#1d blurbs

[lazysoulwriter]

menace to society – harry styles . ✦

content: chaotic couple energy, pda, teasing, public mischief, soft!harry behind it all

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The thing about dating Harry Styles was that people expected charm. Grace. Mystery, maybe. Something refined and a little poetic.

What they didn’t expect? You.

You—his loud-mouthed, snort-laughing, lip-gloss-wearing girlfriend with an attitude and a complete disregard for appropriate public behavior. And, somehow, the absolute love of his life.

It starts with you dragging him into a photo booth at a random LA diner at 11pm, both of you tipsy on milkshakes and fries. He tries to behave, poses with a shy little smirk for the first photo—but then you lick his neck in the second one, and he’s gone. There’s no recovery from that. The third frame is a mess of teeth and hands and your laughter echoing way too loud for the sleepy place you’re in.

He has the strip of photos in his wallet to this day.

Then there’s the incident at Whole Foods.

Harry’s just trying to get oat milk. That’s all he wanted. Oat milk.

But you’re pushing the cart and suddenly you’re leaning in, whispering in his ear, “If you bend over like that again in those pants, I will climb you like a tree in aisle seven.”

He chokes on air. Knocks over a box of granola bars. An old lady gasps. You grin like the devil.

Later that day, you’re walking down Melrose hand in hand, and you keep pulling him into alleys to “make out like teenagers.” You make him hold your leg up against a brick wall. Harry can’t stop giggling, hiding behind his sunglasses as if they make you both less obvious. The paparazzi photos are wild. You’re labeled “the menace.” Harry’s grinning in every single one.

At a dinner party, you slide your hand under the table and trace your name on his thigh while maintaining a perfectly polite conversation with Olivia Wilde. Harry nearly knocks over his wine glass when your fingers go a little too high. “Can’t take you anywhere,” he hisses, cheeks red, eyes dark.

“Then stop taking me,” you shrug, licking dessert off your spoon like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

But the truth? He lives for it. For you.

You with your shameless affection and chaotic flirting and your need to pull him into dressing rooms just to "check how the lighting looks on your outfit while he's inside."

You are a menace.

And Harry Styles is happily your accomplice.

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✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work.

© lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[uhuhmaries]

The Tension Between Us

Summary: You approach Harry Styles as a fan while in Tokyo on a girls trip just for a moment, but Harry doesn’t let it stay innocent. There’s something about the way he says your name, like he already knew it—he’s not done with you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

Word Count: I honestly have no idea. +/- 2k???

Warnings: smut (18+), unprotected sex mention (condom removed mid), breeding kink, size kink, age gap tension, dirty talk, mild degradation, power imbalance, emotional cheating (reader has a situationship), public setting lead-up, alcohol mention (light), reader is a fan, emotionally confusing hookup.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

He’s right there.

A few tables away, in a dim-lit Tokyo bar tucked inside a luxury hotel your group definitely wasn’t meant to find. But your friend spotted his bodyguard first, whispered his name like it was a spell, and now… here you are.

He’s got his curls pushed back, a silk shirt unbuttoned far enough to make you forget how to blink, and a drink in one hand that’s barely touched. He’s laughing at something a friend said, but it’s casual, like he’s used to people noticing. Like he knows you’re watching.

“Go say hi,” one of your friends dares, nudging you with her elbow.

“No way,” you say—but your feet are already moving.

You don’t plan to say much… Just “Hi,” maybe “Big fan,” maybe “Can I get a picture?” and then you’ll disappear back into the crowd and let your friends scream about how close you got. You tell yourself it’s harmless. You have someone back home anyway… whatever that means lately.

You’re halfway through your polite smile when he looks up.

And you freeze. Because Harry Styles doesn’t just glance… he sees. Eyes trailing down, then back up, like he’s tasting the air around you.

“Hi,” you say. Voice too soft.

He leans forward slightly, lips quirking. “Hi.”

“I—I didn’t wanna interrupt. Just wanted to say I love your music. Big fan.”

He smiles, slow and wicked. “You sure that’s all you wanted to say?”

Your throat tightens. He says it like you came for something else. Like he’s already undressing the idea of you in his head.

You laugh awkwardly. “I should get back to my friends—”

“Wait,” he says quickly. “What’s your name?”

You hesitate.

“…(Y/N).”

He repeats it. Testing it. Letting it roll off his tongue like it’s something sacred. “(Y/N)… That’s nice.”

“I really should—”

“You can leave,” he says, tilting his head. “But if you do, I’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what your voice sounds like when you’re not being polite.”

Your breath hitches. You hadn’t expected him to say something so direct—so honest. Especially not to you. A fan. A stranger in a city far from home.

“I really shouldn’t. I have… a relationship—well, situationship, back home.”

You offer a small, unsure smile. “Still, it’s surreal meeting you. Thank you for being so kind.”

His gaze softens. That crooked smile doesn’t fade.

“I respect that. And if I came off too strong, I apologize.” He shrugs. “You’re just… stunning. He’s lucky. Hopefully he knows it.”

He offers his hand. You take it, briefly, then you walk back toward your booth.

By the time you’re on your fourth drink, you’re staring into the glass and thinking about how unlucky your situationship really is. How he never really listens. How he rolls his eyes at your passions. Never once hyped you up, supported your ideas, or made you feel fully seen.

Harry did all of that with a single conversation.

You glance toward where he’s still sitting, now talking to someone else, but his gaze flicks toward you anyway. Brief. Charged.

You feel it in your chest.

And just like that…

You never make it back to your friends.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

The hotel elevator ride is short but sinful. He stands behind you, close enough that your back almost touches his chest, and his voice slides against your ear like silk dipped in heat.

“Thought you were just a fan with a situationship, sweetheart,” he teases.

“I thought this is the benefit of being one, isn’t it? Your ego is probably so big right now,” you reply coyly. That earns you a tight grip on your waist by the one and only, Mr. Harry Styles.

“You’re cute. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight.” He murmurs, lips grazing your neck as he inhales your perfume like it’s a drug he’s just discovered.

When the door opens, he doesn’t ask. Just leads you by walking in while his hand still sits on your waist while caressing it.

His hotel suite feels like it doesn’t belong on this planet.

Neither do his hands as he starts unbuttoning your dress from behind while kissing the curve of your neck, murmuring filth that makes your knees threaten to give out.

“You nervous?” he asks, palm skimming your thigh.

You nod slowly.

“You were pretty bold a minute ago,” he murmurs, voice low and amused as he walks you backward to the bed. He sits first, spreading his legs, then tugs you between them, guiding you down onto his thigh.

The pressure of him under you is already making your mind static. “Yes, Harry. I am nervous,” you admit, fingertips gliding up the back of his neck, playing with his necklace chain resting against his collarbones. “But also… I’ve dreamt about this for a long time.”

That earns you a low groan.

His hands settle on your hips, grounding you. “You’re trouble. You know that, right?” he mutters against your throat. “I hope you realize I’m gonna make you forget every name but mine.”

And he does.

You’re naked and under him in minutes.

Your legs are already trembling and he hasn’t even given you his cock yet. His mouth traces a path down your chest, your stomach, lower… slow, unhurried. Fingers slide into your panties, then inside you, and he groans at how wet you already are.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, looking up from between your thighs. “You get this needy just from a few kisses? Don’t know how that boy back home’s been surviving.”

Your hips twitch. Your breath stutters. You’re not sure what to say. You don’t want to say his name. You don’t want to think about anything but Harry’s mouth.

Your legs fall open wider for him instinctively, but Harry isn’t satisfied until he’s got them hooked over his shoulders—mouth locked on your clit like he owns it. His tongue works you over with slow, punishing precision, lips wrapped around you as if he’s starved for it.

You barely register the moment he pulls away, breathless and glistening with you, only to strip his shirt off in one swift motion, then his pants, slow like he wants you to watch. You do. You can’t look away. Your eyes trail across every tattoo inked into his skin, each one telling its own story, each one only making the ache between your legs worse.

He catches your stare and smirks.

“Like what you see?”

You only manage a breathy nod, already reaching for him.

“I want the whole city to hear you,” he growls, sliding a finger in deeper. “Let them know who’s making you feel this good.”

Your moan breaks the silence like glass.

He talks you through it.

“You’re so small,” he mutters, tearing off a condom and sliding it on his cock, then quickly lining himself up after you’ve begged for it.

“Gonna take me so well, though. You’re made for this.” You whimper when he presses in slowly—stretching you, filling you with an ache that borders on unbearable. He hushes you through it, mouth at your ear, hands guiding your thighs higher.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos. “There you go. Good fucking girl. So tight. So fuckin’ tight for me.” The stretch makes your vision blur. He’s thick, bigger than anyone you’ve had before. And of course, he knows it. Using it so well.

You wrap your legs around him instinctively and he pauses, breath sharp against your cheek. You try to stay quiet. Civilized. But neither of you were built for restraint.

Not when he starts thrusting slow and deep. Not when he kisses your throat and moans into your skin, “This pussy’s too good. Gonna ruin me.”

And especially not when he groans:

“Fuck, I could fill you up so deep. Get you so full of me and I will be cleaning you up afterwards.”

You moan—loud and desperate as your body clenches around him involuntarily, and Harry groans through gritted teeth. He stills, then pulls out just enough to slide the condom off with shaking hands, tossing it aside like it’s the last thing on his mind.

“Harry—” you breathe out, voice barely a whisper, heart pounding against your ribs so hard it hurts. You’re not sure if it’s adrenaline, fear, or the heat of finally having him like this.

“I know,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours. “It’s not right. I know.”

But his voice drops lower, filthier. “Still… fuck, if you could see how pretty you’d look dripping with me.”

Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

And then he’s pushing in—slow, deliberate. Watching the way he disappears inside you like he wants to burn the image into his brain. His fingers tighten on your waist, eyes flickering between your face and the stretch.

You’re too full. Too overwhelmed. But you don’t dare stop him.

Not now.

Not when every second of it feels like sin you never want to be forgiven for.

Your walls flutter around him like your body’s answering back.

It’s almost too much.

He presses your thighs up, holding you open like you’re something fragile and filthy at once. His thrusts go deeper. Rougher. Your cries spill out freely now.

“Taking it so well, baby,” he pants. “Such a good girl. Letting me stretch this sweet cunt like it’s mine.”

You’re already unraveling when he says, “You feel that? That’s how deep I am. Fuck. I should stop before I make a mess inside you.”

“… Come inside me, Styles,” you gasp out, wrecked and breathless, your body trembling as you try to hold off your release, even while he pounds into you harder, deeper each thrust making you cry out louder than the last.

“Fuck, (Y/N)!” he snarls, head thrown back. “You can’t just say shit like that—”

But it’s too late. The second those words leave your lips, he loses it.

You both do.

You break first—legs shaking, walls fluttering around him as your orgasm hits like a wave crashing through you. He follows a split second later with a broken groan, hips slamming into yours one last time as he spills inside you, deep and heavy and unrelenting.

Even through the haze, you feel him twitch, feel every thick pulse of it.

And neither of you can bring yourselves to move.

Not yet.

Not when it feels this good to fall apart together.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

You’re both quiet after. Tangled in the sheets, soaked in sweat and something too real.

His hand lazily strokes your hip as you stare at the ceiling.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

You turn your head, meeting his eyes. “What now? Like… how do I do this?”

He exhales a laugh—low, breathless, bittersweet.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll figure it out.”

But his thumb keeps drawing circles into your skin like he already knows it’s not over.

Not by a long shot.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

📝 Author’s Note:

……. This got way too long and wild than what I had in mind. This was supposed to be a one-night fan fantasy. a tokyo slip-up but I definitely can see a few more chapters of this or just leave it as is. Let me know if you want part two. I kinda already know what harry does the morning after 😵‍💫💌

Ps. This is actually my first time writing again after more or less 8 years!!!! Wild. (I’m jobless now so I got more time).

Second Part: https://www.tumblr.com/uhuhmaries/785944844429361152/if-it-lingers-why-leave

[lilystyles]

you are in love.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note PART FOUR!!! sorry it took so long to update, i think i'll have to do a fifth chapter to wrap up how i want!! please forgive me by enjoying all this filthy smut and hopefully more from me soon. i'd love some feedback or suggestions for part five so drop them in the asks angels. XX

brief description y/n is living her teenage dream, and despite the snow harry has never felt so warm.

warnings! slight age gap, smut (f! receiving, sex, daddy kink, slight choking, m! receiving, all the usual! romantic asf thoooo) kissing, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. (wordcount: 13k!!)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

It was late on a Thursday night, and the evening sky was a dark blanket over the world. Everyone was asleep, including the sun.

Y/n’s street was silent. The suburban area was normally loud due to the streets of houses full of loud University students, but tonight, they had left it like a ghost town, and the evening air was eerily silent. Outside the large brick home, the stars twinkled above the streets and clean-cut yards. Tonight’s half-crescent moon shone down through Y/n’s big window as she slept peacefully in bed.

Her face was soft like a cherub, lips tugged in a pout, long lashes kissing at her cheeks. She looked beautiful, even now in the middle of a deep slumber as soft snores escaped her. Tonight, she had fallen asleep early at eight PM like a little kid, so worn out from the past few weeks, she’d had exam after exam, assignments due, and so many lectures to attend. She had one class tomorrow, her Psych class, and was mentally preparing to deal with the lunatic lecturer by having an early night. He was seriously unhinged, and a really harsh-grader.

Y/n had been dreaming of hazy roses and swirls of flannelette shirts, and oddly the smell of vanilla, mint, and tobacco overtook her senses despite being fast asleep, just moments before she woke up with a gasp. 

A chill ran up her spine, god it was freezing in here. Startled and still confused as to whether or not she was dreaming she opened her eyes. A loud bang on her window had been what woke her. 

Oh god! Is this like horror movies where the hot young university student gets murdered by a masked man? 

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the possibility. She sat up knuckling her eyes messily, and peering down from her window. On her knees, she was just tall enough to see what had made the noise, which was probably stupid of her to do. Because if it really was some axe murderer with a thing for sleeping girls they’d see her.

With a confused, tired smile, she realised it wasn’t a murderer. No, it was her boyfriend, Harry.

Looking over at her alarm clock it read 1:47 AM. She scratched her head looking down at him. He was standing down by the front yard, a red flannel shirt over his form, under a big football jacket from the Uni team, and considering it was freezing Y/n wondered how he wasn’t shivering in just those few layers. 

She thought for a moment that this would be a fond memory of him, one she might tell her children about her first proper boyfriend, her first love. The boy next door. She opened the window, leaning out, and instantly felt cold howling wind pelt her skin. 

“Styles! What are doing?!” She whisper-shouted. Not wanting to wake her roommates who were all probably awake studying for final exams anyway. 

She must be dreaming, because when he saw her this smile overtook his face, dimples popping and pink landing on his cheeks as he lifted his hand to show a bundle of red roses. A big pink bow wrapped around them and his tattooed hand gripped them tightly.

He looked like something of her dreams, she’d wished for a romance like this, spending nights cooped up reading about boys like Harry who made romantic gestures in the middle of the night. Wishing for a life all as magical as those fairytales. One full of excitement and passion, but also one that was real. She always felt real around Harry.

“Trouble, get some shoes on!” He whispered back lifting his arms dramatically, the jacket straining against his muscles.

She furrowed her brows. “Do you realise what time it is, Crazy?”

Harry smiled up at her, god he’d be the death of her, that smile. It made her stomach curl dangerously, butterflies rippling inside her. “Just get some shoes on, and something warm. C’mon, Baby, thought y’were a bad girl now.” He teased, thinking back to that night in the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes at him shutting the window, as she tried to quietly potter around her room. Finding her pale pink tracksuit pants on her floor, and a thick matching crewneck, she left her thin white singlet on underneath, putting on a random long-sleeve from the floor over it, and the knickers she’d gone to sleep in. Before digging around to find the Ugg boot that paired with the one in her hand.

When she was ready she snuck downstairs and outside. Harry perked up at the sound of gravel crunching. 

Y/n, god she was pretty. His heart thumped heart, heat creeping up his neck at the sight of her.

Hair in a long plait at the back of her head, skin all soft from her skincare, and a puddle of pink covering her, and despite the faux-frown on her face he knew she was excited to see him as he was to see her. He rushed over pulling her into a hug close to his chest. She smelled good, like the lavender spray she used on her bed for a good night’s sleep, and he planted a kiss on her head.

Picking her up in the hug and spinning her around. “Hi, Trouble.”

Feet off the ground she squealed quietly in surprise. He was so warm, and he smelt so good.

She looked up at him as he slowly placed her back onto her feet, arms still around his neck. Grabbing the flowers he offered to her as a pink rushed up her neck, “You are crazy, Styles, what are you even doing here?”

“I missed you, what was I supposed to do?” He said leaning down close, and Y/n brushed their noses together, before standing on the tips of her toes as she connected their lips. His firm grip on her waist fell to the curve of her plump ass. Squeezing her closer into his firm chest and warmth.

It was a chaste, gentle kiss, she hadn’t seen him since the weekend of that party. They’d called every day since though. 

When she pulled away, a big grin overtook her face, one of his hands fell into hers as he pulled her down to where his car was. Opening the door for her, he made sure she was tucked inside before gently shutting it and walking around the other door. Y/n noticed in his little cup holder her pink scrunchie was there and a strawberry lip mask she’d lost was sitting beside it.

She placed her flowers on the backseat. They looked like he’d stolen them from someone’s garden, in true Harry fashion, he had from their snooty neighbour.

Harry slid inside the driver’s seat and started the engine. It was freezing, the middle of winter, and if not for him she would never have stepped foot out into the bleak winter night. The car was warm already from him driving over.

“Are you some sort of pervert creep stalker or summat? What you got all this for, Styles? A shrine for me.” She said pointing to her little spot of things in the cupholder.

He rolled his eyes looking at her with a sassy expression. “Just returning them to my girlfriend, thanks,”

She was still getting used to those words slipping from his filthy rotten mouth. Harry noticed her flustered face and laughed. 

“What? Since I can’t tell everyone yet, I’m gonna boast as much as I can even if it’s just with you.”

She slid her hand into his as he drove down the street heading to, well, Y/n didn’t know where. With this boy? She’d never know what he had planned. “I can’t believe I have a boyfriend now,”

He giggled and stared ahead, but his hand squeezed hers. “Can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard. Was certain I’d never have a chance with you.”

Y/n let out a scoff. “You’re joking, you knew how much I fancied you growing up, Styles.”

He looked over at her. “Well, everyone fancied me.”

She slapped his arm, and he laughed. “Sorry, Trouble, but it’s true…anyway Em made it very clear I wasn’t allowed to engage with you. No matter how much I wanted to.”

She looked over him, in disbelief at what these past few weeks held for them. Harry Styles, her boyfriend was sharing his feelings with her, and it wasn’t even that weird to be with him. Actually, it felt pretty fucking perfect.

“So you chose to act like a foul-mouthed, prick?” She fired back raising her brows argumentatively.

He nodded, biting his lip and smirking, before looking at her for a second to see her face. “At least I got t’talk to you, and admit it Baby, y’pretty fucking sexy when you’re pissed with me.”

