre that had haunted your dreams. "I gotta say, you're one hell of a woman. Smart, fiercely passionate, and talented as all hell in the kitchen. Any chef in their right mind would count themselves lucky to have that kind of force on their line."
One calloused thumb brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead in an achingly tender gesture. "But the more I got to know you, the more I realized you were so much more than just a hell of a cook. You've got this...this fire inside, this core of unshakable integrity, that shines through in everything you do."
A slow, lopsided grin curved his mouth as Harry seemed to drink in your features hungrily. "Truth is, I've been half in love with you since the first time you went toe-to-toe with me over mise en place and didn't back down one inch. Kidfron called me out a while back, said I needed to get my head out and stop being an idiot about my feelings before I lost my shot with you. And you know what? He was right."
You heard the sharp breath you sucked in at his unexpected confession, suddenly feeling lightheaded from the rushing euphoria of having your own deepest desires affirmed. Harry's smile softened into something unbearably tender.
"I meant what I said earlier, about needing to start making room in my life for stuff that actually matters now," he murmured. "No more letting amazing opportunities or people slip through my fingers while I'm off chasing the next culinary high, you know? From here on out, I wanna do this thing with you - the real deal, not just heated flings or fooling around when it's convenient."
One calloused palm drifted up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your wildly fluttering pulse. "That is...if you're sure you want to go all in with this crazy bastard and whatever baggage he's got. Because I sure as shit don't plan on letting you go after everything we've been through, darlin'. You're stuck with me now."
The last words were issued in a low, rumbly rasp brimming with naked want and promise. You felt a shiver of pure yearning race down your spine as Harry slowly, inexorably drew you back into the smoldering field of his orbit.
"Just to be clear," you murmured, drunk on the whiskey-smoke scent and pure masculine essence of him, "I am absolutely, one-hundred percent sure I want to dive into this thing with you, Harry . The real deal, as you put it - not as mentor and mentee, but as...as partners in every sense of the word."
A smile you couldn't suppress bloomed over your features as you nuzzled his whiskered jaw adoringly. "You, me, and whatever crazy culinary adventures lie ahead...I can't wait."
Harry rumbled out a low, contented chuckle that vibrated against your skin deliciously. "Sounds perfect to me, darlin'," he rasped, "Absolutely freakin' perfect."
Silence fell between you then, stretching out in a tender, infinitely rich moment of shared affection and promise. Of two hearts irreversibly entwined, embarking together on an endeavor that would change the course of both your lives immeasurably.
Though the road ahead would surely present its own tangle of twists, turns, and daunting challenges yet to come...in that ephemeral pocket of stillness, cradled in the heart of Harry's powerful embrace, you had never felt more vibrantly alive or certain of the path destiny had laid out before you.
No matter what obstacles or battles awaited around the bend, you knew without a shred of doubt that you would confront them as you did everything else - side-by-side with your partner, your equal, your soulmate in every possible sense. Two culinary spirits, unified at long last in a blissful, rapturous understanding.
The rest of the world could keep spinning wildly outside the sheltered cocoon you had woven together. But in this perfect, crystalline moment frozen in time...nothing else mattered beyond the blazing truth ignited between you. From here on out, you would walk through the fire of any culinary pursuit, hand-in-hand, soul-to-soul alongside the man who held your heart.
And in the end, that's all that would ever matter again.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! this series is done, but I'm always open to doing extras and check-ins!
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Y/N’s never been with a man like Harry before. (Blurb)
A/N: I haven’t posted any content on here for a while (but I’m working on it I promise), so here’s a little blurb for you darlings — I’m also opening up requests again so if you have any blurb ideas, feel free to send them in <3
//
For as long as she could remember, Y/N had always done everything when it came to relationships. The cooking, the cleaning, the date planning — all of it. It was never like that in the beginning, of course. Most men would love-bomb and tell her everything she wanted to hear. She’d never realise until it was too late.
That’s how it always happened.
And yet, she always allowed herself to forget those signs whenever she met someone new. Always told herself that it wasn’t fair to pre-judge anybody and that perhaps that’s just how they were and it wasn’t an act.
It was foolish, really — her way of thinking. Because time and time again, they always proved her wrong, always left her feeling alone and unappreciated until she finally bucked up the courage to call it quits and leave.
She tried to be more weary of it when she met Harry. She found herself mentally scrutinising every word he spoke, every promise he made. She’d lock everything away in a safe in her mind that she’d go back through if he ever slipped up or started showing signs that he wasn’t who he portrayed himself to be when they first met.
But that day didn’t come, it still hadn’t.
In Y/N’s most recent relationship, she’d never been so low. She’d stupidly agreed to move in with James and from there, it went downhill pretty fast. He never cleaned up after himself, ever. His damp towels would be left on the bathroom floor, his empty beer bottles and candy wrappers would be left on the counter instead of in the bin, and the one time he did wash the dishes after dinner, he made a right cock out of it.
Weaponised incompetence was what she remembered her mother calling it. When somebody purposely carries out a task poorly as to not be asked to do it again.
He didn’t cook, had no idea how to use the washing machine and at one point made it blatantly clear that because he worked, he shouldn’t have to come home and do chores around the house after.
That was the cherry on top for her. Because Y/N worked, too. She worked the same kind of hours and still did everything in the home and cleaned up after him day in and day out.
When her and Harry first started dating, she kept her heart close to her chest. She was far too afraid of making the same mistakes as last time, of wasting time and energy into someone who isn’t willing to give her one-hundred percent back.
But Harry did.
Harry cooked on nights that Y/N cleaned and vice versa. She never once had to ask him to pick up his damp towel or put his rubbish in the bin. Harry just did these things. He changed the sheets on his own accord, he did more laundry than Y/N and he enjoyed a weekly Sunday deep clean with her, blaring music and lighting a candle at the end of it.
Tonight was no different. She came home from work a little later than usual and dinner was already waiting for her on the table. Harry had remembered she texted earlier in the day that she was feeling under the weather, and prepared her some chicken soup with buttered rolls for as soon as she got home.
A bubble bath was run and fresh pyjamas were warming in the dryer. The floors had been hoovered and mopped, the laundry was folded and hung in the wardrobes and the trash had been taken out.
The realisation of something that happened every day hit her tonight for some reason. Perhaps because Harry picked up the chores she typically did as well, or maybe because he thought of her and did the dinner and bath to make her life a little easier.
Either way, it had tears stinging her vision and her heart thumping. It was silly, really. She was getting emotional over her partner doing the bare minimum — him pulling his weight and keeping their home clean.
“What’s a’matter?” His gentle voice cooed from across the table.
Y/N smiled tearily, taking a bite out of her roll as she shook her head. She didn’t want to make a thing out of this — she knew he’d only laugh at her and call her a numpty. (Which in this instance, she was.)
“Nothing, I just appreciate this a lot,” she swallowed her food as the tears began to dry.
Harry squinted at her, not quite buying what she was saying. “Y’sure? If the soups bad, you can be honest and tell me. Promise I won’t get too upset.”
She laughed at him, shaking her head. “I just hope you know how much I appreciate and acknowledge what you do in our home and our relationship. Thank you for not leaving everything on my shoulders.”
Harry’s face softened into one of adoration, like he couldn’t believe she was thanking him for doing what any responsible adult should. But he understood. She’d told him about her exes, about how she felt like their mother ninety percent of the time.
Harry couldn’t imagine ever being like that.
“I appreciate and acknowledge everything you do, too. Know you’ve had a rough day, didn’t want you coming home to stuff to do. You can have your soup, take a long bath and I even charged your Kindle.”
Y/N smiled at him, lovingly. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” Harry’s words were sincere, and she knew he meant what he said. “Oh, and I cancelled the plumber for tomorrow, so you can still get your nails done.”
She frowned, finishing the last of her soup. “Why? Did he come out today?”
“No,” Harry shook his head. “I sorted it.”
Y/N quirked a brow. “Sorted it as in…”
“As in I fixed the leak. You don’t need to hire maintenance people for the house, babe. If you notice something needs fixing just let me know and I’ll sort it.”
His statement shouldn’t have made her feel hot inside but it did. A man that would actively repair their house and not batter an eye or complain about it? That would do it without being asked?
Now, why the fuck did that turn her on?
//
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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (3)
harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU
Praying I am not being too much or embarrassing myself. Also I am still trying to figure things out. Please be patient and kind. Also thank you for the feedback on parts 1 and 2!
About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.
Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.
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PART 1 — MEET YN
PART 2 — LAS VEGAS
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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 3) — DENVER
(AKA ONLINE DRAMA)
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PART 4: THE VIDEO (soon)
#harry styles fake ig#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles fake social media#harry styles smau#harry styles social media au#harry styles x reader#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you
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Traditional - Extra VII
Read Traditional here | ~4.1k words
Warnings: smut. 18+ only. oral (m), sex, maybe public if you believe enough. Otherwise, it's kinda fluffy
From me: idk I think Harry can be a little TOO self-loathing. And he is really so sweet and nice overall. I think he deserves some TRADITIONAL sugar-daddy CEO treatment.
Summary: Harry is a lot calmer now that the client fiasco is over. But he's still on edge. Fortunately, she has an idea to take the edge off.
Harry was much more pleased with the direction of his company now that the biggest crisis of his career was finally in the rearview mirror. Now that her arm was healed and his clients were stable, everything was much better.
Except Harry didn’t fully accept it.
It was like there was a little worm in his brain that ate at him and whispered directly into the auditorial processing space that something, at any moment, would go wrong. The other shoe would drop and he would be back at square one.
“Baby?” She interrupted his thoughts of worthlessness and impostor syndrome. God he needed to see someone. But when was there time? “I asked about dinner, it’s Monday,” she reminded him gently. His mind reeling but he wanted to focus on her.
He wasn’t angry. For the first time in months. It felt like that for everyone around him. It created an entirely different vibe in the office. People weren’t scared during meetings. He didn’t slam his phone down when something was late.
But she noticed how withdrawn he was because she knew him.
“Are you alright?” Her voice wasn’t accusatory. It was still quiet. Like she was a little afraid she would set him off. But he hadn’t bought new electronics in months. The accounting department joked they would get to decrease the furniture budget this quarter as it closed. Harry couldn’t do anything but laugh because it was true. It was the first time he felt at ease since the mess happened.
It was awful.
“M’fine,” he smiled gently at her. It was their daily meeting. The one Harry didn’t even know they had until he saw it written on her calendar back when her cramps made her sleep through it. But he knew she didn’t believe his hand-waving denial. He wasn’t fine, she knew it.
“Okay,” she sipped her drink and eyed him suspiciously.
He was looking at the papers on his desk and every little negative number made his heart skip a beat.
This wasn’t healthy.
“Are you sure?” She asked again.
That wasn’t helping him either. How perceptive she was and knowing exactly what he was feeling. It was almost annoying that she could do it. All he wanted to do was hide his feelings from her the way he was supposed to, and she made it so difficult.
God, she was perfect.
He nodded silently, not looking up at her because if he did, she would read him like an open book. She would praise him and tell him he was perfect. He didn’t want that. It was stupid, but he needed to believe it himself. It was partially his own fault. Styles Inc. suffered very few hiccups other than getting up and running. Back when he had just graduated, and he had stuffed every penny he had into the two offices he and Niall needed to get started. It grew before his eyes. He believed he was important and doing important things. He knew he was talented and doing well.
Almost having to fire her was the worst wakeup call.
“Harry,” her voice broke his thoughts again.
“Yeah, kitten?” He hummed trying to admire the green numbers on the spreadsheet before him. They were large and lovely. The red ones amounted to next to nothing in comparison. But it didn’t matter. They were terrifying.
“Baby, I just asked you if you think I should go out for drinks with a client that keeps hitting on me so that we can get a bigger contract from him, and you said that was a good idea.”
His head snapped up. Jealousy pierced his heart and ran hot through his blood in seconds. “What client hits on you?” He scowled. They were dropping said client. Effective immediately. Not even feeling like an impostor would deter him from that kind of behavior. It wouldn’t matter if they were his biggest client either. If they were hitting on her—
“You really think a client would be stupid enough to hit on me knowing you’re my boyfriend?” She asked a slight smirk on her lips.
He ran a hand over his face. Of course they wouldn’t. Harry had a scary side, and everyone knew it. If they even tried to flirt with her Harry would probably break their neck. The little jealous monster inside of his head was more powerful than the worm that told him he wasn’t talented, and he could lose it all at a moment’s notice.
And he hated that word lately. He needed to add another reminder on his phone to remedy that immediately as well. Boyfriend. It was so childish sounding. He was a successful businessman, and he had a gorgeous girlfriend who made him feel like... well... like he deserved to own such a successful company. Fiancé. Husband. That had a nicer ring to it. He needed to fix that soon.
“Harry,” she giggled.
“What?”
“You’re staring at me,” she was blushing. Looked away as she sat in the chair across from him on the other side of the desk.
