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#harry styles fanfiction rec
harrysdaydream-tpwk · 9 months
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“I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch- H.S”
summary: Harry and you argue after his show at Wembley and he gets jealous and pissy. Angst ensues
warnings: arguments, swearing, angst with a happy ending
pairing: harry styles x fem!reader
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The door slammed shut behind him, his footsteps heavy, even on the carpeted floor. You sighed, tired and weary. It had been a long night and by the looks of it, it was about to get even longer.
Harry huffed, taking off his shoes with more force than necessary, throwing them in the general direction of his open suitcase. He wasn’t wearing the colourful outfit anymore, looking much more like yours in the black nike shorts and worn-out t-shirt you’ve seen far too many times on him. You stood in the doorway between the ensuite bathroom and the bedroom, watching him quietly as he ran his fingers through his brown hair repeatedly-noting it had get even longer since the last time you saw him.
He looked up at you finally, his eyes stormy and half-lidded. He was mad, furious even and you weren’t totally sure why. You hadn’t seen him for three weeks, the tour taking a toll on your relationship and you had hoped this night would’ve at least be a change to your boring office life, a moment with the man you loved so dearly.
“What is your problem?”, you said demanding, sounding harsher than intended. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest, you yourself still dressed in the outfit you had chosen for tonight’s show. A pink, puffy dress, matching cowboy boots and hat. Hell, you had even put on a boa, going all out.
“My-“, he breathed out, before getting louder, “My problem? What the hell is your problem? We haven’t seen each other in almost a month and you already go around flirting with other guys? At my own damn show nonetheless?” He stood up from where he was sat on the king sized bed, taking a step closer to you.
“What?”, you sputtered unbelievingly. “What the fuck are you even talking about? All I did was talk to your mum and your sister, I haven’t seen either of them since Christmas and you just accuse me of things that didn’t even happen? Fuck you.” Tears gathered in your eyes and he noticed, faltering slightly.
“I saw you”, he started, pointing his finger at you,” Talking to him. I don’t know who he was, I don’t even care. I just know you were laughing pretty hard at his jokes or whatever he was telling you. A little too much to just be friendly.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Ryan-“
He interrupted you before you could even finish. “Oh, Ryan”, he mocked, “Is that his name? Gotta be careful you don’t start moaning his name the next time we fuck.”
He was getting really worked up now, the vain on his forehead popping and you were getting angrier by the minute too. He had always been jealous, even a little possessive, and it was getting on your nerves.
“Ryan is an old friend from school, you asshole. You know him, I invited him to my birthday party two years ago. He’s gay, Harry, so he’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in him. It’s just a coincidence, he told me you were really nice to him when he met you and that he wanted to support you. Although, I don’t expect him to think so highly of you if he knew what you’re throwing at me right now.” You took a deep breath in, the tears finally breaching free. You couldn’t keep them in any longer.
You were exhausted, travelling from home to see him at Wembley, his concert of two hours and then this argument on top of it. The weak and selfish part of you just wanted him to hold you, while the bigger part just wanted to yell at him some more. You missed him and he was treating you so unfairly.
“I missed you”, you whispered, “I just wanted to spend the night with you peacefully, you’re my home, Harry. Why don’t you ever make me feel like I’m yours too?” You let out a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth defeated.
“Oh. Oh, Y/N.” His eyes were soft now, staring at you unnervingly. “Here, sit down, my love. You look like you’ll fall over any minute.” He guided you to a chair nearby, pushing you down gently.
“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, kneeling before you. His face was illuminated by the lights of London outside the big hotel window. “This tour has taken a toll on me, I missed you so much more, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I just got so upset over the thought of you with someone else. I’m so selfish, I wish I could have you by my side everyday, you know? I love you and I never want to hurt you, not like this. Not over something I have so obviously perceived wrongly.”
You laughed wetly, your make-up probably smudged, making you look like a hot mess. “You know, I’m starting to think that you were right when you sang that you were just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit that he’s sorry.” He chuckled quietly, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“I forgive you”, you said, kissing his palm, which was still holding your face gently, “But never say something like this to me again. I’d never cheat on you, not in a million chances. You’re my everything.”
“And you’re mine. We’ve got to figure out a way to see each other more, even when I’m touring and you’re working. I can’t go a day without you, without missing your beautiful face.”
You smiled softly, leaning down and he took the invitation to press a gentle, closed- mouthed kiss to your lips, a promise you understood, you accepted.
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lmk what you think<3 haven’t written in a while so i’m a bit rusty! i’m also working on a larger project that should hopefully be up in a few weeks. until then i’ll try my luck with smaller blurbs and one shots. enjoy!<3
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pancakes4two · 1 year
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sweet nothings
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preview: The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up.
An article criticizing Harry blows up on the internet, and it hits him harder than expected. Luckily, you’re there to help pick up the pieces.
MASTERLIST | READ MY LATEST SERIES
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructers, and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more," to you I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.
—Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift
———
The article is released on a Friday afternoon. It's absolutely brutal—rips single every creative project Harry's ever done to shreds and leaves no endeavor unscathed. Every sentence is a biting remark, each paragraph swirled with vile accusations. It starts by criticizing his film roles, the creative direction he took in his third album, then accuses him of extorting his own fans. The author questions not only his artistry but his personhood, digs up unverified claims of rudeness and twists them into a narrative of Harry being an egotistical, ungrateful pop star. Within the hour, almost every major news station has picked the story up. It doesn’t matter how far-fetched it is. The internet takes to the author’s vitriol like wildfire, sharing it across social media platforms and online forums. Everyone wants to be the first to say they always knew something wasn’t quite right about him, that it’s about time someone knocked him off his pedestal.
It’s disgusting in every sense of the word. And it hurts even more because Harry is blissfully unaware. He’s asleep beside you now, the two of you having settled into bed to take a quick nap together three hours earlier, when the internet had yet to point their pitchforks towards him. You know he’s been overextending himself lately, still sleeping off the jet lag from tour but unwilling to slow down his life on account of tiredness. He’s always been like that, so dedicated to his music, because to him, putting less than two-hundred percent into the thing he loves most would be a waste. You can hardly remember the last time he’d slept earlier than two after coming home—even without touring commitments, he’s still found a way to keep himself busy—staying late in the studio and meeting with executives from his record label to review the marketing plan for his next album. He’s always thinking about the future, how he can reinvent himself and make sure he can stay doing what he loves for as long as possible.
It’s why he’d deserved this chance to unwind and relax in the quiet of your home. But now, he’s going to wake up to a rogue journalist completely assassinating his character, when all he’s ever wanted to do is sing and make others happy. The way you see it, it’s not the least bit fair.
You look at Harry and brush his curls away from his face gently so as to not wake him. Your phone is still turned on, the article glaring angrily against your palm as you watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful, his arm curled around your waist and his legs tangled with yours as if he can’t bear to be far away from you even in slumber. You wish everyone else could see him like this: soft and vulnerable, his lips upturned ever-so-slightly like he’s dreaming about something particularly pleasant.
The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up. Ten years down the road and he’s gained confidence, for sure. But when he’s not busy being this glittering, hip-wiggling rockstar who moves like he’s got the whole world in the palm of his hand, he’s just Harry. He still wrings his hands nervously before every performance, burns his tongue on hot tea that’s meant to preserve his voice. You remember what he said to you back in June before his first stadium show: I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be someone who doesn’t care about what others think of them. He cares more than the article’s author and the legions of people criticizing his every move online will ever know.
You shuffle forward, closing the gap between your bodies and press a soft kiss into Harry’s forehead. You don’t expect him to stir from it, but it seems he was just about to wake up naturally before you disturbed him, so his eyes slowly open and he smiles when his vision focuses on you. You try to school your expression into something relatively normal. Unfortunately, Harry knows you too well and can immediately tell that something’s off. In any other situation, you’d be impressed by how well he can read you. Even with his mind suspended between alertness and sleep, he knows you’re upset and reaches for your hand in concern.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, rubbing circles into the back of your hand. He knows the repetitive motion grounds you when you’re anxious, so he continues to graze your skin with his thumb, willing you to relax.
“H—“ you start to say, but you’re cut off by the sound of Harry’s ringtone. He reaches over you to grab his phone from the nightstand, his other hand still clasped with yours. When he falls back into the mattress, you manage to get a glance at his phone screen. It’s displaying an incoming call from Jeff. Fuck.
Harry accepts the call, still ignorant to the situation. His gaze flickers over your face as the line connects—he's clearly still worried about you.
"Hey, H," Jeff says. You can hear him sigh through the phone, "have you been online recently?"
"Been asleep for the past," Harry pauses to check the time, "three hours, so that would be a no."
"Shit," Jeff says, sounding significantly less collected than he usually does. "Okay. Um, do me a favor and stay off of social media for now. I'll call you when it's all been resolved."
"What?" Harry sits up slightly at the sound of Jeff's voice, running a hand through his hair. "I'm confused. Is everything alright?"
"Listen, it's fine. I've got it all under control, just... don't go on Instagram, or Twitter, or anything."
"Jeff," Harry groans, "don't be cryptic. You're obviously dealing with something that's got to do with me, don't you think I have a right to know what's going on?"
There's silence over line for a bit, Jeff clearly ruminating over whether or not to tell Harry the truth. You chew on your lip worriedly, waiting for his voice to come through again.
"There's an article that’s been published online," Jeff starts, "and it's highly critical of you. It's circulating through social media right now, and we're trying to put a stop to it. I've got a meeting with your label's attorneys in a few minutes, but seriously H, for your own good please do not read it. We'll have it taken down by the end of the day."
"Oh," Harry blinks, clearly caught off-guard. You can't blame him for it. People don't normally wake up from naps and find out half the internet has turned against them. "Alright. That's fine. Um, call me if you need anything. Good luck."
"H, I'm serious, don't—" Jeff begins, but Harry hangs up before he can finish his sentence. He's already sat up fully in bed, back leaning against the headboard as he types away furiously on his phone. You don't try to stop him from Googling the article; he deserves to see what's been written. You just sit up next to him and silently run a hand down his arm, tracing where the fabric of his t-shirt ends and the familiar ink on his skin begins. You reach for him and let him know that he has you to lean on.
"You know what they've written isn't true," you whisper, "you know that." It’s all you can say for now.
Harry doesn't respond to that, his eyes too busy scanning through the article. He spends the next seven minutes reading every word silently, taking each criticism and judgement in. When he’s finished, Harry shuts his phone off with a click and sets it down silently on the bedside table. You avert your eyes from him, afraid that if you look up you might be able to see every morsel of hurt on his face.
In the end, Harry’s the first to break the silence.
“Who approved that?” Is what he says, his voice faltering almost imperceptibly at the end. It’s quiet enough that only someone who knows him as well as you do would be able to notice.
“H,” you respond, splaying your hand across his chest and letting his head fall gently onto your shoulder.
“None of that is real. It’s not a reflection of who you are.” You say that with conviction. He’s got the most beautiful soul, does everything with so much heart. He’s so full of love that at times you worry he might burst from it. It’s completely unfair what he’s been reduced to.
“You can only read shitty things about yourself for so long before you start to believe them,” Harry says brokenly, and his composure gives away then. He takes a trembling breath in and you feel a wetness start to form on the sleeve of your shirt. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s crying.
It’s in moments like these where his façade starts to crumble, and you see him transform back into the boy you once knew, before the whole world knew his name. Spending every day terrified that at any given moment, people wouldn’t want to listen to his voice anymore and the rug would be pulled from under his feet. Fearing that he might wake up one day and have to return to Holmes Chapel, even though he’s always been too big for the small town he grew up in.
“Love,” you say, pressing a hand to his cheek. His skin is flushed and you can see the ghost of a tear falling down the side of his face. “How is anyone meant to believe anything they’ve said is valid, when they don’t know you? I know exactly who you are, and the person they’re talking about in that article is not it.”
Harry sniffles at that, pulling himself closer to you. You see him glance at his phone, so you turn it over facedown and revert your full attention back to him.
“You’re so incredibly special,” you continue, carding your hands soothingly through his hair, “you’ve achieved an immense amount of success in the last ten years. You’ve impacted so many people, used your platform to do so much good. There’s always going to be people who want more from you, who criticize and tell you you’re not doing enough. But you are doing enough, H. Seriously. You’re only human, and it’s not your fault that others expect you to be more than that. And even so, I think you make a pretty exceptional human already. You know how many people walk up to me when I’m alone and ask me to tell you that you’ve changed their lives? There’s so many that I’d lost track of the number about seven years ago.”
Harry opens his mouth to say something in response, but you pat his face gently and give him a smile as if to say, I’m not finished yet.
“And beyond that, who cares about the industry, about what faceless people online have to say about you? At the end of the day, you’re enough. I’m not here for the Harry Styles who fills stadiums or commands attention at movie premieres. I’m here for the Harry who accidentally leaves the coffee pot on for too long because he’s too busy trying to get me to dance with him in the kitchen. For the Harry who keeps movie stubs and pebbles deep inside his pockets because he wants to keep a souvenir to remind him of every little thing we’ve done together. The Harry who’s a huge sentimental sap, who’s got the biggest heart in the world.”
You finish with a sigh, gazing at Harry earnestly and hoping that he can feel the gravity of your words.
“You’re right,” Harry smiles softly, clasping a hand around your wrist, voice slightly raspy still. “I shouldn’t let it get to my head. It’s just hard sometimes, you know? I feel like I might be a little too soft for all of it.”
“I love your softness and vulnerability,” you say, “And getting upset when people are dragging your name through the mud is perfectly normal. I can’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming it is for you. But you’ll always have me right here beside you. And trust me, I’d be going to war for you over Twitter right now if I knew Jeff wouldn’t kill me for doing so.”
Harry laughs at that, loud and open in the way that you love. “My Princess Charming,” he says, wrapping his arms around you in a crushing hug. “Forever prepared to defend my honor.”
True to his word, Jeff and Columbia’s legal team get the article taken down in record time. They say Harry’s allowed to post a response to it, if he wants, but he’s never been one to start fights over the internet so he settles on this instead.
A single picture, posted to his Instagram of your hands, your fingers intertwined like the two of you were built to be extensions of each other. The caption is simple. It reads:
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside, they’re push and shoving; you’re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.
He turns the comments off, not wanting to entertain any further commentary. It’s a picture meant for just the two of you, a reminder that all the noise coming from the outside means nothing when you have each other. It’s sweet. It’s nothing. And yet somehow, it’s everything you’ll ever need.
———
reblogs & feedback are highly welcomed and appreciated <3
TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld​ @grapejuice-rry​ @b-reads-things​ @s8tellite @michellekstyles​ @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight​ @flwrmuse 
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finelinefae · 1 month
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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]
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synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 
word count: 8.6k
content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 
read part 2 here
my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !
. . .
Y/N had been having a terrible week.
She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.
People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.
But this week was not fun.
The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.
Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.
It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.
Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.
So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.
Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.
"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.
She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.
The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.
The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.
Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.
The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.
She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.
"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.
She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.
"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.
He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."
The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."
His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."
She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."
"M allergic to flowers." He said.
"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.
"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.
He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.
Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.
He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."
Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."
"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.
"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.
"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.
"Yes." She nods.
"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."
She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.
"That's different."
"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.
"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.
"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."
Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."
He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.
He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."
She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.
"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.
Her entire face heats at the nickname.
***
The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.
She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.
When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.
Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.
After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.
She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.
Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.
It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.
She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.
"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.
At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.
Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.
At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.
She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.
The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.
Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.
"Excuse me please," she mumbled.
"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.
She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.
The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.
"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.
"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.
"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."
"Mine is." She said.
"What?"
"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.
His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."
"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.
"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.
Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.
Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.
"Is that your new girl Styles?"
"Nice one, H."
"Have fun Styles."
"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.
"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.
"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.
She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.
"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.
Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.
"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"
"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."
She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.
"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.
"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.
"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.
It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.
He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.
"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.
He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.
Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.
"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.
"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.
***
Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.
She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.
She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.
When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.
She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.
Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.
Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.
An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.
In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.
Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.
"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"
"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.
The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."
Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."
"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"
"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.
Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.
She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.
He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.
"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.
"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."
The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"
"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"
"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.
"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."
"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"
"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.
"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.
"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"
"He swore at me,"
"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."
"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.
"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."
"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."
"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.
"Wait, what? No."
"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.
"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."
Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.
All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."
"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.
The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.
"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.
"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.
Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.
"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.
He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."
"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."
"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.
"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.
"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.
"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."
"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.
"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.
"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.
"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.
She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.
"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.
"A-Are you sure?" 
"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 
It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 
"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 
"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 
"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Mhm," He hummed. 
"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 
"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 
"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 
He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 
Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.
"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 
"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 
"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.
Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 
"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 
"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 
"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.
She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 
"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."
"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 
"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 
"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."
"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.
"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.
"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"
"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."
"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.
"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.
Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 
Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 
With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.
"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 
"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.
"Why?" She can't help but ask.
He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 
She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 
Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."
. . .
Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 
An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 
"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 
As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.
The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 
Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 
"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.
"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"
She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.
He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 
When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.
His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 
"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.
"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 
He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.
"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 
She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 
"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"
She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 
He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"
She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 
His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."
"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 
Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 
That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 
She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 
Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 
She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 
Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 
The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.
Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.
Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 
Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 
Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 
"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 
"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"
Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"
He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."
"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.
He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 
After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"
Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.
Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 
Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"
She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 
Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"
"A little," She huffed. 
"You're too cute." 
Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.
"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 
"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 
Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"
"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 
"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.
"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 
"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."
She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"
"Been intimate with someone." 
She smiled. 
She really, really liked him.
. . .
For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 
Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.
When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 
In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 
Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 
"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 
She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 
Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.
"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 
"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 
Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 
With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 
It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 
Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 
His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.
Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"
Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 
"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 
"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 
Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.
Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."
Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 
She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 
"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 
"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 
Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.
"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 
"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.
"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 
"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 
"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.
Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 
Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."
Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.
"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 
"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 
"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 
"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 
"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 
"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 
Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 
"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 
"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 
At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.
She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.
"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 
Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.
"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 
Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."
"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 
"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.
"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.
"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"
"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 
"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 
"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 
"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.
psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room
3K notes · View notes
stylessbean · 2 months
Text
Harry Styles Fic Recs: Smut
------------ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍓🍒🍄 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ------------
Hello everyone! Thank you so much for 200 followers! Here is the long-awaited smut fic rec masterlist so I hope y'all enjoy 😏😏
Last Updated: 7/02/2024
Series
Personal by @shawnxstyles
Only Angel by @cupid-styles
Blacking out and breaking hearts (slowburn!) by @dont-call-me-baby-posts
teach me by @freedomfireflies
office neighbours (another slowburn) by @atlafan
baby honey by @narrycherries
One Shots
Wishing you were here tonight is like holding on by @guardarecheluna
private show by @stylesharrys
the long weekend by @gurugirl
tentmate by @purplekiwis
moans and elevator music by @pleasingforharry
manbun by @eveningepiphany
just friends that f*ck by @1800titz
don't stop by @justlemmeadoreyou
the pact by @harryslittlefreakk
intimacy by @goldengalore
rough day by @goldengalore
Y/N and Harry have been on a dry spell, but then they fuck by @jawllines
short straw by @adorebeaa
learn to knock by @eveningepiphany
bound together by @harrysonlylover
overheard by @0nlythrowharrybeaux
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harrysfolklore · 1 month
Text
ring hard launch - blurb
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the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !
gif by @sunkissedlouis <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.
It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.
And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.
Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.
Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.
"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."
"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."
"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.
Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.
"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."
"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"
"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.
"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"
Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.
"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.
"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."
"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."
Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."
You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.
"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.
"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."
"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.
"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.
"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."
"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."
"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.
A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.
"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."
"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."
"Thank god."
By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.
While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.
As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.
"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.
"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."
"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."
1K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 2 months
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daisy (english profrry x TA!yn)
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part one of english profrry is here!!!!!
word count: 6.3k
BIG content warnings: massive, glaring warning for an inappropriate relationship. y/n is a graduate student in this and of legal consenting age, but there's an age gap of four years between her and harry. she is his TA, which means there's a big power imbalance between them. bc this is fic we'll pretend it's romantic and all very consensual but if this is triggering to you in any way, DO NOT READ IT. it's not worth hurting your mental health. also, if anything remotely like this happens in your personal life, IT IS NOT OKAY.
other CWs: small smut scene at the end (m masturbation with descriptions of m receiving oral, slight cum play), y/n alludes to having seasonal depression but it's never outwardly said (just be aware since the descriptions of it could be triggering to some!), a bit of angst but nothing crazy
with all that out of the way, if you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy :) love you all lots!!
masterlist | talk to me
patreon
. . .
Professor Styles is a dick. 
That’s what the entire English department said when it was announced that Y/N would be his newest teaching assistant for the spring semester.
They all sneered at her, throwing what they pretended to be caring warnings her way, claiming that he was impossible to work with and he didn’t even actually need a TA, he just liked picking students to embarrass. With their noses upturned at Y/N but not actually offering any kind of advice, she left the small English building shortly after the Dean unveiled the new schedule for TAs, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and thick, salty tears in her waterline. 
She knows Professor Styles doesn’t have the greatest reputation on campus. She actually actively avoided taking any classes with him throughout the duration of her bachelor’s degree, and even as she chose to stay on to enter her first year of graduate school, she picked any other available professors over him.
He was known for his less-than-personable demeanor and the way he picked apart students’ essays, leaving them questioning their entire life path. Y/N has never felt much insecurity about her career — she’s always wanted to go into English, maybe opting for a small but impactful job in publishing or editing — but having a professional ruin her writing sounded… well, awful. 
In reality, Y/N didn’t have much of a choice when it came to her teaching assistant preferences. She needed a job that wouldn’t take up too much of her time. Her first semester of grad school was difficult and stressful. All of her friends graduated and went on to cool jobs all over the country, while Y/N just stayed in the same apartment. She was homesick for her family and walked through a campus every day that reminded her of a better version of herself — one who had a flourishing social life and excellent grades. Just a few months of working on her masters degree had worn her down. 
Despite the slight dip in her grades from university to graduate school (an expected change, her advisor had explained), she was still recommended as a TA for the English department in the spring. She’d really been gunning after Professor Rooney, a kind, middle-aged woman who had spent years working glamorous jobs in the publishing world. She had connections everywhere and was incredibly sweet, and Y/N knew she would feel comfortable working in her sections for the semester. All winter break, she imagined how wonderful it could be; that maybe it was the huge win she needed after such a shitty fall. 
But Professor Rooney didn’t choose her. Professor Styles did.
Even with a promise of a reasonable stipend contingent on the completion of her TA position, Y/N’s world felt like it came crashing down just a little bit — but she knew better than to complain or blubber on about not getting her way. Instead, she chose to just get through it.
In the final days of winter break, Professor Styles emailed her to meet in his office the day before classes began. He didn’t ask if she was back on campus or if she had a good break. Y/N wanted to resent that, but chose to swallow it down. 
When she got to his small office in the department, she gently knocked on the open door, signaling her arrival. He peered up from whatever book he was hunched over on his deck, straightened his posture, and checked his watch. 
“You’re late.” he said flatly, shutting the paperback with a force she didn’t even know was possible. With furrowed brows, she glanced at the lockscreen on the phone she held. 
“You said 10:30, right? It’s 10:30 now.”
“On time is late,” he muttered, folding his hands on his desk, “Early is on time.”
She swallowed, her lips parting like a guppy. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the seat on the other side of her desk. Quickly, she took it, placing her tote bag at her feet and making a mental reminder to arrive at his classes five minutes early from this point on.
“Right, so you’re my TA, then?”
She nodded, “Yes, for the spring semester.”
He hummed, though she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of approval or discontent. He moved his computer mouse over the surface of the university provided mouse pad, making his computer buzz to life. With an awkward silence settling between them, the sound of the mouse clicking was the only thing that filled the dim office. 
“You just graduated from the English department last spring,” he said, eyes scanning over what she now assumed was her student file, “3.8 GPA. That’s fine.”
She blinked at that, resisting the urge to balk at him. 3.8 was .2 away from a perfect GPA. It was more than fine.
“You didn’t take any classes with me during your time as an undergrad.”
“Um, your sections were always full—”
“I don’t really care what your reasoning is,” he cut her off, continuing to scroll down the screen. A lump formed in her throat but she tried to swallow it down. Nothing sounded more embarrassing than crying in front of Professor Styles. “And now you’re getting your masters in English with a concentration in Feminist Literature. That’s an unusual one. Why?”
She’s surprised he’s bothered to ask her a question, so it takes her a moment to form a cohesive answer on her tongue. She’s flailing a bit and she knows he can tell, based on the unamused expression on his face. 
“I’ve read a lot of literature where there’s a female main character and she’s just used to state a point or some sort of backwards lesson that was considered modernized for the time,” Y/N speaks softly, picking at her nails in her lap, “I’m interested in studying that more.”
“What kind of literature?” Professor Styles instantly fires back. 
“Well, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on The Scarlet Letter, but I’ve also been thinking about basing my graduate capstone on Ophelia from Hamlet.”
He makes that annoying humming noise again, and she’s still unsure if he’s pleased or thinks she’s an idiot. She wasn’t unused to the latter — a lot of snobs in the English department thought it was stupid of her to care for critiquing older pieces of writing from an argumentative, feminist perspective, even if they acted like The Odyssey was an “absolute must-read” for everyone.
(It’s not. Y/N thinks The Odyssey is dumb and boring, but she’ll never say that, especially not to Professor Styles.)
“Right, well,” he lifts a white ceramic coffee cup to his mouth and swallows briefly. She glances down to see he’s drinking hot black coffee, and her lips furl into a quick, involuntary wince. “You’ll be with me three days a week. You are to attend the daily lectures — Mondays and Wednesdays are the shorter section and Friday is the long, three-hour one. Helping out with grading and holding office hours will be your primary tasks. If you fall ill or need to take a day off, I need at least 24 hours notice. If I receive any complaints from students, you’re out. Otherwise, it should be a fine semester. Any questions?”
She shakes her head, hoping he’ll show some inkling of delight at her quick ability to understand and process. Instead, his lips remain in a flat line and he nods, taking another sip of his coffee. 
“You can go now. See you tomorrow.”
She scrambles to leave his office as quickly as possible.
. . .
Professor Styles barely speaks to Y/N for the first few weeks. 
It’s unsettling in a way, especially because she doesn’t know if she’s doing a good job. She thrives off of reassurance, but every time she hands him a neat stack of newly graded papers or drafts, he simply waves her off with an, “alright, thanks.”
If she’s being honest, it makes her want to try even harder, though she’s not entirely sure why. She has the urge to claw her way to the very top of Professor Styles’ repertoire of students and assistants — a need for perfectionism that can only be quelled by the person least likely to give it to her. 
And it’s driving her absolutely insane.
She wants to ask, straight out, “am I doing an alright job? Do you need anything more from me?”, but she’s positive that will only make her glow with insecurity. He’d probably laugh in her face and call her a baby for needing his acceptance.
It eats her alive as she sits at the front of the lecture hall, watching his female students stare at him with hearts in their eyes as he discusses the politics of Ursula Le Guin. It bugs her only more than he's one of the most attractive people she's ever seen, always impeccably dressed with long, ring-clad fingers.
Grumbling, she realizes that she probably looks just as pathetic, so she quickly straightens her posture and runs her fingertips over the mousepad of her laptop so it glows back to life. She’s supposed to be going over the grades of the students’ first essays — her and Professor Styles were meeting after class to discuss them in the event that anyone needed additional assistance for the upcoming paper.
She busies herself with that until he ends class, creating a list of a few names that would potentially need to be met with one-on-one. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers his own materials from the lecture, and she follows him out of the hall and to his office just as silently, carrying her laptop in one hand and her tote bag on her shoulder. 
Professor Styles’ office is always cold and dark, never failing to send a shiver down her spine when he unlocks the door. Today, her shoulders shudder involuntarily and she pushes her sweater sleeves down to cover her hands. With a rumple in his eyebrows, he sits down. 
“What’s the matter?” he asks. 
Y/N snaps her head up in surprise. She doesn’t mean to look shocked, so she quickly revises her facial features in an attempt to look collected. 
“Oh, it’s just cold,” she says, waving him off nonchalantly, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah. I think this winter has been especially brutal.” 
His reply especially dazes her — she’s unsure if that’s an attempt at making small talk, something Professor Styles has never done with her before, but she instantly nods her head, as if she’s speaking with a toddler who’s expressing their emotions for the first time. 
“Yeah, I think so,” she says softly, “The snow is awful to walk through.”
“Do you live far from campus?”
She shakes her head and sets her laptop and planner on her side of the desk, across from Professor Styles and his things. 
“No, just a 10 minute walk or so, but I don’t have a car.”
He hums at that — that stupid, unassuming hum that contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation. She wonders if she’s in her head about it, but she feels his eyes linger just a beat longer on her face before tearing them away. He licks over his teeth as he taps on his laptop to wake it back up. 
“Right, then. Did you go over their grades?”
As she pulls her things out from her bag, she tries to ignore the small pit of disappointment in her tummy from Professor Styles shifting their conversation back over to class. 
. . .
That weekend, Y/N thinks she’s hallucinating as she meanders up and down the aisles at Target. 
She’s not really looking for anything in particular. Sometimes she just comes here for something to do. Her bank account isn't exactly flowing in a way that permits her to buy all the cute home decor she gazes at, which is why her basket currently consists of the following: pads, a new pack of her favorite gel pens, cookie dough, and a lip balm that she’ll probably put back before she checks out. 
It’s another harsh, cold day out, the freezing temperatures refusing to let up as the days of the month flit by. This is Y/N’s least favorite time of year — when winter sticks around despite the holidays being long gone. All that’s left between now and spring is pesky snow and fake Hallmark holidays, and she yearns for the days where she can walk to campus and admire the tulips peeking out from the damp soil. By then, she’ll be closer to returning to her hometown for the summer, where she’ll likely get a job for a few months working in the local library or bookstore.
It’ll be good — she’ll get to see her friends and spend time with family and save up some money, and maybe the hopefulness of life warming up in a few months will be enough to get her through this semester.
And as she’s daydreaming of brighter days, that’s when it happens — when she thinks she must be fully hallucinating, because as she strolls down one aisle in particular, Professor Styles is standing there, his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he stares at space heaters. 
She’s never seen him off campus. Sometimes that happens since a lot of professors live close by, so it’s not unheard of to pass by an advisor or faculty member at the supermarket or through the park. But seeing Professor Styles here feels… illegal, somehow, especially given his casual, dressed down attire. He’s wearing what looks to be a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts, despite the temperature nearing the 20s today. (Y/N is bundled up in three sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and leggings beneath her jeans.) White socks go just above his ankles, and the running shoes on his feet make her wonder if he’s insane enough to actually be working out in this weather. 
She must be analyzing his form for a beat too long — maybe it’s the shock from it that still hasn’t worn off — because he feels her gaze, eyes veering to his peripheral, realizing that his teaching assistant is standing there as if she’s waiting for permission to enter the aisle. 
“Hey,” she blurts out when she realizes she’s been caught. 
Confused by her frank, laidback greeting, he lifts his head to face her. “Hey.” he echoes awkwardly.
“Um, sorry.”
He quirks an eyebrow and Y/N’s body heats with embarrassment. “Sorry?”
“Sorry… I-I should’ve just walked away when I saw you,” Y/N quickly attempts to revise, but she realizes it’s just making her sound stupider, “I was just surprised to see you here.”
“In a public store?”
“Right,” she nods curtly, turning on her heel, “Have a good rest of your weekend—”
“Wait, did you need something down here?” he rushes out, almost as if he’s fearful she’ll leave. She pushes the thought down but parts her lips nervously, eyes scanning over the contents on the shelves. She doesn’t need anything, she was just putting off having to brave the cold weather on her walk home.
“Yes,” she says slowly because, once again, she’s suddenly stupefied and enamored by the prospect of small talk with Professor Styles, “I needed… lighters. For my candles.”
He nods, a quiet “ah,” sounding from his lips, and they stand there like they’re doing some sort of parallel play; Y/N pretending to look at the long, safety lighters while Professor Styles continues to look at space heaters. She wonders if he for some reason is pretending, too, but then he’ll squat down to look at the features on one box, making a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, and straighten back up to analyze a different model.
When he finally decides on an option that’s best fit, he grabs the box and places it in his cart. Quickly, Y/N plucks a random display of lighters and throws them in her basket.
“Hope you found a good one,” she mutters out dumbly, feeling the need to interject one last sentence into their silence. He glances down at his cart, then at her basket, and then, finally, at her. 
“It’s for the office,” he says. “You said it was cold.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“This should help with that.”
“Sure, yeah. I have one at home, it helps a lot with the draftiness.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Maybe you can get an extra lamp in there, too. Spruce it up a bit.”
A wrinkle forms between his brows, “What do you mean?”
Y/N wishes the ground would swallow her up whole.
“Nothing! I just meant— like, sometimes it’s a bit cold, and with the weather, it can get dark, too. The winter’s tough, don’t you think? That’s all I meant, I’m sorry—”
“No, you’re right,” he says with a decisive nod. “You’re the only other person that really spends time there besides students. Do you want to help pick one out?”
“Sure, okay.”
They walk in silence to the lighting display, which is filled with a myriad of different options. Professor Styles looks semi-overwhelmed by it all and Y/N has to bite her lip so she doesn’t smile too widely at his confused expression. She points to a simple, inexpensive standing lamp.
“I think something like this would be good, in the corner or something. Just for some extra brightness.”
“Is that the one you like?”
Y/N doesn’t have strong lamp preferences, especially when it comes to a space that she’s not even living in, but for some reason, it seems important that she says yes. So she nods her head, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and she realizes that’s the first time he’s ever smiled at her. 
“Okay. I’ll have this stuff set up for when you come in on Monday.”
She swallows, feeling the mountain of adoration in her stomach grow. She shoves it down. 
“Thank you, that’s really kind of you,” she says.
“Sure. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend.”
She hides in the lamp aisle for another 15 minutes, until she’s positive he’s left the store. 
. . .
Professor Styles and Y/N are working in their typical silence when he says something that makes her jaw nearly drop to the floor.
She thought that after their short but personable interaction at the store, things would change a bit. Maybe he would feel more comfortable talking to her outside of monotone grunts or the occasional “are they failing my class?”, but things remained the same. When she came in that Monday, the space heater and lamp were both on and running as he promised, but it was as if nothing happened. 
It irks Y/N to no end.
She assumes that he sincerely doesn’t care for her, which she supposes is fine considering kindness or approval aren’t part of the job description. That’s why she’s shocked when he says it a few weeks after the weekend they saw one another in public. 
“I think you should ask to change your advisor to me.”
Y/N chokes on her spit, hurriedly coughing into her hand so she doesn’t spray saliva all over his desk. Once she recovers, he’s staring at her expectedly, as if what he said was completely and utterly sane. 
“Sorry?” she asks, “Why would I do that?”
She doesn’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s a genuine question. Typically, there’s some type of rapport between a grad student and their advisor, and she and Professor Styles have absolutely none of that. 
Professor Styles clears his throat and folds his hands on his desk. “Because I got my masters degree in the same thing, so I spent four years studying exactly what you’re studying. I think you’ve been doing very well as my TA and I would like to advise you.”
“Why would you ask me why I was studying that, then?” she blurts out, confusion apparent on her face. “The first day we met, you told me it was unusual.”
“It is.”
“But you studied it.”
“I did.”
“So why would you say that?”