She scoffed at him. “And you’re dumb.”

He looked over for a second longer than he should��ve considering he was behind the wheel. “Don’t they say loves make you dumb, Trouble?”

Y/n felt her tummy curl. Love? Surely he hadn’t meant it like that. The car fell silent a soft eighties love song playing on the car speakers as Y/n melted into the leather passenger seat. She was tired, but the excitement of whatever Harry had planned had her too restless to nap. Anyway, it only took around 30 or so minutes of Harry cruising through windy back roads before the surprise was revealed.

She looked over at him, to find him already peering over at her. As she gasped out breathily. 

“...The beach?”

She looked out at the dark scene. The waves were deep, crashing, and wild. The reflection of the moon was a sombre scene across the almost black-looking ocean, and the chilly air made it seem all the more beautiful of a landscape. She’d been here before, many times. During most Summer holidays she would be invited to stay with the Styles at their beach house that was not far from here, maybe another two-minute drive or so. This beach held memories of countless afternoons sunbaking and reading, sunrises with Em, and a handful of beach bonfires mostly ending with Harry and Y/n taking care of Emma together.

She’d never been here during winter before, having never been here without the Styles to accompany her. It felt different now, and exciting to be here with just Harry. It was one of her fantasies. She’d had many nights where she laid awake in the twin bed of the beach house next to a snoring Emma dreaming of a romantic moment with Harry. Clinging to the crumbs of affection he gave her…a hand graze hers, a tug on her hair, a pat on the shoulder. She spun her own story of them being something but never imagined it would actually happen.

She turned to Harry, and once again she had to fight off the urge to pinch herself out of this unbelievably magical dream.

“What are we doing here?”

Harry smiled his hand landing on her knee, a welcome warmth during the cold of the night. “I was looking through m’camera roll and I found this photo of you and Em sunbaking right before I dumped a bucket of water all over y’both. Remember?”

She placed her hand on his admiring how large, veiny, and muscular it was. She’d always loved his hands. Tonight he had only his signet ring which was a family heirloom, on his pinky. She stroked it with her finger.

“Of course I do. Remember when we got our revenge?”

He rolled his eyes. “Was you’re idea wasn’t it, Trouble?

She grinned thinking back to the memory. It was a hazy blur of vibrant colours and laughs. That summer they were fourteen and Harry was sixteen, they’d all gotten up to lots of mischief that summer.

The whole time he had been obsessing over this girl who worked at the local cinema. When he’d finally managed to land a date, the girls had wreaked absolute havoc as revenge. He’d spent all afternoon picking out his outfit, fixing his hair to be perfect, and even shaved his slight stubble. The whole family teased him about how excited he was.

They’d been swimming in the pool when he came out to ask Emma if he could borrow her bike to ride to meet Cinema Girl at the ice cream shop. They’d been taking a break to sunbathe on the concrete in the sun when he came over to them.

Emma stood up and so did Y/n, they’d already devised their plan and were ready to take action. Y/n likes to pretend her interest in the ruining of his date had been all revenge-orientated but she knew deep down she was jealous of the curvy blonde surfer girl who was older than her who Harry had been drooling over. When Emma was the first to dive at him pushing him dangerously close to the pool, Y/n knew she needed to join her to knock his suddenly strong body into the water.

She remembers the way his hands clawed at her bare back, in hopes of pulling himself back up, but it was too late. He fell in with a big splash and an angry shout at the pair of them. Laughing so hard they clutched their stomachs when he resubmerged and the way the water fell over his head pathetically. The perfect curls on his head had been ruined, his white shirt soaked, shoes and all.

It was when he lifted himself out of the water absolute murder in his eyes that they finally fled the crime scene. Sprinting through the house and when his loud running was close by, they screamed heading through the front door. Y/n remembers running down the street in just a bikini, all wet, feet bare and as she squealed forgetting how fast Harry was when he wanted to be. Emma who was all legs and spindly back then was off miles ahead and was far from the pair of them. He’d caught Y/n with ease, arms coming around her waist and yanking her back.

“You are so dead, Trouble,”

It ended with him carrying her over his shoulder, hands dangerously close to her bum, and chucking her into the deep end of the pool. But she didn’t care, because after all that he cancelled the date and stayed in to watch Dirty Dancing with all of the girls. Anne, Gem, Em, and her. She noticed the way he smiled at the ending, and she dreamily contemplated if they’d ever have a movie-like dance scene.

She just smirked at him coming back to the present. “I was always the brains behind the operation.”

He eyed her, eyes hooded, “Y’think I didn’t know that?”

She felt herself blush. God, she had such a crush on her boyfriend.

“...Wanna go for a walk?” He asked, turning the engine off, and pulling her back to reality.

She nodded. “Of course. Do you have any other clothes to rug up?”

He looked in his backseat and grabbed a woollen blanket. “I came prepared for you.”

She smiled unbuckling her seatbelt as they stepped outside, the wind was freezing. Harry locked the car and walked around to her it was deserted here. Middle of the night, in the middle of English winter, so that wasn’t surprising.

He handed her the blanket and she wrapped it over her shoulders grabbing his arm and gripping his bicep. He leaned close to her as they walked down the beach. Sand slowed them down, as they walked slowly, listening to the waves crash.

Then she felt a cold speckle hit her face, and she looked up. “Styles, it’s snowing,”

“Oh, wow, it is.” He replied looking up at the snow, then down at her. Flecks caught in her lashes, and he leaned down to wipe them away. Cupping her face in his warm hands.

“You look so beautiful right now, Y/n.”

Y/n blushed, lifting her hand to cover her face. “No, I don’t I look all…sleepy,”

“You always look perfect, Trouble.” He replied, softly, his voice all gravelly. “Don’t hide from me.”

She moved her hands and he leaned down to kiss her. Hugging her close to him, and pulling her up to his lips, they kissed.

Snow fell softly onto them, as they cuddled closely to keep warm. Y/n wrapped them up in the blanket, and they fell into a deeper, more loving kiss. His tongue played with hers, and one of his hands moved to her hair and they melted together until all the air left their lungs. Forcing them to pull back and softly peck each other’s lips a few more times before Y/n rested her cheek near his beating heart.

They walked down to the rocks and back running and chasing each other through the sand, and snow, and god it was freezing, but being with Harry warmed her up more than any other mittens or jackets or fires could.

Jumping on his back and messing around dancing on the snowy beach for an hour, it felt like time slipped by in a wink. When it was around two thirty Harry decided to take them to the beach house for the night. He drove steadily only a street down the road and stopped out the front of this grand big old Victorian-style house painted a soft periwinkle colour, and Y/n felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she grabbed Harry’s hand and they stepped out of the car.

The street was silent, she could hear crickets and howling wind, as the snow speckled down onto them.

When they got inside the house it was cold — freezing, and the clothes hanging off their bodies were damp from the snow which made it even worse. As they stepped inside the cosy home it was dark, almost pitch-black but Y/n wasn’t scared because she could feel the heat of Harry’s body behind her following her inside, whispering softly in her ear. 

He grabbed her hand, and without turning on any lights he guided her upstairs to the upstairs lounge room. Even in the dark Y/n knew where they were going. It was like a library full of books floor to ceiling, and old antique possessions of Styles family, but it still had these comfy couches and a window seat to stare out at the ocean view. There was a golden-plated fireplace. Y/n remembers hiding away in here a few times when she couldn’t sleep, and sometimes Anne would bring her tea and blanket and kiss her head if she saw her inside. 

She had fond memories here, in this house, in this room. Some even with Harry, before he’d turned into a proper brooding teenage boy, they’d read Harry Potter and other fantasy novels stowed away in this room for hours during the summers. Emma wasn’t too fond of reading until she was older and could read erotica, which Y/n felt matched Emma’s taste quite well.

Y/n’s hand reached for the doorframe and Harry stepped inside first. It felt incredibly weird being here during the winter. But Harry’s warmth left it feeling like it was a romantic summer night.

He leaned down and began starting up a fire. Y/n admired the way he stacked the logs, his strong arms flexing as he did so, and he turned her. “Trouble, can y’get me some firelighters, please?” His tone was low like they had company asleep down the hall, even though they didn’t. 

The firelighters were downstairs, she nodded at him walked downstairs with his phone for a flashlight and hunted around for a few matches and firelighters. She found them easily, the layout of this home memorised in her mind, like every inch of the boy to whom it belonged. 

Pottering around, she made them each a warm tea to warm up. The kettled only took a moment to boil and she filled the mugs up to the bring. Some herbal thing Anne liked. The smell reminded Y/n of those late nights in the library room.

She carefully walked back upstairs her sock-covered feet so quiet on the hardwood floors. She found Harry scrunching up some newspaper and lighting it with a golden zippo from his pocket. She handed him the firelighters silently, and he smiled in thanks, noticing the two mugs of steam in her hands and motioned for her to sit down. She listened and sat down on the plush brown cushioned couch, and she watched him get the fire going and stood, grabbing some candlesticks from the mantle and lighting them. 

It would be a while until it warmed up the room, Y/n shivered placing the mugs down on a little coffee table, before grabbing the folded woollen blanket from behind her head and wrapped herself up in it. 

Harry joined her side and pulled her under his arm gently. He was so warm, and she melted into his side idly. Trying to shake the feeling this whole night was a dream and she’d wake up, fourteen in her twin bed, and none of this would have ever happened. But it was real.

He leaned down to capture her lips in his, his tender plush lips tasted of mint chewing gum and her lip mask, were real. The warmth spreading up her spine, the nervous race of her heart, and his chilled hands sliding up her back, were so real.Her feelings were the most real they’d ever been.

She kissed him back, with a rawness that was beginning to become familiar between them. The empty house filled with the noises of their soft gasps and sighs, and the gentle crackle of the logs burning away. Harry pressed closer to her, arms encircling her waist tightly. Holding her so close to him, as if he worried this was all a dream too and she’d slip away if he let go of her.

His chest was flush against hers, and Y/n’s hands tangled up in his messy hair to ensure he stayed right where she wanted him. Right here, forever if he’d let her. He was a welcomed warmth and the blanket slipped off their shoulders as the kiss grew more intense.

Their tongues clashed messily, and mouths parted like they were a source of oxygen for each other, soaking each other in. One of Harry’s hands moved to her hip tracing a familiar scar she’d got falling off a trampoline in his backyard. He remembers being the one to wait with her in the hospital while they stitched it.

His knee moved between both of hers, bumping them apart and pushing up closer as she began to fall back onto the couch arms still around his neck and hands in his hair. Moving down to lay on top of her she wrapped her legs around him. Hugging every inch of him closer to her. Her head was tucked up against one of the pillows on the couch, hips rocking against his as he hugged her tighter his hands sliding under peachy bum, squeezing the plump flesh there and sighing contently. 

“You are perfect,” Harry uttered, pulling back, kissing cheek and then her jaw. Pulling back again to admire her flushed face. His eyes burned into hers, as a tender look washed over him. “So fucking perfect, god, I could die happy knowing you’re all mine.”

And maybe it wasn’t I love you, but they both knew that’s what he meant. She smiled up at him, a grin, dazzling and toothy. The orange glow of the fire was just enough for him to see that beautiful smile and he melted at the sight. Was it too soon to marry this bloody girl?

He knew that whatever this girl wanted, needed, or asked, he’d do for her in a heartbeat. He was done for. That smile made him want to fall to his knees and kiss the floor she walked on. Her name was carved into his heart, in her soft handwriting, this was it. This was what he’d been waiting for. For her.

“Stay, Styles.” Was all she could muster, flustered and drunk on the taste of him. Her soft voice ran up his spine and he shivered, squeezing her tight.

“I’m not going anywhere, Baby,” He replied leaning down to nose at her neck shyly. Her hands slid under his shirt feeling his soft firm back to hold him here. Anchoring herself to him, she left her mark all over him and he felt his cock twitch. This girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and he didn’t even mind.

“Better not.” She replied breathily, as he kissed along her neck down to her breast nosing at his initial on her neck before moving to kiss along her collar bones.

“Take it off,” She muttered. His hands in no rush lifted off her first layer. Throwing the jumper down as he gazed at the dark long sleeve, tugging that off quickly too, and laughing when there was still another layer. It was the final one, a gauzy flimsy white singlet she was wearing. He could see her nipples pebbling at the cold air and the outline of her perfect body. “This too,” She said nodding.

His hands softly tugged it up off her and threw it along with the rest. Her hands tugged the hem of his many layers and he sat back on his bum to pull them off in one go, revealing his rippling muscles and perfect tattoos. The glow of the flames flickering against his body had a heat creeping between her thighs.

He was a total fucking sex god. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Harry, you really are beautiful.” She said, all besotten, and the rotten-mouthed Harry Styles actually blushed red at her words. Blushed! A red rosy flush crept up his neck and cheeks, and he smiled shyly, mouth slightly parted.

He tried to find a teasing quip and for once fell flat because Y/n was already telling him to kiss her again, and that was enough to make him come back down, pressing their skin together. The feeling brought them both a comfort they hadn’t expected. Skin to skin, it felt like the closest thing to magic.

Both of them were still dressed in pants Y/n reached for his belt undoing it eagerly, as she never took her lips off his. Eventually, his pants were loose and Harry pulled back for a moment to tug them off messily. Y/n decided to do the same, leaving her in just a pair of silly knickers with cartoon fish on them.

Harry giggled thumbing at the pattern with his big hands. “You are so adorable, sweet girl.”

She smiled shyly blushing. “Shut up and kiss me again, Styles.”

So he did, and things began to heat up as Y/n rucked up against his hips more desperately. A throbbing heat, aching for some form of relief, seeking out his stiffening cock. She rubbed herself softly on his thigh whimpering into his mouth. Positioning herself to rub against him, and what was poking hard into her leg.

And he laughed softly at her neediness, moving his lips to kiss her neck again, resting his face in the crook there pressing even firmer against her. Not realising until now how much he craved to fill her sweet little pussy up. His cock stiffened at the feel of warm wet slick dripping from her cute goofy knickers onto him, and began to push against her. Moaning into her skin, smelling her, and letting himself be completely captivated by her.

She whined at the feel of him. “Harry,” She sighed, all breathy. God, he loved when she said his name, but he did like when she said pretty much anything in that breathy sort of way she got when she was being taken care of underneath him.

He moved back to place a peck on her lips, before travelling down her body, first capturing a nipple in his mouth. Sucking, biting, and teasing her. Loving the sounds that she made from his supple mouth. Whiny gasps of pleasure and wet kisses filled the air.

He kissed further down to her navel and along her hips, a teasing bite against her flesh that made her squeal and laugh, jolting up slightly. “Styles!”

He peppered kissings over the bite in apology, licking a long stripe across it. “Mmm.”

He travelled further down, near the hem of her knickers, at eye level with the gorgeous slick stain begging to be lapped up by him. He looked up to find her already staring down at him, and his hands moved to hips as he nosed at her warmth, watching her squirm from the soft touch. The heady and delicious scent of her perfect pussy filled his senses as he gripped the hem of her knickers desperately.

“G’na be a good girl and let m’take care of you?” He asked her, one of his hands moving up to stroke her cheek gently. Dragging back down her body slowly waiting for her answer, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing against his palm.

She nodded eagerly grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Please, please, need you, Daddy,” She whispered sultrily.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you, Angel.” He replied, moving his hand back down and tugging them down languidly, throwing them to the floor. Welcoming her with the sight of her pretty, wet, pussy. Lips splayed out like a flower in bloom. A pearly sheen coated all over her legs and Harry licked his lips at the sight of her. 

He was so hungry to taste her and lick into that pretty hole of hers. The low light of the fire cast a gentle light over her beautiful soft flesh and silky skin. Slowly inching his face closer and he guided her legs over his shoulders, heels landing on his back and thighs pressing to his cheeks, as his hot breath hit her pussy causing her to squeeze her eyes tight and her hands to clench the couch cushion, shivering. His nose bumped into her puffy clit, as he pressed a gentle kiss into her lips. 

She breathed out softly, hands moving to his messy hair to hold him there. He began to suck on her clit, causing her hips to jolt up in surprise. His big strong hands came up to push her thighs back toward her, folding her in half, and keep her still while he ate her like she was his last meal.

“Fuck,” She uttered, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth. Harry started by licking up all the mess she’d made between her pretty little thighs getting worked up from their kissing. Normally one to tease her a lot more, but in this moment, he just wanted her to feel the best she ever had.

He noticed the noises she was making were muffled, and not as loud as he wanted, and pulled back to find her hand over her mouth.

“Y/n, Baby, don’t keep me from hearing those filthy little sounds, please.” He said one of his hands grabbing at her wrist, and the begging tone had her dropping them to her sides and squeezing the plush couch.

She blushed bashfully, “Sorry, used to needing t’be quiet, H,”

He smiled at her. “Don’t worry. It’s just us…you and me.” Before moving back down, and tonguing her fluttering hole, his thumb came up to toy with her clit. When she moaned for him, back arching up, and heels pressing further into his muscled back he smirked against her. Pulling back for a moment to praise her gently. “Much better, sucha’ good girl f’ me, love hearing your lil’ noises.”

She whined when his mouth moved up to suck on her clit, and one of his long fingers made its way to stretch her out. It slid in easily, until he was knuckle deep, “Fuck, Daddy,”

He started to curl inside her and move, fucking her, and the noises that escaped her pussy and swollen lips had him fucking his hips against the couch, cock painfully hard. When he added another finger, he could feel the tightness as she squeezed around him. He had started to hit that spot inside her, and the way he was licking at her clit, and suckling on it, her toes were curling and her hands had fallen into his already messy hair. Nails scratching at his scalp and tugging on his hair when he did something made her body twitch involuntarily.

“Oh, yes, there,” She whined when his fingers curled and grazed that spot. “G’na make me cum, Daddy? Can I?” She begged.

He pulled back, fingers still going. “Cum for Daddy, Princess.” Before going back to lick into her again.

She did, one that snuck up her. Causing a surprised gasp to escape her lips. 

A white-hot wave flooded over her whole body, causing her to shake, pussy pulsating against him, and toes curling. Sparks snapping down her spine, as a mewl left her throat. Her hips stuttered, and one of her hands moved to claw at his shoulder. He hissed against her but he didn’t stop, and Y/n felt her legs tremble, and she was going to tell him to stop but he felt so good. Despite her feeling sensitive from her previous orgasm, his tongue had her closing her eyes, a heat growing once again, as she rocked her hips chasing that familiar feeling.

He was an expert at it, and it had taken him barely any time to become a master of her body, and knew exactly how to make her finish over and over.

He licked into her cunt, lapping up the tangy sweet flavour of her. Moaning loudly as he tongued her clit, he couldn’t get enough. If he could sustain from just eating Y/n’s sweet little cunt, he’d eat her for all his meals.

Only a few minutes later she was falling apart again, a mess, but this time she squirted all over him. Unexpectedly, she felt a different feeling crash through her, and she screamed out clenching her eyes shut and her legs came to clamp around his head uncontrollably. Harry’s eyes peered up at her one of his hands playing with her nipple and squeezing her soft fleshy breast. A wetness coating his chin and throat, god, she thought for a moment there she stopped seeing and hearing for a second, when she came back to Harry pulled off her with a popping sound and her legs fell limp on either side of him. 