He sighed and smiled tiredly. “Course,” he really looked at her again, not just spaced out like he had been doing. The way her hair fell, the way her lip gloss coated her straw. The way her nail polish chipped—he would send her for a manicure (with Eleanor so she’d actually go) even though she preferred when Harry painted them—hence the chipping.
Harry was so captivated by her. It did seem like a crime that he hadn’t given her his full attention during their coffee break. Part of him thought she should model for offices or office furniture. It was sexist and lizard-brained of him. But she was so pretty it was the only thing he could think of in that moment. Then he considered the notion of her being a professor or a doctor—even though he knew she wasn’t qualified for it. But it didn’t matter. He suspected she could do it without training. She was too lovely. The fact that she was intelligent and beautiful and nice was unfair. He didn’t deserve something so good when he could lose the biggest reason she was in his life. “You’re so pretty, kitten.”
Her cheeks turned red again. Harry thought he would explode. “Don’t change the subject.”
“M’not,” he pouted. She did the cute little nose wrinkle that made Harry’s heart skip a beat the same way the negative numbers on spreadsheets did but this time he didn’t mind.
“Your brain has been elsewhere during this whole meeting—”
“Can y’please stop calling it a meeting, kitten?” he grumbled. It felt so wrong to call it a meeting when he was in love with her. Like he needed a corporate excuse to have her sit in his office.
“Pretenses, baby. Don’t want anyone to know I’m your second favorite.”
He grunted, running a hand over his face as the irritation sank in again because of her words. “Niall is not m’favorite.”
She smiled impishly. Her cheeks looked like little apples that Harry wanted to kiss and take bites out of. Her eyes danced with mischievousness that he thought she could only have learned from Louis.
He loved her so much.
Which was why he was so mad that he was worried. If this company suffered the thought of letting her down, of telling her that he wasn’t successful anymore. He met her only because he did well and was successful. How would she love him if that wasn’t true anymore?
“Harry, I’m going to drag you to the hospital if you don’t tell me.”
“Can we talk ‘bout it at home?”
She frowned. “Oh, it’s not work related?” She asked.
He shook his head, confused as to how she would conclude such a thing. “What do y’mean?”
“Well... if it was work-related, you would tell me now. You only tell me relationship-related things at home. Which means now I have to go back to my office and conference call Louis and Eleanor and pull Niall from his work so we can discuss where I’m going to live because you can’t take the sound of me singing in the shower anymore. What’s worse is Louis will agree and he won’t want me to live with him and Eleanor either. Then I’ll have to find my own place and it won’t have room for a porch swing and—”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kitten, shut up,” he sighed. She smiled sweetly, unperturbed by the way he said it because he sounded exhausted with her, which was almost definitely her goal. He knew she liked to annoy him—even when he was already suffering internally.
“I don’t want to say it’s your fault, baby. But if you would just tell me what—”
“I don’t feel successful.”
She tilted her head at him curiously. “You don’t?”
He shook his head feeling the nerves in every inch of his skeleton. Right down to the bone. Past the bone. Probably to the atoms or even further to each proton and neutron. Telling her made it real. Telling her anything meant he had to deal with what he was feeling because she wouldn’t let him brush it away.
She was about as bad as the worm in his head.
“Okay,” she nodded. Then there was silence.
They stared at each other for a significant moment. Harry thought it could have been ten minutes, but it might have only been ten seconds. “You’re not going t’say anything?” He asked.
She shrugged. “I could,” she smiled gently. Almost pitifully. It made Harry feel the slightest bit worse. But then she made it better. Of course she did. She made everything seem so... simple. In the best way. A point of view he hadn’t considered. “I could ask you why. Or tell you how it’s not true—all of which I do believe. But I actually think it’s kind of more serious than that. I think you went through a really difficult thing. It piled and piled and you dealt with it. More than anyone here. Because you care and love this place with everything in you,” she listed. “I think you’ll need to talk to someone more qualified than me to fully deal with it. But I will list every reason why you’re completely, totally, and simply wrong another time. When you’re not so sad looking and it won’t fall on deaf ears,” she assured him with a pointed expression that he had fallen in love with so many times over it was uncanny.
Had he mentioned he loved her so much?
“Oh,” he murmured.
She stood up, moved around his desk and leaned against the edge in front of him. Her eyes didn’t move from his and she brought a hand to his face, traced the curve of his jaw, the soft pink lips she loved so much. “Why are you worried you’re not successful?” She asked.
She really knew where to hit him where it hurt. “Y’won’t love me...if m’not successful.”
“Harry,” she cooed. “Baby—”
“I know,” he turned into her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “But I... I only met y’because m’successful. If m’not... then...”
“You know I don’t love you because you have money, right? We’ve been over this.”
“I know,” he nodded. “Really, I do. But s’like...there’s something in m’brain, kitten. I can’t turn it off and m’exhausted. After all that... I mean... y’saw. It was reallybad. Like really bad. M’still kind of worried and—what are you doing?”
“Turning your brain off,” she smiled, full of mischief once more as she slunk down to her knees. She wiggled into the space of his desk where he normally pushed his chair in. “Surely you’ve thought about this?” She asked, her hand sliding up his thigh.
Harry was suddenly illiterate. And mute. What was she talking about? Were they talking about something? The only thing he could hear was his uneven breath and the clinking sound of his belt and zipper. “Oh,” he groaned as her lips mouthed at the outline of his dick against his briefs.
“Cause I’ve thought about it. A lot.”
“You have?” He murmured dumbly.
She nodded, looking up at him from between his legs, crammed under his desk. It was a fantasy he hadn’t even imagined before thirty seconds prior and there she was: making it come true. Her lashes seemed so long, and her hand was massaging him through his underwear. His heart was pounding. All thoughts of negative numbers were gone.
She deserved a raise.
Her fingers hooked around his underwear, and she tugged on them, pulling him free. He didn’t even realize he was straining against the fabric. Within seconds her lips enveloped around him, and she sucked quickly. Hard. Everything was warm and wet instantly.
Harry had done this before with the companions he had found on the very website he found her, but he wished he never had because this was her. She was so perfect. She was everything he wanted. She was beneath his desk making him feel important and it was so ridiculous for him to feel that way but it worked. It was working.
Her mouth was meant to be around him. At least that was the way it felt. It never felt like this. She didn’t even care about herself. Which was fine because Harry would return whatever she gave him now plus interest. For the first time in a year, he felt utterly relaxed. Her head bobbing up and down the length of him. He put a hand on the back of her head, and she moaned softly sending a vibration through him and up to his chest. His cheeks felt hot. Not that he was embarrassed. But it was so much rapid blood flow. Everywhere. He was going to lose his mind.
There was a knock on the door.
She froze but didn’t remove her mouth from him. Harry grumbled a curse under his breath, carefully tucked himself further the edge of his desk without bumping her too much or crushing her. “Yeah?” He called tentatively.
Her lips focused on the tip of him making him struggle to maintain his composure.
“She’s not here?” Niall frowned from the doorway.
Harry shook his head staring at the screen trying not to let his best friend know that his girlfriend and Niall’s very favorite coworker was crammed beneath his desk and sucking him for all he was worth. Even though Niall was right there. “Ran an errand,” her tongue slid down the underside of him silently. He cleared his throat, shifted. Hoping she wouldn’t torture him in front of his best friend. When did she get so brave?
Oh. Traditional. That’s what that meant. Harry thought to himself.
“When she gets back can you ask her where the file from yesterday’s meeting is? I don’t want to mess with her organizational system,” she dug her nails into his thigh not very hard but so her presence was known. As if the thought of Niall messing with her system really was the worst thing he could do in that moment.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” Harry chuckled. But the movement made him shift in her mouth which nearly sent him cross-eyed. He cleared his throat again.
“You okay? She’s been worried about you.”
“M’fine,” he rolled his eyes.
She silently sucked harder as if to prove a point. Moved him further down her throat. Harry took a deep breath to maintain any semblance of control he had left over the situation. Which was very little.
“I like that she worries about you.”
“It’s unnecessary,” Harry muttered. To both of them.
“When are you going to marry her?” Niall asked.
That paused her. She released him, peered up through those sinful lashes and smiled more mischievously than he had ever seen. Harry shifted. Silently and blindly lining himself up with her mouth again to keep her from saying I knew it or just generally giving herself away in front of Niall. She obligingly took his length down her throat again and it was a miracle she didn’t make a sound with the amount of spit lodged in her mouth. “Soon,” he assured Niall.
“She left her cell in the office,” he said. “Hopefully she’s with the driver or something.”
“Yeah, I called for him,” he wanted Niall out. “What time are we teeing off tomorrow?” He asked the last bout of normalcy he had left in him. Her lips were dragging so slowly over him it felt nearly painful. The moment Niall left he was going to come.
“Nine fifteen.”
He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be by later for the new account model for—” He coughed as her fingers danced along the inside of his thighs, reaching for the space of his cock that didn’t fit in her mouth as well as underneath— “Excuse me,” he covered his mouth over the fake cough before dropping his hand to his lap—her head—and pushed ever so slightly toward the back of her throat. Fortunately, his phone rang. Niall nodded waving him off; allowing him to tend to his phone call—that he was not going to answer.
“I got it,” he assured him and closed the door.
Harry yanked from her mouth, shoved from the desk, barely pulling his pants up at all. He hurried across his office to twist the lock on his door. Once turned around, she was already there, knelt before him again and sucking him into her warm mouth again. Sucking hard. It was probably loud. Wet. Anyone that happened to be by his door at that moment would know what was happening on the other side. Maybe they would make a rumor. Maybe they would assume it was her—neither of which Harry wanted. “Not here, kitten,” he groaned quietly and lifted her begrudgingly from her knees. He pulled her toward the bathroom. He briefly thought of the first time he was in there with her, knelt himself, to take her shoe off and Louis and Eleanor assumed he was prepared to do something he loved doing to her and strongly considered doing it again. Just as he lifted her bum onto the counter she stopped him.
“Nope,” she slid down again. Knelt once more. “Said it was turning your brain off,” she reminded him. Her lips around his dick once again. Now, with an office separating them from the rest of the company, she openly slurped. Made obscene noises that would satisfy him just fine on business trips where he didn’t get to take her with him and leave him with nothing but fantasies before falling asleep in a lonely hotel room. He slammed the bathroom door shut just for further privacy.
He groaned lowly, meeting the bob of her head as gently as he could so as not to cause her to struggle but enjoying the warmth of her mouth and throat. Her lips looked so sexy around him he wasn’t going to last much longer at all. “Love,” he tilted his head back. “Y’need to—”
“Shh,” she pulled back, pressing the most chaste of kisses along his length which was an oxymoron. “Just worry about you,” she hummed. “Please?”
Harry groaned his hands gathering her hair at the back of her head as she slipped her mouth down as much of him as she could take and it felt so good it made him
“Aw fuck, kitten, s’good,” he groaned and held her in place as he released in her mouth. His breath was ragged, his hips stuttering slightly. She continued sucking even though it was sensitive. Even though it was more than he deserved.
“Do you really think I would stop loving you because you didn’t have money?” She asked, fluttering her lashes. Voice the slightest bit hoarser.
He lifted her from her knees, putting her on the counter again and shoved her dress up to her hips. Thank God she wore a dress. “This underwear is ripped,” he grumbled.
She frowned. “It is? It’s my favorite I didn’t notice a rip when I put them on this mor—”
But she didn’t realize he was predicting the future. He pulled on the nylon cotton blend with so much force her already hoarse voice died in her throat. He groaned, tossing them on the floor. He lined himself up with her entrance and brought her bum to the edge so the sharp corner dug into her flesh. It would leave a bruise and the only thought that was left in her head was that Harry would kiss it and make it better later.
His length slid inside her so effortlessly. She should have been embarrassed how turned on she was sucking him off—especially when Niall got to the office but she couldn’t help it. Now the length that had felt so good in her throat was making her core ache. He thrusted into her quickly. Hardly letting her breathe or realize what was happening, but it felt so good. She was moaning into the curve of shoulder. Clinging to him. “Baby, I—”
“S’good kitten. S’good. I love you so fucking much,” his hips were relentless. All thought escaping her mind. A fire could have broken out in the shower and she wouldn’t have moved—couldn’t have moved.
“Oh wow,” she sighed as Harry pulled her closer to him—her legs wound around his waist. Her butt barely on the counter. Her eyes fluttered with each thrust. “Oh, oh my God,” she moaned. “You’re—”
“Gonna come on m’cock, kitten,” it was a question. Or a command. She didn’t know. It was both. Neither. Part of her wondered if he even said anything.
But she did. She did come on his cock. Hard. She fluttered around him for what felt like minutes. Hours. Centuries. Color ceased to have meaning. There was no sound. That was heaven. She was sure. A blasphemous thought that she didn’t even have the strength to laugh about because she was deliriously good.
Her voice was hoarser than only moments before. Her face tucked into his shoulder and her breath shaky as he pushed her further back toward the mirror at the end of the counter behind the sink. Further from him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she could only imagine what he had done to her hair. But his pupils were massive. His lips pinker than ever. His chest heaved.