Professor Styles sighs as if this is the most boring and obvious conversation he’s had all day. 
“I wanted to hear you defend it. See why you’re interested and make sure it’s not all bullshit.”
Y/N shakes her head, “So you were playing some kind of mind game with me? For fun?”
“It wasn’t a mind game, Y/N. I just wanted to know why you’re interested in it.”
She bites her lip and looks down at her laptop screen, which has since gone dim since they began talking. If she’s being truthful, she’s grown tired of Professor Styles. Up until now, she was positive she was doing things wrong and he just didn’t care enough to correct her — only to find out that he wanted to work with her even more. It made zero sense.
“Are you going to do it, then?” he asks, tearing her from her thoughts. Her expression pinches as she rolls her lips into a thin line. 
“I don’t know.” she answers in a watery voice. “I like my advisor, and I assumed you didn’t like me very much.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”
“You barely utter three words to me on a daily basis and never tell me if you’re happy with my work.”
Professor Styles scoffs, leaning back against his leather computer chair. 
“You need regular approval from me to know whether or not I like you?”
“Yes,” she admits, anger building in her chest until she can’t help but blurt out what she’s thinking, “It’s how I work. If you were a good professor, you would’ve asked how I best function at the beginning of the semester. Instead, you ignore me for fun.”
“You don’t think I’m a good professor.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that. I think you are. I just don’t think you’re the best at managing teaching assistants.”
He shrugs, but she notices a slight wince in his features. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we?”
“Right,” she mumbles, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. When he doesn’t reply, she shuts her laptop and stuffs it in her bag. “I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you next week.”
He’s silent as she gets her things together and pulls her jacket on, wrapping her scarf around her neck and zipping it on top of her sweater for extra warmth. As her boots carry her across the length of his office and to the door, he stands from his seat. 
“Y/N,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “The deadline to change your advisor is next Friday. I hope you’ll still consider it.”
. . .
That evening, all Harry can think about is his sweet, quiet TA. The one who he undoubtedly offended earlier today — he cringes at the thought of it, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. He can’t stop thinking about the upset look on her face. When she asked if he was playing mind games with her, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He never meant to hurt her, not one bit. 
He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He’s had reruns of some shitty sitcom on since he got home from work a few hours ago. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but even a laugh track and ‘90s era merriment couldn’t distract him from thinking about her. 
He considers the things she said about wanting his approval. He’s never been well-liked in the English department, likely because of his rough exterior. He’s not immune to the things he hears from students and faculty, about how he’s grumpy and someone to be feared, even if he didn’t even intend to come off that way. In all honesty, he never wanted to be perceived in that matter — but once his reputation began to precede him a year or two ago, he figured there was no use in trying to convince people otherwise. 
That's how it had always gone, anyway — in high school, when he started experimenting with different styles of clothing, everyone assumed he was gay. He'd desperately tried to refute those claims, even if he wasn't completely sure of his sexuality himself. But no one cared — they'd already made up their minds, and it seemed useless to attempt to change their ways of thinking.
And when people spoke here, mumbling about how mean and terrible he was... well, what was the point?
Y/N was the only person he cared to win over, and it was eating him alive.
So much so that he made the blind decision to maybe, possibly cross a very clear boundary between professor and TA. Despite Y/N being of legal, consenting age (after looking at her student file, he found that he’s only four years older), he still attempted to prioritize maintaining a professional relationship with every one of his students and TAs. 
He couldn’t help himself with her, though. He knew it was bad — he could feel his heart thumping quickly in his chest, the logical part of his brain telling him to stop while he’s ahead, but he couldn’t. Not as he grabbed his laptop, logged into his work email, and composed a message to her student address. Not when his fingers danced over the keyboard and resisted the urge to implore her to start fresh with him. Not when he clicked ‘send’ without even proofreading to make sure it sounded appropriate, not creepy or weird.
He pushed his laptop away and got up to pour himself some wine, attempting to rid himself of any lingering guilt.
. . .
Subject: Today
Time: 9:57 p.m.
Hi Y/N, 
I wanted to apologize for how I acted today. It wasn’t kind of me and you deserve far better than that. I understand if you have no interest in changing your advisor. Please know that whatever you decide, your TA position will not be in danger, should you choose to continue working with me.
Thank you for all of your hard work. You’ve been doing an excellent job and I’ve very much enjoyed having you this semester. Have a good weekend.
x Harry Styles
. . .
On Monday, Y/N’s mind is whirring. 
It’s not because the semester is nearing midterm season, although that’s part of it. It’s because Professor Styles emailed her an apology at almost 10 pm on Friday evening, and she’s repeatedly read it over at least 50 times since receiving it. 
She didn’t reply because she wasn’t sure what to say — and, most shockingly, he didn’t sign it as Professor Styles. Instead, he ended the message with a kiss, for crying out loud, followed by his name. His name! 
It’s all she’s been able to focus on for days, to the point where she contemplates not showing up to his lecture on Monday. But she’s better than that — she’s stronger, and she’s smarter, and she doesn’t want to hide. 
She avoids Professor Styles’ gaze all throughout his lecture, instead focusing on grading first drafts for the class’ midterm paper. She knows she’ll have to sit with him in his office afterwards, and her stomach churns at the thought. In some way, she feels ashamed that she said anything to begin with. Her comments about him not managing TAs properly have made her shrivel into a mortified version of herself, and she’s shocked he didn’t fire her on the spot. 
Worst of all, she hates the way her heart jumped into her throat when his name popped up on her screen on Friday night. She craved the feeling, hoping he would, for some reason, do it again, even though she never responded. She wasn’t playing hard to get by any means, but the fact that her brain even veered in that direction proved one thing to be true: she has a big, fat crush on Professor Styles.
The knowledge sits like a rock in her stomach, especially as they walk in silence to his office after class. The air between them feels awkward, but she’s not sure that there’s ever been a time where it hasn’t felt odd between them. When he unlocks the door, she quietly steps inside, her heart skipping a beat at the space heater and lamp already turned on. 
Usually, he keeps the door open while they work. Today, he shuts it, the soft click of the lock making her jump. 
“Can we talk?”
Y/N’s throat dries but she nods, gripping the strap of her tote bag close to her arm. She turns to face him, and for the first time ever, she notices that he looks… nervous.
“About last week. I’m sorry, but I’m even more sorry for emailing you that on Friday,” he rushes the words out like he wrote a script out and was waiting to perform them, “It was completely inappropriate, and I got the hint when you didn’t reply.”
“The hint?” she peeps out, her voice squeaky and embarrassing. 
“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “About not wanting me to advise you and… you probably found my email to be weird, right?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. “No, no. I.. I actually haven’t given much thought to the advisor thing, but I didn’t think it was weird. I just didn’t know how to respond.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that?”
“Because I felt guilty about what I said to begin with! A-and you could’ve fired me if you wanted to, but instead you apologized and said that I’m doing a good job—”
“You are.”
“Exactly!” she exclaims frustratedly. “I didn’t know how to respond to that.”
“To me being… kind?”
“Yes.”
He blinks at her, the crinkle between his brows deepening. 
“I’m just not used to it, Professor Styles.” she says with a sigh.
“Harry,” he corrects.
“What?”
“My name is Harry. I don’t want you to call me Professor Styles.”
Y/N ignores the quickening of her heartbeat and shifts her stance from foot to foot. 
“Why are you doing this?” she eventually blurts as she crosses her arms over her sweater-clad form. She’s not sure if she detects an inkling of pity in his face, but if she does, she wants nothing more than to run for the hills and never return. For some reason, the thought of Professor— Harry feeling bad for her makes her shoulders shudder, a prickly sensation tip-toeing down her spine, as if shame is completely and utterly eating her alive. 
His lips part in a quiet sigh. “I just… I spent the weekend thinking of you and feeling awful for the way I’ve treated you.”
Thinking of you.
I spent the weekend thinking of you.
Her stomach turns as his words echo throughout the chambers of her brain. But then there’s a click — like the second part of the sentence just ekes its way through, planting a seed of self-doubt and insecurity. And she backs away like he may explode at any moment. 
“You shouldn’t— no, that’s alright,” she shakes her head, gaze set low on the carpeted floors of his tiny office. 
“Y/N—”
Again, she cuts him off with a shake of her head, raising her eyes to look at him. His expression is pained and she wonders if hers is any better, though she assumes for different reasons: He doesn’t want to get fired for torturing another grad student. She has an inappropriate crush on the professor she works for.
“It’s all good. Call it even?” she rushes out, leaning over to grab her things from her chair, “Fresh start on Wednesday. Don’t mention it again, alright?”
She’s gone before he can stop her. 
. . .
Harry accidentally falls asleep in his office that evening. 
It’s half because he’s absolutely swamped with work, too fearful to email Y/N and add things to her grading pile after the way she all but ran away earlier today. He’s terrified he made her uncomfortable. 
He doesn’t want to return to the quiet loneliness of his apartment, where he’s constantly faced to force the reality of his life: A man in his early 30s with a job that he likes, but no one actually likes him at it. His entire family resides in London and with the exception of a few friends from his schooling years, he’s alone. Especially in the romance department.
His heart aches for Y/N. He realizes it’s a bit dramatic, even slightly taboo given the nature of their professional relationship, but he likes her. He likes her so much that he doesn’t want to go home and think about how badly he messed things up, so he falls asleep face-down on his desk, his cranium wedged between piles of pens and a Post-It list of to-do’s. 
When he wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for. The soft, golden light from the lamp is still just barely bathing the circumference of the room, but as he blinks his eyes open, he realizes that it’s silent. He can see through the small frosted window that the hallways are dim, which means it’s most definitely sometime in the evening. 
He feels… somewhat guilty but charged as he wakes from the fog of his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches his arms out. His neck already aches from the discomfort of his sleeping position and he groans, lifting a palm to sort the knot out. 
And that’s when he realizes it — why he feels as if his body is buzzing, his hands sweaty and his throat dry. He’d woken up in the middle of a sex dream and, like a pathetic teenager, the star of it had been his crush. Y/N. 
He scoffs to himself as he glances down at his crotch where, sure enough, his length is painfully hard beneath the constriction of his trousers and underwear. He swallows, eyes flickering closed. He can remember the exact details of his dream, even if they send a bead of guilt dripping down his chest — they’d been in his office, just like this. She was between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet of the floor, her eyes rounded and expectant as he toyed with her, pretending to guide his cock between her lips only to take it away at the last minute. She pouted every time, a plushy lipped-frown punctuating the words he hadn’t even realized he’d been dying to hear: “Please Professor Styles, stop teasing me.”
At the realization, he’s sent into a frenzy. He doesn’t even think to check whether the door is locked (or maybe if he’s locked in the building, no less), before he’s clawing at his belt and zipper, yanking the fabrics down to reveal a pair of swollen balls. His length stands hard, his eyes nearly rolling back just from the feeling of looping his fingers around the base. He can’t remember the last time he was this pent up just from his own imagination, but it’s not a difficult place to return — not as his head leans back against his office chair, allowing his dream to pick up and take form in full consciousness. 
So much pre-cum is bubbling at the tip that he doesn’t need much of his own spit to lubricate himself. He bites his lip hard to prevent himself from groaning out too loudly, envisioning the way she’d finally suckle around the tip of his cock, looking up at him with proud eyes. He’d gradually help her go deeper, but she’d be excited, willing to bruise her throat for him. She was so good — in his dreams, in real life, she was always so, so good.
“So good, Professor,” she’d pant out, popping off to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. With spit-swollen lips, she’d venture down to his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hands before taking each one into her mouth. In reality, he gasps at that, tugging them in his own hand. 
But what really gets him there is an impossible thought — one that has nothing to do with the silly wet dream his brain conjured while he slept. Her in her own bedroom, her naked form wrapped up in her sheets while he gazed over lovingly, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder and down her arm. She’d giggle breathily before flipping onto her side to face him. And she’d say it — I love you — and it’d feel like heaven. 
That’s what pushes him to finish all over his hand, cum dribbling over his fist as he pants and gasps like he’s just discovered masturbation. His orgasm encompasses his entire body, a few beautiful, peaceful moments of complete pleasure that causes all of his muscles to tighten deliciously. Of course, he envisions her taking all of his cum, licking it up eagerly over his digits, making a show of it — she’d open her mouth, pretty pink tongue out, and he’d watch as she swallows. He shudders at the thought of it, quickly snapping his eyes open and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to clean himself up. He’s immediately back to his grumbly state as he does, irritated that he allowed himself to lose control in such a finite way.
He tosses the dirty tissue in the garbage can and stands up to tug his briefs and pants back up. The clink of his belt buckle is the only sound throughout the small room, so he jumps when a knock sounds on the other side of his closed door. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, someone knows, I must have said her name, I’m such a fucking freak—
His eyes widen when the person speaks: “Profess— Harry? Are you in there? It’s Y/N.”
2K notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 1 month
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notes on love
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas
pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader
word count - ~1.5k
*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*
It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.
Sans a hat on his head.
After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.
“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.
Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.
“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”
You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.
“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”
“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”
Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.
“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”
“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”
“Never needed it.”
You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.
“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.
“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”
“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”
You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.
Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.
“You’re going to look so pretty.”
Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.
“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.
“Why, love?”
“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.
Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”
It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.
You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.
“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.
“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”
“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.
“Have you got your ring?”
You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.
“Always.”
“You going to wear it on the carpet?”
“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”
Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.
Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.
“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”
“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”
Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.
“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.
You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.
Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.
You pouted because you missed him a lot.
People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.
“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.
Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.
“I know.” You smiled to yourself.
“He looks like a sexy CEO.”
You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.
“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.
“Yeah, hang on..”
You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.
You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.
“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”
You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.
You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.
And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.
harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go
It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.
Then the face-time call comes through from him.
“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.
He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.
You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.
“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.
“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.
“Has the match finished?”
“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”
Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.
One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.
“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.
“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”
You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.
“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”
“True, true.”
“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.
“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.
“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.
“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”
You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.
You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.
You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.
“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”
“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.
“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”
“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.
Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.
978 notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 4 months
Text
Jarofstyles Fic Rec 2023 🪽
hello my loves! Here is our updated fic rec.
[some may be repeats of last year because we reread them!]
Also check out our fic rec account, @jarofstylesrecs for some we most definitely missed!
There are so many I want to put on here and I’ll update it again, but here we are! Let me know of any fics you recommend 🩷
WATTPAD-
Bambi- vanillasoy (or @queenofgraveyards here) (ceo soft H, in my top 5)
Flower- vanillasoy (bodyguard/grumpy h x sunshine ofc)
Devil’s Due- petite_cerise (classic dark!H)
Adonis- temptress_ (dark!H and fierce OFC)
Valhalla- temptress_ (Viking!H)
Baby Blue- theasstour (artist!H and model y/n)
Lucky Penny- alisonfelix (teacher h, soft, ofc finding herself)
Informed Consent- alisonfelix (college romance, absolutely tooth rotting fluff I’m obsessed)
One Night Stand- alisonfelix (short story, pregnancy one night stand plot. A lil angsty but cute)
Ladybug- _screamingcolour (50’s au, super cute)
Pirouette- _screamingcolour (ballerina ofc, so fucking cute it hurts)
Flower Girl- sushirrrry (idk how to describe but chef’s kiss)
Celestial- sushirrrry (WIP, it hurts but it feels good, nerdy h who loves the stars)
Wildflowers- latenightgab (assholeish tattoorry, single dad)
Jezebel- latenightgab (sugar daddy ceo x dancer teacher)
Office Hours- latenightgab (lawyer and professor H x student)
Pink Slip- stillhurtingstyles (plus size! Assistant y/n x boss h)
Always - styleslegend (my OG favorite fic, nerdy h x popular y/n, old but good)
A Lifetime With You- anenglishbird (supernatural au, witchy, adore it)
Inclination- peanutboyfriend (sexuality discovery, so good)
Aerial- peanutboyfriend (aerialist h and ofc, 60’s set, another top 10 fic)
1789- everlasts (period piece, just read it. French Revolution)
Breaking The Ice- sarbearfive (hockey!H)
Sail My Ridges- @1800titz (new but soooo fucking good. Piraterry, writing is phenomenal as usual)
The Devil is a Gentleman- @1800titz (again, writing is incredible. Kink heavy, lovely, bdsm club, masks, real estate agent H- just please read it)
Sinners Place- @shroombloomm (so fucking good, preistrry, all the good drama, 10/10)
Do I Wanna Know? - @eatyourhoneyh (trust me, stripper ofc. Obsessed)
Boston- witchysunflower (hockey h, cheating plot)
Haste- htownrry (pregnancy plot but unconventional, racer h, very good)
TUMBLR-
Prosecco- @moonchildstyles (older!H)
Gravity- @moonchildstyles (camboyrry)
Aster- @moonchildstyles (tattoorry grumpy sunshine)
Èlan- @moonchildstyles (bodyguardrry that pulled my heart strings)
firemanrry- @jawllines (softest H, made of sugar and the little puppy :( )
Ballerinarry- @jawllines (enemies to lovers, obsessed)
Young American- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (tattoo artists h and y/n, so well written)
Wolves- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (Wolfrry!!!)
A Good Fit- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (trust me, read)
LVRS CLUB- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (sex club slay)
Best Friend’s Dadrry- @gurugirl (exactly what it says. So good)
The Arrangement- @gurugirl (sugar daddy h!)
The Ex- @gurugirl (trusf me again)
The whole Knockout series- @freedomfireflies (yall don’t even know how feral this series makes me…)
404- @freedomfireflies (again obsessed, nerdy enemies chefs kiss)
Silk and Rope- @cupid-styles (dom/sub dynamic, so soft)
Only Angel- @cupid-styles (tattorry, experienced h, shy y/n)
Complicated Freak- @lukesaprince (best friends Dadrry is a weakness)
Rich- @lukesaprince (older! H, age gap,)
Mutually Beneficial - @cherryjuiceblues (Dom/sub dynamics, perfection!)