His fingers slide out leaving her empty, he lifted them to his mouth and sucked off the last of her. Sitting back on his knees and watching her, hands still wrapped around her legs caressing them as they trembled.

She felt herself clench around nothing, thinking about empty she felt now, and how badly she wanted his perfect dick inside her. He leaned forward again, nose brushing her tummy, as he thumbed over swollen wet petals. Her cross necklace and chain with her initial tickled her skin as he got closer to her neck. “Fuck, it’s so easy to ruin this little pussy, Baby,”

He smirked at her shiver. “Haven’t even fucked you with m’cock yet, and you’re already a mess f’me, my sweet girl.” One of his hands came up to brush some of her stray hairs away from her face. “Hmm, so beautiful.”

She melted into his touch and took a few shaky breaths as he continued to play with her sensitive pussy and hair. “Daddy…” She shut her eyes. “Need you, please,”

He looked down at her tauntingly, hand stroking her cheek. As he hovered over her naked body. He looked edible. His lips were red and probably tasted of her, a devilish smirk crept over his face. And his body, ugh, she wanted to swallow him whole. 

“Need me, huh? What d’ya mean?” He teased her, and she pouted up at him. Using her foot to kick his bum in faux annoyance.

“Harryyyy!” She really had missed him, and she really did love this boy. Messy hair, rotten mouth, tattoos, long past of other girls, his habit of teasing her for everything. She loved all of him, and shes certain she always will.

“Babyyyy.” He said back, leaning down to kiss her neck some more, leaving a mark on her collarbone. Laying on her, boxer-covered cock pressing against her warm pussy.

She pouted some more. “Pleaseee.” Her long nails came up to her arms and scratched his biceps, they were so fleshy and strong, she felt so safe wrapped up in them. He smelt delicious, and she nosed at his neck. He smelt like normal — tobacco and vanilla but had a hint of something just Harry, a heady smell that coated his skin. She wished she could stay in this moment forever. Her thighs and legs came up to wrap around him and squeeze him closer if that was even possible.

He stopped his kisses and pressed his nose to hers, brushing them together. “Please what? Can’t help if you won’t be a good girl and tell Daddy what you want…” His thumb came up to rub along her bottom lip. “Hmm? Princess?”

She blushed, staring right into his green eyes, and melted into his palm. “Can you please, please, put that pretty cock inside me, Daddy? I need it. Haven’t seen you in a week. I missed you.” Pouting her lips, she lifted her nails to his sides, scratching along his muscles and tattoos. “Please. Wanna feel you. All of you.”

He shivered at her touch, he couldn’t believe his bloody luck, pretty little Y/n from next door was begging for his cock and she was all his. His pretty girl.

He kissed her, a long one, tongues dancing together playfully, “Such a good girl f’me, Trouble.” He said against her lips and kissed her some more. His hips rutted against hers, and she rubbed against him moaning and kissing him back lazily. He could feel his boxers getting damp from her slick.

He kissed her like that until she was squeezing him so tightly, and whining loud enough that he knew it was evil to make her wait any longer. He pulled back pecking her nose and then forehead, “Y’want me inside, Baby?” His veiny tattooed hand came up to rub her tummy absentmindedly thinking of how full she’d be of him, how he’d be in her tummy hitting all those spots.

She nodded biting her lip. “God yes. You want that too, right, Styles?” She said breathlessly canting her hips against his throbbing cock.

“Yeah, I really fucking missed you, Trouble.” He said, and he sat back on his knees again tugging his boxers off. His cock sprung up, bobbing against his belly, all swollen and hard for her. As big as always, she would never get used to the sight of him. Dripping in pearls of precum, and probably a bit of her slick. His prick was all veiny, big, and hers. Her mouth watered, and she was tempted to slip him inside her throat for a taste.

She hadn’t realised her mouth was hanging open, but when Harry laughed she came back to, “What?”

“You’d think I’d never fucked you before,” He teased, licking his lips.

She sat up, eyes still trained on his stiff prick, unable to look away. “Not my fault you’re abnormally large, Styles, it’s what gives you the right to walk around like you’re gods gift,” She paused hand coming out to give him a few lazy strokes, he hissed when her thumb ran over his leaking slit. “This perfectly crafted fucking dick. Made just f’me. Right?”

His head fell back, and his eyes squeezed shut, how could feel so close to coming just from her hand tugging him a few times? Christ. His hips started fucking into her hand desperately against his mind’s better judgement, this woman had him under a spell. “Yes, Princess, all of me is made for you.” 

She pressed their foreheads together and guided the tip to touch her. Gently pressing into her wetness.

He whined. “Y/n, mm fuck, Angel,” And slowly entered her, feeling her squirm at the size of him. Stopping when he was all the way inside her. He nosed at her throat and felt her arms and legs wrap around him tightly. “You okay?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “Yeah, Styles, I’m good. Move f’me.”

As he started to pump inside her at a slow pace, he could feel how wet, tight, and hot she was inside. He had to fight not to finish quickly. Moaning loudly, as her hands scratched into his skin.

“Mm, shit,” She whispered squeezing hers shut, despite the fact he was moving slowly his thrusts were still deep and hitting her g-spot hard, her body was relaxed from two orgasms, and she didn’t know if she’d last long.

“Feel good, Petal?” He asked.

She nodded bumping their noses together. “Kiss me, please.”

So he did, a deep kiss, and his thrusts unconsciously went faster. Hitting that spot rapidly, and she was moaning loudly against his lips, she pulled apart to let her fall down as she panted.

“I think you’re gonna make me cum, fuck,” She mewled, and the way her pussy clenched on his cock he knew she was telling the truth, one of his hands snuck between them and while still keeping the same pace he rubbed her puffy little clit and felt it throb at his touch.

“Cum, Baby.” He ordered.

Her legs tightened around his hips and she hugged him, shaking fiercely, and cried out soft calls of his name. And he felt a dampness shoot over his thighs and cock. She’d squirted again, and he kissed her at that.

“Good girl, so good,” He cooed, pumping her through it, as he felt his own orgasm not far off.

She kissed his neck. “Will you cum in my pussy, Daddy, please? Wanna be full of you.”

And the unexpected words that spilled from his mouth made his cock twitch, and heat pool in his stomach. “Yes, Princess, m’ close.”

His head fell into the crook of her neck and shoulder and he grunted, hips speeding up and becoming more sloppy all at once.

“Yes, Daddy, cum f’me. Mmm.” She moaned, and her pussy clenched on him. And he whined, hips stuttering at her words.

“Fuck, Baby,”

It was only a few more seconds of him pounding into her and he came, hard, a guttural groan left his lips and he fucked her until all of his cum was stuffed inside her. She whimpered at the feeling, and he fell on top of her tiredly, and she hugged him close.

He lifted his head up to kiss her, cock still buried deep in her. “I- you are so perfect, I wish we could stay like this forever, Trouble.” He almost said it — those three words, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He wanted to say I love you without her thinking it had anything to do with sex.

“Me too, Styles.” She replied smiling.

They kissed a long, unhurried kiss.

When they pulled back Harry shifted them into a different position leaving his softened prick inside her for a few more minutes. Not quite ready to pull out of her.

Her back pressed into his chest, and he wrapped his big arms around her waist, squeezing her nice and close to him. Stroking her head and peppering kisses all over her, she sighed softly into his touch and in a few minutes she was asleep.

Deep heavy breaths rose and fell in his arms, letting her rest like that for a few more minutes. When he felt his eyes start to droop too, he kissed her head and woke her up to make sure they wouldn’t be all sticky. She moved over and Harry walked to the bathroom. He came back with a warm flannelette and wiped her bits and legs, kissing the tender areas as he did. She whimpered at the feeling, and Harry made sure to peck her lips and whisper sweet nothings to her.

They got back onto the couch, deciding to sleep nice and close to the fire, Harry threw the blanket over them tucking Y/n into his chest, his back against the sofa, and hers against him. Hugging her so tight she wouldn’t be able to escape, even when he lulled off he held her like the most precious thing in the world.

The fire raged for a good few hours, and when they woke up a bit later to the alarm they set to make sure Y/n got back for her class in time. Harry helped her get dressed and fixed her hair, guiding her sleepy form to the car and letting her sleep during the drive back home. Making sure to take care of her, one of his hands resting on his thigh for most of the drive.

As they drove home the sun was rising and Y/n’s soft sleepy snores filled the car, Harry watched her sleeping with the utmost admiration.

“I love you.” He whispered to himself looking at her through tired eyes. 

It was around seven thirty when they pulled up to Y/n’s house. She sleepily knuckled her eyes, and they both looked ruined, having got only four or so hours of rest.

Harry woke her gently rubbing her shoulder. “Home, Baby,”

She groaned wiping her eyes and stirring. Before leaning over to him, “I don’t wanna goooo…”

He smiled at her and moved his hand to caress her head. “Want me to pick you up after your lecture? I’ll make you some food, and we can nap. Hmm?”

She nodded. “Sounds good, Baby,”

He leaned over to peck her lips and then unbuckled his belt to open her door for her and walk her inside. 

Hand in hers he walked her to the door, Y/n threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply as Harry’s hands travelled down to her peachy bum and squeezed it. Harry placed one final peck on her puffy lips and tucked his head into her neck spinning her around in a tight hug before plopping her back on her feet and kissing her hand that was joined to his before waving goodbye and heading back to his car.

What the two hadn’t seemed to notice was Emma’s peering gaze from behind one of the many big oaks. For once she’d gotten up early, made it to her six o’clock pilates class, and was actually on her way to walk with Y/n to their Pysch class, two large seasonal coffee cups in her hands and a cute little teal workout set on ready to triumph the day. This was probably the second time in the semester Emma hadn’t been hungover or slept in and was actually here to attend the lecture with Y/n. 

So of course Y/n hadn’t expected to see her best friend, and Emma of course had not expected to see any of that.

She had been whistling happily, chirpily walking two warm delicious smelling coffees and a hop in her step. The sun was shining despite the winter air, and she only had one more exam and she was done for the Uni semester! What was there to be annoyed about? And even though this Pysch lecturer was insane, at least she’d be with lovely Y/n who would definitely tell her all the answers to the quiz that was going to take place.

She’d been so excited to surprise Y/n with a coffee and a muffin and plan the many many many parties over their coming winter break on the walk to campus. But she’d immediately stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother’s car. What the fuck was Harry doing there? Maybe shagging one of Y/n’s roomies?

But when she saw Y/n step out of the car in her pyjamas, and all close to him, Emma knew. 

She watched them kiss and giggle and had to fight the urge not to throw up, scream, or cry. Instead of doing any of those things she froze and ducked down behind the tree hiding from Harry’s car as it drove off. 

Devising silently what to do with this situation, she sat down on the grass and waited for a couple of minutes. Catching her breath and calming down from the shock.

Before soon heading to knock on the door and pretend she hadn’t seen a thing, she decided it would be best to mull things over, despite the rage thrumming through her, she plastered the biggest smile she could and waited for Y/n.

Y/n answered, now changed into a fresh set of warm comfy clothes for the lecture. A cosy big knit and a skirt with thick tights under, and these tall boots. She had a brush in her hand and was raking it through her messy hair. 

“Oh! Em! What’re you doing here?” Y/n said, peering up owlishly, and smiling. Not having expected to see Emma of all people, especially so early. She only joined the class because Y/n was taking it and then never came to a single lesson this semester.

Emma raised the two coffee cups. “We still have Psych this morning right? I bought those new cinnamon roll syrup coffees, Babe. You said you wanted to try them.”

Y/n smiled, pulling her in for a hug, “Oh you’re the best come up, I still need to do my makeup and then we can start walking, yeah?”

Emma nodded a tight-lipped smile and followed Y/n up to her room. 

Now that Emma thought about it, Y/n had been happier than normal, and Harry had been more relaxed. Less of a grumpy old oaf, and much calmer. She hadn’t seen a string of people leaving in the morning and Harry coming down hungover. She hadn’t heard drunken stumbling inside, she hadn’t smelt the familiar potent smell of Harry smoking upstairs, and she hadn’t noticed his lack of appearance at most events where Y/n wasn’t. Not until right now.

God, how could she be so stupid!!! Was she blind? She didn’t know how she hadn’t realised. She knew Y/n had fancied him when they were younger, and Harry had their whole friendship, but she’d made it clear to both of them that she didn’t approve.

How had this whole thing slipped past her? Why were they keeping it from her? Obviously, she didn’t approve! How could she? Her brother fucked anything that moved since he was fourteen, a party boy, drugs and sex a part of his daily ritual. Parties every night, and a thirst for people that could not be quenched. 

Though she loved him he had many great qualities, he was and always would be the boy who came in wrecking all her friendships by shagging the girls and ditching them.

And Y/n was hers, her best friend, and she had warned him many times that he could not go there with Y/n. Y/n was untouchable, off-limits, and innocent. Y/n wasn’t a party girl, she stayed home reading or studying, watching cheesy old shows and calling her grandma every Tuesday during her break between lectures. Y/n was perfect and sweet. She had such little experience with boys and life.

The handful of interactions Y/n had with boys had been due to Emma’s involvement, having only been with two boys her whole life. Jeremiah from sixth form who she’d lost her virginity to, Keiran an Irish lad they’d met on their holiday to Greece during a Uni summer who Y/n had spent a few weeks with. They’d met up in a few different countries that summer and shared a short romance that ended when he went back to Dublin and Y/n to London. They’d mainly just kissed, but Emma managed to find out from Y/n that Keiran was particularly good with his mouth and had a thing for eating girls out, he preferred it to sex.

Emma had also hooked up with both of them. She had given Jeremiah a blowie a year before he took an interest in Y/n at a house party. In Greece, Emma had been the one to kiss Keiran on the dancefloor before moving on to his friend Jordon who was a rugby player for the Cork team when she realised Keiran was not a famous rugby player, only a builder. 

Emma never liked the idea of anyone taking advantage of Y/n, she was sweet, and she knew her brother had to be using her for a shag. Y/n would be of no use to him otherwise. Just another notch in his belt.

Harry would never be a boyfriend guy, and Emma knew Y/n wasn’t fuck buddy material she would get attached to a pigeon in the park if it ate enough of her crumbs.

Emma refused to believe Y/n could be as naive as to fall for it. Harry was masterful with his charm, and so was she. The two siblings chewed people and spat them back out. Y/n had always noticed the restlessness about them. So, Emma could recognise what they were, and accept that settling down just wasn’t in their nature.

As Emma watched Y/n place some blush on her cheeks in the ensuite, she walked over to where Y/n’s phone was charging. A few messages popped up on the screen.

Harry Styles🍒

You are so cute, show me your outfit for today.

Call me when you are done, Baby. Em should be at Zayns we can just chill. XX

Emma gritted her teeth and placed the phone down. 

She had to think of a way to stop this and prove what Harry’s true intentions were. He couldn’t possibly love her or care, there was no way.

The walk to campus was nice, the cold had turned to a crisp clear day, and as they walked through the main bustling part of campus they saw Niall and a bunch of his frat friends chatting by Lily’s Cafe, which was the best spot on campus. It had cheap coffee that tasted good and food that didn’t look like it’s gonna run away from you.

Y/n worked there in her first year, Zayn was a barista there so they had been heading there for free donuts before their lecture. Niall spotted them, he was in a backward cap and a cosy-looking oversized crewneck and sweats, he jogged over.

“Sexy ladies, what are we up to?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What does it look like, we are here to get a jet to Dubai, we are obviously getting coffee.”

Y/n giggled. “Don’t worry, Ni, Em is not a morning person.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “What’s got you moody Em, Zayn ain’t as good in the sack as rumours say?”

“Shut up, Niall.”

Emma and Niall never really got along, they butted heads a lot, and Niall was one of the only people to stand up to her. He thinks the reason Emma hates him is because back in first year they’d come to a frat party and of course, he’d spotted them instantly.

Y/n had been in his pink flowy dress, her hair styled up in a sleek look, big gold hoops on her ears and she looked beautiful. Niall remembers working his way over to flirt with her and being rudely interrupted by Emma. She was fit too, with a black dress and an attitude, but she wasn’t Y/n.

He hadn’t known Emma was Harry’s sister, he should’ve known from the attitude and brooding good looks, but he hadn’t put two and two together until Harry walked over to tell the girls off for coming when he’d told them not to. 

Emma walked into Lily’s as Y/n stood next to Niall. 

“How are you, mate?”

Niall lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his side. “I’ll be better tonight. Please tell me you are coming?”

Y/n sighed. “Oh god, what’s tonight?”

“Cops, robbers, and sluts party at Sigma Pi Gamma.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Peter’s frat. I fucking hate that prick.”

Niall laughed. “No one likes him, Babe,”

“I don’t know if I’ll go…” Y/n said absently, thinking about curling up with Harry watching Murder She Wrote and eating Chinese takeaway.

“You have to come, if you don’t I’ll have to deal with Paddy and his mates alone. I need you..bring Styles, I need my emotional support friends.”

Y/n smiled at him. Now that she thinks about it Niall was probably one of her closest friends other than Emma. Even though Emma always tried to talk down on him. “I’ll talk to him, Em probably already planned on dragging me there tonight. What are you going as a cop or a robber?”

Niall smirked cheekily. “I’m going as a slut obviously.”

“We’ll see if I can find a costume in time. I don’t think I have anything.”

Niall shrugged and they both watched Emma through the glass window as she curled up in Zayn’s arms. “I’m sure Emma will. She’s pretty much been to every party on campus since you two arrived. Even when she was sick last month I still saw her at Seth’s place, she’s sure to have a costume for you.”

“Why don’t you two get along?” Y/n asked after a moment of silence as they soaked in the rays of the sun that today provided, the snow had stopped.

Niall laughed. “Other than the fact she’s creepily obsessed with you? She’s never liked me. I think it’s ‘cause of that one time.”

Y/n frowned. Since when was Emma obsessed with her? Emma only really cared about herself, and Y/n felt guilty as the thought crossed her mind, but Emma really did only ever focus on herself. Her outfit, her hair, her looks, her current boy of the week. Her frown deepened, what one time?

“What time? Did you two hook up or summat?” Y/n asked curiously.

Niall burst out in a cackle. “Her? And me? Puh-lease kid. She’s so not my type.”

It was true, Niall liked softness…everyone he’d dated had been like gentle teddy bears.

“What then? Flirt with a guy she fancied?” Y/n questioned. Emma got pretty territorial.

“My flirting seems to be rather forgettable, Babe.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember your first freshers party?” Niall asked.

Y/n thought back to her first party. She wore a flowy pink dress that Harry said made her look like fairy floss, and he’d been pissed that she even came out he didn’t like them drinking. 

“Sure, summer theme right?”

He nodded. “I flirted with you all night.”

Y/n laughed in disbelief. “You did?!”

Niall smirked. “Yeah, then both your guard dogs barked at me for it. You didn’t seem to notice though.”

Y/n giggled. As if Harry cared.

“Y/n that boy has been obsessed with you since forever.”

She rolled her eyes. “No way.”