Clearing her throat, she gently tucked him back into his pants. Then tucked in his shirt too. With the same delicateness as she did with his cock. It was intoxicating. Made him want to go another thousand rounds with her. “So, in conclusion,” she whispered. “I will love you whether you have a kajillion dollars or one dollar,” she looked up at him, cheeks burning.
“That was very sexy, kitten,” his eyelids practically fluttered.
“I...” she cleared her throat. “I surprised myself, actually.”
“We should do this more often,” he pulled her skirt down and brought her closer to the edge of the counter again. She hissed at the contact against the bruise that was definitely forming. He frowned. “Oh, love m’sorry,” he cupped her face and gazed at her. “Was I too rough? I shouldn’t have—”
“Harry, if I didn’t fear for the stability of my leg muscles I would probably bend over your desk for you.” He swore under his breath. “You did bruise my butt though.”
“No good deed,” he mumbled and lifted her gently from the counter. His hand cupping her backside and gently rubbing each cheek as if it were normal. But it felt normal.
She nuzzled into his chest and sighed contentedly. “Niall’s going to see right through me,” she murmured.
“I’ll fire him again if he makes y’uncomfortable.”
She snorted and laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. “You are my favorite person Harry Styles. I love you so much. Even if you ruined my favorite pair of underwear.”
He smiled as mischievously as she had earlier in the day. “I’ll buy you more...a hundred pairs of them. Then I’ll ruin them all again,” he promised, then pressed his mouth firmly against hers. A gentle, soft kiss in comparison to all they did in the span of half an hour. “I love you too.”
She grinned. “Say it again.”
He shook his head at her, kissed her forehead, effectively turning her to mush, which was probably his plan so she couldn’t deny his next request. “Stop calling our coffee break a meeting.”
But her senses were returning. The ones that weren’t primal and horny about how massive Harry’s dick was in her mouth. She was going to say something funny; he could see it in the glint in her eye. “Well, I can’t put ‘sex’ on your calendar now can I?”
--
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hmmm maybe dadrry where he pretends to make her jealous but it doesn’t work bc they’re so secure in the relationship they just smirk and tease them, or that yn gets mama bear when she sees other moms hit on harry at school or daycare
——
In a couple of weeks, the preschool your eldest daughter attended was going on a field trip to a petting zoo in Montebello, California. Chaperone sign-up sheets were recently emailed to every parent, and you were debating with Harry about who should be the one to tag along. It wasn't a requirement to be a chaperone, but your worrisome maternal instincts sure made it one.
Harry was lying on the couch, his socked feet dangling over the armrest. You sat normally, your legs bent over his straightened knees, as you stared into space. The conversation kept hitting dead ends, but you were insistent on coming up with a solution as soon as possible. You had enough on your plate to deal with in the weeks ahead.
"Only one of us can chaperone the field trip," you repeated for probably the fourth time that night.
"I'm more than willing to take off work for it," Harry replied, his fingers casually laced over his chest. His eyes were closed since it was nearing ten p.m. and you hadn't been able to make up your mind about which parent should volunteer their time and energy toward the field trip. You had cornered Harry when he went to shut the living room lights off and forced him to sit down before he retreated to bed. It wasn't that you didn't trust him to be a chaperone—he'd definitely handle the controlled chaos that came with supervising a group of kids in an environment full of animals to gawk at. You just considered yourself a more watchful person, but really, it was an excuse to witness your daughter's interactions with her classmates and make sure she was adjusting well to being in school.
"I'm more than willing to as well. So..." You tapped your fingers against the couch cushion. "We need to make a decision right now. Signups are first come, first served."
Harry hummed in acknowledgment. "I can go."
You slowly nodded and said, "Okay. Well, so can I. You know, if you're not able to take off work."
He snorted a laugh and shifted his head, getting more comfortable. He was going to get a crick in his neck if this conversation didn't hurry along.
"What?" you asked, unsure why your reasonability was so amusing to him.
"You're funny."
You tilted your head back against the couch and sighed toward the ceiling. "Harry, I'm trying to get us ahead of the game. Otherwise, neither of us will be able to chaperone, and then our child will be in the care of a random parent."
Your trust in the preschool was substantial, yet a part of you was still cautious about the parents. You hadn't had the chance to build relationships with them since you started working part-time again. Your little girl was a wanderer, and if something caught her attention, she was off and admiring it without notice. Other parents didn't know that about her. What if they didn't pay close enough attention and accidentally let her get lost? The mere thought was why you were determined to claim an open spot as a chaperone.
"You're not making this particularly easy, honey," Harry said lightheartedly, tiredness rasping his voice. "I am actively telling you that I would love to be a chaperone instead of a chef for a day. Petting adorable animals is also a plus."
"Maybe we can write both of our names down," you replied, deep in thought. Half of what Harry said ricocheted off your brain.
"I don't think that's allowed." He yawned, stretching his arms. "Just put my name down. If work ends up being a problem, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you taking my place."
You contemplated his decision, then asked, "Did you read the chaperone responsibilities list?"
He frowned. "No, but there's time. The email was only sent this morning."
"You have to read it," you said firmly. He needed to be as prepared as possible. This was the first field trip of many. Rules have most likely changed since you were a kid.
In a lull of silence, Harry's hand caressed your ankle. "What are you so anxious about? Talk to me."
You wanted to say everything, but not even someone as wise as Harry could procure a remedy for that. "Nothing," you mumbled. "Just trying to have a solid plan in place."
"Are you worried the moms will be all over me? Pulling me aside and asking me"—Harry paused for dramatic effect—"burning questions?"
You looked over at him, taking in his sly little smirk. He was being like this on purpose. Not to make you jealous, since you were years past that phase—instead, it was a way to distract you from ruminating over minuscule matters.
"I’m not worried at all," you said confidently, flashing him a grin. "Because you know what to do if that happens, right?"
Harry wordlessly lifted his left hand, showing off his gold wedding band snugly fit on his long ring finger. Exactly, you thought to yourself.
"And what if they persist?" he asked, enjoyment clear on his face. You knew he loved this type of banter.
"You show them the picture of me that you keep in your wallet." You leaned toward him. "Then your last resort is calling me and putting whichever mom is flirting with you on the phone."
His teeth bit into his soft bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am."
You crooked your pointer finger, beckoning Harry closer. He sat up with a groan, his face now mere inches from yours. The hypothetical scenario caused misplaced jealousy to surge through your bloodstream, and you had to remind him of some things.
"You're my husband."
Harry traced the tip of his nose along your cheekbone and said, "Loud and proud, baby."
Your breaths were shallowed. "Father of our two children."
"And counting."
You pinched his waist, and he writhed with a heavenly laugh. "You're conventionally attractive, which piques a lot of people's interests. And while it used to bother me in the past, I know that your soul is tethered to mine."
His hands traveled an intimate path up your thighs. "It always has been," he said, his eyes sincere.
"So," you said with finality, your heart racing from his words, "I will let you chaperone the field trip. Because you always come back to me and our family. And I know work has been keeping you away from our girls."
"How do you turn the most mundane thing into a romantic declaration?"
"With you as my muse, it's pretty simple."
Harry moved closer and brushed his lips against yours. "If you keep melting my heart, I'm going to lay you down on this couch and make love to you until the sun rises."
"Risky," you whispered, smiling against his mouth. The kids were asleep down the hall. Any lovemaking would no doubt be interrupted by the baby monitor.
"Tell you what," he said, stealing a hot, deep kiss from you that left you briefly stunned. "This weekend, I'll have my mom take the girls for a day so you and I can love on each other without any distractions. I miss having you all to myself."
"I'm right here," you said, cupping his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you kissed me some more."
"I thought you needed to sign me up as a chaperone."
You kissed him three times in quick succession before saying, "Shut up and make out with me."
"Roger that," Harry murmured, towering over you until your back sank into the couch.
——
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Nemesis with Benefits* - Part 3
Summary: “You go to your friend’s birthday party, and run into Harry. Naturally, the encounter doesn’t go very smoothly, and you are at each other’s throats in a matter of minutes. But the proximity transforms the anger into… some type of frustration.”
Wc: 4.7k
Tropes: enemies to lovers
Warnings: cursing, smut, dirty talk, (heavy on the)degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics
A/N: Hey y’all, I’m back with another NWB chapter! This took embarrassingly long to write. To be honest, I was in a bit of a rut, and then I was having too many ideas and thoughts at once, and not enough inner peace to sit down and write. But it’s all good now, I’m back, so enjoy!!!
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"Isn't it too much?" You ask hesitantly, staring at your dolled up reflection in the mirror of your vanity desk. Rebecca's head shoots your way, a deep frown on her face.
"Hell no! You look absolutely gorgeous, sweetie." She hurries over to you, putting her hands on your shoulder and crouching down to your level. She looks at you through the mirror, giving you a comforting smile, which eases your nerves a little bit.
"Listen, babe, this is your first real party since that troll cheated on you. It's your chance to show everyone that you are strong, and better than ever." Rebecca gives the pep-talk that you have been hearing seven renditions of for the past week. She turns you around so she can look you in the eyes. "Dylan was a deadweight. You are free of that imbecile and we're going to celebrate it by getting you laid."
You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh at Rebecca's mention of her mission for you. "I don't want to get laid."
"Girl... trust me, you need to get laid." Rebecca says as she picks up her purse from your bed. Your mouth falls open at the insult.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" A chuckle escapes your lips as you ask your friend the question. She turns around, a mischievous grin covering her face.
"You have been so incredibly tense the last weeks, especially today. Seriously, did you have a deadline today or something? You have been incredibly tense all afternoon." Rebecca questions, grabbing both of your jackets and handing yours to you.
Your eyes widen for a slight second, but you quickly regain yourself. You shrug your shoulders, which, now that she mentioned it, are feeling quite tense. You hadn't realized how much effect your stress had on your body today.
Ever since that almost... whatever it was with Harry earlier today, you have absolutely been on edge. It's been difficult to brush it off, especially because the harder you try to not think of it, the longer it stays on your mind. Even blasting rock music didn't get your thoughts off him.
There are just a lot of questions that accompany the events that almost occurred earlier today. Besides the typical, 'why did he even initiate such a movement?', there is also the question of 'why did you almost go along with it?'.
Maybe Rebecca is right. Maybe, you do need to get laid. You are not going to say that out loud to your friend, though, because you know you will never hear the end of it. So instead, you lie.
"Yeah, had a deadline today. But I promise, I'm ready to party." You say. Technically, it a half-lie. You did have a deadline for an assignment today, but it was only a matter of getting your reference list right.
"Alright, let's go then!" Rebecca exclaims enthusiastically, walking out of your bedroom and towards the front door of your apartment.
The frat house where Tyler's party is held is quite close to your apartment. You live extremely close to campus, and so you and Rebecca don't have to suffer through the cold breeze that dominates the night. You are glad, because your short, red dress and sheer tights aren't the warmest thing you've ever worn. You thank your lucky stars for the black knee high boots you paired the outfit with, as they manage to block the wind against your legs a little bit.
The change of temperature going from outside to inside the frat house is lethal. It smells of the standard odors that cover a party: sweat and alcohol.
You don't hear much of what Rebecca shouts at you over the loud music, but her pointing at Tyler tells you all you need to know. She grabs your hand and guides the both of you to your mutual friend.
Tyler grins like an idiot at the sight of you two, spreading his arms out before pulling the two of you into a bear hug.
"I'm so glad you guys came!" He exclaims, letting you pull away.
"We even got you a present." Rebecca says, and Tyler quirks up his brow.
"We think you're going to love it." You add.
Tyler's head flicks from Rebecca to you, and a sneaky smirk creeps up his face. In perfect timing, both you and Rebecca slap Tyler's arm before throwing some profanities his way.
"What?! You said it so suggestively." Tyler laughs, and you flick him on his forehead. He yelps out, and Rebecca and you chuckle at his dramatics.
"You are an idiot." Rebecca smiles sweetly at him, planting a kiss on his cheek anyway. She steps back and grabs your hand, nodding towards the kitchen. "Wanna get a drink?"
"Oh wait, come with me. I locked the good stuff upstairs." Tyler interrupts, and motions for you to walk with him. You look at Rebecca, and shrug before happily following him upstairs to his room.
You have been in Tyler's room plenty of times, one of which you almost ended up having sex with him. It was late and you were both high as fuck, and ended up falling asleep before anything really happened. You laughed about it afterwards, and besides flirty jokes, there is absolutely nothing between you and Tyler.
"Here we are..." Tyler turns around with three bottles of hard liquor in his hands. You and Rebecca cheer as Tyler pours some tequila into each red solo cup. The three of you make a toast to Tyler before downing the ridiculously large shot. You pull a sour face afterwards because you always seem to forget how nasty tequila is. It does the job of getting you drunk, though, so you don't dwell on it too long.
Tyler then makes you and Rebecca a rum and coke. You chat a bit about everything and nothing, but then Rebecca announces she has to pee, and leaves the room. You quite literally feel the air in the room changing as soon as the door is closed again. Tyler looks at you with sad eyes.