Could You Live With Just a Taste- @frioamor (Dom/sub, smut is mind blowing)
Love’s Divine- @atlafan (nanny!h omg)
Peaches & Cream- @atlafan (anything they write tbh)
You’re Someone I Just Want Around- @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy & @sunflowervolvimp3 (I put this every year bc I reread it every single year. I’m obsessed. My Roman Empire. I’ve never heard ‘like real people do’ the same since.)
Please You- @adorebeaa (again just trust me)?
Wolfrry- @adorebeaa (please I’m obsessed w this and the smut is incredible)
The Dark King- @shroombloomm (so so so so so good, dark obviously but I love it)
Achilles Heel- @angelisverba (I’m obsessed w their writing and plugrry but this smut is mind blowing)
1K notes · View notes
gucciwins · 4 months
Text
Y/N just wants Harry to like her.
Word count: 5964
A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.
Now happy reading! I love you
+
Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.
Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 
She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 
There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 
Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 
Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 
Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 
Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 
Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 
Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 
The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.
 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 
Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.
Bowling. Too loud. 
It seems there was an excuse for everything.
Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.
The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 
They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  
Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 
“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 
No answer. 
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 
He fidgets with his fork. 
“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 
Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 
“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 
Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 
With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 
One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 
“Any good?”
Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 
Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 
He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”
Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 
The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 
“What’s this one about?”
“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 
Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 
“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 
“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.
Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 
“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”
He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 
“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”
+
Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.
“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 
Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 
“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 
“Where to?” He asks curiously. 
She silently cheers, “Iceland.”
“Is that your dog?” 
“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”
“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 
Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”
Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”
Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 
Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”
He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.
+
September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.
It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 
“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 
“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 
Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.
“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”
“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.
Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 
Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 
The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 
Enjoy - HS
Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 
“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 
Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 
“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 
Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 
“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 
“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 
Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 
Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 
“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 
“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 
“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 
After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 
“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.
“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”
Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 
“It can just be too much sometimes.”
“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 
“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 
“See you in a bit then.”
+
Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 
Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 
Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.
“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 
Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 
Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”
He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 
“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.
“Everyone is going?”
“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”
Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”
“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 
“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.
Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 
“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”
She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 
+
The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 
Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.
It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.
“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.
“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 
Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 
Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 
Harry likes Y/N.
It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 
“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 
“I did,” he answers. 
“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 
Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 
“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 
Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”
He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”
Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”
Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 
Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 
“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 
“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.
“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 
“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 
They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 
“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.
Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 
“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 
“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”
The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.
Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 
Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 
“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.
She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 
“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 
They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.
“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 
And so they continue on. 
The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 
While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 
Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 
To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 
“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 
“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 
“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 
“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 
“Hozier.” 
“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 
“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 
“As do you.” 
The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 
Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.
As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.
“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 
“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 
Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 
Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 
Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 
“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 
He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 
“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”
“By all means, lead the way.” 
After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 
The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 
“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 
Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 
Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 
Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 
He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.
“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 
“Let me walk you up.” 
Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 
“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 
“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 
“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.
Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 
She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”
Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.
She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 
“Ask me,” he pleads. 
“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 
Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 
She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 
When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 
Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.
“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 
“Too far.
Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 
“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 
“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 
Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 
Harry can’t say no.
+
Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 
“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 
“Morning,” he answers timidly. 
Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 
Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”
“A date?” He echoes. 
“With me,” she giggles.
“Best thing I've heard all day.”
Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 
“How does this weekend sound?” 
“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 
“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 
“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 
“Yes, love?” 
Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 
Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 
Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.
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smuttyaf · 2 months
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The Business
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚.
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞/𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐝𝐬𝐦. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬:
his life is starting to affect you.
𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛:
the story about how you meet.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭:
harry shows you what he does for work.
𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐫. 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 )
harry introduces bdsm.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦
secrets cut wounds into the relationship.
𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞
you’re compelled to adapt to his lifestyle.
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ifancyharry · 6 months
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what it is: YN is Harry’s personal assistant and she gets sick, but he’s playing Wembley
word count: 4k
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The air is crisp and clean as YN steps out of her hotel into the streets of London, hurrying down the sidewalk as she scurries to the first pharmacy she can find. 
It’s 7.54 in the morning and she’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours. Not on purpose, obviously. And not on her boss’s orders either, despite having there been nights the team deemed important and she was required to pull an all nighter, but those were usually times of celebrations, either spent at an afterparty or waiting until midnight for Spotify to release the album everyone had been working hard on.
The air hurts her lungs as she stops to catch her breathing, the pounding behind her temples not dimming the slightest as she trespasses the sliding doors of the pharmacy, only intensifying with the bright artificial lights shining down on her from the ceiling.
She pulls her sunglasses out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and slides them over her eyes, relishing in the temporary relief washing over her sensitive eyes.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she pulls it out, grimacing at the name on the screen; it’s her boss, Harry, asking her what time she’s ready to leave for the venue. 
Once her turn comes, she quickly explains her symptoms to the pharmacist and just as quickly she pays for the medicine the pharmacist has taken out for her.
She walks out of the pharmacy and types back a short response to Harry, telling him she’s on her way to his room.
She hopes the medicine she has stuffed in her pocket will make her feel better, and she thinks as she’s making her way back to the hotel that she’ll ask Harry to stop along the way to grab a coffee, hoping it will soothe the tension behind her temples. There’s no way she can be sick when her boss is playing at Wembley for the first time.
Harry isn’t one to comment on other people’s appearances, his mum taught him that and it has stuck with him since he was a little kid, a sort of an unspoken rule out of kindness, and therefore he’s never asked if someone was sick because they weren’t wearing makeup or if someone had eaten a little more over the holidays.  He never considered other people’s looks something that concerned his range of business, but once he sees YN, he can’t help but wonder if she’s okay.
Her hair is tied in a messy braid, and there’s some strands falling out of it and in front of her eyes. She’s wearing a big love on tour sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, but that isn’t particularly concerning, because he’s used to her comfy articles of clothing. 
What’s concerning is her face… and Harry already feels bad for thinking that, but she doesn’t look like herself. And Harry would know. Of course he would know, because he spends a lot of time looking at her face, especially when she’s not looking, most of the times when she’s reading a book next to him in a moment of rest or when she’s answering emails on Monday mornings. So… he knows her. He knows her skin looks paler than normal, and the circles under her eyes aren’t the same as that one time they partied all night after Harry won album of the year at the Grammys.
He wants to ask if she’s okay, because after a year of working together they have that kind of confidence, but he doesn’t want that to be the first thing he says to her, so he just smiles at her and welcomes her with a side hug and a good morning.
“Hi” she’s quick to greet back, and Harry notices even her voice sounds scruffier than usual.
“Are you ready to go?” She asks a second later.
“Yeah, yeah, the car’s down already?” He asks surprised. Sometimes it takes a while before the drivers find the hotel, and YN and Harry spend that time watching videos on youtube or talking about the day’s schedule.
YN shrugs but doesn’t say anything in response, which is weird to Harry because she’s usually really bright and energetic in the morning, and she’s really meticulous on top of everything: she never lets him wait without finding something to pass the time first.
“Let’s just stay until we don’t know for certain” he suggests.
She agrees with a nod of her head and she heads to his bed, sitting down on the end of it. It’s not uncommon for her, because she’s always in his space, and there have been times where they were forced to basically sleep in the same bed (one time YN fell asleep on his bed, and Harry was so in his song-writing-bubble he didn’t even realize until he was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open, so he slipped in next to her and literally passed out).
He still needs to tie his shoes, so he sits next to her and ties the laces of his ratted vans.
“How’d yeh sleep, pet?” He asks, because she’s freakishly quiet and it’s making him anxious. She’s never quiet, and with this being a stressful day already for Harry, every little thing that’s different from normal alerts him.
“Fine” she whispers, knuckling at her eyes, his question bringing back the awful memory of the night she spent tossing and turning in the scratchy hotel sheets, praying for a moment of solace every time she tried to breathe through her nose and failing.
“Me too…” he nods.
YN feels bad because she should be more engaging, but she really doesn’t have it in her to make small talk. 
Some time passes before the driver calls YN’s phone to tell her the van is here, shaking her awake. She remembers closing her eyes to rest them, and next thing she knows she’s sound asleep on her boss’s bed. She’d be a bit embarrassed if it wasn’t for how awful she feels already. 
“Crap! I fell asleep!” She exclaims once she hangs up the call. 
“Yeah” Harry says from next to her, still laying on his bed, “just fo’ like… fifteen minutes though” He’s playing on his phone, and YN pushes at his bicep, “we need to go, driver’s here”
She gets up from the bed and slips on her shoes, grabbing her work bag (it’s really a tote bag but she finds calling it work bag makes her waaaay more professional) from the floor next to the door.
“YN” she hears Harry clear his voice, and she turns around to look at him.
He’s still sitting on the bed, and he passes a hand through his hair before saying, “are yeh all right?” 
She closes her eyes in a furrow and tries not to wince when a sharp pain shoots behind her eyes with the movement, “yes, yes” she stresses, although not convinced.
“Are you sure? C’mon yeh can tell me!” 
“I’m fine, Harry” and despite her words, she sniffles, “maybe I have a cold or something…”
“You can take the day off if you need to, yeh know that” 
“No, there’s no way” she shakes her head swiftly, “no”. 
“YN…” he trails off.
“Harry, I told you I’m fine. I can work! Let’s just go, okay?” 
He sighs but does as she says, following her out of his room.
Harry isn’t a worrier. If someone from his team, or band whatsoever, says they can work, he at least presumes they’re mature enough to know the expanse of their limits. 
With YN, it’s different. He worries.
Not because he considers her immature, but she’s just… different. Ever since she started working for him as his assistant, he’s always looked out for her, despite being the one that didn’t want to hire her in the first place.
She’s young, she works a lot to prove herself to him, despite him telling her lots of times she doesn’t need to prove anything and she’s doing a great job as she is. 
She does unthinkable working hours, sometimes pulling all nighters, other times hurrying to his house in the middle of the night because he’s a little bit of a hypochondriac and she needs to check immediately what’s that new mole he has on his back (turns out it was a speck of dark chocolate that stuck onto his skin).
She’s soft and she always puts her job (him, actually) first, so he doesn’t really trust her to know her limits. If she’s sick she should rest. She should lay in bed and maybe eat a little soup and watch comfort movies tucked under the sheets, but he knows she won’t. And he knows he’s the reason behind that, because he’s playing at Wembley tonight, and she doesn’t want to cause trouble. Harry thinks she in no way could ever be described as trouble. 
And maybe, and he feels a little bit scared to admit this, he could postpone the show just by a couple hours, at least until he knows she’s resting at the hotel. but, she hurries into the van and pretends like she’s just got “a cold or something”, so Harry doesn’t question her further. 
He could just order her to take the day off, but he knows that would hurt her feelings, and he can imagine the look on her face, like a puppy being scolded, so he bites his tongue: there’s no way he could ever hurt her feelings.
YN has to stop a couple of times when she starts feeling dizzy on her feet. She shouldn’t run this much when she’s probably feverish, but there’s so much to do! She doesn’t trust to delegate, and not because she’s pretentious, but because she’s a control freak that needs to know how things are being handled, so she would only get much more frustrated and it would eventually just end up in her doing all the work anyway, increasing her fever undoubtedly. 
So, she chugs downs a lot of water and a lot of ibuprofen, taking deep breaths every time she starts feeling nauseous. She should probably inform Harry at least that she doesn’t feel good, so if anything were to happen he wouldn’t be too surprised, but she knows how he is; he would demand she stop immediately and go back to the hotel to rest, and she can’t allow that to happen. 
Wembley is the dream of a lifetime, and Harry sound checks every song two times before passing on to the next one. YN sits quietly in one of the seats, preparing Harry’s next instagram post on her phone. She handles all of his socials, because that’s what she was originally hired for. “A young set of eyes”, Jeff had defined her, and from then, her life had changed completely. 
Of course, she wasn’t aware she’d develop a crush on her boss at the time she was hired. She figured she’d be immune to his charm; she’s younger than him, much less experienced (in every aspect of her life), and hasn’t really seen anything yet, so she thought they’d just be too different to get along. Spending each second of the day together didn’t help, though, because it was then she got to know Harry for who he truly was, and with that, came the awareness of how many things he’d lived through and how many things he could teach her. How soft he was with her, how he would always drape a blanket over her when she accidentally fell asleep on his bed, and how he would tell her she looked pretty even after pulling an all nighter and probably looking like a raccoon. That’s just how he was.
And that’s why she values his dreams more than her health. She would never do anything that could harm him, so she shrugs off the dreadful feeling off her back and keeps working. 
“Hey” Harry plops down on the couch next to her, draping his arm on the backrest of the couch. If he’d stretched his fingers he could touch her shoulder, but he doesn’t just yet. He knows she still doesn’t feel good, he can see it in the way she’s hugging herself in the Love on tour hoodie she has on (probably one of his because their laundry always gets mixed up).
“Hi” she says softly, her voice much lower than it’d been the last time he saw her.
It’s closer to show time now, but he’s still not in his outfit. YN wonders if that’s the reason why he came in the dressing room in the first place.
“What are yeh doin’ hidin’ in here all alone?” 
“‘m not hiding!” She pouts, “jus’… resting” 
“Mh, yeah?” He hums, turning his head to look at her, “restin’ your ears? Are you tired of my music yet?” He jokes.
“Never!” She beams, swatting at his chest playfully.
He lets his arm fall down on her shoulder, and he tugs at her, squeezing her against his chest.
She breaths him in, and despite her stuffy nose, she can smell the faint scent of his fabric softener. Musk and lavender. It’s the same as hers.
 “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a pain lately…” he trails off, his mouth buried in her hair, “nothing to do with you… was jus’ nervous is all”
She squeezes his hoodie between her fingers to tug him closer, “I’m really proud of you. You’ll do great.”
“Thanks, pet” he grins, breaking away from the hug.
She sniffles and he looks between her eyes warily, “’s there anything you want to tell me before I go on stage?”
“Jus’ to kick ass” she giggles, aware that wasn’t what he was alluding at.
“Mmmh” he muses, getting up from the couch. He knew she’d be stubborn about this so he doesn’t pressure her.
“Hav’to start gettin’ ready” he clears his throat, heading towards the portable hanger YN set up in his dressing room.
He then proceeds to take off his hoodie and his tank top, leaving him shirtless before her.
She’s seen him in his underwear many times, but maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the crush on him that’s growing stronger everyday, but she feels her insides get warm at the sight. 
He tugs his sweats down his legs too, kicking them off his feet, and YN pretends to pick up her phone to respond to a message that definitely could have waited. 
He picks up the heart printed overalls he’d be wearing and tugs them over his legs, jumping a little in his place so they could fit over his bum.
Once he’s fully dressed, he looks over at YN and finds her looking at him already, her eyes a little droopy. He feels his heart tug in his chest at the sight. He wishes she’d let him help her. If he could he’d send her back to the hotel straight away, but he has to admit he’s selfishly relishing in the idea of having her here, looking at him perform. It makes him want to do even better than he always does. 
“All ready then” he smiles, dimples denting both his cheeks.
“Mmhh” she hums, getting up on her feet. She walks towards him and adjusts the neck of his shirt, petting it down.
“Good luck Harry” she smiles. He has to refrain himself from lowering his head down to kiss her, and he’s aware these thoughts are way too unprofessional of him, but he can’t help himself. Not when she’s looking at him like that.
“See ya after the show, pet”
“Harry!” Jeff pats down on his shoulders as soon as Harry runs backstage, “you just smashed it! Fuckin’ smashed it mate!”
Harry laughs with him out of politeness, but his mind is really on something else.
“Fuckin’ Wembley, Harry! Wembley’s Harry’s house!” Someone else shouts, and he thinks it’s Lloyd but he doesn’t really pay much attention to him. There’s someone missing from the crowd. YN. She’s nowhere to be found, and he’d really like to celebrate with her. She’s the one that should join in on the fun and get a little bit of praise too, because without her, harry doesn’t think he could’ve played Wembley.
Everything was going fine, and he saw her next to his mother standing in the private part of the pit, but then, when he came back after chatting with a couple of fans, she was gone. He wonders if she’s okay.
“Hey, Jeff” he clears his throat, hoping to be discreet with his tone of voice, “where’s YN?” 
“Oh…” he nods, “she wasn’t feeling proper good, so I sent her to your dressing room. I told her to get back to the hotel, but she refused to leave”
Harry nods and after a ‘thanks’ he hurries towards his dressing room, hoping to find her there.
Once he opens the door, the sight of YN sleeping on the couch crouched on herself makes his heart somersault in his chest.
“Hey, pet” he coos softly once he crouches down next to her.
He repeats the endearing greeting, and this time she stirs awake. YN brings one hand to knuckle at her eyes tiredly, and Harry frowns at the sight of her bloodshot eyes. He brings one hand to caress her cheek, but when he realizes how warm she is, he brings it up to her forehead. She’s burning hot. 
He immediately feels guilty. He should’ve sent her back to the hotel as soon as he realized she was sick, hell, he shouldn’t have let her leave his room that morning!
“Harry?” She asks timidly, her voice coming out scruffy. She gulps but flinches as the hurt in her throat doesn’t subside. 
“Yeah, ’s me” he whispers, moving the hair away from her face, “let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” 
“No Harry! The show! You can’t leave… the show! It’s wembley” she stresses, gripping his bicep tightly to refrain him from leaving her.
“Shh, shh” he shushes her, “calm down. ’s okay. The show was great. Everything was great” he coos, pressing his lips down her forehead and flinching from how hot it feels, “you did so great”.
She sniffles and: “great?” 
“Yeah” he nods, reassuring her, “let’s go now, okay?”
He helps her get up on her feet, and she stumbles a bit in her place. She grips the fabric of his overalls tightly between her fingers, and he lets her, hoping to be at least a little bit of comfort.