Niall then in an instant pulled up a photo of the four of them on his phone. Niall, Emma, Harry, and Y/n at a party in the girls first year, they were all dressed up for Pride in rainbows and celebrating. Harry was mooning down at her staring as Y/n grinned under Niall’s shoulder.

“Look at the way he looks at you.”

Y/n smiled, blushing. “God, he’s so annoying.”

“He’s in love,” Niall replied, certain, and Y/n leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You are a romantic aren't you, Horan?”

To that, the boy ruffled her hair. “Maybe I actually believe in it now. Are you gonna help me with Paddy?”

She nodded, “Of course, mate,” 

This warm fuzzy feeling stayed with Y/n all the way to the Styles place. The day had turned beautiful so she’d decided to walk there. 

Emma had left to be with Zayn but they promised to see each other at that party that night. Apparently, it was impreative that Y/n come, and now that Niall had begged her she had no choice. 

When Y/n arrived at the flat she found Harry half asleep in his boxers on the couch doing a Uni assignment. Laptop on his lap and a blanket wrapped around him. He looked up at the sound of someone using the key in the door.

She stepped inside smiling at him. God, wasn’t her boyfriend yummy?

“Hey Baby, you walked?” He said happily and was going to get up to greet her but Y/n practically flew on the couch, dumping her bag on the floor and landing in his arms.

She nuzzled into his side and kissed his neck in a warm greeting. 

“Stylessss,” She mewed out, the weight of their practically sleepless night hitting her now as she melted into his side.

“Baby,” He sighed back, a hint of arousal melted down his spine at the way her lips kissed his neck ready to give her anything she asked. Jesus, this girl. His girl. She’d be the death of him. He’d spent half the night making love to her, and now she was doing this, and he was almost ready to go again and she’d hardly touched him.

Harry had to admit to himself that having a girlfriend, especially when it was Y/n was actually rather lovely. If you asked him a few months ago about his thoughts of relationships he’d say he dreaded the idea of being stuck with one person. The idea of being tied to only one, and feeling stuck, but now that he had his Y/n he didn’t feel that at all. He’d gladly stick to her for the rest of his life.

He was completely and utterly besotted with her, so when she looked up at him in her cute little way he knew he’d soon be agreeing to whatever she asked of him.

“Can you do me a favour?” She practically purred, fluttering her lashes and looking up at him. She knew he’d give in, he was a sucker for her eyes. He always talked about how much he loved them, her pretty bedroom eyes.

“What is it, Trouble?” He asked, his pupils already dilating at the way she pressed her hand into his thigh rubbing him with her soft hand. She really was trouble.

She fluttered her eyes at him once more. “I’ll give you anything you want if…” She paused licking her lips and leaning in closer.

“If I what, Trouble?” He asked, biting his lip and lifting his hand to push the hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “Hmm? What is it, Baby?”

She dropped the act, bringing her hands together in a begging motion, “If you pretty please come to this ridiculous party tonight to help Niall with Paddy’s mates? Plus Em was gonna drag me anyway, I need you with me. Pleaseeee!”

Harry groaned throwing his head back against the top of the couch, showing off his neck that was covered in marks from last night. He really had not wanted to anything but sleep and hopefully hangout with his girlfriend in peace.

“Babyyy, we were gonna have a nice night innnn, I’m so tireddd.” Harry whined out his hands covering his face, he’dalready planned a night of binging that silly show Y/n liked and kissing her, a lot.

She nods, pouting, and putting her hands on his shoulders rubbing them softly with her palms. “I know, Baby, I know, but if you do I promise you won’t regret it.”

He looks up, a devilish smirk crossing onto his face. “What will you give me if I do, hmm?”

She smirks back at him and leans forward to plant a kiss on his lips, they taste like toothpaste and strawberries. He must have been eating them before she got here. She lets out a soft little moan against his lips as his hands creep up under her shirt. God, she really can’t get enough of this boy. He’s just..ugh. Her need for him is insatiable.

His hands grip her tighter and he pulls onto his lap urgently. She giggles against his kiss and lets her hands mess with his gorgeous hair, her nails scratching the nape of his neck causing him to sigh out. She pulls back and begins to pepper kisses down his neck and shoulders, over his swallows tattoos and further down. 

“Please?” She asks, pouting her lips and fluttering her beautiful eyes at him. 

He looks at her, “Y/n, don’t do the face.” He’s almost begging because he wants to give this girl the whole world and more, for nothing in return.

She moves off his lap sinking to her knees onto the floor of the plush shag carpet, and she places her hands on his thighs, sitting between his muscular legs. She begins to caress his legs gently, her small delicate hands slowly travelling further and further up his bare legs. “What face?”

He throws his head back for what feels like the thousandth time. “God, Baby,”

She sits up a bit, tucking her feet under her bum, kneeling right before him as her hands travel to his waistband playing with it teasingly. He shivers under her touch arching into it subconsciously. “Should I stop, Styles?”

He shakes his head looking back down at her and biting his lip. “No.” Harry slowly moves one of his down to her face, he rubs warm skin, a big hand cupping her cheek like he’s done many times before. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

She kisses the palm of his hand in response and then moves forward to kiss his tiger tattoo on his muscular thigh. He lets go of her face moving his hand into her hair and pushing it back from her eyes. “So pretty, Baby,”

She blushes and then moves her kisses up along his other thigh and nipping at the milky flesh of the inner part of his muscle, leaving a little pink love bite that causes his breath to hitch and dick to rise in his boxers even more. Fuck. She was fucking made for him. No one had ever understood him and his body so well. Not like his Y/n.

He lets go of her face grabs her small hand in his brings it up to his waistband and puts it inside his boxers and she feels him. She slowly pulls his hard throbbing dick out with the help of his hand guiding her. As she lets go it springs up against his tummy and she shuffles closer and looks up at him.

“What do you want, Daddy?” She whispers. “My mouth or my hands?”

Harry smirks bringing his hand yet again to her face dragging a thumb across her glossy lips. 

“Mouth baby.” He drawls, as his hand slides down her throat gently stroking the side of her neck before drifting to her shoulder and pulling her even closer to him.

She leans down, her warm breath fanning against him, as her glossy lips graze his pretty pink tip. Then, one little kitten licks teasing against his glistening cock, and his hands instantly come flying down to her hair. Without much thought, he tugs it back out of her face so she can get to work on him just how he likes.

She purses her lips a trail of spit landing on his hard cock, dripping down all the way to his balls. She opens her mouth and then slowly takes the head of him in her mouth, sucking gently, causing Harry to moan. His thighs flex as he fights not to push up into the back of her tight hot throat.

As Y/n expertly starts to move up and down on him, he clenches his jaw letting out a deep grunt. The part of him Y/n can’t fit in her mouth she grabs with her hand that is already covered in slick from his messy tip. This causes Harry’s thighs to shake a little bit as his hips stutter into her mouth. She makes a choked noise bringing him out of the haze of pure bliss she’d given him. He doesn’t want to be too rough with her, but she’s making it hard.

“Sorry, Petal,” He says, a pinched expression covering his features as he looks down at her. “You just make me feel s’good.”

She has tears in her eyes as she takes him ever deeper, the sight in front of him is downright filthy. His pretty girl takinghis big cock in her little lips, choking and crying over it, all desperate to make him. He watches her, as her throat chokes around him. Y/n fights the urge to stop — her lungs begging for her to take a breath. Harry’s eyes practically roll back in his skull and he moans. 

“Oh, fuck, Trouble.”

She pulls up for a gasp of air, her hand still stroking him at the pace he likes, the trail of spit a mess on him and her hand. His tip is leaking pearls of precum, and his prick twitches in her grasp. Despite her only just starting he feels close, so close. Dangerously, so.

“You can be rougher if you want, Daddy,” She says breathily. “I won’t mind.”

He brings his hand to her face, “C’mere.”

She pouts. “But I promised to take care of you.” She says not moving from her kneeling position.

“I know Baby, and I’m so close to cumming. Pretty fucking mouth. All mine.” He praises gently caressing her head. “But I want you. Need to fuck you.” He asks pleadingly. “Will you let me, Angel?”

Y/n agrees at that and climbs messily onto his lap. He kisses her, with a deep passion that makes her tummy curl deliciously with want. Harry tugs the layers of her clothes off in a mess with rough hands. He’s wild, untamable, not stopping until she’s just in her cute icy blue bra and that skirt with the little tights that drive him wild. He’d always been a sucker for Y/n’s short skirts.

“Are you particularly attached to these tights, Trouble?” He says softly as he peppers kisses down her neck It is making it awfully hard for her to think straight let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Hmm, no, why?” She says breathily, eyes fluttering shut in his firm gentle hold.

His answer is one of his strong hands travelling over the curve of her body to her rounded ass, and clawing at the flimsy fabric until he has access to the pale-coloured knickers she was wearing and better access to her silky supple skin. She tugs his hair and kisses his lips hastily, too horny to care about her tights as he begins to toy with her already-dampened knickers.

She whines into his mouth pulling back as she drags her hips along his exposed, sensitive length. “Mm, fuck, Daddy.”

This causes Harry to falter letting out a deep groan. “You’re s’fucking beautiful. You know tha’?”

Y/n giggles in reply.  Slowly moving her hand from his chest down to in between them, she grabs her knickers pulling them to the side. She knows what she wants, and she’s going to get it. With her slick-covered fingers, she grasps his aching cock. It throbs with want against her palm, and she guides the leaking head to her entrance. She winces at the sting of him, and Harry watches her with hooded eyes as his hands massage her bum. He watches as Y/n slowly takes him inside of her.

The head of him nudging past her folds, her sweet pussy slowly enveloping the rest of him. When Y/n finally sinks all the way down she lets out a straggled cry, Harry groans into her ear trying to keep his pleasure at bay. “Oh fuck, right there.” She whispers into his neck, giving herself a second before she moves.

“You okay, Trouble?” He asks quietly brushing some hair from her face and kissing her hairline.

She looks up into his eyes and nods at him. “I’m good Styles. You?” She whispers back as the burning sensation melts into something of toe-curling pleasure.

He nods as a heart-stopping grin splits across his face and he leans close to place a few kisses on her lips. “I wish I could be inside this pussy, all day, every day. You know that?”

She whines and starts to move a little, grinding forward causing him to graze that spot that makes her eyes roll back, she gasps a little and Harry didn’t know he could be this fucking turned on. She repeats that motion a few times before finally getting her knees in the right position to start bouncing up and down on him. He watches her with those green eyes as Y/n starts to move up and down.

Her hands fly to his hair tugging it, as her lips clash against his messily. Feeling his lips on hers grounds her, her body shakes in pleasure as he grunts from her rough tugs on his hair which only sends shots of pleasure to her tummy. Why hadn’t she tried this position with him sooner? It felt so fucking good she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to last long. He’s so deep like this.

Harry’s hands move from her ass, travelling up her spine, ring-covered fingers gently dragging up her soft skin causing her to shiver, as they eventually fall back to her plush hips and help guide her.

As if he could read her mind, one of his big hands comes between them, right where they connect and he grazes her puffy clit. Pulling back from the kiss to tell her sweet nothings. 

“Keep going, Baby,” He encourages as she keeps up the pace. Making sure each bounce she gets him inside her deeper and deeper. His fingers are still persistent on her causing shockwaves of pleasure to wash over her.

Her hands move to his muscular shoulders and she wraps herself up in his embrace, her face right in his neck as she listens to the moans and sounds he makes. She squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on the rhythm until eventually she feels him pounding against that spongy spot inside her and she cries out involuntarily.

“Fuck, Daddy,” She says breathlessly as he brings her face up to meet his in a kiss. His big hand pawing at her warm cheek. His lips captured all the filthy noises from her mouth but did little to prevent the sounds that filled the room from quietening. Her wet pussy swallowed up his prick greedily, all wet tight and hot on him, as his balls slap against her ass, and their lips smack in a messy kiss.

He wants to stay in this moment forever. The perfect rhythm, like their bodies were always meant to be connected like. Asone. She pulls back with a gasp, her legs beginning to shake from pleasure and strain. “Atta girl,” He says. “Doing so good for Daddy, Baby.”

His hand slides to her throat gently caressing her neck, and she claws at his arm desperately. “I’m close,” 

And just like that all the control and slight dominance she’d had is gone out the window as she begs him to help her through it. Her hips stutter and her bouncing lessens.  “Please, Daddy, can I?”

He nods kissing her nose. “Need some help, Trouble?”

She nods desperately and his hand moves from her throat to around her waist and he holds her still hovering over him, he plunges inside her again but this time he’s the one in control. With no warning he begins to pound into her hitting the sweet spot inside her over and over, but harder than ever. She feels an overwhelming feeling in her tummy as her hole flutters around him.

“Daddy,” She whispers. “M’ guna’ cum. Please, don’t stop.”

Harry has the nerve to chuckle, despite how close he is too, that devilish grin covering his face as he watches her falling apart for him. “Come on Angel, cum for me. Be Daddy’s good girl and cum.”

As his words melt down her spine she cums, just like that. Her eyes squeeze shut and she sees a golden haze of warmth behind her eyelids, the feel of her release is like a crack of thunder as his merciless thrusts inside her do not cease when the peak of her orgasms snaps. She throws her head back and shivers uncontrollably, thighs shaking as she takes him.

Harry continues, and when she finally manages to pry her eyes open and meet his gaze she feels his thrusts go sloppy. She leans in to kiss him, an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort in this bubble fills her mind, and when she pulls back she smiles. 

“Cum, Daddy,” She says. “Wanna feel full of you.”

He moans, his eyes pinching shut, and that's when she feels him shoot inside her. She sighs contently letting him ride the high of his orgasm before they slowly melt into the couch. She didn't dare move yet, even though he’d gone soft. When he opens his eyes she brushes some of his mused hair back. “Kiss me, Styles,”

He leans in, a smirk cast over his face, before pecking her lips.

She smiles at him. “So…what are we wearing at the party tonight?”

He sighs throwing his head back in defeat. He knows he’ll be going, those damn puppy dogs and her little pouty face. He begins leaning in and nudging his nose along her neck. She giggles at the feeling.

“What's the theme?” He drawls.

“Umm..cops robbers and sluts?” Y/n says softly.

Harry looks up at her. “You should go as a robber, Trouble.”

Y/n smiles, puzzled at that comment. “Why?”

He smirks placing one of his hands on his chest. “You’ve stolen my heart,”

She leans in and kisses him. “Good luck getting that one back, sap.”

THANKS FOR READING!!!! XXX

[sunflowerry-vol6]

FAMILY FIRST || Harry x Reader

characters count: 11553

summary: paparazzi take pictures of your son, while you try to protect him

“Then maybe we could just grab takeout,” I say softly, not to wake up our two-year-old son who is safely sleeping on your shoulder, his little fingers gripping your shirt. I keep my hand on the small of your back as we walk. We just got back from Italy, where our son spent most of his life—a decision we made together.

Our house in Italy was practically in the middle of nowhere, which gave us privacy and security. Who wants to deal with paparazzi, stalkers, and thousands of fans while taking care of a newborn? I also recognized that you needed time to heal and rest, away from all the buzz, so that decision was really a no-brainer. When we would go out in Rome or Florence, my fans were surprisingly understanding when I said “no pictures.” There wasn’t even one sneaky photo of Dorian, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I could actually breathe.

Today, we were taking a stroll around London, enjoying the sunny weather. Dorian perhaps had too much fun on the playground. You picked him up when you noticed how he was rubbing his eyes—a sign that he was sleepy. The warmth of your body and the familiar scent of your perfume lulled our little one to sleep pretty fast. He was resting safely in your arms.

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. Dorian loves their pasta, so we…” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as we both snap our heads at the sound of a camera shutter going off along with a flash. I can feel your body tense as you cover Dorian’s head with your palm, hiding his face.

“What the fuck did you just do?” I dart to the paparazzo across the street, and you don’t even attempt to stop me. Usually, you would be the one to calm me down, but this time I know we both need those pictures deleted.

“Delete them or I will fuck you up and you’ll have to deal with my whole legal team,” I practically bark at him.

The man lowers his camera slightly, startled but not apologetic. He’s one of the cocky ones, the kind who think a public sidewalk gives him the right to anything. I can feel the rage blooming hot under my skin as I close the distance.

“I said delete them.” My voice is low now, deadly. Controlled in that way I only get when I’m past the point of losing it.

He smirks. “It’s just a photo, mate. You’re in public. You of all people should know that.”

“That’s my son you photographed.” I jab a finger toward his chest. “He’s two. He didn’t sign up for this shit. You take pictures of me, fine. But him? That’s off-limits. Always.”

He shrugs, eyes flicking down to his camera screen. “Could’ve blurred his face later—”

“I don’t care what you could do. Delete it. Now. You don’t fucking understand that one picture of him online—face blurred or not—can put him in danger?”

There’s a shift in his expression, the faintest flicker of discomfort, of realizing maybe this wasn’t worth it. Then, a few taps on his camera. I watch the screen. He deletes not just the photo, but the whole damn set.

“Happy?” he mutters.

“No. But that’s a start.” I step closer, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Next time you even think about pointing a lens at my family, I will make sure you can’t sell a picture to a tabloid ever again.”

He swallows. Good.

I turn away, my pulse still pounding, and jog back across the street.

You’re standing where I left you, arms wrapped protectively around Dorian, your cheek resting on his head. You don’t say anything when I reach you, but your eyes are darker than usual—with fury. The kind of fury that comes from watching someone threaten the peace we fought so hard to build.

“He deleted them,” I say, breath still ragged.

“I’ll have the lawyers put pressure on the outlet he works for. Just in case.” I reach out, brushing a hand down Dorian’s back as he shifts slightly, still asleep.

“He didn’t even stir.”

“He trusts us,” you murmur. “He knows he’s safe.”

And he is. Because we made damn sure of it.

We start walking again, slower now, and my hand finds your side.

“Still up for takeout?” I ask, trying to soften the weight between us.

You glance up at me, a faint smile forming. “Only if we eat it in bed.”

I laugh quietly. “Deal.”

“You ever think about just… vanishing? Not permanently. Just… renting a cabin in Iceland or something,” you say after a long pause.

“Every time someone points a lens at you or him,” I sigh.

“You’ve always been the one to protect us. But I’ve never asked—who protects you?”

“You do. When you make things simple again. When you look at me like I’m not some headline.”

You stop in your tracks. “You’re not. You’re just���ours.”

I reach for your hand, threading our fingers together. “And that’s more than enough.”

“I hate that we have to think like this,” you say finally. “Always ten steps ahead. Always defensive. Even here, in a random corner of London, just walking with our kid.”

I don’t answer right away. You’re not asking for solutions—you’re naming the truth, the life we carved out and the cost that comes with being visible.

“I know,” I say quietly. “And I hate it too. But we knew this wasn’t forever. Italy was… a pause. A beautiful one. But we always said we’d come back when it felt right.”

You nod slowly. “Do you still think it was the right time?”

I look at you—really look. The way your free hand rests over Dorian’s back. The way your jaw is tight, but your shoulders are starting to ease.

“I think the right time doesn’t mean the easy time,” I say. “It means when we’re strong enough to face it again. And we are. You are.”