"So, how are you holding up?" He tries to be casual, but you roll your eyes because you know what he is aiming at.
"Stop it, I'm fine. He is a dick, and I am just fine." You say, sitting your self onto the bed. Tyler seats himself besides you.
"You can't blame me for asking, I feel like we haven't talked much since... you know. Just wanted to know if you're okay." He shrugs, and your heart melts ever so slightly. Tyler is a great friend, and he was right: you really hadn't spoke to anyone but Benjamin and Rebecca since the break-up.
And Harry.
"I promise, I'm fine." You say, but Tyler just squints at you. It makes you giggle a bit, getting nervous about idiocy. A short silence falls between the two of you, and you take a sip of your rum and coke.
"Rebecca said I should get laid." You confess, before taking a large gulp of your drink. You look at your friend, expectantly, wondering what his opinion on all this is.
"I mean, my door is always open—"
"Shut up!" You cackle, and Tyler laughs. He loves getting on your nerves. "But seriously, do you think that's a good idea?"
He shrugs. "If you're ready, then sure."
"Well, how do I know if I'm ready?" You ask him, your head tilted ever so slightly.
"You'll know." Tyler answer cryptically, getting up from the bed. You follow suit, knitting your brows at his vague words.
"That might just be the least helpful advice I've ever heard." You deadpan, and Tyler rolls his eyes at you.
"You're thinking about this too much. Just try and see if there is someone you feel attracted to, and just try it. If it's a simple hook-up, it's all about the physical attraction, nothing more. So don't overthink it."
You sigh, kind of bummed with the fact that his advice is actually really good and makes a lot of sense, because now you'll have to apply it.
"Now, let's go downstairs, because Rebecca is probably looking for us." Tyler suggests, and you nod. The two of you fill up your drinks before walking out of Tyler's bedroom. You're still laughing at a joke of his when you are met with none other than Harry standing in the hallway.
He looks surprised to see you, and the same can definitely be said for you. There is about a two second delay in his mood change from surprised to irritated, and the tension in your stomach stings.
"Hey bro." Tyler says, a bit unsure at how enthusiastic he can be towards Harry in front of you. You know they're actually good mates, but I think that lessened a bit since the break-up. Tyler is awfully loyal to you, in the littlest ways.
"Hey man, happy birthday." Harry greets Tyler and they do their little bro hug. You watch the interaction, a bit unsure of how to act in front of Harry now. Pulling out from the embrace, Harry turns to you. He greets you with the sole mutter of your last name.
"Styles." You say back.
You feel Tyler looking between the two of you, and you can tell that he is scared that you'll push Harry down the stairs at any given moment. You refuse to lose eye contact with Harry, however, and he seems to have the same idea. It takes about ten seconds of silently staring into each others' souls before Tyler speaks up.
"Y/N, shall we go downstairs? Find Rebecca?" He puts his hand on the small of your back. You silently cheer for yourself when Harry breaks the eye contact, his gaze shooting down to Tyler's arm, before looking at you again.
"Excellent idea." You agree, turning around and walking down the stairs without looking back at Harry. Your stomach is still upset and your mind is spinning; that was oddly stressful for no reason.
Once you've found Rebecca again, you both take to the dance floor. A typical party song plays and everyone starts to cheer and jump along. You and Rebecca dance with each other, laughing because of the alcohol and the guys who are dancing around you.
You try to scan the room for potential bachelors as much as possible, hoping there is someone who you find attractive. Unfortunately, you are a bit out of luck. You casually look further, but then your eyes fall onto Harry. He is standing against the wall, with a couple of other guys you know, but he is looking at you. You feel like you got caught, even though, technically you caught him looking at you. You don't have much to overthink it, however, because you quickly realize that Benjamin is one of the guys standing with Harry.
You pull Rebecca along and walk towards the guys. Benjamin shrieks when he sees you and pulls you into a hug that nearly chokes the life out of you. After pulling away, he goes and greets Rebecca. Your eyes float past Harry, who is so close to you that you can smell his perfume, but you quickly look away when you realize that, once again, his eyes were already on you.
Your chest feels tight at the knowledge that he is actively watching you, and you have to stop yourself from clenching your jaw out of the sheer stress it is giving you. Benjamin distracts you by asking if you want to go outside for a bit, and you nod, following him to the back yard.
But when you see Harry joins you, you make up an excuse that you have to go to the bathroom, and that they should just go ahead and you'll find them in a bit. The group agrees and begins walking outside, and you take it as your cue to hurry upstairs.
You enter Tyler's room, running over to his desk, where the liquor is still standing, and pour yourself another rum and coke. It is mostly rum with a splash of coke, but you really need it right now. You take a big gulp, sticking your tongue out as the bitter taste trickles down your throat.
"Hiding?"
You jump at the sudden voice sounding from behind you, and turn around to see Harry leaning against the doorframe. You take a deep breath when you realize it's just home, but then the tension settles in because it's him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" You ask, irritated. It is mostly to mask the nerves he gives you, and Harry doesn't seem to buy into your pretending. He shrugs.
"Was trying to find a lighter. Tyler said he had one up here." He answers, looking around the room. His eyebrows raise when he sees one on Tyler's nightstand. He leans forward, holding it up in the air so you can see it, then puts it in his pocket. "What about you?"
Getting away from you, you think.
Instead of saying that, you shrug your shoulders. "Just— getting a drink."
Harry nods slowly, not entirely believing you. You stare at each other for a moment, and the heavy feeling in your stomach is beginning to shout to get out. You swallow, your risen heartbeat telling you what you are trying very, very hard to ignore.
"So..." Harry starts.
"So..."
"You and Tyler, huh?"
Your eyes widen at the words that leave Harry's mouth, and before you know it, a loud snort escapes you. You slap your hand over your mouth, shaking your head profusely.
"C'mon, you don't have to deny it. So, the moving on going easier than you thought after all, hmm?"
There is a slight condescending tone that hides between Harry's words, and it makes your smile fade away. You set down your cup at the table and stride towards him until you are right in front of him. You look up and meet his gaze.
"What? Are you trying to say that it's easier, because I wasn't that in love with Dylan, so in the end it wasn't all bad? That the drama was for nothing?" You growl, blood rising to your cheeks as you speak.
"I didn't even fucking say that—"
"No, but you thought it. If you're being a dick, just be upfront about it. Don't act all sneaky about it." You say, and Harry clenches his jaw at your remark.
"Okay, you need to get off that fucking high horse of yours. Not every fucking thing I say is a hidden insult to you, because the world doesn't fucking revolve around you." He barks at you, getting closer. His height is intimidating, but you keep standing your ground and look up at him.
"Can't blame me for thinking it. It’s not like you’ve got anything else going on your life." Your tipsy mind decides to go in for the kill and just start shooting straight insults at him. Harry laughs coldly.
"Yeah? You think that all I do is think about you?" He takes another step closer, your bodies now partly touching. You don't move an inch, mainly because you don't want to let him win, but also because you just don't want to. "You think I wake up and go to bed wondering where you are, what you're doing, who you're with?"
You don't say anything. Your nails dig into the palm of your hands as you clench your fists together. There is too much frustration in your body and too few ways to express it. Tyler's words hang in the back of your head, and they are getting harder and harder to push away. Harry leans forward, so he is on eye to eye level with you. His pupils are dilated and he looks just as irritated as you, if not more.
"Listen, darling. I meant what I said. You don't mean shit to me." Harry says slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.
You are not sure what brain cell lead you to make the decision, but in a matter of seconds, your lips are on his. There seems to be no surprise on Harry's side, because he leans into it immediately.
His tongue slips into your mouth without hesitation, and with a hand on your throat, he pushes you against the wall. All thoughts leave your mind as you kiss Harry, and 'not overthinking it' suddenly seems like the easiest thing in the world.
A sound leaves your mouth when Harry's grip on your throat tightens, and you find yourself arching into him. One of your hands is holding onto his shirt, and the other one to his hair, as you kiss the guy you hate most in the bedroom of your friend.
You feel the adamant bulge in Harry's jeans as the two of you grind against each other, in a desperate, pathetic need for relief. There should be at least a thousand different alarm bells going off in your brain, but there aren't. Not ones that give you enough strength to step out of this situation, anyway.
Your hand finds itself around Harry's throat as well, slightly catching him off guard. You take it as the perfect moment to push him onto Tyler's bed. By the time he's fallen back, you're already climbing on top of him, your hips moving against his crotch as your tongue re-enters his mouth.
It doesn't last long, though, because Harry has flipped the two of you around in no time. His hand back on your throat, and the other one's restraining both your arms above your head.
"Aw, you thought you were taking the reins? That's cute." Harry smiles patronizingly, tilting his head a bit as he scans your face. You clench your jaw, beyond irritated by the fact that he thinks he can just restrain you like this.
"Actually—"
"I don't think I told you that you could speak, now did I?" He interrupts you, his eyes raking up and down your body.
"I fucking hate you." You spit out the words, truly disgusted with yourself for being so incredibly turned on right now. You'd remind yourself to see a psychologist or something, this was not okay. Harry let out a bitter laugh at your remark, the hand on his throat squeezing tighter as he leaned forward. It made your head spin and your panties soaking wet.
"You think I don't loathe you? Because I do. But for some reason, I can't get the image of my cock ruining your pussy out of my head." He growls, equally bothered by the tension as you had been since earlier today. "So I suggest, I fuck you right here, right now. Get it out of my system."
Those words shouldn't have made you crave for him the way you are at this very moment, but for some twisted reason it does, so you nod.
"Words, honey."
"You can fuck me," You say, looking him in the eyes. "but I still hate your guts."
"Right back at ya, sweetheart. Now, take off your panties, gotta be quick."
With that said, Harry's hand leaves your throat, and he got up from the bed. You do as he said as he closes and locks the bedroom door. You are bare and ready for him by the time he turns around, and the smirk on his face makes you realize how much he is relishing in the idea of it.
"No foreplay, let's get this over with." You say, glaring at his smug face. Harry looks down at your sopping wet cunt, cocking an eyebrow at you.
"Not that you'd need it. Sole sight of me got you so soaked, huh?" He taunts, crawling up on the bed and climbing over you. He leans back a bit, grinning as you unbuckle his pants and mutter profanities aimed at him under your breath.
When you pull down his briefs, you have to actively stop yourself from widening your eyes. That is going to hurt. It is a prospect you are looking forward to a little too much.
You lean back, watching Harry stroke himself as he observes your wet hole. As if reading his mind, you tell him: "I'm clean, and on birth control."
"Y'telling me you want it bare?" He asks, and you shrug your shoulders. Harry shakes his head, chuckling at your nonchalance. Then, without a word of warning, he pushes himself into you.
"Dirty fucking girl... just wants to feel it all." He says, pulling about almost all the way before thrusting into you again. You shriek from the heavy mix of pain and pleasure it causes you, so much so that Harry has to cover your mouth with his hand.
"You need to keep quiet if you wanna come." He growls, trying to sound irritated, but you can tell he is enjoying himself too much to really feign annoyance. You watch as he finds a rhythm that drives the both of you crazy, closing his eyes as he takes in the great feeling of it all. Your hands find your clit and automatically begin to rub in circles as you listen to the small sounds of pleasure that leave Harry's mouth while he drives himself into you over and over again.
Opening his eyes, he arrogantly smirks at the sight of you getting worked up because of him. He leans forward, his free hand finding your breasts and groping them harshly. A stifled moan leaves your mouth at the feel of his sensitive yet hard touch.
"Look at you, hmm?" He taunts. "One minute you tell me you hate me, and the next you're begging me to fill you up with my bare cock."
Since you can't respond to his teasing, you decide to do the next best thing, bite on his fingers. Harry's hand shoots away from you, looking shocked for the entirety of one second before he's back on track. Then, he laughs.
"Oh, you are a fucking brat..." His hoarse voice mumbles, pulling his cock out of you.
In a flash of a moment, you are turned around onto your belly. Harry scoots your hips up, lining himself up with you again. You use your arms to try and get on all fours, steadying yourself, but you fall face first back onto the mattress as Harry grabs your arms and puts them behind your back. He holds them restrained, his other hand on your hip as he pushes himself back into you.
A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Harry practically screws you into the mattress. His pace is immediately fast, leaving no time for you to take a breath or even think about what he is doing. Your mind gets a bit fuzzy, and you aren't sure whether it is the sex or the alcohol, but either way you are in a different universe right now.
"Biting my finger, thinking you can catch me off guard with the pain. Well, guess what, I like the pain." He says, and you yell when his hand forcefully connects with your ass cheek. You still feel the sting of it when he slaps on your other cheek too, you whimper at the pain, ashamed to admit how much closer it has brought you to your orgasm already. "And so do you, apparently."
"Fuck— I'm..." you try to tell him, but it is hard with your face duh into the sheets and your brain all fucked out from his dick hammering into you.
"I know, I can feel you clenching around me." Harry assures you, then fucks into you harder. The sound of skin slapping against each other takes over the room, accompanied by your increasingly loud moans.