“How are you feelin’? What hurts?” He asks her once they reach his hotel room (he wanted to go back to hers, but couldn’t find her key and didn’t want to startle her too much).
“Everything” she pouts.
“I’m so sorry, darling” he sighs, ushering her inside his room.
She’s stable on her feet now, the little nap at the venue kind of helped a bit in soothing her, but still, everything hurts, and the thought of being in a hotel room and not at her own house bothers her.
She also doesn’t want Harry to look at her like this, all sweaty and red in the cheeks. She must look so embarrassing! 
“I’ll draw you a bath, how about that?” He proposes, not waiting for her response and heading directly towards the bathroom.
Now that he thinks about it, harry’s glad she’s in his room, because (being the Harry Styles) his room has a bathtub, whereas hers doesn’t. He also has lots of salt baths and bubbles to add to the water, courtesy of the hotel, and he adds everything he can to soothe her stuffed nose and make the bath as pleasing as possible.
She knocks on the door delicately, and he turns his head to look at her.
“Bath’s ready” he smiles gently, and he dips his index finger to test the temperature of the water, careful not to make it too hot to not aggravate her fever any more. 
Harry excuses himself from the bathroom, and tells her to give him a shout if she needs anything.
It’s a couple of minutes later when he hears her calling for him, her voice still lower than normal.
He knocks on the door and after he gets her consent he opens it, peeking his head inside. She’s laying in the bathtub, the water submerging her almost to her neck, and he’s aware she’s naked under, but the bubbles cover her body entirely.
“Are yeh all right?” He asks worriedly.
“Mhmh,” she hums, “jus… keep me company?” 
He’s happy she’s more responsive now, and he happily sits at her side, plopping down on the toilet seat next to the tub.
They sit in silence for a while, Harry’s aware he’s still in his fancy (and uncomfortable) show clothes, but he doesn’t care. He’s just happy to dote on her now as she’s been doing with him since she’s been hired.
“I can’t believe you played at wembley and I missed half of it” she says after a while, the water sloshing around her as she turns to look at him.
“There’s always next time” he grins at her playfully.
She throws a smile at him, “bet”.
His mouth opens in a sideway smile, his dimple indenting only one of his cheeks, and more seriously than he did before, he says “I wish you’d told me you weren’t feelin’ good”
“Didn’t want to spoil your day” she shrugs.
He wants to tell her she wouldn’t have spoiled it, that if she’d asked he would’ve postponed his show and crawled in bed with her, cuddling her until she felt better, even with the risk of getting himself sick too, he didn’t care. He would have done anything to make her feel good; but how can he tell her? How can he be honest about something like that without revealing another part of himself to her? He’s her boss. He’s older than her. And he doesn’t know if she feels the same way.
So, instead of making a complete fool out of himself, he ushers her out of the tub, passing her a towel without looking at her. He engulfs her in the bathrobe and ties it tight on her stomach, careful to have her bits covered completely by the fabric of the towel.
When he reaches his room, he takes out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for her to sleep in, and he leave her to change in the bathroom.
While he waits for her to come out, he texts his mum if she could make that delicious soup she always prepared when he was sick, promising he wasn’t sick himself and that he’d explain in the morning. His mum answers a couple of minutes later with a thumbs up and a kissy face. 
He locks his phone and plugs it in the charger next to the bed, leaving it on the bedside table.
When YN comes out of the bathroom, she looks better already. Her cheeks aren’t as red and her eyes appear to be more rested, but, she still looks tired, and he smiles at her as he tugs the comforter down for her to slip in.
She curls up under the covers and waits for Harry to tuck her in, “comfortable?” He asks.
She nods with her cheek against the pillow, “just wish I was home” she whispers and the affirmation pains him.
“I’ve been overworking yah, haven’t I?” He sighs deeply, feeling extremely guilty. 
She’s quick to shake her head no, flinching when a sting of pain hits her temples with the movement. 
“Yes I have… you’ve been s’good” he smiles down at her.
“You’re a Wembley player now” she whispers, her eyes closing on her as she speaks, and Harry chuckles endeared at her. 
“Get some rest” he coos, but she’s already fallen in a deep sleep that will probably be tainted with a curly headed guy with green eyes and a pretty smile.
He fishes from inside her bag a tab of ibuprofen and, with a glass of water, he places them on the bedside table closer to her side, so, if she’d ever were to wake up in pain, she could take the medicine immediately. 
He takes the shortest shower he’s ever taken, quickly putting on his pajamas and brushing his teeth. Once he’s ready for bed, he slips in next to her, leaning down to press his lips on her forehead to check her temperature. She’s still warm, but the bath seemed to be of help, and probably the much needed sleep, too.
He thinks he’ll give her the rest of the month off. He owes it to her, so she can get back up on her feet and spend some time at home if she’d like. He takes a minute to wonder why hasn’t he ever given her more than a day of rest, and he doesn’t have to wonder too much, because he knows the answer already, one that is overbearing and too deep to even analyze after the day he’s had: he doesn’t want to be away from her that much time. It’s as simple as that. He’s fucked.
Read part 1 to their story here
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harrysdaydream-tpwk · 8 months
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part 1 - how you meet
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summary: part one, harry and y/n meet for the first time. it isn’t smooth sailing, but shes intrigued.
warnings: none
pairing: harry styles x fem!reader
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“Fuck, shit!”, you swore, hitting the espresso maker, once and then again, when the only thing it did was to spew more steam at you, fogging up your glasses.
“You alright?”, one of your coworkers asked and you nodded, though defeated.
“You think you can take over preparing the drinks for me, while I’ll handle the register? If I have to fight this machine one more time, something will be broken and it will either be my hand or the coffeemaker.” You looked at him desperately, your hands folded together in a silent plea.
“Alright, alright”, he laughed, “Don’t want to call an ambulance because you couldn’t control your anger. At least I won’t have to deal with asshole customers anymore.” He passed you and you blew him a bunch of exaggerated kisses before sliding right behind the cash register, slightly more motivated to finish the rest of your shift than before.
It was unusually quiet for Friday afternoon, normally all of the tables would’ve been taken- from desperate college students trying to finish their essays to single mothers, hoping to rekindle their failed love life. Although the job was a pain in your ass and barely covered all the bills and loans you had to pay off, it always had something to offer for your personal entertainment.
But now, as you waited for something to happen, other than the few fifteen years olds throwing straws at each other in the corner booth, you felt terribly bored. Your elbows quickly found their way to the counter and you put your chin in your waiting hands, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.
The nameless indie music idling out of the speakers above your head lulled you in a state of trance as you stared at the passer-by’s outside of the store, the big glass front not sparing you any detail. Even your coworker, who was the only employee inside the store besides you, had sat down on a few cases of soda stacked together, blasting TikTok and its annoying sounds throughout the whole store, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.
Then, suddenly, you were ripped out of your daydreaming by the bell ringing above the door and you stood up fast, startling not only the newcomers, but yourself as well.
“Hey, welcome in. Is there anything I can get started for you?”, you asked, peering at the three men, who just stared for a moment, as if assessing the situation. Weird.
The place you worked at was in a small side street, away from the bigger crowds, with quirky names for almost all of the things you had on your menu, so you gave your new customers a second to understand and choose something from your assortment.
Before you could turn away and pretend to be busy, one of them spoke up, though quietly, you could barely hear him.
“Hi. Sorry, we didn’t expect such an enthusiastic greeting. Is there anything you would recommend?” His voice was deep and gentle and you couldn’t help but admit that he looked exactly like the kind of man you would usually go for.
“I don’t know”, you reply, your voice now back to its usual octave and enthusiasm- or rather the lack thereof, “I usually just get the Iced Caramel Macchiato.”
To this day, you still refused to read any of the actual names of the drinks out loud.
“I’ll take that one then”, the man said, smiling at you. You nod as you type his order into your register.
“Anything else?”, you asked, smiling your “customer service smile” as your friends jokingly called it and the other two men nodded, replying with their orders.
“Alright, will that be to-go or are you staying in?” You waited for a second while they looked at each other and thought to yourself “That question couldn’t have been that hard”.
Finally, the guy with the long, brown hair mumbled “To go, please.”
“Okay then, swipe your card whenever you’re ready. And I need a name to call when your coffee is done.”
“Harry”, the guy who spoke to you first replied and stepped forward, pressing his card on the card reader. You nodded satisfied.
You turned around briefly, to check if you coworker, Charlie, got the order. Pleased that he was already on it, you directed your gaze back to the front of the store. Startled, you reeled back. Harry, who was the only one still standing in front of the counter, was starting at you intently. The other two had fallen back, standing near the door, as if they were waiting- no rather watching out for something- or someone.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”, you inquired, observing how his shoulders rode up defensively. He was wearing a long, blue jacket, a hat and sunglasses and if you were honest, his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous. Paired with the black nike shorts, he looked a bit mismatched, like he was unsure whether it was warm out or not. You could’ve easily answered that question, seeing as you had been sweating profusely since you left your studio apartment this morning.
You were sure you looked disgusting, your uniform clinging uncomfortably to the body parts you most certainly didn’t want them to stick to, mascara probably smudged from the humidity from the steam that had been blowing in your face earlier.
How he managed to still look fresh, even with the thick jacket on was an absolute mystery to you.
“No, no, sorry. I like your button”, he answered, referring to the grumpy cat pin your mother had gifted you a while ago. It was ridiculous and cheesy, but it reminded you of home, so you wore it anytime you felt even slightly homesick. You debated telling him as much, but you weren’t up for much of a conversation, so you settled on a polite “Thank you.”
He smiled and nodded.
“Order for Harry?”, Charlie called and the man looked around, rather paranoid, as if he was scared someone was going to jump up from behind the counter any second.
“That’s me”, he said, still shyly smiling at you before turning towards the pick-up station.
“Have a nice day”, you called out sarcastically behind him and he waved, walking out the door, his company joining soon after.
You exhaled deeply and turned towards Charlie again, who suddenly squealed loudly. “Oh my God, what?”, you said, clutching your hand over your chest.
“Do you know who that was?”, he asked, excitedly, “Harry fucking Styles. And I think he liked you with all that staring he did.”
“No, it wasn’t. Was it?”, you asked disbelievingly. He nodded, “Oh, yeah. It was him. I’d recognize him anywhere. I think he’s actually having a show in town tonight.”
“But why would he come in here out of all places? I mean, we’re far away from anything slightly entertaining or fun.” You looked at Charlie quizzically.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “Maybe that’s exactly the point. What are the odds of getting recognized by hoards of fans in a small shop like this?”
“I guess so.”
You grabbed a wet cloth from the sink, starting to wipe down the counter, not able to shake the fact that superstar Harry Styles just walked into your workplace, however annoyed you might’ve been at that moment, it had felt oddly right and somehow meaningful. You touched the pin on your apron carefully, smiling at the chipped feeling of the plastic fading at the edges.
-
Two days later, the incident- which was how Charlie kept calling it, was nothing but a fun story you could tell your friends and something to be teased about by your coworkers. Yes, you had been kind of rude to him, maybe you could’ve been a bit nicer. Treat People with Kindness or whatever he always preached. But it was in the past now. It wasn’t like you would ever see him again.
At least that’s what you told the part of yourself that kept insisting that maybe he would return- the nagging voice that believed Charlie, who kept shooting you meaningful glances whenever one of Harry’s songs played on the radio.
You were in a middle of a lunch rush, the small room of the shop packed with people, when your wishful thinking suddenly became reality. Right in the middle, as if the crowd had split in two, he appeared. Or maybe he had just entered through the door like everyone else did and patiently waited in line. You couldn’t be sure.
“Harry, hi”, you greeted sincerely, when he approached the counter, “What brings you back?” You smiled ruefully, thinking about your last interaction.
“Hi. Slightly better mood today, huh?” So he had picked up on it last time. Your eyes travelled down his body quickly- you couldn’t help it, sue you. He was wearing a white button down this time, messily tucked in a light washed pair of denim shorts- although he managed to make it look stylish- and no sunglasses. His hair was hidden by a yellow crochet bucket hat. Cute.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know who you were and I wasn’t having a good day. What can I do for you today?”, you apologized.
“I think everyone deserves kindness, even if they weren’t popular. But it’s alright, can’t always be nice, especially in customer service. I get it, worked in a bakery for some time back at home.” He took his own shtick quite seriously you noted, but smiled politely.
“I would love to talk to you some more, but the place is packed right now. Is there anything I can get for you?”, you tried again.
“Yeah, yeah”, he chuckled, “I’ll get the Iced Caramel Macchiato again, it was really good the last time and also-“, he paused for a second, looking at your display of pastries, “One of the vegan carrot cakes, please.”
“Sure, anything else?”
“No, that’s all, thank you.”
You finish the transaction and say goodbye before tending to the next customer, a middle aged woman raising her eyebrows impatiently at you.
The rest of your shift goes by smoothly, with only a few minor incidents disrupting your flow. It all felt to good to be true, your interaction with Harry still in the back of your mind. The conversation had left you unsatisfied, craving more.
You didn’t know much about him, besides that he was Harry Styles and apparently currently on tour. He shared something with you and you couldn’t help but wonder if there would’ve been more if you had just let him talk. That’s what you reprimanded yourself for as you took of your apron and the shirt you wore for work in the locker rooms, pulling on a black hoodie with a nonsensical print on the front.
“I’ll see you tomorrow”, you yelled in the general direction of the store as you leave through the back door, a cigarette already waiting to be lit in your right hand. It was a bad habit and you were desperate to stop smoking- but on days like this it was the only thing keeping you sane.
“Hey”, a voice suddenly called and you shot up surprised, the cig almost falling out of your mouth. You took a quick drag before lowering it. Turning around, you spotted Harry of all people leaning against the wall of the back of your shop.
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”, you asked disbelievingly, clutching your chest dramatically.
“Sorry, one of your coworkers told me what time you get off. They also told me your name”, he explained, peering at you with his green eyes. Fuck, why did he have to be so handsome?
“Stalker-much?”, you couldn’t help but ask, only half joking. You brought your cigarette up to your lips again, inhaling deeply, before blowing out the smoke through your nose- welcoming the rush the nicotine gave you.
“I just wanted the chance to have a conversation with you, Y/N”, he said, rolling his eyes, but smiling at the same time. It was weird hearing your name out of his mouth.
“Why?” He shrugged helplessly, observing you smoke for a second before answering.
“Fuck if I know. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, even on stage, and my friends kept teasing me. I’m in town until tomorrow, then I’m off to Cardiff.”
“Yeah, I get it. My coworker Charlie kept wagging his eyebrows at me everytime he saw someone wearing your merch. He was the one preparing the drinks for you.” You hoisted up your tote bag, which kept slipping of your shoulder.
Harry chuckled. “He did a pretty good job if I do say so myself. The Macchiato was really good. Cashier had some perks too though.”
“He’ll pass out if I tell him what you just said. But tell me more about this cashier. Were they cute?”, you flirted back, a smirk on your face.
“Oh, very. I was hoping it’d get her number by chance”, he tried as you threw the butt of your cigarette on the pavement, stomping it out with your checkered Vans.
“Well, you’re in luck. It’s not everyday an international pop-star asks me for my cell. Can’t resist your charm”, you said quietly. His shoulders dropped slightly, as if remembering his position in the world, but he caught himself.
Harry hands you his phone and says, “Just type it in yourself. It’s always easier this way.”
You nodded, taking his phone with clammy hands. What a weird, surreal world you were suddenly thrown into. The fact that he trusted you enough to just pass you his phone. The fact that he was standing opposite you, watching you, being interested in you. You wondered if this was all a dream you’d suddenly be woken up from.
But no one did. This was reality, you realized as you pressed the cellphone back into his waiting hand, brushing it with the movement. You looked at each other for a moment.
“The cute girl from the coffee place? Really?”, he asked and you giggled. Honest to God giggled. What has your life become?
Harry pocketed his phone, letting his hands hang loosely at his sides. “Well”, he cleared his throat, “I have to go. Rehearsals and all that. I’m already too late. I’ll text you?” He looked at you hopefully.
“Sure”, you answered, smiling softly, “I’ll be waiting.” You step closer, standing on your tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek- a barely there brush of lips, but he still blushed.
“I’ll see you around, H.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
well, this marks the first part of my first ever series on this account. i’m actually so excited to see what people think. don’t forget to leave a like& follow for more<3 stay tuned!
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pancakes4two · 1 year
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back with a little blurb about our fav family! let me know what you think!!!
MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram some outtakes…
first pic was when we first found out we were pregnant🥺 time has flown by so quick i can’t believe that our sweet boy is in our arms now!!!
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pillowpersonpp We love you mumma!
gemmastyles TBT to H calling me fully hysterical because he was so excited to be a dad
yourinstagram the best day… he should be glad i’m not exposing him with all the vids i took
harryfan3 NO Y/N RELEASE THE VIDS
harrystan5 this makes me cryyyyyyy it’s so clear that he’s finally getting to be what he’s always wanted to be
kendalljenner motherhood looks so beautiful on you
harryflorals Just gonna ask for everyone… will you please adopt all of us?
harryfan ^ what harryflorals said
harrystan ^^^ !!!
harryfan1 DADRRY DADRRY DADRRYYYYY
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram there’s a new baby on board @ harry’s house!
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gemmastyles Ok I’m crying this is positively adorable
yourinstagram beau kept reaching for that cardboard cutout of h and he wouldn’t stop babbling at it 😭😭😭 i think he really thought it was his dad
harrystyles But he started crying when I picked him up later? Rude.
yourinstagram idk what to say babe ur getting out-dadded by cardboard
anthonypham beau bear!!!
yourinstagram 🧸🧸🧸🧸
harrystan2 WAIT HUH THEY’RE AT THE LATAM SHOWS?
harryfan7 no one’s seen them around tho i think they’re staying inside for the most part and watching the shows from backstage for privacy reasons
harryfan3 don’t you think he’s too young to be going on tour with h…
harrystan5 girl be serious
harryfan4 i’m pretty sure y/n and harry know what’s best for THEIR son😭 not some random stranger on the internet
voguemagazine
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voguemagazine This is the world through Harry Styles’ eyes.