That earns me a sideways glance and a faint, skeptical smile. “You’re getting very philosophical for someone who was threatening legal apocalypse three minutes ago.”

“I contain multitudes.”

You snort, but your smile softens. I can feel you letting go of the tension, piece by piece.

“I’m glad he slept through this,” you sigh softly, stroking his back gently.

“Me too. He’s too young to understand it.” I brush the curls away from his face. “Are you okay?” My eyes meet yours.

“It’ll take some time for the anger to wear off, but I’m glad he’s safe.”

I wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”

We walk in silence for a bit, the tension from the encounter still clinging to us. Finally, I speak again.

“I hate that we can’t just enjoy a simple walk without worrying about a paparazzo. It’s not fair.”

“I’m okay with them sneaking a picture of us, but he’s just a child. He should be able to have a normal childhood.” You lean into me, softly stroking Dorian’s back.

I sigh, feeling the tension in my shoulders melt away a bit as you lean into me. “You’re right. He deserves a normal life, not one where we have to constantly look over our shoulders.”

I look down at Dorian, his little face still peaceful in sleep. “I don’t want him growing up feeling like he’s under constant scrutiny. It’s not right.”

We reach a quiet spot, away from any crowds, and I stop, turning to face you.

“Promise me something?” I cup your face in my hand, looking into your eyes. “Promise me that, no matter what happens, we keep fighting for our family. Promise me that nothing will break us or come between us.”

I lean in closer, my voice softening. “I love you. And I love that little boy more than anything. We won’t let anything shatter this.”

Your expression softens as you lean into my touch. “Baby, I know that none of this is your fault. It’s a part of your job, and it’s something I knew came with you. I would never let them win.”

I exhale, the weight on my shoulders lightening a bit at your understanding.

“I know you get it. But sometimes it feels like I’m not doing enough to protect you and Dorian. Like I’m failing you both.” I run a hand through my hair, frustration and guilt mixing in my words. “It’s just… I hate feeling so powerless.”

“Hey.” You reach to gently stroke my cheek. “I feel safe and protected when you’re around. So does Dorian. Remember, cats don’t sleep with their bellies up if they don’t feel safe.”

I smile weakly at the metaphor. “Always with the animal facts.” I look down at the little one in your arms. “You and Dorian are everything to me. I just… I wish I could shield you from everything.”

“You are, love. You are our shield and our rock.” Your eyes hold nothing but sincerity in them.

“Promise me you’ll never doubt that. No matter what storms come our way.”

“I’m planning to grow old with you and watch him get married, together.” You smile softly.

I chuckle, picturing our future together. The thought warms my heart, though there’s a hint of worry too.

“Sounds like an ideal plan to me. But growing old together requires us to stay sane through all this chaos.”

I place a tender kiss on your forehead, holding you close.

“Together, right?”

“Always.” You smile.

I return your smile, feeling a bit lighter. “Good, because I can’t imagine going through any of this without you.”

We stand there for a moment, just holding each other in quiet solidarity. The city around us keeps buzzing, and the paparazzi incident is still on my mind. But right now, all I care about is you and our little family.

Dorian shifts a little in your arms. “Let’s get that takeout and go home.”

I nod, reluctantly letting go of you. “Yeah, let’s go.”

I take your hand, and we start walking again, this time a little quicker. I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of paparazzi, though it seems like the incident outside the playground has scared them off for now.

“How’s our little sleepyhead doing?” I ask, peeking over to look at Dorian.

“Still sleeping,” you smile softly.

I smile at the sight, my heart swelling with love. “He looks so peaceful.”

We grab pasta for Dorian from one of those fancy Italian restaurants and finally reach the Chinese takeout place—a little hole in the wall that we’ve grown to love. The smell of sizzling kung pao chicken and fried rice fills the air as we step inside.

I order our usual: a couple of beef teriyaki dishes and some crab rangoons. The owner, an old lady named Mrs. Liu, smiles warmly at us.

“Haven’t seen you two in a while.”

“We took a little vacation in Italy to grow this one,” you chuckle softly. “We did miss your cooking.”

Mrs. Liu beams at you. “Italy, eh? Sounds romantic.”

I nod, grinning. “It was. But nothing quite compares to your kung pao chicken.”

She chuckles, handing us our order in a brown paper bag. “You young folks and your lovey-dovey vacations. You’re making me miss my younger years.” She looks at Dorian with admiration in her eyes. “Ah, they grow up so fast. One day you’re changing diapers, and the next they’re off to university.”

I smile softly. “That’s why we try to cherish every moment with him.”

Mrs. Liu smiles. “Smart. I’m sure you two are great parents for a little one.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Liu,” your voice is soft. “We’ll be coming more often.”

“You’re always welcome here, my dear, you know that,” she beams. “And the little one too—he’s too adorable to say no to.”

Our house is dimly lit, takeout spread out on the bed, Dorian nestled safely between both of us, fast asleep, some movie playing in the background.

You’re picking at your food, quiet again—but this time, it’s the good kind of quiet. The kind that feels full.

I glance over. “You still thinking about it? The photo?”

You nod. “Not because of what he saw. But because he didn’t. He just slept through it all. Like he knew we had him.”

“We do,” I say simply.

You look over at me, eyes soft now, almost shimmering. “Can we keep doing this? Building something real, even in the middle of all the chaos?”

I lean over and press a kiss to your lips—slow and certain.

“We already are.”

And outside, the city keeps moving. But here, in this little pocket of stillness, we’re exactly where we need to be.

Current taglist: @pauli-loveslouistomlinson @cherryberrystompers @hontpwk @avensgreenvans @venusnettles @nanaisinmars @sincerely-yours-marsbar

[bllushbunniie]

harry is just the perfect man, actually uses his brain n is just overall irresistible ♡ both reader n harry are two cuties in luuvvv

fem reader, 18+, gardening, showering, and a boyfriend wearing sweatpants ie joggers- ur gonna love this one, I hope!!!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Oh now this was unfair.

Strike one happened this morning, you woke up to an empty bed- that one you could forgive; he often left you wrapped in the creamy soft duvet only to then bring you breakfast. But after ten minutes of sleepy sighs and rolling around trying to place yourself in a vaguely seductive position, he still didn’t turn up!

So, much to your dismay, you got yourself up, eager to find out where he could possibly be hiding.

‘Harry?’

Just as you were about to make your way downstairs, an image of your boyfriend found your peripherals. Your head shot around in surprise.

‘What are you doing, honey?’ you shouted as you opened up the small window overlooking your garden, smile on your face. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Last night, you had finished around a week’s work of gardening research. You were determined to have a flourishing haven, full of health blooms, happy plants and floral scented air. So you collected your tools, plant food and stored your brain with all the necessary information on how to prune, deadhead, and water.

Harry was constantly buying you bunches of flowers to decorate your shared home. Flowers which were already flourishing- florists who took the time to arrange the pink roses amongst the mini hydrangeas, with speckles of alstroemeria. Similarly, you loved when he bought you flowers that arrived in bud, taking a few days to blossom into their most pretty form. But you had always talked about making your own arrangements, from flowers that you had grown- maybe even gifting a few bunches to his Mum because you knew how much she always enjoyed flowers.

You had relayed all of your thoughts to Harry. He listened intently, relishing in the fact his girl was finding yet another passion and he was just so excited to see the finished result.

‘Baby, if you’re going to have the garden of your dreams, you best bet I’m going to help!’ he shouted back up you, garden sheers in on hand, other hand holding a branch full of wilted roses.

‘C’mon love, come and join me!—- oh and keep those cute pajamas on, yeah?’ he flirted.

He wasn’t a passive listener, oh no, he made sure to store all of the information from your rambles and use them accordingly.

He was good like that.

So good.

Made you feel funny.

~Butterflies in your tummy~ kinda funny.

You’re not sure he even knows how much it gets to you. How he takes everything you say into account and acts upon it without having to be prompted to. He’s naturally sweet by nature, but extra extra sweet on you. It’s why you’ll probably end up kissing him extra hard later on, give him anything he asks for.

♡

Strike two happened later on in the day. Not as big of a gesture but greatly appreciated nonetheless.

After a morning filled with falling petals and fleeting kisses, both of you decided to take a quick shower together.

‘Come here lovely girl. As much as I love those cute little pajamas, I think I need to get them off you, don’t you think?’ he teased, his hands already tracing the end of your pink tank top.

‘Um, I don’t think so mister!’ giggling as you shooed his hands away, quickly shuffling away to grab the hair mask you were so eager to use- placing it on the side of the bath to make sure everything was in arms reach whilst you showered.

‘Oh, I see, you’re being cruel, that’s it isn’t it, you want to hear me beg? Because you know I will, honey.’ but before he can turn around, he feels two delicate hands sneak around his middle.

He breathes out deeply through his nose as she squeezes around his middle, pressing herself up against his back.

‘Hush, silly boy.’ you laughed, placing the side of your head up against his back, rubbing your face slightly up against the cotton of his t-shirt. ‘I just wanted to make sure I’ve got everything. Besides, I wanted to do… this’, and with that, you slid your hand down towards the bottom of his top, lifting it slightly so you could get your hands on this skin just above his pyjamas bottoms. This is where your pretty, glittery nails came in handy.

Tracing along that line with your nails, a slight scratch. You know exactly how to make him shiver.

You found it a little amusing but mostly sexy how such a big, strong man like himself could be reduced to sighs and shivers just by the feeling of your perfectly manicured fingernails.

Your hands finding the end of his t-shirt now to take it over his head, he had to help of course, you were a little too small to pull it over his head.

‘You’re going to kill me, y’know’ he says, turning around in your arms, leaning forward to gift a little kiss on the end of your nose.

‘I know’ you beamed back, giving him a silly, toothy grin.

‘Right, enough of this little game you’re playing’, and with that, he dragged your top over your head followed by grabbing your hips to spin you around to pull your bottoms down too.

Disoriented with his quick movements, a little squeal leaves you when you feel his lips kiss your right bum cheek.

‘Harry!!!’

‘Got a cute little bum haven’t you, darling?’, casually stating as he rises to his feet, ushering you into to shower first. Following right behind you, eager to get you covered in warm water droplets.

You both took great pleasure in lathering the other in sweet smelling bubbles and seeing it rinse off both of your bodies.

You were sure you had the better end of the deal though, getting to see the soap run all the way from his hair, through the middle of his chest to somewhere much naughtier.

He would beg to differ however. He was utterly in love with everything about you. What could be better than seeing your skin all wet, hard nipples peaking through the bubbles that are coating your breasts? Yeah, he wins.

‘Let me give you a little head massage, yeah?’, lathering a handful of the lilac scented hair mask over the ends of your hair. He didn’t give you time to respond, he knew you’d love a massage, you loved any sort of touch he gave you.

‘I want to be partly responsible for how pretty your hair looks later on’, he croons, letting his fingers swirl against your scalp.

God, he was good. First it was him gardening and now he’s giving you an impromptu massage. It doesn’t help he accompanies each perfect action with teasing phrases to rile you up in just the right way.

♡

You ought to have predicted strike three really. But having it catch you by surprise made it even better.

How dare he just stand there, sipping on a cup of tea, light gray joggers hanging low on his hips.

He managed to evade you after you finished your shower. Both using your own separate dressing rooms to put on loungewear as you both had the afternoon free- planning on using that time to spend the time together, unbothered by the outside world.

Was he doing this on purpose?

You don’t suppose it matters really. He’s in for it now.

You march right over to him, grabbing his cup of tea. He allowed you to lift it from his hand and place it on the counter. A slight smirk on his lips, he had thought this might happen. You were such a little tease during your shower- rubbing him all over, making a little show of rinsing yourself off.

Lacing your fingers together, you pulled him from the kitchen, letting him trail behind you.

‘Sit’ you demanded as you reached your living room, guiding him towards the sofa.

He, of course, did as he was told.

He met your eyes, reaching his hand out, pulling your standing body in between his spread legs. Other hand pressing into the curve of your back, so his lips could meet your clothed lower stomach.

‘Not fair, Harry’, you pouted, a sigh leaving your lips, head falling back, your hands weaving their way through the damp strands of his freshly-washed hair.

‘What’s not fair, pretty girl?’ he says, muted by continuing kisses.

‘You’re going to make me melt’ you whined, head rolling forward, your hands pulling on his hair to tilt his head back.

‘Melt? Well we wouldn’t want that would we?

‘Why not?’ you raised your eyebrow

‘Well, then we couldn’t do this could we?’

He manoeuvred you with cocky confidence, allowing you to fall on top of him, your breasts pressing so close to his face, thighs spreading over his, pressing you as close as he possibly can.

‘I think my girl needs to be taken care of, doesn’t she? Too pretty for your own good.’ pushing your hair away from your shoulders, mouth meeting the top of your clothed breast, you couldn’t help but give a slight wiggle to your hips.

‘You know, I was planning to be the one in charge right now’ you gasped.

‘You still can be baby, just tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything.’

♡.

[ivykiss]

bratty beach day

࿐ dom!harry x babydoll!reader

cw: 18+, spanking, brat reader

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — the salty air and the rhythmic hum of the tires against the road were usually enough to lull you into a peaceful sleep after a long day at the beach, but today every pebble seemed to keep you wide awake and restless. harry glanced over, his eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to the road. he’d already asked you three times what was wrong, and each time you’d offered nothing but a shrug with your crossed arms and a pout. “i know you didn’t wanna go home babydoll but it’s gettin’ late.” his voice soft but warning. you whined, turning your back to him in the passenger seat. harry sighed, a sound just audible enough to let you know his patience was wearing thin. “just try to relax, yeah? we both had a long day.” but relaxing was the last thing on your mind.

with each mile your behavior seemed to worsen. you sighed louder, whined more, and tossed and turned in your seat. finally harry spoke again, his voice dangerously low. “alright, that’s it.” he pulled into a field in the middle of nowhere. “back.” he said undoing his seatbelt, your eyebrows furrowing confused. “get in the back.” his eyes darkened and his voice hardened.

you undid your seatbelt and climbed in the back with a lump in your throat. you knew you had pushed him too far, and now you were going to suffer the consequences. he sat besides you in the back and examined your face as you stared at him like a deer in headlights. he bent you over his lap and you knew what was next. you laid across his lap and let out a sniffle. “don’t cry now babydoll, i haven’t even started.” he pulled your shorts down. “you tease me all day at the beach wearing this.. and then act like a damn brat on the way home.” he tsked pulling down your bikini bottoms. “so wet f’me already and i haven’t even touched you.” you whined and put your head in your hands shyly. “count.” harry said as he started spanking you hard, rough, mean.

by the time he got to five you had tears in your eyes. “look at me babydoll.” he sighed. “are you gonna be a good girl now?” you nodded violently as he wiped your tears. “that’s my girl” he praised as he kissed your forehead softly.

[babyflorencee]

Little Spoon

Harry Styles x fem!Reader

The bedroom is bathed in a soft golden light, the kind that makes everything look honeyed and surreal, like a memory you don’t ever want to forget. The window is cracked open just enough for the summer night breeze to slip through, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of passing cars. The sheets smell like vanilla and clean linen, and Harry—faint traces of cologne, whiskey, and something sweet from the fruity drinks he kept stealing from Y/n at the party.

Harry's sprawled across the bed, limbs tangled in the sheets, his dark curls a mess against the pillows. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy, and his smile—wide and lazy—hasn’t left his face since they got home. Harry giggles, out of nowhere, shaking his head against the pillow.

“What’s so funny?” Y/n asks, still standing by the bathroom sink, brushing her hair.

“You,” Harry sighs dramatically, turning on his side to face Y/n. “You’re so far away, and I dunno why. Why are you over there?”

“I’m just getting ready for bed.”

“Don’t care,” he pouts. “Need you here.”

Harry flops back onto his back, letting out an exaggerated sigh, as he throws an arm dramatically over his eyes. “It feels like it's been forever. You’re taking forever. I'm so lonely in this big, cold bed without you. I'm practically wasting away from loneliness.”

Y/n rolls her eyes with a smirk, setting her brush down. “It's been like five minutes.”

“Feels like hours,” he mumbles dramatically, rolling onto his stomach, his face half-buried in the pillow. “Missed you so much. ‘S not fair. I’m all alone. So cold, and so lonely. I might not make it.”

Y/n laughs softly, taking her time as she applies lotion to her legs. “You’re so dramatic.”

“M’not,” he whines. “You don’t even care about me.”

Y/n peeks at Harry through the mirror and finds him pouting, arms crossed over the pillow. He wiggles closer to her side of the bed, reaching a hand out, fingers stretching toward her. “Come back. Please? You’ve been gone for, like… like… years.”

“Have not.”

“You have.” Harry groans, flopping onto his back. “I could die. Right here. In this bed. Just… perish.”

Y/n laughs, shaking her head. “Wow. What a tragic ending.”

“Mmhm,” he hums, voice muffled against the pillow. Then he gasps dramatically, eyes wide. “Baby. Babe. What if I die and you can never kiss me again?”

“Oh my god,” she snorts.

“No, really! That would be so sad. Like, Romeo and Juliet sad. Like, the saddest thing ever.” His bottom lip trembles, but it’s exaggerated, too much to be real.

Y/n bites her lip, suppressing a smile. “I’m pretty sure you’re not dying.”

“Can’t be too sure,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut. “Only one way to save me.”

“And what’s that?”

“A kiss,” he whispers dramatically, peeking at her through his lashes. “Just one. To revive me.”

Y/n crosses her arms. “So you’re sleeping beauty now?”

Harry grins, goofy and wide. “Yeah. I'm the prince, and I need a kiss, princess.”

Y/n shakes her head, pretending to ignore him as she moves on to moisturizing her arms.

Harry gasps, offended. “Wow, you’re just heartless.”

“Am not.”

“You are.” He shifts, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I’m just a poor boy. Cold and alone. With no kisses and no one to love.”

Y/n gives him a pointed look. “You are so drunk.”

“No, m’not,” he giggles. “I’m just wanting some love”

“That’s for sure.”

“I know you like it,” Harry says smugly, his voice slurring slightly.

Y/n doesn’t answer right away, just smirks and turns back to the mirror.

Harry lets out a groan. “Why are you still over there? What could possibly be more important than loving me?”

“My skincare.”

Harry gasps again. “Skincare over Harry?”

“Yes.”

“You wound me,” he mutters, pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been shot. “M'gonna cry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I might.”

Y/n rolls her eyes but takes her time finishing up. Harry watches her the entire time, big green eyes sleepy and lovesick, his smile dopey. When Y/n finally turns off the bathroom light and crawls into bed, Harry immediately latches onto her, pulling her into his arms.

But then, as quickly as he moves, he stops. Stiffens. Shies away.

Y/n raises a brow. “What's wrong?”

Harry buries his face in the pillow. “Nothin’.”

She leans in, brushing a hand through his curls. “What is it?”

Harry mumbles again, but it’s completely inaudible.

Y/n smirks, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I didn’t catch that.”

Harry groans, dragging the pillow over his head. “S’Nothin’. Now leave me alone and go to sleep.”

“No, tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me, or I’ll go back to the bathroom.”