"You are so fucking predictable, falling apart around my cock. Knew you wanted it." Harry holds your hips steady with his hands, and your arch your back for him to hit a special spot.
"Just— this. once." You clarify, hoping Harry has caught your words.
"Hmm, we'll see about that. But fine, just this once, come for me then. Put me away wet." You can hear the grin in his voice, and it is precisely what makes you fall apart around him. With a string of curses and repeats of his name, the euphoric release washes over you.
Harry's grip on your wrists tightens, his fingernails digging into your skin. Slowly but surely, his thrusts become sloppier, and soon enough you hear a groan. His hips still as he comes inside you, filling you up with his seed.
You clench around his cock a few times more as he comes, the idea of his sperm inside you making you hornier than it should. It doesn't go unnoticed by Harry, as he curses under his breath at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock.
After managing to catch your breath, Harry carefully pulls himself out of you. A whimper escapes you, not satisfied with the fact that you now feel empty.
"Don't pout, I filled you up just nice." He says as he turns you around so you are laying on your back. Your eyes meet his, and the reality of what you have done begins to sink in.
Oh my god, you just had sex with Harry.
Your hands fly over your face, shaking your head as you let out a shameful groan. You move your hands down a bit, so it covers everything but your forehead and eyes, and you observe Harry leaning down to grab your panties. You reach your hand out to take them from Harry, but he looks you dead in the eyes and stuffs them into his pocket.
"What are you doing?" You ask in a warning tone. He shrugs, waltzing towards the bedroom door and unlocking it. "Give me back my panties!"
"No, that's okay." Harry denies your request in the most casual way, turning around to look at you. "I'll hold onto them, for safekeeping."
"Harry!" You exclaim in frustration as he walks out the door. You quickly get off the bed, and follow him. He turns around, hand still in his pocket.
"Yeah, that definitely sounded less annoying when you were coming around my—" You intercept his stupid ass before he has the chance to finish his sentence, slapping your hand over his mouth. The sudden proximity makes your stomach tense up, but you keep a stoic face.
"I fucking despise you." You say lowly, glaring him down. You feel him grinning against your hand, but you ignore it as you let him go and walk towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway. When Harry calls out your name, your body automatically stills. When you turn to look at him, that exact devilish grin coats his face just right.
"What?" You ask, a slight furrow between your brows as you stare at him.
"You smudged your mascara a bit." He gestures towards his face, referencing to your own under eyes. You say nothing, merely flipping him off as you enter the bathroom. Upon taking a look in the mirror, your eyes widen.
Your mascara is indeed smudged, and not a little bit. There are lines of multiple mascara filled tears that streamed down the side of your face. The weird thing is, you don't even remember tearing up. But it is there, right in front of you, the proof of what you did. The mascara around your eyes, his cum dripping from your cunt.
You sit down on the toilet, taking a deep sigh. You cover your face with your hands once again, this time letting out a frustrated shriek. And you realize that—out of all of this—the worst thing is maybe not the fact that you had sex with Harry and that the proof of it is on and in your body. No, the icing on the cake is that Harry himself has the other proof in his fucking pocket right now.
Shit.
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You’re too sweet for me H.S (pt.2)
Harry’s occasional hum or nod was what prompted her to continue speaking, and well, this was a good enough excuse for him to freely oogle her.
Watch how her mouth curved around each letter, how she bobbed her bare knee up and down, pressed her legs together, how her dress slipped higher every time she sat up, revealing the plush skin of her thighs. He didn’t mind a good eye-fuck from time-to-time, and Y/N was ever so oblivious to the thoughts swimming in his mind. He kept his fingers wrapped around his glass though. Didn’t touch her like she maybe hoped he did.
Because a sweet girl like Y/N would completely wither if Harry had his way with her.
Or,
Part two of the one where Y/N is a delectable little thing and Harry’s got a craving for something sweet.
Word count: 4K+
Content warning: mentions of blood and violence.
Harry’s ear might as well fall off.
Y/N was a chatty thing when she had a few drinks in her, coupled with the fact that Harry was listening to every word spilling from her cherry lips, trying to keep up with the mostly one-sided conversation she seemed to be having with herself. It appeared the motive with which she approached him was sort of… lost.
Her original plans of wooing Harry and luring him to her with her short, pink minidress forgotten as she went on and on about a failed business venture of a close friend of hers, fingers toying with the chipped wood of the bar. Harry’s occasional hum or nod was what prompted her to continue speaking, and well, this was a good enough excuse for him to freely oogle her.
Watch how her mouth curved around each letter, how she bobbed her bare knee up and down, pressed her legs together, how her dress slipped higher every time she sat up, revealing the plush skin of her thighs. He didn’t mind a good eye-fuck from time-to-time, and Y/N was ever so oblivious to the thoughts swimming in his mind. He kept his fingers wrapped around his glass though. Didn’t touch her like she maybe hoped he did.
Because a sweet girl like Y/N would completely wither if Harry had his way with her.
When she paused to sip on her drink, the pair was rudely interrupted by a hyena-like yelp; a grimy, rough palm slapping down on Y/N’s bare thigh. She jumped a bit, her drink dropped back on the table when the hand revealed a shorter, balding man, who bathed in the stench of sweat and cheap alcohol. “Sorry honey dropped my wallet,” he slurred, patting her thigh as he got back up from where bent down to the floor. He raked his eyes over Y/N’s figure, eyes not even trying to hide the way they were practically looking down her slinky dress and getting a peek at her chest.
It was safe to say that Y/N was horrified.
His hand on her was the last thing she wanted and she nearly socked him in the face when instead of walking away like a normal person, the man slipped her a crooked, yellow-toothed smile and let his hand travel further up her leg. Before she could though, another warmer hand batted him away, rather roughly as the drunken man stumbled backwards, eyebrows furrowed and nose snarled like he was about to burst.
But he didn’t; when he chanced a glance at Harry and his broad shoulders, he straightened his posture. “Fuck off,” Harry said dryly, not bothering to spare the man another look and instead finishing the last of his neat whiskey.
The man huffed and straightened his jacket, making eye contact with Y/N. He scoffed, “whatever. You weren’t that hot anyway.”
Y/N couldn’t care less.
Not when Harry merely narrowed his eyes at the man, which was somehow more than enough to send him scrambling back to the corner of the bar and cower away from the taller, green-eyed stranger.
“Sorry, um, I don’t know him,” Y/N started, feeling the need to apologise (honestly, when did she not?), “—Um. Sorry.” She exhaled.
Her apology left Harry pretty confused. His eyebrows were slightly raised, looking at Y/N like she had grown a second head.
Why the fuck was she apologising?
When he didn’t say anything, she took it as her que to continue, “I don’t, uh, I don’t usually do this— like, come out to bars and stuff so when people try to make a move it’s hard for me to react. Sor—”
“S’fine.”
”—ry.”
A beat passed.
She nodded. “Okay.”
Harry glanced at the clock behind her.
12:47AM.
He fished into his wallet and slapped two hundred dollar bills on the bar. Y/N’s eyes widened. “Go back to your friends,” he stood up from his seat, “it’s getting late.”
He was leaving.
As he turned around towards the door, Y/N quickly grabbed his wrist, “wait!” Harry looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in dubiety, “you can’t leave yet.”
He glanced down at where she gripped his skin tightly, except she didn’t shy away from his curious gaze— only opened up her palm so the tips of her fingers grazed the soft skin inside his hand, tracing circles. “I wanted to see if you would… if we could,” she tried to find the right words, but it was like he walked right into her head and took her ability to form coherent sentences when he looked at her like that, and smelled like that.
“Could what?”
She shook her head as if his voice snapped her out of a trance, shuffling closer so the toe of her heels kissed his, “listen, I think you’re cute—”
Oh.
“—and I came up to you because I wanted to… take you, uh, home. With me.”
Harry wasn’t expecting that.
Finally the motive with which she approached him graced her again and she looked up at him with hopeful eyes, the middle of her lip falling victim to the anxious gnawing of her teeth. Harry’s mouth quirked just barely. “You’re drunk, Y/N. Go home.”
“I’m drunk cause I can’t do this sober. I don’t do this, ever, but I saw you and— y’know.”
Her eagerness was just delicious. He wanted to swallow her whole; take her to his motorbike around the back and bend her over the seat. Slip her dress up and fuck her over the buzzing vehicle. Let its vibrations roll over her clit while he fisted her locks and cupped the back of her neck to force her to meet his eyes while he took her just like he wanted. Maybe that would finally shut her up.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he bottled up his thoughts and saved them for another rainy day. He stared at her for a beat longer.
“Go back to your friends,” he parroted, looking over her shoulder. Her eyebrows dropped in confusion, “but I—”
“I’ll see you around,” he cut her off. He felt her hand slipping from his, now an irresistible pout pushing out her bottom lip when the horror of his rejection dawned upon her and watched him walk away and out of the bar into the misty night.
Fuck, if that wasn’t the hardest thing he had to do.
No fight he’d ever won or job he finished felt as tough as a feat as that did, and he felt slightly stupid for letting her down like that as the cold dark cleared his head. A sweet thing offering herself to him on a silver platter. He should have taken the first opportunity he had to indulge her. But he didn’t.
She was untainted and saccharine, a petal he thought so delicate and rosey, and him a flicker of a worn-out lighter, turning into ash every creation of flora he dared to touch.
He’d be too much for her and he knew it.
-
Being rejected by someone sucked.
Y/N made the walk of shame to her friends with her shoulders slumped and feeling incredibly insecure. Suddenly, she didn’t feel cute in her dress and the makeup on her face started feeling heavy.
She felt like such a dumbass.
Of course Harry didn’t want to sleep with her; she was obviously not his type. She didn’t know what finally did it for him— the endless nervous chatter spilling from her mouth like an unattended faucet or the icky remark made by the man who tried to feel her up. God, she wanted to crawl into a hole and wither. It was all she thought about when her friends gassed her up, told her she was out of his league anyway and Harry wasn’t even that hot. Even Y/N, as naive as she is, could tell they were lying about that from a mile away.
He was much cuter than any guy she had ever been with. It was only the courage her drink lended her that made her think she could pull someone like him.
But of course she couldn’t live like this— she had to get over it.
And she did, when her friends pulled her to the dance floor and pressed her close, ran their hands along her curves and told her in her ear how hot she was. Y/N realised yeah, she was fucking hot.
So what if Harry didn’t want to sleep with her?
She could totally get over it; this didn’t have to be made into such a big deal.
At least that’s what she thought until Harry walked in a week later to the 24 hour ice cream shop she worked at at 2am, clad in the same leather jacket he was wearing at the bar the night he rejected her.
Her eyes widened and her first response was to flee the scene before he could see her, but luck was not on her side that cold night, and she ended up making eye contact with him the moment he walked in. The door creaked as he stepped in, flitting his eyes around the blue-lit space. It was then when he saw Y/N behind the counter in her pastel blue uniform, a cap on her head with little cow ears on it, a bell hanging off from one of them.
He didn’t wave at her or smile at her, merely glanced before walking over to the convenience side of the shop and grabbed a bottle of water.
Meanwhile Y/N was quite literally buzzing in her spot.
What does she say to him? Does she say anything to him at all? After he so blatantly rejected her, practically called her ugly and out of his league?
She pretended to look busy as she fiddled with the keys of the cash register and plucked random numbers on the handy calculator she kept by her side before Harry approached her and cleared his throat. He avoided her gaze, “just this please.”
He obviously recognised her.
Y/N wondered if he was going to address her and the night at the bar. When another second of silence passed as she took the bottle of water, she decided to address the elephant in the room. “Harry.” He looked up at the sound of his voice and only then did she notice the battered state of his face.
A cut across his plush bottom lip gashed his features, purple blooming under his eyes and marbling into shades of blue and green which spread across the smooth skin of his cheekbone.
So that’s why he didn’t meet her gaze. He looked like he had been hit like a piñata.
“Holy heck Harry, what the fuck happened to you?!” She gasped. She froze in her spot with the bottle hanging limply between her fingers and the scanner in the other hand.
He shrugged.
“S’nothing. I fell.”
“From where? The fucking roof?”
Harry’s jaw gritted and he rubbed the good side of his forehead in frustration, revealing his split knuckles. Before Y/N could stop herself, she was reaching over the counter and taking his wrist in her hand, “fucking hell, you were in a fight.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Y/N only held it in her warm palm and stepped around the counter so she was closer to him.
“I’ll take you to the hospital, come on.” She could ask Mel to cover the last hour of her shift if it meant getting Harry all fixed and not looking like he had been put through a paper shredder. When her grip loosened a tad, he pulled his hand away from her.
“I told you, I’m fine. Leave it.” Harry tried to reach into his wallet to pay for the water, but that only made matters worse when his jacket moved to reveal a deep, red stain at the bottom left of his white shirt, fuzzing at the edges like he’d left it unattended for a while too long. “Jesus Christ.” She then shoved his jacket out of the way and when Harry tried to step back, he winced and kinked his eyebrows in pain.