VOGUE, NOVEMBER 2022 COVER.
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harryfan1 HELLO WHAT
harrystan ur telling me this man had the time to raise his newborn son, go on tour, and shoot another vogue cover?!?!
harryfan2 DOES HE SLEEP EVER
harryfan3 “this is the world through harry styles’ eyes” omg what’s this going to be i’m so excitedddddd
harryfan4 what if it’s like a collection of pictures taken by him 😭😭😭😭 I’D SIMPLY DIE
voguemagazine
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vogue Excerpts from our November cover with Harry Styles. Read the full story online at vogue.com.
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harrystan7 these pics just proving that he views the world so beautifully
harryfan1 i’ll never get over the fact that i wasn’t at that show
harryfan2 just when i thought it wasn’t possible to love him more
yourinstagram 🫶
yourinstagram for the record, beau’s fav song is indeed sweet creature
harrystan beau has taste!
TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things @s8tellite @michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight @flwrmuse
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finelinefae · 17 days
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tongue-tied
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synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk
word count: 3.1k
contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying
a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3
. . .
“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 
She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 
Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.
“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”
Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 
Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 
Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 
Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 
It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.
A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.
When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 
Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 
Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 
Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 
Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 
Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 
“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 
“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.
“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 
Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 
Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 
“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 
“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 
“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 
Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 
“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.
“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.
Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 
She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 
So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 
“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 
“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 
Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 
They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 
Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 
“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 
Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 
“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 
“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.
“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 
She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 
Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 
Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 
Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 
“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 
He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 
Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 
Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 
Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 
It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 
Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 
They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 
Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 
“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 
“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”
“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 
“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 
Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.
“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 
When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 
. . .
Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 
He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 
She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 
So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 
“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 
“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 
Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 
He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 
“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 
“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 
Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 
Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 
By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 
Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.
“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 
“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 
“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 
“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 
“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”
“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.
“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”
“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 
Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”
“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 
“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.
“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 
“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 
Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.
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harrysbabycherry · 4 months
Text
ONE NIGHT ONLY (part two)
in which one night turns into many nights and harry cannot get enough of y/n
11.8k words (wtf was i on)
warnings: smut! idk what else
a/n: i know everyone has been waiting for this one and it’s finally here!! sorry that the smut is shitty, it’s past my bedtime so i was in a rush, but please enjoy!!!
main masterlist
Harry is sure that he’s seen (Y/N) more this past week than he has all semester. 
It’s like he can’t stay away from her. She’s everywhere. Or maybe he’s just never really noticed her as much as he is now. Because outside of class, he never saw her that much. Maybe in the dining hall a few times or on his way to their only shared class, but that’s it. And he wants to be annoyed at these new sprung feelings, but he’s not. He’s far from it. And that in itself is frustrating. 
Like right now, (Y/N) is about five steps ahead of him as they leave class. She’s wearing one of her cozy knitted sweaters and leggings and he should be walking in an entirely different direction but he can’t. He’s following behind her like some sort of creep just so he can see her longer than their usual allotted fifty minutes. He didn’t even get to talk to her today, much less ask her for a pencil that he didn’t even need. 
He had another class to get to, so he didn’t see exactly where (Y/N) walked off to, but that was okay. His mind doesn’t need to be completely flooded with thoughts of her and what she’s doing and wondering if she’s thinking about him. He bets that she does from time to time. Just because she seemed to be so elated and relieved after they had sex for the first time. And now that he’ll be forever known as her first, she’s almost guaranteed to think about him. That thought alone caused him another bout of tingling in his abdomen, but he tried to ignore it. It isn’t as deep as he’s making it out to be, he just did her a favor. 
His other class finished and while it was very uneventful, he just sketched away in his notebook. He generally will look over the section they’re going to be going over in class the night before, so he doesn’t have to pay much attention. It just gives him time to sketch instead of listening to a professor explain something he won’t understand anyway. He prefers to learn things himself first and then maybe slightly listen when they get into the specifics of whatever it is in their lectures. 
When he finally did make it back to his room, he finished up some homework from the night before and then sank into his bed to stare at the ceiling. It was hard not to think about her when his mind sat idle and while he did try to occupy himself with other things not concerning her, it never lasted for long and he went right back to imagining dozens of scenarios, each starring (Y/N). 
The next time he saw her was at the pub right across the street from campus. Usually when big sports games come on, everyone flocks to the bars to watch them on the large screens. He doesn’t care much for sports, he only goes along with his frat brothers to hang out. It’s never too much fun, but he tries to keep his spirits high anyway.
He didn’t expect it in the least to see (Y/N) sat at a table in the corner, chatting away with her friend. He’d never seen her at this pub in particular and he’s not sure why she’d even come. It doesn’t seem like her scene. 
Harry tried. He really did. He sat at the table with his friends and kept his back to her to discourage himself from looking at her. But that only made him glance over his shoulder every ten seconds to make sure she was still there and hadn’t run off anywhere. Not that it’s his responsibility to look after her, he’s sure she can do that on her own. It’s just that he can’t help staring at her. (Y/N) probably has no idea he’s here. Yet. 
“(Y/N). Oh my god. Isn’t that Harry?” 
She sighed, hoping that it wasn’t true. Her back was facing the entrance to the pub just in case something like this happened. It was exactly what she was trying to avoid. After a quick glance over her shoulder, she confirmed that it was him with a nod of her head. 
He was dressed as casually as he always is in all black. She’s not sure how he can make the simplest outfit so mesmerizing. It’s like he doesn’t have to try. From here, she can see that he’s sitting with a few of his friends at a table with his back to her. She only allowed herself a few seconds to look at him before facing Maya again. 
(Y/N) spilled everything the day after the party to Maya. She couldn’t keep it in. Plus, Maya noticed something different about her and when she asked, she couldn’t keep it under wraps. She told Maya all the details. Down to the most specific bits and Maya was so proud of her and trying to convince her that Harry has a crush on her or something. He doesn’t. Maya just loves to romanticize anything she can. But that’s not at all what happened.
And since then, Maya has made it her mission to try to pry more details out of (Y/N) about Harry. She doesn’t know much to begin with and even though they did have breakfast the next morning which Maya said was definitely not normal for one night stands, he didn’t offer her much about himself, instead asking her questions about everything under the sun. 
“That’s him.” She hasn’t had much contact with him since. It’s only been a week and not that she thought that they would start talking more. It’s just that there hasn’t been many opportunities for them to interact in class. Finals are on their way and all the professors are buckling down for that. 
“So? Are you going to talk to him?” Maya is practically bouncing in her seat, too excited about (Y/N) possibly having a crush. For the record, she doesn’t have a crush on Harry. He’s cute but that’s as far as she’s willing to go. Any further and it would just be delusional. He’s not into her like that and she is so far from his type it’s not even funny. 
“Yeah, right. Why don’t I just get up and go over there now?” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her water. They came to the pub to eat greasy food and watch the game. Well, they weren’t there for the game, but more so the environment around the game. (Y/N) is positive she’s looked at one of the tv screens in here once for a total of three seconds before going back to chatting with Maya. 
“Come on. Go say hi.” Maya nudged her foot under the table and she shook her head. No way in hell is that happening. It would be so awkward to approach him with his friends who probably have zero clue who she is. Now is just not the time. 
“I’ll see him in class on Monday. It’s okay.” (Y/N) decided that the next time she checked over her shoulder for him would be the last. She can’t be this caught up in him when they barely know each other. Even if she does find him a bit dreamy. But it’s unrealistic and she’s not going to try to convince herself otherwise. 
When she finally did look over, she wished she hadn’t. A girl that she has seen around on campus a few times, has her arm draped over his shoulder and is leaning into him like it's something they do all the time. (Y/N) watched as her hand traveled up from his shoulder and into the hair at the nape of his neck. And that was plenty for her to see for the night. She took another gulp of her water after swearing to herself she’d never turn around again. 
She doesn’t know why the sight of that alone is enough to make her feel ill but it just is. She wishes it didn’t because it’s not like anything they did had any meaning behind it. It did for YN, only because losing her virginity is kind of a big deal, but for Harry, it was probably just another night. She’s been trying not to think too much about it because it’s not as serious as she’s making it seem. 
“Oh, that’s Allison. We have that one class with her on Thursday. Are they still dating?” 
“Dating?” 
Sure, (Y/N) had seen Harry around with a couple girls a few times, but it had never been anything that seemed long term. She knew of Aliison, but had no idea she had ties to Harry. And if they’re dating, it must be very new because he was just with (Y/N) a week ago. Something is not adding up. 
“Yeah. They’ve been on and off for a while.” Maya shrugged it off, not aware that (Y/N) was starting to panic on the inside. She doesn’t want to be in the middle of anything. And if Harry put her there, she’ll have to have a few words with him. 
Maya changed the subject then, which she was thankful for, but that didn’t mean she was paying attention while her mind was spiraling. She didn’t take Harry as the type to sleep with someone else while he had a girlfriend, but maybe she really does know nothing about him. Maybe he would do something like that.
Eventually, she tuned back into the conversation and was able to let herself relax about the situation for a moment. The food was exactly what she needed after a long day. It really hit the spot and she can’t wait to go home and cozy up under her blankets. Maya was almost ready to go when a group of her friends showed up and stole her attention for a moment. She politely interrupted them and said she was running to the restroom. Really, she just needed a break from the noisy bar and the view behind her. She hadn’t looked in fifteen minutes but she can guarantee it’s worse now than what it was. And she really doesn’t want to know what’s happened since. 
Locking the bathroom stall behind her, she took a deep breath. It was starting to get warm in the pub and she’s considering leaving, even if Maya isn’t ready to go. Their apartment is just down the way, so there won’t be any issues making the short walk by herself if she has to. 
She left the bathroom after washing her hands and when she pulled the door open, she gasped. Harry was right there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. She really didn’t expect him to interact with her at all and now that he’s here, after a week, she still has no idea what to say to him. 
“Hi.” She blurted out, stepping out of the bathroom and letting the door swing shut behind her. 
“Since when do you come out after eight pm?” She wanted to roll her eyes because he’s clearly teasing her like he enjoys doing so much. 
“I’m leaving anyway.” Being in his presence now is making her skin feel hot. Maybe because he saw her in one of her most vulnerable states or maybe she has more feelings about him than she thought she did. It’s easy to say she doesn’t have a crush on him when he’s not standing right in front of her. But now that he’s here, there’s a weakness starting in her knees and she really has to leave. She’ll text Maya on her way out. 
Not caring to have to walk through the crowds of tables to the front door, she spun around, making her way to the back exit off the hallway leading to the bathroom. It was the perfect getaway and she knows that even though Maya initially wanted to leave, she probably wants to stick around a little longer. And (Y/N) is just not interested in that right now. 
She pushed the door open, seeing exactly what she expected. An alleyway that leads back to the main street. Thankfully there was a light above her head, even though it wasn’t providing much help to the rest of the alley. But it was enough to get her walking. 
She didn’t get too far because her arm was grabbed and she was dragged right back into his chest. She could’ve sworn she left him in the hallway because she didn’t hear him behind her. 
“Where are you going?” His arms are enveloping her completely and it was almost chilly outside before he grabbed her but now she can’t even think about being cold. 
“Home. I have to be up early.” A complete lie but he doesn’t have to know that. He took two steps forward, taking her with him until her back was pressed to the brick wall behind her. 
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He said it like it was fact. Which it may have been but it wasn’t something she was consciously doing. She just thought that everything should go back to normal, business as usual. They barely talked before they slept together, why does that have to change anything?
“No I’m not. We’re not friends.” He’s pressed against her, so much so that if she thinks about it too hard, she can feel him through his pants. But she’s not letting her brain take her there. Because she can’t. 
“So, you get to fuck me and then tell me we’re not friends? That’s very cruel, (Y/N). I didn’t know you could be so cold.” She huffed, leaning her head back against the wall, not wanting to look at him for longer than a few seconds at a time. His gaze is smoldering and she’d already felt her stomach stirring as soon as she saw him outside of the bathroom. 
“I already thanked you for that. It doesn’t mean that we have to be best friends, does it?” 
“Guess not. Just thought you’d be a little nicer after begging for my cock like that. That’s all.” She shoved his chest. 
“That is not at all what happened.” She scolded him, wanting to get out from under him. His hands are now on either side of her head and he’s inches from her face. 
“Then what did happen, (Y/N)? Refresh my memory.” 
“There was nothing memorable about it. I wanted to get it over with and I did.” She watched as he scrunched his eyebrows and pulled back from her the slightest bit. 
“Really? Nothing memorable? After the way you were screaming for me? If that’s true then I guess your panties will be dry right now, won’t they?” Fuck. She nodded anyway, trying to be discreet about squeezing her thighs together more than they already are. “Let me feel.” 
“There is no need for that—”
“Then stop lying. Let me feel anyway. Missed it.” 
(Y/N) would’ve never guessed that she would ever be in this situation in an alley, but she always surprises herself and Harry does too. The fact that he wants to touch her now is only adding to the fluttery feeling in her stomach. 
“What about Allison?” 
Something else that made his face twist up. His hand left the wall and sat on her waist.  
“What about her?” 
“Aren’t you together?” He chuckled, shaking his head. 
“Not even close. She wants to be but I’m not interested and never have been.” 
“Then why was she all over you in there?” 
“You see everything, don’t you? Even when you pretend you don’t,” (Y/N) doesn’t know why she even brought that part up. She wishes she didn’t see it and she wishes she didn’t mention it either. Because if he does like Allison, what does that have to do with her? “She’s so far from relevant, I don’t even know why you’d ever think she’d have a chance with me.” 
(Y/N) wanted to die. Because if Allison, pretty, super cool, smart Allison didn’t have a chance with him, then she definitely didn’t. And she should just walk home now and save herself from overthinking later. 
“Good to know. I have to go now.” She didn’t even try to move because of the way he was holding her against the brick wall. She would’ve moved as much as she just did if she tried. Not that she doesn’t want to be exactly right here on a Friday night, but she’s trying to use common sense. 
“Can I walk you home then?” 
“No.” 
“Why not?” 
“It’s just down the street here, I don’t need a chaperone.” He laughed, still not moving. 
“Okay. Fair. Have you got a minute though?” She squinted at him. She’d already given him so much time standing here so she’s unsure what he wants now, after ten minutes of holding her hostage. 
(In no way does she feel like she’s being held hostage, she actually feels so incredibly sparkly inside, she has no idea if she’d make it home herself. And that’s just with his hands holding her waist and having him standing right against her.)
“For?” 
“You’re being a little mean, (Y/N). Do you know that? I’m just trying to catch up with you and it’s like you wanted to fuck me and never talk to me again. Is that true? Be honest.” Harry is stalling in every sense of the word. He has no real reason to keep her here in this dark alley, but he knows if she leaves, he won’t get to talk to her again until the new week starts. And that just won’t do. 
“That’s not true.” He certainly is teasing her and he’s loving every second of it. But it’s almost like they’re in grade school and all he can do is be mean to her because he can’t quite get out that he likes her so much and he’d do anything just to be around her. He’s working on it though and hopefully she’ll get the picture soon. 
“I was just going to say I owe you.” He shrugged, trying not to smile too hard at her. He has no idea how she’s going to react to his proposition, but he just knows it’s going to get her red in the face. 
“You don’t owe me anything, Harry.” Now (Y/N) is thoroughly confused. What could he possibly be talking about right now? If anyone owes anyone anything it would be her. He’s the one that paid for breakfast and everything. 
“Remember when I told you about foreplay? How important it is?” She watched as he finally took a step away from her but with a hint of a smirk on his face. She’s not sure what he’s up to but she doesn’t like it. 
“Mhm.” 
“Good girl. And do you remember how you refused to let me touch you because you wanted me to hurry up and fuck you?” She nodded anyway, just wanting him to get to the point. “Pay back. Lucky you’re wearing a skirt.” 
Her jaw dropped as she watched him get to his knees right there on the cold concrete. He didn’t even seem bothered at all but how hard or cold the ground must be. His hands were now rubbing up and down her legs as he was seemingly waiting for her permission. 
“What?” 
“You heard me, pet. Why are you wearing a skirt anyway? It’s like you read my mind or something.” 
“I thought it was cute?” 
“Sure. Now are you going to let me eat you out or not? I’ve been dreaming about it all week long.” (Y/N) took a deep breath before trying to think of why she shouldn’t do this right now. Because she knows all the reasons why she should. 
He’s pretty much asking to do it, right? And it’s not like he’s being a dick and only asking for a blowjob. So he’s not completely in this for selfish reasons which kind of makes her wonder what his motives are. Because she’s sure if he was really concerned about giving head, he could find twenty other willing girls who are not (Y/N) in under five minutes. She considers asking him flat out why he’s doing this, but she’s never done this before. And what better person to be her first time again than Harry? He’s already seen every part of her. 
“Hm. I don’t know.” She can’t lie even if she wanted to. She’s squeezing her legs together (hopefully discreetly) and she can feel just how wet her underwear are. 
“Looks like you want me to beg then. Is that it? You want me to beg for your pussy in an alley, on a Friday night, after nine pm?” 
“Yeah. I think so.” He sighed, though he didn’t look like he was too annoyed with having to do it, and rested one of his hands on the back of her knee. 
“(Y/N)?” 
“Yes, Harry?” 
“I would really, really like to make you cum and you’re playing hard to get.” 
“It doesn’t sound like you really want it and I have places to be.” She shrugged like she could care less if he did it or not. And she could tell that it made him a little on edge. Like she really was going to deny him. 
“Pet?” 