Harry gasps, horrified. “You wouldn’t.”

Y/n moves like she’s about to get up. Causing Harry to panic, grabbing onto her arm. “Wait! Wait, okay! Just—stay. Please.”

Y/n smirks, victorious. “Then tell me.”

Harry lets out a heavy sigh, and then, in the softest voice, he murmurs, “I wanna be the little spoon tonight.”

Y/n's heart clenches. She lets out a wide smile, tucking her arms around his waist and pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re so cute.”

Harry groans, his face burning, but he still melts into her embrace, his fingers curling over hers, pulling her closer. “M’not cute.”

Y/n presses another kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger. “The cutest.”

“No, take it back,” he whines, voice muffled as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

“Nope.”

Harry groans again but doesn’t pull away. If anything, he pushes back against her body, fitting as perfectly into her arms as he could, causing the heat of his body to settle against hers, as if he were made for this. Harry exhales deeply and contently, as his fingers traced absentminded shapes against her forearm.

The city outside hums, as the breeze whispers through the curtains. Harry mumbles something that sounds like “I love you” but Y/n doesn’t ask him to repeat it. She just smiles, pressing one last kiss to his curls before they both drift into sleep, tangled together in the quiet hum of the night.

But then Harry wiggles again, turning in her arms just enough to face her, his eyes fluttering open with a drowsy smile. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey,” she whispers back, brushing some of his curls out of his eyes.

“I’m so happy right now,” Harry murmurs, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re so warm. And you smell so good, too.”

Y/n laughs softly. “You’re so drunk.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Harry giggles, tightening his arms around her. “But I still mean it. I love you. Like… so much. And I wanna stay like this forever.”

Y/n feels her heart swell, warmth spreading through her chest. She cups his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then his forehead, then his nose.

Harry giggles, scrunching it up. “That tickles.”

Y/n grins, pressing another kiss to his lips. “You’re adorable.”

“Stop,” Harry whines, hiding his face into her neck but still laughing. “I’m supposed to be, like, cool or whatever.”

Y/n runs her fingers through his curls, pressing one more kiss to his nose. “You’re perfect.”

He hums, his grip on her tightening, voice soft and dreamy. “M'gonna marry you someday.”

Y/n smiles against his skin, her own cheeks heating. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he sighs. “Best idea I’ve ever had.”

She laughs, hugging him closer. “I think so too.”

And with that, Harry finally drifts off, the happiest, most content little spoon in the world.

[cherryredz]

Ink & Heart

Harry Styles one-shot

Summary: Harry gets a new tattoo dedicated to you after years of being together and it's more meaningful than you thought

Warnings: none

Word count: 573

_______________________________________________

It was an ordinary afternoon when Harry came home, his sleeve rolled up slightly higher than usual, a faint glint in his eyes that suggested he was up to something. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a book, not suspecting a thing—until he stood in front of you, a boyish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“What’s with the smirk?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers casually tugging at the edge of his sleeve like he wasn’t sure whether to play it cool or just spill. “Went out today. Got a new tattoo.”

You sat up instantly, book forgotten. “Another one? Show me!”

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Wait. Lemme explain first.” He sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours. His gaze softened, that glint turning into something warmer, deeper. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Wanted something small, but… meaningful.”

Your heart skipped, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling inside you.

He slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing fresh ink—simple yet beautiful. It was a delicate outline of a small paper plane, its path drawn with a fine, looping line that subtly shaped into an infinity symbol. Right at the end of the trail was a tiny heart.

You blinked, taking it in. “A paper plane?” you whispered, tracing the air above his skin, careful not to touch the fresh ink.

Harry nodded, his voice softer now. “Remember when we first met? You were sitting in that café, doodling little paper planes in your notebook. You told me they reminded you of freedom, of not being tied down, of going wherever your heart wanted.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. That was such a small detail from years ago—something you’d probably mentioned in passing. But he remembered.

“I guess,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “you’re my paper plane. You changed the way I see life, love… everything. You made it feel like an adventure. And the little heart?” He smiled sheepishly. “Well, that’s where you landed. Right here.” He tapped his chest gently.

You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up, blurring the tattoo in front of you.

“Harry,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion.

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tear that escaped. “Didn’t mean to make you cry, love.”

“They’re good tears,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, one filled with gratitude, love, and all the unspoken words you couldn’t seem to find. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered. “Just like you.”

Harry smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah. Just a man hopelessly in love with his paper plane.”

_______________________________________________

Something small. Hope you like it <3

[nialls-golf-putt]

can you write one where niall has just played the biggest show of his career and his gf is very proud of him and they end up having some dirty sex and maybe a bit of sub/dom as well?

Summer Skin Pressed on Mine

A/N: Alright a quick filthyyy one it's just pwp, i didn't go too hard on dom!Niall causeee well 🤷‍♀️ he's still a soft dom if you squint, let's gooo

CW : Dom/Sub dynamics, oral (m recieving), teabagging, praise kink, choking, breathplay, teeny tiny sweat kink (whoops?), even tinier humiliation kinky (he uses slut like twice at best) and uhhh dirty talk as always i spose

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been one of his biggest nights ever. He'd been talking to you about it since they say they announced the tour, and watching him sell out not only one but two nights at the MSG might've been one of the proudest moments of your life.

He'd flown you out for the two shows, of course, and even though you'd had to stand in one of the boxes above instead of being in the pit in front of the stage like you would have wanted to, you already knew it was going to be one of your favourite memories.

You'd ended up crying when he came on stage, guitar in hand, looking like a wet dream, and again when he'd broken down during his speech thanking the fans, and once more when he and the band took their final bows. You weren't even ashamed of the number of tissues you went through.

You'd slipped back to the hotel, knowing him and the band would be a while before they got back, wanting him to get to properly celebrate with them too. You had plenty ideas of your own for a celebration when he got back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He took a bit longer than expected, but as soon as you heard the soft snick of the key card in the hotel room's door you were up on your feet, pulling him into a huge hug.

"Darlin', I'm still sweaty off the stage," he chuckled, lifting his arms a bit.

"Don't care," you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, pulling his arms down and around you before wrapping your own tightly around his waist, squeezing him.

You didn't know how long you stood there, breathing in his spicy cologne, the familiar musky smell of his sweat and the faintest bitter hint of hops from the beer he must've had.

"Pet, you still with me?" Niall mumbled after a bit, sounding amused as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his neck, the metal of his chain cold against your lips before pulling back to look at him.

"'M just so so proud I feel like I could burst and I really don't have words for it," you admitted.

He just gave you a smile soft enough to make you melt, his eyes glinting a bit. "Baby, I know, alright? I feel it. Don't go getting soppy or I'll end up cryin'. Again. And lord knows I've done my fair share of that already,"

You smiled, finally letting go of him, sitting down on the edge of the bed, watching him take off the vest he'd worn, and then the tank top. It almost felt like a sort of dance, the grace with which he always undressed.

In the beggining of your relationship, you'd been too busy tearing off each other's clothes whenever you took them off to ever properly notice, but through the years of waking up and going to bed together, getting dressed for events and undressed after, you'd developed an appreciation for all the little things he did.

"Stop starin' at me like that, or I'm gonna blush," He said jokingly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "I'm just gonna take a shower real quick, pet. I'll be out in a bit. You get your pretty ass in bed, yeah? I want post concert cuddles."

You hummed, pressing a kiss to the centre of his chest where he was still standing in front of you. His hair tickled your face a bit, and he smelled like sweat mixed with his favourite deodorant, but you really didn't mind.

Niall laughed softly, running his fingers through your hair before gently pulling your head back from where it was nuzzled against him, ruffling your hair fondly before letting go.

"You're such a freaky little thing, sometimes it scares me, princess," He grinned teasingly. "Makes me afraid to-"

"Fuck off," you giggled, picking up one of the throw pillows and halfheartedly throwing it towards him. He caught it with a soft chuckle, a wide grin on his face.

"You're gonna pay for that, darlin'," He said, that familiar twinkle in his eye as he threw the pillow back at you, landing against you with a soft thud, still laughing as you picked it back up. He shut the door before you could throw it back at him, his loud laughter echoing through the room even through the thick door, saying something that you couldn't quite make out but sounded suspiciously like 'your cute little ass is gonna regret that'.

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A few minutes later, the soft sounds of the water echoing against the tiles stopped, and you looked up from your phone, a thoroughly scrubbed looking Niall emerging from the door, towel wrapped around his waist.

His cheeks were slightly pink from the warm water, his hair still damp and sticking to his forehead. You could see a few stray drops of water his towel must've missed glinting against his pecs and you wanted nothing more than to lick them off.

You'd been sitting on the bed wrapped in one of the fluffy hotel robes, and as soon as you saw him, you made grabby hands at him, pouting without even realising it.

"Can I at least put on my pants first, babe?" He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Absolutely not. Less to take off later, c'mere," You demanded, your hands still outstretched.

He let out a fond sigh, rolling his eyes as he drew the blankets back. Before he could sit down, however, you pointedly stared at him, eyes raking over his body, lingering at his happy trail leading down into his towel, tutting softly.

"What now?!" He exclaimed, rolling his eyes as he pulled the towel off before slipping in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist instinctively, pulling you in closer to him.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the clean scent of his body wash before pressing your lips to the soft skin at the base of neck. Your leg wrapped around his waist without even thinking, pressing closer to him.

"Pet, are you in one of your moods again?" He asked, fond exasperation apparent in his voice.

"What mood?" You mumbled grumpily against his skin, drawing your head back just enough to look him in the eye.

"'Cause if you wanted me naked in the bed, you coulda just asked instead of bein' a pouty little brat, yknow that, right, princess?" He hummed, hoisting your leg a bit higher on his waist until you were pressed up against him, his skin slightly damp and soft against yours.

"I dunno what you're talking about," You grumbled, not ready to give in just yet.

"Oh, we're playin' it like that then, are we?" He grinned, wrapping your hair around his hand, tugging it gently once. "C'mon, then," He said, his hands firm on your hips as he maneuvered you around, ignoring you giggling protests until you were lying almost completely on top of him.

You exhaled softly, cheek pressed against his chest, pressing lazy kisses wherever you could reach. You could feel him stirring under you, his semi becoming more and more apparent against your stomach even through the thick robe.

You gently bit down on one of his pecs, shifting till you were resting between his legs.

"That's a good girl," Niall murmured, his voice already a bit raspy, his hands fumbling with the sash tied around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', back up a bit."

You quickly complied, lifting off him just enough, shrugging the thick cotton off your shoulders, lying back down on him as he threw it off somewhere, landing with a soft flump.

"Love you so so much," You whispered into his skin, punctuating each word with a kiss.

"Me too, sweet pea," Niall mumbled, his palms rough against your back, lazily stroking down your back before resting lazily just above the curve of your ass. He paused for a moment, kissing the top of your head, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin.

"Go on, then, darlin',"

He didn't even have to specify. You had become so in tune with him, with the unsaid directions, the way his body would betray his soft gentleness despite his firm words.

You met his eyes for a moment, leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum, eyes closed as you let yourself feel the warmth, the softness of his skin. You let your tongue dart out, tracing the planes of his hipbones, his erection becoming more and more apparent against you by the minute.

You could feel yourself throbbing, your clit aching for attention, but in the moment, you just wanted to be good for Niall. You wanted to show him just how proud you were, to fulfill his every need. He was all that mattered.

You trailed your lips along his thighs, the hair tickling you slightly, smiling against his skin, going down to his knee and kissing the scar before starting back up, curving along the muscle to his inner thigh.

His breathing kept hitching every so often, and even though you hadn't looked up you knew his eyes were firmly on you.

"Princess, if you think you're going to get away with teasin' me-"

"I'm not teasing," You interrupted before he could finish.

"Don't be a brat," Niall snapped, but even despite the firm tone, the way his hand wrapped around your hair was gentle, and when he pulled you back to meet his eyes-

"They're so blue, yknow?" You blurted out.

"What?" He asked with a small amused smirk.

"Your eyes," You said, rolling your own

"You're being a brat again."

"I'm trying to be romantic."

"Well I'd rather you try to be a good girl and put your mouth on my dick."

That shut you up. Your eyes widened, and you nodded, kissing him softly before kneeling again as he spread his legs a bit further for you.

You met his eyes, reaching out to slowly stroke him.

"Nuh uh. No hands," Niall smirked.

You exhaled, giving him a small eye roll before holding your wrist behind your back. This made life a lot more difficult.

You kissed his inner thigh again, biting at the soft skin, moaning for no reason at all. You could smell him, you could feel his warmth- and even though he hadn't even technically done anything yet, you could feel yourself getting floaty.

You blindly kissed along the skin, breathing him in, letting his soft sounds wash over you, tongue darting along the seam of his balls. You inhaled before taking one into your mouth, sucking gently, smirking a bit at how loud he instantly moaned. Bet he hadn't expected that.

"Christ, darlin', just like that-" His voice was raspy, his hands were firm in your hair.

You switched to the other, wishing badly you could've just rolled them between your fingers but oh well.

"'M so fucking proud of you. Like, so proud. Love you so much," You mumbled, pulling off, kissing along the underside of his cock, following the prominent vein.

He was leaking precum against his abs, you noticed, and intentionally pressing your breasts against his length, you moved to lick it off his skin, eyes on his.

"Love you too, babe. You're makin' me feel so good. Keep goin', yeah?"

You nodded slightly, fumbling a bit before finally slipping his head in your mouth. You sucked softly, hollowing your cheeks, tongue drawing out as much precum as you could, teasing his slit, savouring how it felt on your tongue.

"Mngh, what'd I say about teasin' me-"

You looked up at him, widening your eyes innocently before taking him all the way in one go. You gagged slightly, your nose brushing his skin, eyes watering a bit, but didn't move, staying there.

The gasp he'd let out belonged in a museum. The way his back had arched belonged in a museum. The way he'd moaned your name- It was the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen, stuffed full of cock or not.

You stayed there until you felt a bit lightheaded, pulling off just enough to suck in a shallow breath before starting to move. You'd thought you'd be slow, calculated, draw it out for him, but the moment his eyes met yours, the devotion in them apparent even as he firmly guided your head, all control was out of the window.

It was sloppy, messy, desperate, almost. You could hear the wet sounds, and somewhere in the back of your mind you knew it was you, but the only thing you could feel in the moment was the weight of him on your tongue, and the way he was looking at you. Your entire world had been narrowed down to that much.

Niall groaned deeply again, his head pressing back against the pillow. "Sweetheart, you need to- fuck, slow down- or I'm not gonna last."

You wanted to listen. You wanted to be good and pull off but you couldn't. He just felt so good. So addictive.

"Princess, slow down," He said firmly, before tugging on your hair when you didn't, sending tears prickling in your eyes as he pulled you off. "Look at me."

He waited till you met his eyes, sitting back on your heels. "i'm going to need you to listen and be good for me. I don't feel like punishing you today, sweetheart."

His voice was gentle, his hands were all over you. It was nice. You felt nice. You felt empty, too, though. So so empty. You pouted slightly at him, but he gave you a soft fond chuckle, wiping your eyes instead.

"You're already gone, aren't you?" When you didn't reply, he shook his head fondly. "Colour, sweetheart?"

Colour. Right. Um. You were supposed to speak. You nodded. Green. Wait. You had to speak out loud. "Green," You finally managed to say.

Niall, who'd been looking ever so slightly concerned, nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Get on all fours, then."

You nodded, watching him place a pillow by the headboard, smiling slightly as you arched your back, waist down, cheek against the sheets.

"Pretty girl," He breathed out, getting a handful of your ass, squeezing gently. "Soaking wet for me," He mumbled, his fingers swiping through your slit.

Your back arched further, hips pressing back into the touch, realising how badly you needed him as soon as his dick was out of your mouth.

"Drippin' down your thighs," He chuckled, his fingers sticking slightly as he teased you, his chest pressed against your back, breath warm on your ear, his dick rubbing against your ass every so often, smearing his precum against your skin. "Take a good deep breath, princess."

You barely registered his words, inhaling, and his fingers were wrapped around your throat, and the very moment he squeezed, sending you floating further, he pushed forward, filling you up deliciously as he constricted your breath.

You wanted to moan, you wanted to call his name, you wanted to reply to the sweet words he was mumbling in your ear but god, none of it mattered. You could've sworn you felt every ridge, every vein, dragging sooo well against all your spots, taking a shaky breath each time he relieved some of the pressure on your throat.

"Get even tighter when I'm chokin' ya, such a good little slut for me," He broke off with a deep groan as you clenched harder ar his words. "Jesus, darlin'."

And then his mouth was on your ear, teeth latching gently to each of the piercings in turn, tugging just enough to have you arching further into his touch, getting more lightheaded by the second.

You could feel his balls slapping against your clit every so often with a particularly hard thrust, sending further sparks through your body.

"Good girl, fuck- You're taking it so fuckin' well, baby," His breath was hot against your skin, goosebumps running down your already oversensitive skin.

"Close, pet?" He mumbled, sucking at the base of your neck as you nodded. The teasing, the breathplay, his filthy mouth- It was a wonder you hadn't come already.

He let go of your neck and you automatically drew in a deep breath, the sudden rush of air making you even dizzier, if anything. And then suddenly you were completely empty. You whined as you realised he'd pulled out, hips pushing back instinctively.

"Sweetheart, stop bein' such a needy little slut," He chuckled, tapping your hip. "I just wanted to see your face when you come, c'mon, turn around."

Oh. Oh.

Biting your lip, you turned around, spreading your legs without his having to ask, pulling him down for a kiss as soon as he was pressed up against you. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit with every thrust.

"Ni, I'm-" You gasped, pulling away for breath as he sat back slightly, his hands angling your hips up slightly.

"Come on, darlin'. Give it to me. Fall apart on my cock, baby," His fingers were on your clit in an instant, drawing tight little circles, rubbing it just the way you liked. "C'mon, princess. Be a good girl and come all over my cock."

Your hips were lifting up the mattress with each thrust, eagerly meeting his, head pushing into the pillow, eyes closed as you bit your lip.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Squeeze me tight, go on," And christ, this man's mouth. "Milk me with that pretty little cunt, baby, give it to-"

You were sure the noises coming out of you weren't even in your control anymore. It was all him, his fingers his mouth his fucking cock. He was everywhere, his scent was everywhere, the room smelled like sex and his sweat and his shampoo and his weight was on you, and you could feel him pulsing ever so slightly, warm cum filling you up.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight through his orgasm, his hips stuttering against yours, shaking your head as he tried to pull back.

"Keep it in," You mumbled, as he gingerly shifted you both, whining as he pulled out for a moment before slipping back in as soon as he had positioned you over his chest.

"My arms were dead, idiot. I was just gettin' comfy. You get so needy for my cock it's almost unreal. Cock dumb little princess," He chuckled, his fingers threading through yours, free hand carding through your hair.

"Don't call me an idiot when your cock is still in me," You mumbled, playfully biting his pec.

"I'll do whatever I like, don't get bratty," He grinned, halfheartedly slapping your ass with a tired arm. "Love you."

"Love you so much," You smiled back, pressing a kiss to the bite mark. "Doof." You added with a grin of your own.