“I’m okay. It’s just a cut.” His lips pressed together and he reached for his water so he could leave, except Y/N snatched it before he could. “Just a cut, my ass. If you’re not going to listen to me and go to the hospital, I’m taking you to my apartment. I’ve got a good first aid kit that’ll hopefully prevent you from bleeding you’re fucking body weight out.”
Harry sighed in defeat.
She was a stubborn girl and she wasn’t going to let up, not when she went to the back and grabbed her keys, woke Mel up from her ‘10-minute nap’ and told her there’s been an emergency and she had to go home. When she walked back out, she half expected Harry to have taken the chance and left but he really must have been in severe pain, because he waited for her to lead him to her car in the dark parking lot.
“Where’s your car?” She asked.
“S’a bike. I’ll get it later.”
Of course he rode a bike. She could picture it so clearly; his forearms flexing as he gripped the handles tightly, jacket whipping in the air and curls rogue when he pulled his helmet off.
Him in a helmet.
God, she needed to keep herself in check. This was not the time to be making a move on the poor boy.
Thankfully she didn’t work too far from her place, and if she wasn’t working late at night, she would have walked to the store instead. After strapping Harry into the seat, she drove the rest of the way in silence, the soft crooning of the radio filling the scented space of her car. When they stopped at a light, she chanced a look at Harry.
“Are you okay?” The question was probably really dumb because he clearly was not okay, but Y/N felt the need to ask it when she took in the frown on his forehead and the way he rested a palm against the cut skin of his abdomen.
“Mhmm.”
He appeared tired and drowsy and Y/N hoped he wasn’t heading into unconscious territory with the amount of blood he seemed to be losing.
He was still so beautiful. Hair messy and falling over his forehead, jaw clenched and lips pretty and pink. The reflection of the green light on his side profile told her she needed to get moving, so she followed the familiar road home, teeth abusing the skin of her mouth and head trying to wrap around the unexpected turn of events the night took.
-
Y/N’s apartment was a mess when they walked in. Clothes were thrown about from when she hastily changed into her work uniform earlier in the evening and her dog Coco immediately ran to her feet when he heard the rattle of her keys behind the door. “Hi lovey,” she cooed, bending down to pet between his ears. Harry smiled softly from above.
He was itching to run his ringed fingers through the pup’s fur but one wrong move and he felt like he might pass out. Hell, just the walk to the store from the warehouse was enough to make him feel like death himself. He might not say it, but he was eternally grateful Y/N gave a shit about him and his state.
“Sorry about the mess,” she mumbled, picking up a rogue pair of shorts from the ground and setting them on the edge of the yellow couch. Harry hummed in response. He copied Y/N when she took her shoes off by the doorstep and kicked them next to hers, only the movement made him wince and hiss as a sharp jolt of pain went shooting across his abdomen. “Crap, sorry, the bathroom is just this way, follow me.”
If she was anyone else, he would have told her off for the constant apologising she was doing but he decided against it. She was already doing so much, bringing him to her home and tending to his wounds, surely she wouldn’t appreciate the man scolding her for her constant need for reassurance.
Her bathroom was quite tiny but clean, smelling faintly like vanilla and coconut body wash which was the scent that lingered in the air that night at the bar. “On the counter,” she commanded. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she shuffled around the numerous cabinets looking for the first aid kit and Harry took his time trying to lift his weight enough to have sat on the marble top.
Slowly but surely he was successful, and he parted his legs to allow her easy access when she stood up with the red kit in her hands. “Okay,” she exhaled, “I’m no nurse but I took a first aid course during my gap year and am pretty nifty with stitching if it comes to that. S’that okay with you?”
“Yes,” he said, “thank you.”
His voice was hoarse yet sincere, meeting her gaze when she stepped between the space he created for her. She sent him a soft smile. The first thing she decided to fix up was his knuckles. Taking his palm in hers, she slipped off his numerous rings— chunky and gold, weighing heavy in her hands. After setting them aside, she approached the skin with an alcohol pad, “this might sting.”
When she pressed the damp cloth to his skin, Harry clenched his jaw and gripped her waist tightly with his other hand. The contact made her very alert— she didn’t know when he extended his touch but she didn’t say anything; she figured it might be comforting for him, to have something to hold on to through the painful process.
Once his knuckles were bandaged, she moved to the cut on his lip.
She had to slightly crane her neck to see him, his eyes heavy on hers and watching her closely as she brought another alcohol pad to his mouth. This one she dabbled softly, but what caught her off guard was the quiet whimper that fell from his throat, eyebrows furrowed and his hand now near painfully digging into her ribs.
“Sorry, I know it hurts,” she pouted, rubbing some ointment onto the irritated gash and slipping her hand on top of his where it was on her waist. “Are you alright?” Y/N asked.
He exhaled a breath through his nose, “yeah. Sorry.” He took his hand away from her and the loss of contact was slightly disappointing for Y/N— she quite enjoyed his grip on her but she let it go, tending to his eyebrow the same way she was to his lip.
For the bruise on his cheekbones, she fetched a bag of peas and gave him two painkillers which ought to have soothed the pain just a tad. The last thing left was cut on his abdomen.
The pair was silent as Harry slowly took off his jacket and dropped it on the floor, his dirty white shirt following suit. When she caught sight of his skin Y/N almost gasped.
He was tanned and toned, inky grey swirls decorating his smooth skin all over his chest and arms. A moth (or was it a butterfly?) on his tummy wiggled with every breath he took, ferns peeking out from beneath his black jeans.
Right at the edge of the seam was the long gash, slicing horizontally across his abdomen with dried blood bordering it. There was no time to oogle him though, as Harry flinched when his torso stretched a little and Y/N got right back to work.
She started by cleaning the blood off with a wet towel as much as she could, the only thought in her head being how he even got in this state in the first place. No matter how much she wanted it, it wasn’t her place to ask. So, she kept her mouth shut and warned him about the alcohol she was going to apply to the wound before she did.
Harry immediately went for her waist again, thumb nestled beneath her ribs and digging in deep when she gently swiped the alcohol soaked cloth over his wound. Harry didn’t meet her face, eyes screwed shut as she nursed him to health.
When it was all clean, Y/N assessed it and came to the conclusion that it probably did not require stitches, the cut itself not too deep as she bandaged it up and stepped back to admire her work. “There you go. All fixed up.”
Harry sighed and slowly got off the counter. “Let me get you a shirt,” Y/N said. As she turned to leave the bathroom, Harry quickly grabbed her wrist and stopped her. The moment felt much like the one at the bar, except then, Y/N was the one with the hand wrapped around his wrist and pleading look in her eyes.
“Listen,” he started, “I just wanted to say thank you.” Her lips parted as she stared up at him, Harry still very much bare waist up and his fingers tickling the soft inside of her wrist. “You already said that silly. It’s fine. I couldn’t leave you to bleed out on the street.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “No, Y/N, I mean it. You… thank you. For, um, not asking me anything about the bruises or the cuts. And for bringing me to your home.” His eyes were so sincere; tired and glittery as they peered down at her. “It’s fine, Harry. Let me get you a shirt.”
She quickly grabbed a large grey shirt she often sleeped in, heart racing as she made her way back to the bathroom where Harry was inspecting the bandaging job she did on his knuckles. “Do you… need my help putting it on?” Y/N asked.
He stared at her for a second, and Y/N was fully ready for him to narrow his eyes at her and tell her to leave him to his own privacy but he only murmured a soft ‘yes please,’ taking a seat on the covered toilet so she could easily slip the material over his head. When she did, his head popped out of the neck hole, hair tousled and falling over his forehead.
Without a second thought, she pushed the rogue strands back, the silence of the bathroom a comfortable blanket in the cold night air. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, leaning further into her touch and fingers holding on to her hips as he revelled in the contact. Her touch eventually travelled further down the nape of his neck, thumbing at the scruff by his jaw.
When his eyes opened again, all she could read in them was how comfortable he was, pupils wide and droopy as his gaze flitted to her mouth, then her eyes again. It was like she was back in that trance-like state that she was from the night at the bar. It seemed impossible to look away from him, and the soft puff of his breath was suddenly much closer to her.
A couple inches more, and she could touch the pillow of her lips to his, finally revelling in the taste of his mouth she had been yearning for.
Before they could though, Coco’s loud yelp tore them from their moment, both of them jumping and putting space between their lips.
Harry cleared his throat and Y/N tried to calm the harsh racing and rise and fall of her chest. He rubbed the tip of his nose. ”I… uh— I should go.”
Coco barked again.
“That darn dog,” Y/N whispered with her lips pursed.
A beat passed.
Harry met her eyes again and the pair giggled simultaneously in the yellow warmth of the bathroom. When the laughter died down, Harry scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks again, Y/N. For everything.”
”It’s okay.” She bit down on her lip to keep her from smiling too big as he stood up from the seat, grabbing his discarded shirt and jacket from the cold tiles. “I’m gonna go. My friend lives just down the street. Should be okay for the night.”
“Mhmm.”
She walked him to her door, “I know it’s not my place or anything but… just be careful.” Harry put his shoes back on, a small smile playing on his lips. “I will.”
“Goodnight, Harry.” She expected him to leave after that, but he grabbed her hand with his good one, delivering a soft, grateful squeeze to it before he let it drop back to her side.
Her skin tingled where he touched it.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Divider by @firefly-graphics
WOHOOO I hope you guys like this one !! the next part will have the steamy yummy smut !! LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG AND KISS :* mwuaaaahhhhh!!!!!!
#harry styles au#harry styles drabble#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#reblog#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#writing#babyyhoneyyy#one direction fanfiction#one direction#harry styles x reader#grumpy x sunshine#harry styles blurb#SLAYYY
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RISK PART I
pairing: mafia!harry x singer!reader
summary: Harry is in town for some.. less than legal business, and you're a local singer trying to get your foot in the door, and also planning your wedding. And maybe Harry is a little too interested in you.
warnings: cussing, slight hints at abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, talks of death, guns, murder, lots of illegal things, alcohol, drugs, me writing with autocaps (ew ik) (this is the worst one)
-
It was far too early for you to be awake, and yet there you were. 7:30 AM on a Tuesday morning in Daytona, standing in a convenience store with your best friend because your boyfriends got drunk the night before.
Well, her boyfriend. Your fiancé.
"Ni was so fucking drunk," Jodie laughed.
"God, I know. I wouldn't be surprised if he wakes up with alcohol poisoning."
"Connor was also pretty fucked up, but it wasn't as funny. He's such an ass when he's drunk."
You sigh, it took her about ten minutes to bring it up. "I know. He's been better though. Just.. I dunno, he gets drunk, and it makes him grumpy," you shrug.
"Yeah, but he kept snapping at you. Seriously, it was pissing me off and killing the vibe."
"Ni shut him up eventually."
You'd long since came to terms with the fact that the man you were planning on marrying was... more or less, a dick, when he was drunk. And when he was sober, but especially when he was drunk.
"You think Advil is enough, or should we just.. grab everything?" you ask as you look through the painkillers. You didn't get drunk enough to ever really find out the best hangover cures. You would, if Connor didn't hate when you were drunk.
"Just grab a pack of those," Jodie told you, gesturing with her hand to a box.
Goody's Hangover Cure.
Well, if he says so.
You turn your head as you hear the telltale bell that signaled someone else had entered the otherwise deserted convenience store. You only looked over for three seconds before the sight of a gun had you dropping the box as you resisted the urge to scream.
There were two men, both with ridiculously large guns, standing in the store. Masks covered their faces.
"Jodie.." you whisper. You were close enough to the back that you were hidden by the shelves, but you could see them.
"Y/N, get behind me. Now," Jodie whispered quickly. She grabbed your wrist and yanked you behind her.
"Give us everything in the register!" one of the men ordered as the clerk frantically opened it.
"Hurry up!" the other one shouted. You flinched.
Jodie slowly pulled both of you to the floor. You both moved so your backs were rested against the shelf, but you might've moved too quick, because your back hit the shelf, and a bunch of boxes topple over.
You squeezed your eyes shut and slapped a hand over your mouth. Jodie tugged you into her shoulder as she squeezed your free hand.
"Who the hell's there?"
Neither of you moved. You weren't even sure you were breathing, actually.
"Go check it out."
Murdered by Robbers at 7:30 in the Morning was about to be the headline about your death.
You watched out of the corner of your eye as one of the men approached. They stopped in front of you two before moving on. You assumed he'd made it to the other guy when--
"There's no one, man."
"You sure?"
"Faulty shelf."
You nearly cried out of relief. You weren't necessarily religious, but you were thanking every God ever at that point.
It was a few more minutes until the doors slammed shut and they left.
-
"The hell are you freaking out about?" Harry asked as the two men stood in the alleyway. Niall was pacing back and forth, running his hands over his face.
"My girlfriend was in there, man."
"What?" Harry asked, sticking a cigarette in between his lips and lighting it.
"My girlfriend! She- I got fucked up last night, and I think she was trying to get me some pills or some shit. She was sitting behind a shelf with one of our friends. Fuck!"