“Mhm?” 
“You’re driving me crazy and I’m so hard I’m going to die. I don’t think you get it. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll do your homework in Smith’s for the rest of the semester if you just let me taste you once.” And there it is. His voice got a little whiny like he really was going to die if she told him no. And that’s all it took for her to lift one of her legs over his shoulder and place her hand on the back of his head to pull him closer. 
His shoulders seemed to have relaxed before he brushed her underwear to the side and started licking into her. (Y/N) really didn’t know what to expect when she agreed to this, but it felt much better than she imagined it would. She wasn’t able to keep still, especially when he brought his fingers in and pushed them right inside of her so easily. One of her hands was glued to her mouth to keep herself quiet. She had to remember that they were still very much in a public space, no matter if they are out of view, and that she really didn’t want to get caught doing this here. Her other hand was clutching Harry’s hair so tightly that it probably hurt. But he didn’t act like it bothered him at all.
Harry knew that he couldn’t physically get any closer to (Y/N) than he already was but that didn’t mean he didn’t try. Everything about her was so pretty. The moans she tried to muffle with her hands only encouraged him further. He can tell that she was just playing earlier (thankfully) and she really was so wet for him her underwear are ruined for good now. 
He thinks that after she cums, he’s going to thank her for letting him do this. Because if he thought he was hooked  before, he’s never going to be able to get her out of his head now. Not that he wanted to, ever, but her allowing him this only solidified the feelings he had for her.
He had spent up until now just messily circling his tongue and thrusting his two inner fingers inside her and while that would be plenty for her to cum from his mouth, he wanted to give her a little more. Since apparently the last time wasn’t so memorable. He wanted it to be so good that he’d have to carry her home. And he wouldn’t mind it one bit. 
So he switched to sucking her clit between his lips and that was enough to make her drop her hand from her mouth. 
“I hate you, I hate you.” Her chest was heaving and although she didn’t mean that in the slightest, it was the only way to describe how she was feeling in the moment. She couldn’t bring herself to look down at him because then she’d cum. And she wanted to feel this for just a little bit longer. 
Except, in the small bag resting against her hip, her phone started ringing. She wanted to ignore it in favor of continuing with Harry but it might be something important. 
“Wait. My phone.” She forced out. He was nice enough to slow down a little bit but when she pulled her phone out and saw Maya’s contact, she sighed. She completely forgot to text Maya to let her know where she went. 
“Answer it. Now.” She rolled her eyes at him and put the phone to her ear, thinking that Harry would give her a break, but she’d been mistaken. Right as she said hello, his thumb was swirling over her swollen clit and she might’ve made a noise right into the phone. And Harry just laughed. 
“Um, are you okay, (Y/N)?” Maya spoke up, probably utterly confused. 
“Yes, yes. I’m so okay, Maya, right now. What’s up?” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to focus too much on what he was doing to her. 
“You never came back from the table. Are you okay?” (Y/N) is not interested in small talk right now but she knows that Maya is only watching out for her, so she tried to keep it brief. 
“Oh. I decided to just go—oh my god—home.” She hurried to slap her hand over her mouth. She’d accidentally let her eyes slip down to Harry and he was licking into her again and it was too much for her to take at that moment. 
“Oh. Well I was going to head to another bar with the girls. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you sure you’re good?” (Y/N) grasped Harry’s hair tighter making him moan against her. 
“Uh huh. I’m good.” She said between gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice level. 
“Okay… are you with Harry? Because he’s not back at his table either.” She cursed to herself and looked down at Harry who seemed to have heard Maya’s question and was all too delighted by it. 
“Let me say hi.” He whispered, reaching for the phone. She slapped his hand away and shot him a look. 
“No,” She whispered back before shushing him and placing the phone to her ear again. “Uh, something like that.” 
“Hi Maya. I’m taking very good care of (Y/N) right now in case you couldn’t tell.” He spoke just loud enough for Maya to hear, but (Y/N) didn’t let it get too far and hurried to get off the phone. 
“I’ll be home soon, see you in the morning. Bye,” Then she hung up and shoved her phone back into her bag with shaking hands. “You’re the worst.” 
“You’re lying. You love it.” 
He pulled away, still curling his fingers inside of her. She could see her wetness glistening on his mouth in the very scarce light they had from a couple of feet away and it was almost enough for her to confess now that she needed him. But he decided to tease her again instead. 
“You tried to act like you weren’t soaking for me and look at you now. Crying over just my fingers. Isn’t that something?” (Y/N) decided the best thing to do was put her hand back over her mouth because she really doesn’t feel like arguing with him when he could be making her orgasm instead. 
“Come on, pet. Tell me how much you like this. You don’t have to be that quiet.” 
If she moves her hand again, she’s not sure what will come out of her mouth and she’d rather it not be how much she loves this right now and how she never wants to stop. He’s just being mean. 
“I’ll have to stop if you don’t tell me something, pet. You either like it or you don’t.” 
“It’s good,” That’s all she could manage to say before she started slipping down the wall. He didn’t say anything about it, he just used his other hand to try and help her stay upright. “It feels really, really good and I’m about to cum. Thank you.” 
“There’s my sweet girl. So thankful, always. Wanna cum now?” 
“Please.” 
(Y/N) is pretty sure that he added another finger but she really can’t remember because her eyes were squeezing shut with how he was once again sucking and licking at her clit. It was like he knew exactly what she wanted without her saying it. 
He took his fingers out, instead switching between delving his tongue inside her for a taste and then going right back to her clit. It was a combination she’d never thought of before and it was doing wonders to draw her closer and closer to the edge. 
And since he didn’t want her to be so quiet anymore, all she could do was breathe out his name after a series of yeses. But she can’t help being a little concerned about him kneeling on the ground so long, even if he looks unbothered by it, so she’s really trying to work herself up enough to cum. All it took was one glance down at him licking through her folds like he’d been starving for it and she came. 
He pulled back and caught her as she was sliding down the wall, trying to remember her own name. She was settled in his lap, legs on either side of him, holding him tightly around the neck. Perhaps the alley wasn’t the absolute best place for this, but she just needs a few minutes to regroup. 
“How was that?” He held her back just as tight while resting his chin on her shoulder. 
“Give me a second.” He chuckled, moving his face into her neck and pressing his mouth to the column of her throat. She leaned further into him and gently tangled her fingers into his hair. She really cannot believe she’s sitting behind a pub on the ground right now with Harry. And she really, really cannot believe that he was just eating her out seconds ago. 
“Can you stand?” 
“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit again.” The reason she didn’t leave his lap quite yet was because she didn’t want to. Not because he’d given her one of the best orgasms of her life and her legs had turned useless. Definitely not that. 
Managing to find her footing again, he stood up with her and shoved his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t know what to say right now. She’s so beautiful right here and he wishes he could communicate that without fearing how she’d react. 
“I know you said you don’t need a chaperone but do you mind if I just walk a few blocks with you?” 
That’s how they ended up in front of her building. And neither of them knew what to say to the other. He did walk with his arm around her waist the entire time and she did lean into him but that was only because it was so much chillier than it had been a couple hours ago. 
“I’ll see you Monday then?” (Y/N) managed to say, just trying to keep the conversation going. 
“Sure, yeah. Monday. Okay,” He paused for a second and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Would it be alright if I kissed you right now?” 
She blinked at him. It hadn’t been expected. He wants to leave her at her doorstep with a kiss? This entire thing just got a little bit more complicated  
“I would like that.” She said softly, not wanting to disturb how quiet her street had gotten all of a sudden. She let him gently tilt her head up to connect their lips and she melted right into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him back. It was much smoother than she anticipated but she didn’t mind it. 
It ended right when she considered offering for him to come inside. He pulled away so they could catch their breath and then pressed his mouth to her cheek. 
“I’ll let you go in and get back to studying.” She scoffed and shoved him away by his chest. 
“That is not all I do, you know.” 
“I know, trust me. Goodnight, (Y/N).” 
“Goodnight, Harry.” He couldn’t leave without pressing another kiss to her mouth. And then he had to force himself let her go inside, not without waving to him, and then he started off down the street, back to the pub. 
Except, he doesn’t remember the walk there at all. Instead, his mind was filled with thoughts of what (Y/N) could be doing right now. Was she as hung up on him as he was on her? 
When he sat back at the table next to his friends, still with the taste of (Y/N) on his tongue, he couldn’t help smiling. He’s going to ask her out. At least, he wants to. He has to find the courage somewhere because the sooner he does, the sooner that she can be his and that’s all he wants. 
(Y/N) had silently gone into her room and shut the door behind her. And then she changed into more comfortable clothes and sat on her bed, trying to find something to watch that’s going to put her to sleep. Once she was laid back in her pillows and relaxed, she put her hands over her face and squealed into them. 
She really can’t believe that what happened, happened. And she can’t wait to tell Maya in the morning.  
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Sitting in front of Harry again on Monday morning, (Y/N) was trying really hard not to blush. She couldn’t believe what they had done honestly. 
She told Maya all the details the next morning and she was practically screaming so (Y/N) had to quiet her down so she didn’t disrupt the neighbors. She tried to play it off like it was no big deal, just because she didn’t want to make it one. But Maya reassured her that it was a big deal and that she was proud of her for it. Even if she felt like it wasn’t something to be proud of exactly. 
So, now as she sits in front of Harry, every so often she’ll feel him tug on a strand of her hair. She tried to ignore it but that just meant he was recruiting a line of people in the seats next to her to pass her a note. She shot a smile to the girl one seat over from her that passed her a piece of folded paper and then quickly opened it. 
Stop ignoring me and give me your phone number. 
She shook her head, forcing a smile from her face and wrote him a message back. 
You’re so demanding today. Maybe if you ask nicely. 
She tried to be discreet as she held it over her shoulder for him to grab. She’d seen others get called out for passing notes and she really didn’t want to be one of them. 
This time a balled up piece of paper landed on her notebook. She wanted to glare at him but she was more interested in what he had to say. 
May I please have your phone number? 
(Y/N) was lucky that the professor was changing subjects because there was enough noise around her so that she could snicker without disturbing the room. She wrote her number down on the sheet and passed it back to him. She was going to give it to him anyway. 
Seconds later, her phone was buzzing in her pocket. She really doesn’t want to be someone who texts in class but she wants to see what he sent her more. So she kept her phone under the desk and quickly looked at his message. 
XXX: Can I walk you home after classes? 
And how could she ever say no? 
She sent him a quick sure in return and tuned back into the lesson. But now that she knows she’ll be seeing him later, she couldn’t pay attention for the rest of the period. 
When class let out, he followed her out of the lecture hall and didn’t let her get too far before pulling her to the side to talk to her. 
“I’ll meet you in the courtyard at three?” She’s not going to ask how he knows when her last class of the day finishes, so she just nodded. 
“Okay.” 
“Okay. See you in a bit, pet.” He kissed her cheek and then he was gone, on his way to another one of his classes. 
The rest of her day was spent daydreaming, with her picturing what would happen when she met him in the courtyard. Maybe she’ll finally get to invite him inside her apartment and they can hang out there. She was so eager to leave the class that she had her things packed before the professor finished with the notes. She’d gotten the majority of them, so as soon as class was dismissed, she was out of her chair and making her way across campus to meet Harry. She didn’t know exactly where he’d be, so it took a little searching since he really could be anywhere. 
When she did find him, he had Allison hanging off of his arm. He didn’t see her yet because she’d come from the side, so she stopped where she was and just watched the two of them, feeling a little disappointed. 
Harry’s face was a mix of almost impassive and almost annoyed. And it wasn’t very different from the expression he usually has around her. She wanted to think that he was annoyed with Allison, like he said he was. But he’s not too convincing right now. Instead, he looks like he always does when he’s with her. Does that mean that he’s really annoyed with her or is that how he always looks? He always appears to have a good time with her, but she doesn’t want to get too wrapped up in thinking about it. She was now confused and a little upset, so when she turned to leave and headed towards home herself, she hoped that he hadn’t caught sight of her. 
As soon as she walked into her apartment, ready to tuck herself into bed and forget about today, her phone buzzed. 
Harry: I think you just stood me up (Y/N). 
She groaned and walked back to her room and shut the door behind her before trying to think of a response. She was sure that he was going to be too distracted by Allison to give her a second thought. But she guesses she’s glad he remembered that he was supposed to walk her home. 
(Y/N): Oh my goodness, I completely forgot!
(Y/N): I just got home. Maybe next time? 
So she lied a little bit. It was for the best. She has homework to do anyway. Bringing him inside would have only prevented her from getting it done. 
Harry: Oh. That’s cool. 
Harry: Are we okay?
Harry was slightly panicking because he knew (Y/N) didn’t just forget to meet him, but he wasn’t going to press her if she didn’t want to talk about it. He waited much longer than he anticipated for her to respond back to his question. 
(Y/N): Yeah, we’re okay :) 
He sighed in relief, glad that he hadn’t done something to make her want to avoid him again. 
(Y/N) spent the rest of the night with her face in her pillow, trying not to think too hard about what tomorrow will bring.
She should’ve known that Harry would track her down early next morning and demand to know why she didn’t meet up with him. Because that’s exactly what he did. 
Standing outside out of her first class for the day was Harry, leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed and not looking too pleased. She could’ve raced right past him and she did try, though she wouldn’t admit it to him, but he grabbed her wrist before she could get too far. 
“Did I do something?” He asked right away. He’d been up all night fighting the urge to text her again and try to lighten the mood a little bit. He can tell despite her saying everything was fine, it wasn’t. She seemed surprised he was there but he was so exhausted from the night before that he needed answers and he needed them now. 
“What?” 
“(Y/N). I was supposed to walk you home yesterday and you acted like you forgot. What happened?” The halls of the building were still kind of busy and she really didn’t want to have this conversation here. When she’s probably just making stuff up in her head anyway. 
“Nothing? Are you alright?” (Y/N) doesn’t think flat out admitting that she thinks he can do better will solve anything. So she’d rather deflect until he gets a good enough answer without her having to tell him everything. Plus, she doesn’t want him to know how pathetic she really is. 
“No I’m not. I want you to be honest with me. Right now.” His hand still had a gentle hold on her wrist and no matter how slight the touch, she still felt a fluttering in her stomach. But it got overshadowed by how serious the conversation had turned. He wanted her to confess to liking him so much and then to not feeling like she’d ever be enough for him.  
“Okay. Can we go outside or something? It’s kind of crowded here.” He didn’t reply, he just led her to the nearest door and as soon as they stopped at a bench, his expression once again appeared as if he was waiting for something. 
“If you want me to back off, just say that. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. But tell me if I did something you didn’t like.” 
“It wasn’t anything like that. I just, you were with Allison again, so I thought that maybe you were busy with her and changed your mind about walking me home.” It was close enough to the truth without making her seem too insecure. 
“I don’t want anything to do with her, (Y/N). Please know that. She’s everywhere and always talking to me like I give a fuck but there is nothing going on there. I promise you,” He grabbed both of her hands this time. “Now tell me how much you missed me already. Because I know you did.” 
After she denied him a few more times, she finally gave in when he pouted at her and said that she was making him sad. And that was plenty for her to hide her face in her hands and eventually tell him that she missed him a little bit, even though it had been less than a day since they’d seen each other. 
He walked her to her next class and left her with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to see her very soon. 
And while that did make her feel so much better about everything, she still was a little uneasy. But for now, she has to take his word for it and none of it means that he likes her the way that she’s beginning to like him. So, she’s going to tread lightly for a little while and try not to put too much faith into anything. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Harry didn’t exactly plan to overhear (Y/N)’s conversation with Maya. He was walking a few paces behind her like he always ends up doing somehow. They’d just gotten out of class and Maya had been waiting for her outside of the room.
He didn’t speak much to her today, or the past week, just because they had exams coming up, and there were revisions so couldn’t tap her on the shoulder like he normally does. In fact, when he saw her flip to the last page in the packet, he was rushing to answer the rest of the questions on his sheet so he could get out when she did. 
He kept trailing behind her because their conversation instantly intrigued him and he secretly wanted to know if they were going to mention him. 
“Everyone’s going to that huge party tonight. Will you go with me?” Harry did hear everyone talking about a party, but he wasn’t planning on going, just because he had some work to catch up on. But if there’s even a slim chance that (Y/N) might be going, he’s there. 
“Uh, sure. Sounds fun.” He knows that she knows it doesn’t sound fun at all. Unless you’re drinking. Otherwise it’s just an obnoxiously loud party full of drunk college students. 
“Great! Don’t worry, there will be plenty of cute guys there.” He watched as Maya nudged (Y/N) with her elbow and he swears his eye twitched. From then on, he went in the opposite direction. He doesn’t want to hear anymore of what they’re going to say. 
Maya started laughing seconds later and (Y/N) was confused. 
“You didn’t see him did you?” 
“Who?” 
“Harry was right behind us when I said that thing about cute guys. I could tell he was mad from here.” She laughed again, leaving her more confused than ever. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I only said that so he would hear. He’s so into you (Y/N). Please just go out with him already.” (Y/N) couldn’t help checking over her shoulder. Of course Harry was nowhere in sight, but she cannot believe Maya just did that. 
“He’s not interested.” She’s dragging her feet now, just thinking about it. The past weekend was just fun for both of them. It doesn’t have to make things complicated. 
“You and I both know that’s not true. We should start planning your outfit now!” She dragged her off in the direction of their apartment even though she has class in another hour or so. She’s just thankful the walk back will be quick. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“He’s going to be so pissed.” 
After classes were over for the day, Maya made it her mission to dress (Y/N) up in a way that she, once again, never would’ve thought of. This time it was another short skirt that almost felt shorter than the last one, but denim this time. And the top she was wearing was a baby pink sweater that tied in the front. But the fun part was that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Which is quite bold for her because she really can’t remember the last time she went anywhere without a bra on. She just hopes it’s not windy on the walk there. 