"Way to treat your man." He deadpanned with a small smirk he couldn't quite hide all the way.

"Exactly the way," You giggled, kissing him before pulling back with a mischievous smile. "'M not done with you, just so you know."

"Let me get my arms back and you can show me just how proud you are, alright?"

"Deal."

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A/N: we're getting back on track! Let's go

Feel free to send me bot/fic requests in my inbox/dms. Or hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! Much love! Comments and reblogs always appreciated

Taglist: @loverniallts @latedirectionerera @pansexualdarling @ohreyyy @dapimpisere1325 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @sturniolosangel @cleargothfanpurse @tjwoldham

[xojennyboo]

Harry Smut Imagines

Hello everyone! I have officially created my masterlist of everything I've written so far. Thank you to everyone that has read my writing on wattpad and on here. Please do not hesitate to submit in your requests of any imagine that you want. Don't forget to follow and like. Thank you!

My Wattpad!

Smut

Brits

Pregnancy Cravings

Love of My Life

Welcome Back

Christmas Dinner

All Night Long

Merry Christmas

Happy New Year

Birthday Wishes

Late Night Shower

Happy Birthday Harry

Roomates

Baby Bliss

Valentine's Day

Unexpected

Beautiful

Friends

Through thick and thin

Work Relations

Affair

Darling

Morning Bliss

In the club

Series

Mother Part 1

Mother Part 2

Mother Part 3

Mother Part 4

Crush Part 1

Crush Part 2

Blurbs

Lucy

[bonesandchalamet]

Italy - h.styles

pairing: husband!harry styles x wife!reader

warnings: fluff

a/n: he looks so husband material in the latest Italy pictures!!! enjoy this lil blurb xx

you’d lay in the sun until you could become leather, or until the alcohol washed away and you were suddenly aware of the rays piercing down into your skin.

you’re laying at the head of the boat, towel underneath you collecting sweat and salty water droplets while you drift into sleep. you only wake the sound of a bottle squeezing out sunscreen and your husbands warm hands rubbing the cream into your skin.

“you’re going to get sun poisoning if you don’t wear this.” he mutters while furiously working his hands across your stomach to evenly distribute the SPF 30 to protect your skin.

“I’m fine, h.” you protest, but have no strength to push him off, just allowing him to help you.

“when you’re so red you can’t move tomorrow I’ll be the one to laugh.” he smiles, a chuckle escaping his lips before he places a gentle kiss to your Rudolph colored nose.

the rays of Italy were brutal. they were not kind like the sun in England that could give you just the perfect glow for the week or two. Italy’s sun loves to eat up pasty white skin and make anyone redder than a lobster.

he throws his leg over your waist and effortlessly pulls you closer to him, “you should drink some water or else you’ll get sick.” he reminds you with another kiss, this time into the crook of your neck. he burrows his nose into you, lips wrapped around your skin his teeth sink into the redness marking his territory.

“harry, stop.” you can’t fight the giggles or the gasps of air he has you in. you’re both so completely unaware of the passengers on board. he’s pulled you into a different universe with his tongue, lips, and teeth.

“alright, alright,” he pulls himself away finally. he swings his leg off of you sitting up right, “so water?”

“yes please.”

[lazysoulwriter]

good boy - harry styles.

It wasn’t something you planned to say. It just slipped out, rolling off your tongue like it had always belonged there. Harry was sprawled out on your couch, his head resting on your lap, eyes closed as your fingers lazily ran through his curls. The soft glow of the TV flickered against his skin, but neither of you were paying attention to the movie anymore.

“You’re all relaxed, aren’t you?” you murmured, your nails gently scratching his scalp. A small hum left his lips, followed by a contented sigh. “Feels nice.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest at the way he melted under your touch. His face was soft, peaceful, and utterly at ease. Then, without thinking, it came out—soft, teasing, affectionate.

“Good boy.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open instantly, and you felt his whole body tense slightly against you. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything right away—just blinked up at you, like he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

You froze. “What?”

His brows furrowed for a split second before something else took over—a slow, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Say that again.” Your cheeks warmed, realizing the effect those two words had on him. “What, ‘good boy’?”

His breath hitched just barely, but you caught it. “Yeah. That.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, testing the waters. “You like that?”

He swallowed hard, fingers twitching against your thigh before curling around it, his touch firmer than before. “Maybe.” Your smirk grew, and you leaned down, your voice dropping into a whisper just for him.

“Good boy.”

This time, you didn’t miss the way his fingers dug into your skin, or the way his breath stuttered. His eyes darkened, something flickering behind them—something deeper, more intense.

"Careful, love," he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher, thick with something unspoken. His fingers trailed up your thigh, slow and deliberate. "Keep saying that, and I might have to show you just how good I can be."

Your stomach flipped at the implication, heat curling low in your belly. You raised a brow, pretending to be unfazed, but your voice betrayed you—just a little breathier than before.

"Oh?" You dragged your nails through his curls again, tugging just slightly. "Is that a promise, Styles?"

His smirk deepened as he sat up, shifting so that his face was mere inches from yours. His eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your gaze again, a silent challenge dancing in them. "Not a promise," he murmured, voice like honey, smooth and slow. "A guarantee."

[uhuhmaries]

If It Lingers, Why Leave?

Summary: The night in Tokyo wasn’t supposed to happen. But between the bubble bath, red wine, and quiet confessions, resisting him becomes impossible. Now it’s slower, deeper—dangerous. And when you walk away, you’re not sure if it’s really over… or just beginning.

First Part: https://www.tumblr.com/uhuhmaries/785892265077948416/the-tension-between-us

Warnings: nsfw (18+), bathtub intimacy, slow sex, emotional vulnerability, post-hookup tension, unprotected sex, emotional cheating, soft dom!harry, reader has a situationship, light drinking, emotional confusion, paparazzi mention, angst

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

You ask him softly, almost shyly:

“Can I take a bath?”

He doesn’t say a word. Just lets out a chuckle, nods, and disappears into the ensuite.

A few minutes later, you hear the water running. When you walk in, the lights are dimmed to a soft golden glow. Lavender-scented bubbles climb to the rim. A bottle of red wine sits uncorked on the counter with two crystal glasses.

Harry’s sitting slightly at the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled, checking the temperature like it’s second nature.

“Didn’t know what scent you liked,” he says, glancing over his shoulder, voice low. “So I guessed. Hope it’s alright.”

It’s more than alright.

It’s too much. It’s intimate. Thoughtful. Gentle. Dangerous.

It was supposed to be a one-time fan hookup.

You murmur a thank you, and he steps back, eyes flickering down your body just once before he says, “I’ll give you a moment. Shout if you need anything.”

But something inside you—maybe the wine, maybe the ache—speaks before your mind can catch up.

“You could… stay. If you want.”

There’s a beat. He looks back at you.

Then: “You sure?”

You nod. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

Harry doesn’t answer right away. He just walks over to the counter, pours two glasses, and sets one beside the tub. He sheds his shirt and watches you with quiet intensity as you slip out of your robe and step into the bath.

It’s warm. Soft. Safe.

And then he joins you.

Across from you, one knee bent, wine glass in hand, his skin wet and glistening under the low light. The silence isn’t awkward. It’s heavy. The kind that says everything without a word.

He speaks first. “You’ve been quiet.”

You glance down, swirling your glass. “Just… thinking.”

“About earlier?”

You nod.

Harry rests his arm on the edge of the tub, swirling his wine. “I don’t want to make this harder for you than it already is.”

“You didn’t. I’m just… a big over-thinker and this just seems unreal.”

You pause, then whisper, “I still cannot believe it.”

His eyes flick up as you part your lips, about to admit something you’ve been avoiding.

“I have someone back home. Not official. Not… fulfilling, either.” You huff out a soft laugh. “But being here, with you… it’s messing with my head.”

He watches you carefully. “Messing how?”

“Like I don’t want it to be a one-time thing,” you admit. “And I know it should be.”

There’s silence again.

Harry sets his glass aside. Moves closer until one of your legs drapes over his. He doesn’t touch you (yet) but you feel it anyway: the pull. The gravity.

“This is not a normal thing for me to do. I hope you know it,” he murmurs. “At the bar… hair all messy. Lips still swollen. Barely walking straight. You went back to your table like nothing happened… and I wanted to stop you.”

Your breath catches.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask.

“I figured if I did… you wouldn’t leave at all.”

His hand slides under the water, gentle against your thigh. He leans in.

“I’m trying to be good,” he whispers, mouth inches from yours. “But it’s hard when you’re right here. All soft and wet and lookin’ at me like that.”

You lean forward, lips barely brushing. “Then don’t be.”

That’s all it takes.

His hand finds your waist, pulling you into his lap. The water sloshes around you as he kisses you slow, filthy, wet kisses like he’s tasting memories of last night. His fingers trail between your legs beneath the bubbles, finding you already aching.

“We can’t….” he whispers against your mouth.

You nod. “Agreed. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

He lifts you gently, aligning himself beneath the waterline. You both pause, breathless, staring into each other.

“This might make things messier,” he says softly, tip sliding in inch by slow inch.

“It’s kinda too late for that, Styles.” You whisper.

He groans quietly. “Fuckin’ hell…”

And then he’s inside you—deep and slow, arms tight around your waist as your bodies adjust, like puzzle pieces fitting back together. No rushing. No hard thrusts. Just tension and softness and breathless want.

You move together like it means something. Every slow thrust feels heavier than the last, laced with guilt and longing, like you’re both clinging to something you know you shouldn’t want. But you’re only human. And so is he.

Harry’s breathing stutters as he starts to pull out, but you wrap your legs tighter around him, hips tilting up to meet his. Your release crashes over you, and the way your body clenches around him steals his restraint.

“Fuck—” he gasps, voice breaking as he spills inside you, undone by the way you take him so willingly.

Afterward, the silence is warm. You both slip into the shower, skin to skin, rinsing off the mess like it’ll make the situation cleaner than it really is. You wash his hair; he rinses yours.

There’s laughter between the soap and steam, soft smiles in between the tangle.

But neither of you say what you’re both thinking.

Because it will be too much.

Later, after a long, silent moment tangled up in bed sheets, his fingers play with your hair and he murmurs, “Stay.”

You shift. “What about tomorrow?”

“We’ll worry about that then.”

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You wake up before sunrise. Quietly get dressed. He watches from the bed, eyes sleepy but soft, like he’s memorizing you.

“You’re really not gonna leave your number?” He asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice, eyes following you as you pick up your bag.

You smirk over your shoulder, heart pounding.

“If you ever play a show in any city that I’m in at the moment… I’ll find you then.”

You don’t say goodbye. Just kiss him once more and leave.

You step out of the hotel lobby, heart heavier than your suitcase. The air feels thicker now—like everything that happened upstairs is already slipping away. You don’t know how you’re going to move past it… but life has a way of dragging you forward, whether you’re ready or not. Reality hits harder than his goodbye.

As you walk the quiet Tokyo streets, heading back toward your own hotel, you tell yourself this is the end.

But then your phone buzzes. You glance down— and freeze.

A blurry paparazzi photo is already making the rounds. A shadowy silhouette of a woman leaving the building where Harry Styles is ‘allegedly’ staying.

Your silhouette.

Your friends are still asleep when you return. But you?

You’re wide awake.

Still wondering what this was ever meant to be.

If it meant anything at all.

And whether Harry… even has the space in his world to wonder the same.

You try not to hope.

But fuck, it lingers.

Right there in the silence between your steps, and in the ache you carry all the way home.

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📝 Author’s Note:

DO WE LIKE IT????????? I’m sorry it turns out to be such an emotional WRECK….. (i’m just a girl 🙂‍↕️). I honestly think I still can milk this one out to be a series…. Let me know, let me know.

Ps. Thank you so much for showing so much love to the very first one “The Tension Between Us”!!!! It means so much!! I loved writing it, and I hope you’re loving it just as much. I promise I’ll never leave you hanging too long. 💌

Third Part!!! Two Night Stand

[lilystyles]

wildest dreams.

part two of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist & style masterlist

authors note the very requested part two of style. i got lots of asks & reblogs & comments asking for more of style!H so i decided to write one for y'all. thanks for all the love on it. also there was one ask i got with the idea of y/n going on a blind date and i LOVED it so thank u anon 🩷

brief description y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn’t like it one bit.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (f!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, missionary, riding, very slight breeding kink, no condom, all the good stuff) sexual tension, mentions of drugs&alcohol abuse. wordcount: (around 15k words)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry arrived at Y/n’s massive and buzzing share house almost twenty minutes before eight.

He’d parked his car nearby and quietly realised to himself on the walk up the driveway that he’d never actually been inside the sharehouse before. He had dropped her off a fair few times and picked her up a handful from here but Y/n preferred to come stay at his place. He couldn’t blame her, Niall’s place was similar he lived in one of the frats nearby campus. His room and the house were disgusting and Harry much preferred his clean quiet house with his sister. Even though Harry was in a frat too, he lived out of the house. The only reason those guys had welcomed him into the frat in the first place was because he was on the Uni soccer team and he was really good. His room was turned into a storage room for alcohol, dartboards, and bongs. Harry had hooked up with a few girls in there regardless of the lack of bed.

He felt a funny feeling in his tummy walking up the driveway, since when did he get nervous? He’d been with so many people he didn’t think that existed for him anymore. But this was different, this wasn’t just anyone this was Y/n. His Y/n. The girl from home.

He looked up at the house biting his lip, Y/n’s place certainly wasn’t as trashy as Alpha Chi Sigma, thankfully. Hers was a little ways off campus it was this old run-down brick house with two stories and eight rooms. It was jam-packed with students and actually threw quite a few parties, known on campus for its great big backyard and one of Y/n’s roommate Mike's weed brownies. Y/n didn’t care all that much when parties happened, she’d either invite Emma and they’d have lots of tequila and end up asleep in Y/n’s room, or she might even invite Harry and his mates too just for fun. Otherwise she just locked her room and escaped to the library or the Styles’ place. 

As Harry reached the big red door he knocked loudly and a short girl opened the door before his knuckles had even retracted back to his side. He recognised her from his Economics class, he thought. She was in some pyjamas and looked up very confused.

“You're not the Chinese guy.” She said eyeing him annoyedly, groans escaped the mouths of others inside, and he could understand their disappointment. “Who are you?”

This made Harry feel suddenly rather guilty for not being the Chinese delivery guy and he frowned, “I’m Harry, ‘m a friend of Y/n’s?”

“Upstairs third door to your left.” She said shortly opening the door wide enough to let him in before promptly sitting back down on the couch with a bunch of other students, they were watching what looked like a Japanese horror film. 

Harry shut the door behind him and made his way upstairs quickly, Y/n’s roommates didn’t seem all that friendly, he hoped was going in the right direction. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard music coming from one room that sounded like a rave and knew that definitely wasn’t Y/n’s room, he heard people chatting away in another, and when he was at the third door he saw a small sign on the door that said ‘Y/n’s Room <3’. He smiled at the familiar neat handwriting that was on so many birthday cards in his collection, and knocked on the door, with a few quick taps.

He heard some shuffling behind the door and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. There she was, his Y/n. Even though he’d only seen her a few hours ago it felt like a long time ago now. How did he already miss her?

“You're here early, Styles.” She said surprised checking the time on her phone in her hand. Harry didn’t seem the type to show up early, and normally he didn’t Y/n knew that about him from years of experience. He was even late to his own birthday parties and if you asked a single person who had hooked up with him they’d say he was always late when they invited him over. Just his way. He wasn’t a timely person.

Harry smiled down at her form, she looked much more rested than this morning. She had taken a nap for a good portion of the morning and a long shower cleaning every inch of herself, she felt very rejuvenated now. The warm water had soothed her aching muscles and small bruises that littered her body from last night. She’d washed off all the sweat and alcohol that had sweated out of her this morning, and her hangover had eased, thank god. She had taken some aspirin for her head too and drank lots and lots of water. 

She looked so soft and cosy, the golden light of her room hit her face, showing all the angles of her calm expression. She was wearing this matching tracksuit set that was a blue almost grey colour, and some fuzzy pink socks Emma bought her for Christmas last year. Her hair was freshly washed, dried, and styled in her usual way. Her beautiful face was bare of makeup only some moisturiser that smelt really good, and her lips were covered in a glossy lip balm.

“Wanted to make a good impression, Babe.” He said smirking. 

Y/n let him join her inside shaking her head, it was very unlike him to be on time and she’d expected he would arrive around 8:30 instead of 8. He placed his bag of snacks and DVDs down onto her little bed taking in the space. 

Her room was so her, she had this big mattress on the floor that took up most of her room. Her sheets were mismatched shades of pink, blue, and lavender and she had about a dozen pillows. She had lots of fairy lights strung up, posters, and photos covering her walls. Her mattress and little desk by her window near the back of the room took up most of the small space. But if she had picked a bigger room that meant having a roommate so she didn’t mind all that much.

It was quite neat in here. She had all her desk organised with her laptop and textbooks. Her cupboard had somehow miraculously shut despite the large array of clothes stuffing it. She had a candle burning that smelt like cinnamon cookies, but underneath the candle was the underlying smell of her. Whether that was her laundry detergent or something that was just her, Harry didn’t know, but the smell brought him great comfort.

He shrugged off his big thick coat too, the day had turned into a windy-rainy one and he wanted to stay warm, but Y/n’s room was very warm inside. He was in an ashen grey hoodie with red flannel over the top, some black jeans and sneakers. His hair was unruly as always but he looked extra good today. He made himself comfortable on the bed grabbing a pink bear and cuddling it to his chest playfully. He dwarfed her bed with his tall form, and he looked so funny sitting in her bed. Harry Styles, sex god, player, and party animal, with a rotten attitude, was curled up in her bed. She almost wanted to take a picture to show people, but she knew she wouldn’t be telling a soul about him being with her tonight.

“I’ve known you for years I already have all the impressions needed, Harry.”

He looked over at her from her bed. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me on a date before, have yeh? I can be wholesome.”

What? This is a date? 

Y/n blushed deeply, if she’d known that this was a date she would have dressed a bit nicer. She was just in some joggers and a hoodie, but to be fair to her they were her nice ones. The ones lacking ice cream stains and holes. Harry had seen her looking like a hungover mess, he’d seen her in the middle of the night at the library, he’d seen her with the flu, and she never looked bad even at her worst.

“This is a date?” She asked looking down at her sock-covered feet.

She’d been dreaming of this day since she was a kid when Harry had helped her when she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. She still remembered the day vividly, it was something she thought of every time they all went home to Holmes Chapel for the holidays or summertime, and they drove passed the playground. She still had the scar their on her right knee, even now. And she remembers Harry putting the bandaid on for her and kissing her knee to ‘take the pain away’. Every time she felt the little bump or saw the lighter patch of skin on her knee she thought of him kissing it. She’d stopped crying after he’d done that and from that day on, her heart belonged to him. 

She thought if they ever did somehow end up together on a date, that’d he would take her for a drive or they’d go to the cinema. Something normal. Maybe even a romantic stroll somewhere or something wild like skinny dipping. But instead here he was in her room making himself at home in her little bed where she’d spent hours thinking of him; before her eyes finally allowed her to sleep.