"She doesn't know it was you, Ni, calm down."
"That's not the problem! The problem is that I probably traumatized her! And our friend!"
"We didn't even go near them."
Harry didn't understand what the big deal was. He liked Niall's girlfriend, but she was relatively unbothered about everything.
"Our friend's brother got shot and died during a robbery, H. That's who Jodie was with."
"Oh. Well, that sucks."
"Jesus Christ. Would it kill you to have some empathy?"
"Probably," Harry shrugged.
Niall groaned, "Whatever. But you better be nice as hell whenever we get there."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's fuckin' go before they beat us there and start asking questions."
-
When Jodie and you got back to the house, Niall and Connor were passed out on the couch. You expected to be more shaken up, but you were relatively fine. You weren't having a panic attack, at least.
"I'm gonna go get water," you told her as you tossed her the bag. She nodded as you sighed and walked towards the kitchen. You pulled the fridge open, grabbing a water bottle. You opened it and took a generous sip. You turned and locked eyes with a man you'd never seen before.
"Hey."
You spit your water out all over the counter.
"What the fuck!" you shrieked.
Jodie came running in, "What, what happened? What's--"
Jodie saw the intruder, and instead of losing her shit, she smiled.
Holy shit, my childhood best friend is helping me get murdered, you thought.
"Harry!" she exclaimed as she hugged him.
"Jo! Don't hug the intruder!"
"He's not an intruder," she laughed, turning to face you as they broke the hug. "He's Ni and I's friend. I forgot to tell you he was coming into town."
"Clearly."
"Harry, this is Y/N. Y/N.. Harry."
"Ah, so this is the infamous childhood best friend?"
Once you realized he wasn't there with the intention of stabbing you to death, you relaxed. "Talk about me, much?" you asked Jodie with a teasing grin.
"Only every second of every day," she grinned.
"Fuck Connor and Ni, how about we get married?"
"I was just thinking that!"
You laughed, and turned to Harry, "Sorry I spat water all over you. And screamed at you. And called you an intruder."
"All is forgiven," he laughed.
"I swear I'm normal. I also usually know whenever people are in my house, though."
You glare at Jodie.
"I forgot!" she defended herself.
"Mhm. I'm going back to bed. Wake me up whenever we need to get ready, yeah?"
"Mkay," Jodie laughed as you walked towards the bedroom you shared with Connor. You rolled back into bed and went straight to bed.
-
"She seems.. interesting."
"Yeah. She's real sweet, you'll like her.”
“Isn’t she married?”
“Engaged,” Jodie corrected with a roll of her eyes. “He’s such an ass.”
“He can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, no. He is.”
“Who’s bad?” Connor asked as he slowly walked into the kitchen.
“Uh.. the.. President.”
He gave Jodie an odd look. “… Right..”
“Shut up and go back to bed, Connor.”
“Jesus, good morning to you, too. Who’s the rando?”
“Connor, this is Harry. Harry, that’s Connor. Harry is Niall and I’s friend we were talkin’ about. Connor is… Y/N’s fiancé,” Jodie grimaced as she said the word.
Connor rolled his eyes, “You gotta get over it. You know how upset she’d be if she knew you actually didn’t like me?”
“That’s why you’re gonna keep your mouth shut, asshole.”
“The only reason you don’t like me is because of some stupid shit I did years ago.”
“Yeah, well, where I cone from, we find… that.. unacceptable.”
That had piqued Harry’s interest. What exactly had Connor done to make Jodie hold a multiple-years-long grudge?
As Connor flipped her off and left the kitchen, Harry turned to Jodie. “So, what’d he do?”
Jodie opened her mouth, like she was about to tell him, before sighing. “I can’t say. I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell anyone or bring it up again. She still gets upset about it. Sorry,” she gave him an apologetic look.
“‘S’fine. I’ll just find out myself. I’m sure I could convince her.”
Jodie narrowed her eyes at him, “Be nice.”
“I’m hurt. I’m always nice.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
-
Later that day, Niall had dragged Harry to some dingy club.
“The hell are we doin’ here, man?” Harry scoffed.
Niall laughed, “Calm down, mate, the girls are gonna meet us here. Plus, we’re gonna have a Connor-free night, which means Y/N will one thousand percent get drunk. She’s a blast, honestly.”
“She not get drunk often, or what?”
“She used to,” Niall shrugged. “When we were in college, she was a pro drinker. Took forever for her to get drunk. But… Connor hates when she’s wasted, ‘cause then he has to ‘deal with it’, as he says.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Every single thing I hear about him makes me dislike him more-“
“Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome to the stage… The Diamonds!”
“Where the hell are the girls at? The band’s about to start.”
Niall smirked, leaning against the counter, “You’ll see.”
The band walked onstage and Harry nearly choked on his drink as you and Jodie took the mics. He’d known Jodie for years— since when was she in a band? And you didn’t seem like the band type, either.
“You can beat the heat, if you beat the charges, too,” you began singing as the music started. “They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true. And my friends all smell like weed or little babies. And the city reeks of driving myself crazy..”
The way you looked was driving him crazy. Black Bell Bottom jeans with stars embroidered on the legs with platform stiletto type heels, and a leather halter top.
Jodie’s outfit was a little different. Platform shoes, black tights, a denim mini-skirt, and a black long-sleeve with a leather jacket thrown over.
“Little did you know, your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in. So, you work your life away just to pay for a time-share down in Destin.”
“Florida,” you and Jodie sang.
“Is one hell of a drug.”
“Florida.”
“Can I use you up?”
“The hurricane with my name when it came,” Jodie sang, finally singing on her own. The people in the crowd who knew her, cheered, including Niall and Harry. “I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away. Barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine. Well, me and my ghost, we had a hell of a time. Yes, I’m haunted, but I’m feeling just fine. All my girls got their lace and their crimes. And your cheating husband disappeared. Well, no one asks any questions here. So, I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that gave ever been on my body, and in my mind… they sink into the swamp.”
“.. Is that a bad thing to say in a song?” Jodie whisper-sang with you. He could hear your laugh through the singing, and it was like a drug to him. Sweet as honey.
“Little did you know,” Jodie sang, “your home’s really only the town you’ll get arrested. So you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas.”
“Florida!” the two of you sang, jumping on the beat.
“Is one hell of a drug.”
“Florida!”
“Can I use you..”
“.. up,” Jodie joined you.
“I need to forget, so, take me to Florida,” you sang.
“I’ve got some regrets, I’ll bury them in Florida.”
“Tell me I’m despicable, say it’s unforgivable.”
The two of you sang together, “At least the dolls are beautiful. Fuck me up, Florida.”
“I need to forget, so take me to Florida.”
“I’ve got some regrets, I’ll bury them in Florida,” Jodie joined you.
You split off to sing by yourself, “Tell me I’m despicable, say it’s unforgivable. What a crash, what a rush, fuck me up, Florida! It’s one hell of a drug..”
“It’s one hell of a drug!” The two of you sang. “Love left me like this, and I don’t want to exist, so, take me to Florida!”
“Little did you know your home’s really only,” you sang.
“A town you’re just a guest in.”
“So you work your life away just to pay—“
“— for a timeshare down in Destin.”
“Take me to—“
“— Florida.”
“Little did you know, your home’s really only the town you’ll get arrested.”
“Florida.”
The two of you sang together, “So you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas. Florida! Is one hell of a drug.”
“Take me to,” you sang.
“Florida,” Jodie sang with you. “Can I use you up? Florida!”
“Is one hell of a drug.”
“Florida!”
“Go on, fuck me.. up.”
The club erupted into cheers as the two of you finished the song.
“They’re good,” Harry commented.
“Yeah. They’re a force to be reckoned with. ‘specially Y/N.”
“So it seems.”
-
A/N: AAAAA IM SO EXCITWD FOR THIS OKAY YAYY
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry#harry fic#harry styles au#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#mafia#mafia au#mafiarry#mafia harry styles#mafia harry#mafia!harry styles#singer!reader#x reader
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"On The Field"
*This is not my photo, but I couldn't find the original poster to credit them.🥺(but thank you to whoever made this)*
THIS SERIES WILL HAVE LONGER PARTS, BUT THIS FIRST PART IS MOSTLY AN INTRODUCTION❤️
*I want this to be a short series, but I am not sure if this is even something people would like?? Please let me know how you like it, or don't like it.. I NEED THE FEED BACK*
Footballrry / reader
Plot: Dating the football star is not what you pictured happening your sophomore year of college, but its happening, and you have to keep calm... how does one keep calm when he looks like..that??
Word Count: 1K and some change
Warnings: none yet, just the smirk we all dream about and a little bit of fluff.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Being in a football stadium is not how I thought my winter break would go. I thought for sure it would be spent with my friends on some extravagant vacation somewhere warm or maybe even going home to my family. It is so weird how things worked out this year. My friends went home to their families, and my parents wanted to spend their first vacation alone now that both of their kids are off at college and they are empty nesters. I found myself staring at the field and studying how the players moved about. The one thing I am most grateful for is the fact that I am currently sitting in a box chair in the warmth. The stadium box was a luxurious escape from the frigid winter air outside, with plush seats, a stocked minibar, and a perfect view of the field below. I don't care how many heat lamps are facing the field right now, I won’t be caught dead down there. The biting cold was relentless, and I could see the players’ breath forming clouds as they huddled and ran their drills.
With my textbook in my lap, I continued to multitask studying and watching the boys on Lambeau Field. My..actually, I don’t know what to call him.. we have yet to label anything. He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, while his coach chased him, teammates laughing at the scene. I smiled softly and giggled, in total awe of his childlike nature. Shaking my head, I looked back down and continued taking notes. This class is kicking my ass, and I do not want to have to retake it. College is a bitch, and I don't want to stay any longer than I have to.
My thought process was interrupted by the club door opening. Turning my head to see who it was, I smiled and closed my book. “Hey, babe.” My best friend, Isla, said cheerfully, sitting down next to me.
“Hey, what are you still doing here? I thought you were going home this year?” I recalled. She sighed and looked down at the boys still practicing on the field.
“I am, but I just wanted to look at your dreamboat before I left.” She taunted.
I rolled my eyes before throwing my head back in a cackle. “He is not my dreamboat.” I could feel my cheeks heat up. My blush only deepened when I heard a quiet ‘Yet’ escape her mouth.
She cleared her throat before she continued. “All joking aside, I just came to say bye, and because I know you guys are in the puppy phase, you would be here pretending to study but actually staring at him the whole time.” She winked. “I love you, stay safe, I will see you in two weeks. And remember!” She chirped while standing back up. “Don’t be silly, wrap his willy!” She screamed. I swatted her thigh while she howled in laughter.
I chuckled, shaking my head as Isla made her way out of the box. Turning my attention back to the field, I noticed my favorite boy glancing up at the stands. For a brief moment, our eyes met, his lips lifting to the side to smirk and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
As I tried to refocus on my textbook, my mind kept drifting back to him. The way he moved with such confidence and energy was captivating. Despite the cold outside, the warmth of the box and the sight of him made everything feel a little bit brighter.
As practice wrapped up, the players began to filter off the field. The star player jogged toward the sidelines, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his face. He glanced up at the boxed seats, his eyes scanning the seats, pretending not to see where I am, until they landed on me. A smile spread across his face, and he gave a small wave. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my cheeks flush again. I waved back, feeling a flutter of excitement.
A few minutes later, he appeared at the door of the club box, still dressed in his practice gear. Harry leaned against the doorframe, looking effortlessly handsome. "Hey, stranger," he said with a grin. "Mind if I join you?" His green eyes shining bright against his flushed face.
I gestured to the seat next to me, trying to play it cool. "Sure, come on in. How was practice?" I am going to throw up.
His large body plopped beside me and I instantly got hints of musky vanilla. His presence immediately made the room feel warmer. "It was good, just the usual drills and stuff. Coach is really pushing us hard, but it's worth it." He glanced at my textbook. Wrapping his arm around me he spoke once more, "What about you? Studying during break—you're dedicated."
I sighed, closing the book again. "Yeah, trying to keep up with this class. It's a killer."
He nodded, his expression serious. "If you need any help, just let me know. I was pretty good at that class last semester."
I smiled, grateful for the offer. "Thank you, I might take you up on that."
For the next hour, we talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily. Harry had a way of making me feel comfortable, even when I was a nervous wreck inside. As we chatted, I couldn't help but think about how unexpected this winter break had turned out to be. It wasn't the vacation I had planned, but sitting here with him, it felt like it might turn out to be even better.
Eventually, Harry stood up, stretching. "I should probably hit the showers. But seriously, if you need help with that class, just text me."
I nodded, standing up as well. "I will. Thanks for the offer, H."
He smiled, that same infectious grin that had captivated me from the start. "Anytime. See you tonight, alright?" He leaned down to kiss my forehead and then my lips softly before making his way out the door.