Her sneakers were a must again. She just can’t see having her feet squished into shoes that are going to make her feet ache the next day. She’d rather be somewhat comfortable in an outfit that’s really out of her comfort zone. 
Maya’s plan was to try to get Harry’s attention to make him confess his feelings to her. And while that sure would be a sight to see, (Y/N) just doesn’t believe that it’s ever going to happen. They slept together once. It’s not like they got married and they’re now bound to each other for eternity. She just wants to let it go. Harry is not interested and even if he was, she’d still not be certain of his intentions. And it’s just too much work to have to sift through that. 
(Y/N)’s plan is just to find someone else for the night and forget about Harry for the time being. Because maybe that’s what this is. He was her first and now she feels this tiny, tiny attachment to him. Not that it means anything too deep, but that’s just how it is.
Sure, they had that moment in the alley that made her think otherwise, but it really just wouldn’t make sense. They don’t belong together and they never will. And it’s just easier to turn her attention to something or someone else.  
It took way less time than she thought it would to get to the frat house. It was one a couple streets over from Harry’s and she’s so, so glad that it’s not his frat because she’s not sure she would’ve come. She hopes that Harry is nowhere near here tonight. It’ll just make this whole thing easier. 
“Do you think Harry will be here?” She still asked Maya, just wanting to know what she thought. 
“For sure. He thinks you’re going to get with someone else. He has to be here to stop you, duh.” She released a sigh, unheard by Maya as they walked past the threshold and into the noisy party. 
Harry saw (Y/N) right as she walked in. He got to the party early enough for them to still be setting up the drinks and the music so they tasked him with helping set up chairs in the backyard. He knows the members of this frat pretty well and has a lot of classes with the other guys in it, so it was no big deal helping them. He just didn’t want (Y/N) to get there before him. Because he’s not letting her leave his sight tonight.
He had plenty of time after his classes to imagine (Y/N) getting swept off her feet by some guy and all it did was anger him to another level he’s never experienced in his life. And it almost scared him. But it’s not like it doesn’t make sense. If he ever knew that (Y/N) was with someone else, he’s not sure he would make it through the rest of the semester with her. He’d have to take academic leave and go cry to his mum about it. And that’s not an exaggeration. 
Harry watched it happen in real time. (Y/N) walked in the house and he saw dozens of people turn to look at her. Because she’s gorgeous and perfect and no one in this house could ever meet her standards. Not even him but he’d like to think she likes him a little bit more than a stranger.
And he tried not to rush right up to her and drag her away from all the people staring at her because he didn’t want her to think he was trying to keep her all for himself. Even though he most certainly is and he will continue to do so until she knows that he’d do anything short of giving her the moon. But he doesn’t want to overcrowd her. So, he’ll let her have her fun for now. 
That lasted for all of ten minutes. Because a guy, who is not even remotely her type by the way, walked up to her and Maya as they poured themselves drinks and he was touchy right away. Harry knew that wasn’t (Y/N)’s favorite thing so he promptly got rejected by both her and Maya. He silently cheered to himself, trying to stay out of her line of vision so she doesn’t know he’s watching her yet. He doesn’t exactly want her to know he’s there. Just because he wants to see what she’ll do. If she really is interested in someone else. If she really would hook up with someone else while he’s not there. 
Not that he has any claims on her but he can’t lie and say he wouldn’t be crushed if he found out something like that. Just as another loser walked up to (Y/N), he was dragged away by one of his frat brothers, Brett to the backyard. Apparently, he doesn’t know how to change the fucking keg. But Harry just wants to know how the keg is empty in the first place. 
It took much longer than he anticipated. Everyone was in the way and they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing so he was pretty much clenching his fists the entire way back into the party. If he sees (Y/N), everything will feel so much better. He walked in expecting to catch a glimpse of her still talking with Maya and smiling the same pretty smile she always has on. But that is not at all what happened. 
He didn’t see (Y/N) anywhere. And while he tried not to be so panicked searching around for her, he was totally shoving people out of the way and apologizing after. He saw Maya flirting with another guy but (Y/N) was nowhere in sight. So he thought the absolute worst. Someone had taken her upstairs while he was gone and now she’s probably having the time of her life with someone else. Well, he wouldn’t go that far but she thinks she’s enjoying herself. She’s not. 
Harry doesn’t want to completely overdo this. He doesn’t want to kick every last door in until he finds her and rip someone off of her. But he doesn’t see another way around it. So, he stomped up the stairs and when he got to the first door, he shoved it open, not caring one bit. 
“Sorry.” He wasn’t. It was a random couple about to have their own fun but it wasn’t (Y/N). He kept searching. He was just about to push another door open when he heard her laugh. It was muffled by a door but he still heard it when there had been a lucky break in the music. And now he’s fucking fuming. Because not only does whoever is in that room think they’re about to sleep with her, but they’re making her laugh too? Not on his fucking watch.
He couldn’t wait anymore. He had to shove the door open and see what the hell was going on in there. When the door swung open, she gasped and he was a little confused. 
There was no one in the room with her and she was sat at the edge of the bed with her phone in her hands. He still gave the room a once over, making sure he didn’t miss something. But she really was in here on her own. 
“What are you doing?” 
(Y/N) is not eager to admit that she left in the middle of a party to a vacant room to watch funny cat videos but she doesn’t think that Harry will expect anything less from her. So she just shrugged, leaving that part out. 
“Bored,” She watched as he walked closer and then knelt right down in front of her only to lay his head in her lap and wrap his arms around her. Now she’s confused but she didn’t bother saying anything about it. “You okay?” 
“Mhm.” He rested his cheek on her bare thigh and took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. He’s never felt so relieved. When he pushed that door open, he had no idea what he’d be walking into, he’s just glad it was (Y/N) and she was alone. 
“Want to see something funny?” She held her phone down by his face and showed him the video that made her laugh. It was just a cat chasing a laser and it was the first one that came up when she searched “funny cat videos” but it made her laugh. And it made him chuckle a little bit so she’ll call that a win. 
“You’re silly. Ready to get out of here?” He sat up a little bit to meet her eyes and she nodded. 
“Yes, please.” 
It was like they made plans without actually making the plans. Because Harry and (Y/N) walked hand in hand out of the party and she waved to Maya on their way out, silently letting her know where she’d be for the rest of the night and all Maya did was raise a cup at her. 
With their hands still intertwined, he led her in the direction of her apartment, even though his house was much closer. 
“There’s a party at the house tonight so we can go to yours if you’d rather do that.” She nodded, feeling his thumb rub over the back of her hand. She was slightly curious about that but she let it go, saving it for later though. 
Harry had never been in her apartment, so she was a bit nervous about him seeing her room for the first time. It wasn’t a total mess, thankfully, so when he did come in and sit on the bed, she didn’t have to be concerned about it. 
“This is, um, this is me.” 
“Cute.” 
She could feel her skin getting hot. It may just be her brain getting ahead and jumping the gun, knowing that something is going to happen, she just doesn’t know what. 
Sitting next to him on her bed, she twiddled her thumbs, trying not to appear so eager. But they don’t really have to do anything physical, having him here is enough for her. 
“Are you hungry?” 
“Not particularly.” 
“Oh.” 
She tried to think of something else for them to do. But nothing was really coming to mind. 
“I have a few movies I’ve been wanting to watch, we could do that—”
“Please just be quiet and ride me already, will you?” Harry didn’t mean to be so blunt about it, but she was clearly dancing around them fucking and his cock was already starting to get hard in his pants. 
“Oh. Okay. I’ve never done that though.”
“I know, pet. Come on,” They both stood up so they could undress. (Y/N) was a bit shy about taking her top off but Harry just plucked at the tied string and pulled it down her arms. “There. Pretty. I’ll lay down first, okay?” 
She nodded, watching as he laid back into her pillows in just his boxers. He got comfortable and then patted his lap. 
“I’ve got a condom in the pocket of my jeans. This isn’t like the pornos you watch. Safety first,” She rolled her eyes to herself and picked up his jeans. “Hury.” 
Harry didn’t exactly plan on this part either and that’s not why he had a condom, he was just feeling hopeful and it paid off. 
She found the condom and a few moments later was sitting in his lap, trying not to think about how hard he was under her. 
“Now what?” 
“You’re probably already dripping all over, so we won’t have to do much there, will we?” 
“Hey—”
“I’m this fucking close to making a mess of my underwear, so I think we’ll just stretch you out a bit and I’ll let you try it. Is that good? Since you’re probably in a rush again.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. 
“I’m not in a rush. I just can’t wait for you to be inside me again.” She blurted out, causing a smirk to rise on his face. 
“Interesting. Sounds like the definition of in a rush to me. Maybe go pick up your pocket dictionary and get back to me on that.” 
“Can I just try? Please. I don’t need you to stretch me out, I can take it, I promise.” (Y/N) didn’t wait for another one of his smart responses, she just molded her mouth to his and tried to get him to shut up for a second. “And I don’t even have a pocket dictionary.” 
“Sure you don’t. Fine,” He muttered against her mouth and she smiled, sitting back on his thighs and waiting for him to tell her what to do. “It’s only your second time (Y/N). Who knew you’d be such a cockwhore.” 
She shushed him, sitting up slightly so he could push the band of his briefs down. As soon as she caught sight of him, she was reminded of nearly two weeks ago when that was in her mouth and he told her she was making him feel so good. She never thought she’d be good at it but clearly she was wrong. 
“This goes on, right?” She held up the condom and he nodded, taking it from her hands to tear open the packaging. And then he handed it back to her. 
“Go ahead.” 
“But how do I—” He took it back from her and pulled it out, showing it to her and then placing it correctly over him. 
“Just pull it down, okay? It’s easy.” She tried and he winced immediately. “Can your hands get any colder, christ.” 
“I didn’t know!” She laughed a little but managed to get the condom over him completely. He shook his head and set his hands on her hips. 
“Are you ready?” 
“Yes.” 
He helped her lift up so she was hovering over him and he held her there until she just started to press down on him. And ever since the last time she was right here in this situation, she’d been chasing the feeling. To be as full as she was and for him to make her feel like she’d never felt before. (Y/N) should’ve known from the start that she was ruined for anyone else. 
But now that he’s completely inside of her, she has a tiny idea what to do, but she is kind of lost and doesn’t want to do anything wrong. Or hurt him because she has heard of that happening. 
“Can I move?” 
“Oh. I thought you were waiting until the new year,” He shot her a look. “Of course you can move. What’s wrong?” 
“Will it… hurt you?”
“No, love. You’re already fucking squeezing me, I’m not going to last long anyway.” 
“Oh, sorry.” She tried to relax so maybe she wasn’t “squeezing” him, but all he did was pinch her waist and shake his head. 
“Felt good. Why are you saying sorry?” 
“I don’t know.” 
“Don’t be afraid you’re going to break my dick. It’s fine, I promise,” He rubbed his hands up and down her thighs and then nodded at her. “You can move now. Need help?” 
“Yes, please.” 
“You feel okay and everything?” 
“So good.” 
“Good. Just move up a little and come back down. Not hard, right?” She did as he asked and when she came back down on him, she gasped. Because she hadn’t expected it to feel like that. “That’s it. Keep going.” 
His hands rested on the underside of her thighs to keep her steady while she tried to stay at a nice pace. She could tell that he was enjoying himself from his hooded eyes and the way he kept groaning softly. 
“Am I doing okay?” 
“More than. Try to go a little faster.” This time she placed each of her hands on his chest to help push herself up. She knew that she was probably going slower than he wanted, but she was really trying her best. 
Her legs were already starting to burn and she hasn’t been on top of him for more than five minutes. But there is not one part of her that wants to stop, even if her legs are aching already. 
She really liked being over top of him. It was so different from last time and it felt much different too. Like he was pressed against that one spot deep inside of that only he could reach. And he had given her all control to whatever she pleased with him. 
“My legs hurt.” She only mentioned it because she thought that he might want to take over. Just in case she wasn’t doing it how he wanted, but instead, he tsked at her. 
“Told you I was too big. But you don’t listen.”
“You’re not that big—”
“Hey. Watch your mouth, sweetheart. I’m being really nice to you and letting you get off on my dick and you just insulted me,” He patted her hip gently and sat up a bit. “Kiss first and then I’ll help you a little bit. I know you’re just kidding.” 
She tried not to kiss him so sloppily but she couldn’t help it. Right as their mouths touched, he was slamming her down on him repeatedly. Enough for her to feel like she was going limp. Hanging onto his shoulders was the only thing keeping her upright. 
(Y/N) hopes that Maya will not be home anytime soon with noises she’s making. She sure it’s obnoxious and probably over the top but she can’t help it. She’ll never live it down if Maya comes in and hears her. 
“Harry—” She was barely doing anything anymore, he was moving her the way he wanted and it felt so good, she couldn’t help digging her nails into his back or the fact that her eyes kept falling shut. 
“You’re so good, (Y/N). Cum for me now.” And she had no choice not to because she was so close to the edge before he even touched. Just the thought of having him had her already halfway there. 
With the sound that (Y/N) just let out, she’s sure that the neighbors know exactly what’s going on by now. And she would feel bad but if any one of them had a chance to be in her position, they would’ve done the same. 
He carefully laid them back, still not quite pulling out of her yet and she sighed, resting her cheek on his arm. 
“I need to just lay here for a second. I can’t move.” He chuckled, brushing her hair back. 
“That’s fine.” He kissed her forehead and rested his other arm over her waist. 
“Did you, um, you know?” She tilted her head up to look at him and he shook his head. 
“What ever are you referring to?” She whined at him, hiding her face away in his chest. He knew precisely what she meant, he just wanted her to say it. 
“You know what I mean!” 
“I came like ten minutes ago, I couldn’t hold it anymore. You’re too pretty.” His hand came down to lift her chin so they could meet eyes and he kissed her once. And then two more times, unable to stop himself. 
“Will you stay?” 
“Yeah. You were going to have to kick me out if you wanted me to leave.” She shook her head at him before snuggling back into his chest. 
“We have class tomorrow.” She reminded him and he shrugged. 
“We’ll skip and stay right here all day long.” Harry knows that (Y/N) has probably never skipped a class ever but she’s probably so far ahead on the syllabus, she could miss a month of class and still have a perfect GPA. 
“I don’t know about that, but I only have two classes tomorrow so maybe—”
“Please, pet? I’ll take such good care of you here if you stay. I’m sure Maya can get your notes for you.” 
“I don’t know.” She trailed off. It wouldn’t be terrible if she missed a day. There wasn’t much going on except for exam review that she already knew forward and backwards. And it was true. Maya could fill her in on whatever happened in class if she decided to stay in with Harry. The idea is sounding more appealing the more he pouts at her. 
“Come on, baby. You deserve a break. I’ll help you study tomorrow, okay?” 
“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, pulling her closer to him and tangling his legs with hers. He really liked how cozy her room was and he had no plans to leave it tomorrow so he really needs (Y/N) to be on board. Because if he has to leave her side tomorrow, he doesn’t know if he’ll survive.
There was something (Y/N) had been thinking about ever since they were on their way to her apartment and she just can’t get it out of her head. So she has to ask him and see what his answer is. Because it will say a lot without asking too bluntly. 
“If there was a party there, why did you come all the way to that other one?” Harry knows that (Y/N) asks excellent questions. She’s so smart and pretty and she’s basically making him spell it out for her. 
“I knew you would be at that one so I came there. I had to see you,” She felt herself smile, really liking his answer. She’s so glad he did because she wanted to see him too, even though she was trying to convince herself she didn’t earlier. Now she feels like she could spill her guts to him and she wouldn’t have to be embarrassed about it all. Because it’s pretty clear that her feelings are being reciprocated. “If you couldn’t tell already, I’m crazy about you and I want to take you out sometime. So please say yes because my stomach hurts right now.” 
She laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She’s glad that he finally said it out loud and she doesn’t have to guess anymore. And while she could’ve said something first, she’s just happy that one of them did, so the back and forth can stop. 
“I’d love to. And I really, really like you too.” He sighed in relief and kissed her cheek just like she did to his. 
“Good.” 
“How’s your stomach now?” 
“Be quiet. It’s better.” She couldn’t help smiling again because it’s like everything is falling into place. And it came completely out of nowhere. But she’s thankful that things turned out the way they did. 
“Can I kiss you again?” 
“I’d die if you didn’t.” 
“That’s a little overdramatic, do you know that?”
“And you’re not leaving this room for a long, long time. Do you know that?” She rolled her eyes but she was obviously okay with that. She wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else. “You’re mine tomorrow?” 
“Fine.” She pecked his lips twice but that wasn’t enough for him so he rolled over on top of her, making her laugh and go back to kissing him. 
Just like last time, Harry is fucked. But in the best way possible. Because he has (Y/N) here now and he’s not letting her get away without letting her know how much he adores her. He hopes he gets to tell her for the rest of his life, but for now, they’ll just see how it goes. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Damn. I hope you liked it!!! Sorry this is all over the place, I’m sleepy ☺️ but thank you for reading!
tags: @vamprry @1un4zsq @marzhshaim @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @idrawshapesonpeople07 @me-undiscovered @llina01 @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @sceleratuspoeta @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @honeyharlows @satellitelh @daphnesutton @tfharries @opheliaofficial07 @hermionelove @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @theofficialprongs @myloveforrreadingspost @harryshousewhore @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @buckyssbestgirl @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @allabouthappiness @madilee7802
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harrysfolklore · 2 months
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hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb
that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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The night had been one for the books.
Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.
He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.
Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.
Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.
"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.
"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"
Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.
It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.
"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."
"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."
"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."
The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.
"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."
Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.
Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.
You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.
And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.
And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.
“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.
“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.
Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.
"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.
"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.
"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”
You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.
"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"
You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.
"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."
The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.
"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."
Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.
"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.
"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."
The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.
"Home it is, then."
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