As he walked out of the club box, I felt a warmth in my chest. Maybe this winter break wouldn't be so bad after all.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
#harry edward styles#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#footballrryxyou#harry x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry styles boyfriend#football harry styles x you#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction
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Harry Styles - Hard Launch
Summary: Harry and Y/N decide to surprise the world with their relationship during a Harryween concert.
Word Count: 479
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One year ago you were just a Harry Styles fan, living in London. You had seen plenty of people say how they randomly bumped into him on the street and each day you wondered if today would be your turn.
It happened when you were least expecting it. You’d been stuck at work and it was late at night. Much later than you were comfortable walking around the city alone.
A man walked out of a door right as you were passing it, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. It was when he apologized for startling you that you realized the man was Harry Styles. He walked you the rest of the way home, making conversation the whole time.
When you got to your door and bid each other good night you figured that would be the end of it. But then a few days later a beautiful bouquet of flowers arrived at your home.
One year, and many dates with Harry later, has led you to this moment, and you’re nearly shitting bricks.
It’s Harryween. This year's theme is Little Shop of Horrors. Harry’s on stage, dressed as Seymour, and you’ve already heard the crowd wondering why no one is dressed as Audrey.
Later in the show, when he starts singing “Suddenly Seymour” the murmurs begin again, everyone excited to see who will sing the duet with him.
Meanwhile you’re just offstage, fiddling with the hem of your black dress and making sure your blonde wig is pinned securely. You clutch the mic in your hand while taking deep breaths.
Your cue comes and you walk on stage as you sing your first notes. You lock eyes with Harry, ignoring the arena full of fans and pretending it’s just the two of you. Just like all the times you practiced together at home.
There’s a light in his eyes as he looks at you. He’s proud, you can tell, and he reaches to hold your hand as you hit the final notes of the song.
Applause erupts around you but your focus remains on Harry. He leans over, angling to speak directly into your ear.
“Hard launch?” He asks and you laugh. You’d been joking for weeks now about telling the world about your relationship in such a dramatic fashion.
“Hard launch,” you confirm. Your eyes meet again, sharing a final look before he leans in and plants a kiss on your lips. Right there, in front of thousands of fans.
There’s commotion of course, and it sounds like mostly cheering so you take that as a good sign. You glance at the band, seeing them cheering as well and looking so happy for the two of you.
It’s going to get more complicated, now that the world knows about your relationship, but it’s worth it to be able to spend your life duetting with Harry.
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AN: Thanks for reading! This idea was inspired one day while I made pasta salad from the "Suddenly Salad" mix (which I personally don't recommend) and I could stop singing the song. And then became obsessed with the idea of singing it with Harry.
Hope you liked this v short story!
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#prom dress#seth rollins#alcohol#deancas#Mary Elizabeth Winstead#author#natalia starr#sally face#harry styles x reader#Taylor Marie Hill
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#ariel#sex and drugs#Mary Elizabeth Winstead#promare#author#natalia starr#sally face#harry styles x reader#only tease#Taylor Marie Hill#ed bllog
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Where We Started Part 4: One Round
Masterlist: Here
Tag List: @fairytale07 @blckburd
CW: None
A/N: I really do love how you and Harry communicate and how you know him so well, hope y’all enjoy✨
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles series#harry styles x reader#harry styles social media au#Harry styles fake texts#texting harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#Harry styles x bestfriend!reader#best friend!harry#friends to lovers#Harry styles friends to lovers#Harry styles#one direction fanfiction#my little lanky baby
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posted now on patreon
LINK TO SUBSCRIBE
#harry styles x reader#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harrysfolklore
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Cheeky Peek...👀
a/n: this is a sneak peak of that kinky smut i told yall about forever ago tehehe....i'm about halfway through with editing it! so i figured i'd let you see what will hopefully be up tonight! Harry is famous, but it's still kind of AU-ish? his fame is a feature but it's only briefly mentioned. ya know? let me know what ya think so far! :)
You were bored, and beyond ready to go home. You hated award season, selfishly. You knew what it meant for Harry, and you were always so proud of him, and his accomplishments. But dammit did you hate all that came along with it. The dressing up, and the cameras, not to mention the interviews. You’d only ever get a question or two thrown at you,but regardless, you were not built for it.
Harry though, he was a born natural. He didn’t love the attention all of the time, but you knew him well enough to know that he did get a bit of a kick out of the attention. And he knew how to handle it far better than you ever could. It made you feel all the more guilty when, all you wanted to do was stay home, and cook a nice meal together and watch your shows. But you were nothing if not supportive, always taking one for the team, even if the team was just Harry. “It’s just a few hours,” you’d tell yourself.“Just a few hours and then I can have him all to myself the rest of the night.” And that’s what you told yourself, and that's how you ended up here, at some after party, in a dress, vacuum sealed to your body in heels that feel like stilts, and a little too tipsy from the free-flowing champagne.
Harry had just gotten off the small stage,giving a speech about…something. And while you were so proud of him, and how he commanded a room, you hadn’t heard a word he said. You were too busy gawking at your charming, devilishly handsome boyfriend.
Harry works his way through the crowd, eyes locked on you and a dimples popped as he tries his best to make it to your side. He’s stopped a few times, gives some pleasentrises before he’s by your side again, kissing your temple.
“You, alright?” he askes. You nod with a hum, looking up at him over your champaign flute.
“Why are you looking at me like that,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in. Harry knows the look, its a look you only ever give him when your in one of your moods. And it usually proceeds you sucking the soul out of him.
“Like what?” you ask, earnestly.
“Right,” He chuckles, eyes looking down at your lip tucked between your teeth.
“What? I’m not looking at you like anything!” You defend, leaning up to kiss his cheek. And then it dawns on him.
You don’t even realize just how you’d been looking at him. All pout, and doe eyes, begging to be fucked and taken care of like you deserve.
“Nothing, honey.” He places a hand on your cheek smirking before leaning and kissing your forehead “Let’s head out, hm? You look tired.”
“I’m fine! We can stay.” you lie, grateful that he’s suggested you head out early.
“Baby,” he says with a smile, but his tone is the one that makes your legs feel like Jell-O, “We’re going home. I did my obligation. I’ll go get the car. You meet me out front, after you’ve said your goodbye to everyone alright?” He askes, but it’s more like a demand.
You nod with a smile, finishing off your drink. He kisses the top of your head, and you watch him make his exit.
****
“You sounded great up there, Har.” You smile reaching for his hand resting on the shift. He laces your fingers togetyoukissigg by the back of your hand.
“Thanks, Baby Love.” he says with a gentle smile. He pulls up to a red light, looking over at you. “You looked gorgeous tonight baby.”
“You’ve said that already.” you giggle, feeling your cheeks warm up. You lean your head back against the head rest, nibbling at your bottom lip, “A few times actually.”
“And I meant it every time I said it. And I mean it now.” he smirks.
“You look good too.” you smirk.You reache your hand up to his hair at the name of his neck, playing with the curls there. “Your hair looks nice like this. It’s very 90’s Leo.” You giggle and he smirks.
“Yeah? ‘S that a good thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you nod, “and I like this.” You say reaching over tugging on the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a black semi sheer top, with some lace detail. It’s simple, but paired with the jewlry and the the fact that you can see his tattoos peaking through…you were more than pleased with tonights outfit.
“I thought you might.” He turns his head to kiss your palm that’s made it to his cheek, giving it two spongy kisses.
The light turns and his attention is back on the road, so you watch the side of his face instead. Watching as his dimple pokes out when he smiles. “It was written all over your face.” He chuckles after a few moments.
“What was?” You ask brows furrowed
“Those filthy thoughts of yours.” You don’t say a word, just clear your throat, nibbling on your bottom lip and turning your head looking forward. Harry looks over, eyes boring into the side of your face with a smirk. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what filthy thoughts were going on in that pretty head of yours. Hmm?”
“Noth-” you start.
“Don’t lie to me, you know what happens when you do.” You swallow thickly looking over at him. For the second time tonight he’s used that tone. That dominant tone that only ever comes out when you ///play/// together. And it’s got you feeling all out of sorts. You squeeze your thighs togetyoutrying to sooth the ache thats sprung up between your thighs. “Tell me.” He presses once more.
“Just….thinking about playing with your hair….while you’re between my legs.” you whisper nervously.
You’d been with Harry for a while now. And you were never one to be shy about discussing intimacy. But when he put on that voice, and with his hand heavy on your thigh, it always seemed to make you bashful.
“And?” he prompts. Harry knows there's more, there’s always more with you. “My little minx” Harry always joked.
Really he just wanted to work you up. Get you as frustrated, and hot and bothered as he could, because he had plans for tonight. Harry was finally going to reward you for being such a good girl, for him. Not just tonight and stomaching yet another event, but for all of awards season. You’ve always hated the cameras and parties. You’ve hated sharing him with the world. Selfish yes, but he felt the same about you. He couldn’t fathom how you felt every year around this time when he had to be ‘Harry Styles’ and not just your Harry, being ‘on’ all the time and away from you. But, you’ve been ///so/// good, and he knows he hasn’t been as attentive as he should be these last few months, so he was finally going to give you all the attention he’s deprived from you lately. All the attention you’ve been too shy, or scared to ask for.
“Your rings.” you finally blurt out.
“What about them?”
“I was thinking….” you pause trying to figure out the least crude way to phrase it,“About feeling them on my ass. I like when you spank me with them, and I like feeling them when…when you finger me too. Its nice.”
“You want me spank you baby?”Harry asks cautiously, you nod your head slowly. “Why?” he asks brows furrowed, with only a bit of concern “Did you do something to earn you a spanking?”
You and Harry were no stangers to spanking, or playing rough. But they were usally only reserved for your punishments, or ‘funishments’ as you so dubbed them, as you quite liked the feeling of Harry’s hands on you.
“Maybe.” you purred.
Now he’s intrigued. This was about teasing you before you got home. But now? This was about playing the game. His favorite game, yours too. He snaps his head over to you as you approached another red light.
“Maybe?” he quips, “You either broke a rule, or you didn’t baby? Which is it?”
You take a moment, trying to figure out which way to play it, which way would get you what you wanted most. You could continue to play coy, could lie, or you could be honest.
You chose the later.
“I did.” you coo, biting your bottom lip.
“Hmm,” He hums, leaning over the concoul to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a bit glassy already, a look you only really ever got when you the two of you played. When you were feeling submissive. “And what rule would that be?”
You look down at his hand that found its way from your thigh to become tangled with yours, twirling the ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his fingers. “No panties.” You mumbled.
He heard you, but he really enjoyed making you repeat things, especially if he knew that you were a little embarrassed. “Louder baby. And look at me.” he demands softly.
“I’m not wearing any panties.”
“No?” He mocks. You shake your head as the light turns green. Harry smirks at you, before, slowly pressing the accelerator, eyes back to the road.
“Why would you do that baby? Go to such an important event, a room full of people with no panties on?” he asks. He knows why, or at least he suspects. But he wants to hear you say it. Likes to tease you, yes, maybe humiliate you a little for being his perfect little slut.
“I was thinking about the last time. Last week and how we…snuck away.”
He smirks looking over at you, with lust filled eyes he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand again. He rembers it fondly, as one of the best quickes you’ve had. Definetly the riskiest you’ve ever been, and he’s not stopped thinking about it since. And apparently neither have you.
“You didn’t wear any panties so it would be easier for me to fuck you in the bathroom again? Is that it?” he probed.
“Yes,” you squeak.
Harry rolls to a stop, at yet another red light. Cursing the fact that it seems they’ve not made a single one on your ride back. He looks over at you, dimples out, eyes dark with lust.
“You like being a slut in public baby?” You nod. Chewing on your bottom lip. He reaches up, and pulling it from you teeth, running his thumb over it. “Why didn’t you ask, hmm? You know how to ask for what you want?” you shrug your shoulders, squeezing your thighs tighter together. Harry takes notice and presses further, “Instead you were looking at me like a cock drunk whore.” he tisks, “In front of all those people. If I saw it, you know everyone else did too. Don’t you,sweetheart?”
“I didn’t - I don’t know.” You pouts
“It’s okay baby.” he chuckles, “I’ll take care of you when we get home okay. We’re almost there.
“Yes Sir.” you say, with a dopy grin. The honorific just slipped out, before you realized. You may have been slightly embarrassed if it werent for the promise of what’s to come later tonight.
“Good girl.” He praises, leaning over the consol. He kisses you once, twice, and then a third time before you hear honking behind you.
Harry pulls away from your kiss, seeing the lights turned. There’s another impatient honk before Harry pulls off muttering an “asshole” under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror. You look out your window. Trying to keep yourself from squirming too much as Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, lightly massaging it.
#cheeky peek#sneak peak#fic preview#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry x yn#harry x you#harry fanfic#harry fanfiction#harry fan fic#harry fiction#harry fandom#harry writing#harry imagine#harry imagines#harry blurbs#harry blurb#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles x y/n#dom!harry#dom!harry x reader#dom!harry styles#dom!harry styles x reader#harry smut#harry styles smut#dom!harry styles x yn#dom!harry x yn#dom!harry styles x y/n
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