He laughed at her shy expression, patting a spot on the bed beside him for her to sit. “Wasn’t I obvious about that?”

She sat down beside him, laughing at herself she didn’t know much when it came to dating, she’d only had two or so boyfriends. She’d tried the one-night stand thing once but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t know dating etiquette. So she was all stiff beside him now feeling even more nervous than before he’d arrived. This whole thing with Harry frankly didn’t feel real, she’d liked him for so many years and only now was he starting to show similar feelings toward her, it honestly tripped her out a lot. It would be like your celebrity crush showing up at your door with flowers, a bit of a dream, right?

“Not to me.” She said looking at him. He smelt deliciously good beside her, and she wanted to devour him.

He looked over at her with the same eyes he’d given her in the kitchen when she’d comforted him, all soft and molten like an ice cream on a hot day. As he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned into his touch, his hand was so warm and smooth against her face. He was so gentle with her and she felt her mind flashback to last night for what felt like the millionth time when his hands were all over her body. Though they’d been a bit wild, he was always gentle with her unless she asked him otherwise.

“Well I’m sorry, but this is a date, is that alright with you?” He asked, nibbling his bottom lip to contain a smile. She was just so cute, sitting there in front of him like a doe-eyed little thing. You’d have thought that she barely knew him with how she was acting.

She nodded. “Fine by me.” 

“Good to hear, Baby.” He sighed at her because she still seemed very nervous. He didn’t know how to comfort her other than touch. “Why are you so far away? You know I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”

She looked over at him, “I’m just nervous, I guess. If my fourteen-year-old self could see me now…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

This made his heart swell. “You're nervous around me? Even after everything we did last night?”

She shrugged like that was an obvious conclusion. “Well, yeah…of course.”

This made him throw his head back laughing, like a little kid. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous too. S’okay to be nervous. But don’t worry it’s just me. Nothing special.”

That made her feel better, she looked up at him, a smile cracking on her face. “You're nervous too?”

He nodded. “Of course I am. I’m on a date with a gorgeous girl, I’d be a fool not to be.”

Y/n pecked his cheek in response, her lips smearing against the tiny stubble on his cheek, as she quickly moved away and opened the bag excitedly to see the things he’d brought. He brought snacks as requested all their favourites (peanut M&Ms, popcorn, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s) along with a few DVDs. The one he had been raving about was in there and she grabbed it putting it on the very small telly she had by the end of her bed.

Harry explained a story about how he went to three different grocery shops to find the peanut M&Ms because apparently, the world was in a shortage today. This made Y/n want to kiss him because he’d gone to all that effort knowing Y/n’s favourite movie snack was M&Ms. Whenever they went to the cinema she always got them, and the three of them would go a fair amount. They loved going late at night and talking loudly in empty cinemas about how cheesy the films were. 

She looked at him from the edge of the bed. He’d kicked his sneakers off into the corner and he was resting on her bed, head lying on her pillow, a knitted blanket over his lap. He looked very comfy and at ease, and honestly, he was. The smell of her bed was comforting and the soft tone of her voice was soothing. Y/n had a way of driving him crazy, usually when her attention wasn’t on him, but a way of calming him instantly when their eyes met.

“You hungry? I want pizza.” She asked brows pinched in thought.

He nodded grabbing his phone to call them. “Sure. Joeys?”

“I think I want a ha—”

“Hawaiin with no pineapple, I know, you freak. Who doesn’t like pineapple?”

“Me.” She said. She’d never really noticed how observant Harry was until now. He knew her pizza order, he knew she liked peanut M&Ms, he knew her chamomile tea brand, and he knew she liked popcorn extra buttery. Which happens when you have history like they do, but she never thought he cared that much. So what if she knew he liked pepperoni with extra spice? She was obsessed with him for most of her adolescence, that made sense. But why did Harry know that? She was the obsessed one.

“Hey mate, yeah can I get a large Hawaiin no pineapple please, and large pepperoni extra spicy, and a loaf of garlic bread too thanks.” He said into the phone. 

Y/n told Harry her address in a hushed tone and he parroted it to the pizza guy on the phone. The pizza would arrive in 20 minutes from now, so Y/n joined his side happily and hit play on the telly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she could rest against his side, and it all felt very domestic. Her cheek was resting against him and she felt her eyes drooping even though she’d already napped today.

Y/n normally cuddled with Emma and watched movies on her shoulder while Harry brooded on the leather recliner and complained when the girls picked a rom-com of some kind. But she saw him cry during The Notebook last month. He always said Spiderman was his favourite movie but she knew it was actually The Notebook.

She felt guilty at the thought of her best friend, and a pang in her tummy. Normally if a guy had even made eye contact with her Y/n was blowing up her phone with every detail, that’s what best friends are for. But she couldn’t tell her about Harry. They’d stop being friends. Emma and Y/n had many friends who had come and gone because of Harry, she didn’t blame any of them for shagging him. He’s always been attractive and shaggable, but she knew better than to get with him then and she didn’t know what had done it but lately, he’d just been irresistible last night and right now. 

Maybe back then she just had more self-control. Y/n remembers a girl named Cami the most. She and Harry hooked up once drunkenly at a party Gemma had thrown while Anne and Robin were away and the next morning Emma and Y/n walked in on her giving him a blowie. Cami was then banned from any other sleepover. Which was a shame because Cami was super nice, it made Y/n wonder if those years of friendship protected her from Emma’s harsh banishment or if that didn’t count. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked her playing with the strands of loose hair resting against his arm.

She looked up at him away from the telly she’d zoned out on. “I- Em.” She said.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I knew it would be something you’d be thinking about.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I just- she’s gonna hate me, H. I want you, but you know I can’t.”

Harry knew Emma was Y/n’s number one person and they were basically like sisters, Y/n was a part of his family, though he’d never seen her in a particularly brotherly way. She came on holidays overseas with them, she was invited to family dinners, and they’d even had a Christmas Eve together a few times in the past couple of years. And that wasn’t something he would ever try and get in the way of, Y/n being there was what made him want to attend. Because he loved that Y/n was a part of his life in that way and he’d grown up with her, he loved having her around. He cherished those moments and even though he didn’t act like it, he would miss her when she wasn’t there. Last Christmas Eve she was with her Grandparents and he’d hated playing Scrabble without her.

She had no idea of any of his true feelings. Which was his own fault, he knew that, he was purposefully rude to Y/n to keep her at arm's length, and acting like she didn’t exist to try and suffocate his feelings from her. Emma was behind that, ever since he could remember he wasn’t allowed to share Y/n. Emma was always reminding him when his eyes lingered on her longer than they should, that Y/n was Emma’s best friend, off limits. And despite how he felt about her he’d listened to keep Y/n out of the drama of Emma’s wrath. 

But Harry cared for Y/n very deeply and he wished Emma wasn’t so weird about it. Why couldn’t they both just share her? And anyway, it was Y/n’s decision, not Emma’s. She wasn't a toy she was a person, who made her own decisions whether or not Emma approved. Normally Emma’s judgement was the only thing Y/n needed to make a decision, but when it came to Harry she had to disagree.

And anyway, she seemed pretty happy to be wrapped up in his arms right now, despite knowing what trouble it would cause if anyone found out. She knew it was wrong to lie, and hide, but she didn't think it was wrong be around Harry. That's what felt right.

“I know she doesn’t like people getting involved with me.” He began, “But that’s only because they always get hurt by me and it becomes a whole thing. But I would never hurt you.”

His reassuring words made her feel better but she looked up at him, with one more worry. “How is this any different than you and Cami, Lacey, or Tiffany—” She was about to continue her long list of girls but he cut her off.

“Because you're the only one for me.”

Y/n was about to ask him what he meant by that but the doorbell rang. “That’s probably pizza.” 

She sat up and left before he could say anything else. 

She was happy to be with him and she enjoyed his company and his cuddles but this whole thing scared her a lot. There were a lot of risks in going down this path with him and she was painfully aware of all the risks, she knew every single one and the reason she hadn’t gotten with him before now was because she knew it was dangerous for her to get involved with such a gorgeous devilish creature. 

Don’t get her wrong she trusted Harry with her life. But that doesn’t mean she trusted him when it came to his relationships. He’d never had a girlfriend, all the girls thought they were his girlfriends but he never saw any of them as more than a shag. Which is fine, but she knew she couldn’t be satisfied with just a shag. Her heart was too soft for that boy to only want his dick.

When Y/n came back with the warm pizzas burning her hands Harry was sleepily cuddling her bear in bed and she felt her heart melt and let her thoughts melt away too. They ate the pizza in bed and all worries were washed away as they distracted themselves with Y/n’s favourite film. When Harry Met Sally. 

Harry remembered the countless times this movie was on at midnight when he came downstairs to see Y/n asleep on his couch using it to tune out Emma’s snores.

Her eyes stung with sleep as she watched tonight, it comforted her, and the smell of Harry and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. She fell asleep quickly into the movie and Harry only noticed when he was getting no replies from her during his complaints about how cheesy and unrealistic this movie was. When he realised she was asleep right there on his chest he stopped talking and moving; wanting to let her sleep there. He grabbed the knitted blanket from the bottom of their legs and brought it to just below her chin. 

Kissing her forehead before focusing back on the movie. He thought Meg Ryan was pretty fit and the gentle breathing of Y/n was calming, it wasn’t long until he fell asleep too holding her very close to him. Not a worry about being caught, or oversleeping, just enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft breaths that hit his neck.

It was a couple weeks later until Harry saw Y/n again and he hated to admit it to himself that he missed her, more than he’d ever missed anyone and it had just been a few days. She wasn't even his girlfriend, and she was already driving him up the wall.

She’d called him that afternoon and it brought out something in Harry he’d never expected to find within himself.

Harry was not a jealous person. He wasn’t possessive at all. Never had been and he never thought he would be. It just wasn’t who he was. He always thought it was because he just never had those feelings within him, he just didn’t care. He thought jealousy was stupid. What good came from it? Jealousy never accomplished anything.

He didn’t care if the people he’d been with had moved on or gotten with someone else, one time a girl he’d had a bit of a fling with for the Summer ended up hooking up with his best friend and he truly didn’t care. Like at all. They expected him to get angry, shout, or stop talking to them at least. But he didn’t he just shrugged and said something about how he understood. He found someone else to spend the night with quickly after their conversation, and when someone brought it up he completely forgot it had even happened, which shows how little he cared.

He just never got jealous, and it was something he felt was beneath him. Since he saw sex as such a casual and easygoing thing to him, he felt like he belonged to everyone and no one all at once and so he saw people as all the same. It was all just a blur of people and feelings. He was lucky, he never got sad after sex or disgusted he just felt a release, left, and that was that. He didn’t like to chat all that much, he was a fuck and leave kind of guy. If the person really needed a cuddle or some aftercare he wouldn’t just leave right away but he knew cuddling usually meant feelings growing, so he tried to avoid that at all costs too. Which to some was just awful to be around, and he could understand that too. Sometimes people wanted a connection that wasn’t just compatible kinks or sexual chemistry. Something deeper, love, burning lust, tenderness. That’s not to say Harry wasn’t a good lover, he was great no matter the person he could click well with them. He made them feel like they were the only two people in the world, but there was still a bit of a shadow to his love-making that made the people know that’s all it was.

Just a fuck, just a kiss, just an orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’d heard or read about people having sex that felt like fireworks or magic or something ridiculous and sappy and he’d thought it was all blown out of proportion. Sex was more primal and animalistic to Harry. It wasn’t something otherworldly. It was like eating, sleeping, or breathing. It was just a natural human experience and urge, and people needed it to survive a healthy life. It wasn’t tied to any emotions, just like eating a sandwich at lunch. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either.

And it certainly wasn’t ethereal, or at least it wasn’t until Y/n.

He hadn’t felt so connected with someone like that ever. In conversation, in sex, in life. She understood him, she accepted him, and despite their differences, it worked. And god, when they had sex it was just so time-stopping. Touching her was like touching heaven.

His jealousy, his attraction, made him realise he liked her. Like actually liked her, and that if this was what liking someone was that meant he never had before. He’d never liked anyone except her. 

He’d never wanted to date someone, take care of them, and be with them without having to do anything. Just be together, you know?

Harry wanted to date Y/n, take care of her, and just be with her. The unfamiliar feelings rolled through his skin like a tidal wave. All these feelings were new to him, and it meant he didn’t know how to act. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know who to confide in.

Because now all of a sudden he was a jealous person? It just didn’t make sense. None of it did. 

When he found out Emma had set Y/n up on a double date with her and Zayn, Harry was not one bit okay with it. He couldn’t have cared less if someone he’d been with fucked his best friend in front of him, but the idea of someone thinking they could talk to Y/n made his skin crawl. Someone getting to touch her like she’d let him, someone getting to kiss her sweet lips, whisper filth in her ear? He hated it. He hated the thought. 

Jealousy burned his skin like wildfire and he didn’t know what to do. He knew Y/n wasn’t his girlfriend, but they’d been on a date now which meant more to him than any other interaction with any girl he’d ever had. It had been a perfect first date that eventually led to her falling asleep in his arms and him playing with her hair as he memorised every freckle on her face. They both woke up the next morning with a giggle and she walked him to his car her hand in his, and to his surprise kissed him against the hood of his car. It was enough to have him dazed and wanting more, her lips smeared against his excitedly with an innocent giggle. When she pulled away she whispered a breathless goodbye and he hadn’t seen her since.

They’d called a few times and chatted until the early hours of the morning about anything and everything, and he’d seen her at his house a few times. But he wasn’t allowed to act how he wished because Emma was always there, he’d always call Y/n when she was home complaining about how he wished things were different. But since neither of them knew what was going on yet they knew it was best to not tell her.

Y/n didn’t want to go on this double date. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Zayn’s friend Peter was a notorious prick on campus. He was just straight-up horrible and so jarring on the senses. They’d met here and there and Niall hated him too which was enough for Y/n to know everything she needed about the bloke.

Y/n was pretty sure no one liked him, not even Zayn. But Y/n agreed for Emma’s sake. She knew Emma really liked Zayn (or so she said) and this was one of ‘the only ways their date would happen’. But that didn’t make her not want to go any less. She called Harry as soon as Emma left her place to get ready. 

He answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Baby.”

She could practically hear his smile. Things were going well for them. She thought the shift from whatever they once were to this would be awkward but it was easy. They were still teasing, and rude, but the words hardly had any edge anymore. Even when she swore at him it felt like a kiss and now when he stared at her Y/n noticed the softness in his eyes. Had that always been there?

“Hey, Styles.”

He sighed softly sitting down on his couch, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Y/n?”

“Some bad news.”

He sucked a breath, “What’s wrong?” His voice melted into her spine, and he sounded worried. He was thinking the worst, and though this was pretty shitty it was nothing like he was thinking. He hoped she was okay.

“You know I like you, right?”

He nodded but forgot she couldn’t see. “Yes, I like you too, what is it?”

“I’m sorry, H, but I didn’t know how to say no without blowing our cover…” She said avoiding saying it. She didn’t know how he would react. He’d been so lovely, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Spit it out, Trouble.” He said.

“Emma begged me to go on a double date so she could be with Zayn.” She said pinching her eyes shut and practically wincing on the other line.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes, I’m sorry,”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy rush into his chest unfamiliarly. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She sounded so guilty over the line, he was just glad she couldn’t see him. He was embarrassingly jealous. He felt winded as his hand moved up to his chest, squeezing where the pain was. Normally he always knew the right things to say, but he struggled to find the words. He was just pissed.

Emma, totally got in the way time and time again. It’s like she was out to sabotage them. He wanted to tell her off, but he knew better. Y/n would be mad if he did that.

“It’s fine, we only went on one date.” He said, but it didn’t come out like he wanted. He wanted to sound aloof and fine. But his voice came out forced.

Y/n sighed, he was right they had only been on one date. But she felt that it had meant more to her than any other dates she’d been on. And she was sure it would mean way more than this stupid date. “I know. But I wanted to tell you that I don’t like Peter. I hate that guy actually, he’s a fuckin’ prick….” 

Harry despised Peter. Even more now. He got to be with Y/n all pretty in public on a date, Harry knew no one would treat her as well as he could. Harry knew what she wanted. What did Peter know?

“...But Emma asked me. And if I’d have said I was seeing someone else, involved in something serious, she would have drilled me like a Russian spy. You know that it’s very surprising for me to be seeing someone, she wouldn’t have let it go.”

Something serious. His heart swelled despite it all.

Harry let out a small laugh, “It’s okay, Y/n, really.”

“I don’t want to go, but it’s only for a few hours. Can I call you after?”

This made him smile, despite how pissed he was she was so cute. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Okay, good, well I have to get ready, Styles, talk soon.” She said.

“Bye, Trouble” He hung up and his hands itched to do something. But he knew he couldn’t do anything he’d just have to wait for her call. The whole thing made him antsy. 

Just as he hung up Emma walked through the front door. She was holding some shopping bags.

“What are you up to?” He asked. They looked like clothes and shoes.

She looked over with a smile. “Me and Y/n have a double date.”

He acted surprised standing up, “Oh yeah? With who?”

“Zayn and Peter.” She said walking to her room and Harry followed, wanting to know more details he’d been too afraid to ask Y/n.

“When?”

“Tonight, at seven,” Emma replied quickly hands looking through her racks of dresses, eyes far from Harry who had sat himself on her bed.

“Where?” He prodded.

She looked over, “What is this? 21 questions? Why do you care?”

“I’m not allowed to be interested in your life? Gosh, forgive me caring, Em.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d grown out of the protective thing?”

“I just worry about you two. Boys are pigs.”

Emma sighed. “You would know.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be fine. It’s just at Andy’s Burgers. It’s super close to Y/n’s place. And your friends with those guys, you know they aren’t serial killers.”

His lips curled in disgust as his jaw clenched and defended himself. “Zayn is fine. Peter is not my friend at all. I hate him. He’s such a stupid twat. I don’t understand why would Y/n go out with him.”

Emma turned around her hands landing on her hips. “Because he’s hot and he’s supposed to have a big dick.”

This made Harry’s jaw clench hard. Peter better not try anything with Y/n, or he’d rip that dick off. “Why would Y/n care about something like that? Doesn’t she like guys with actual brain cells? Doesn't sound like her.”

Emma squinted, her brows pinching. “Like who, mate? It really is none of your business, Harry, we don’t question your awful taste. Anyway, I don’t see why you care? Y/n can get with whoever she wants.”

This made Harry’s stomach curl. No, she couldn’t. She could only be with him. He wanted her all to himself. No one was worthy of her, not even himself, but at least Y/n wanted him. She didn’t want Peter. She’d just told him he was a prick, she couldn’t want him.

Harry didn’t want anyone else, and he’d turned down a plethora of women and men since that night with Y/n in his bed. He’d avoided telling her that, to avoid upsetting her. He sat up, annoyed and beginning to feel his mind go on a loop of bad thoughts of Y/n with other people. Y/n kissing another boy. God, it made him feral with rage.

He shook himself out of the images pooling in his mind. “Whatever, I’m going to Niall’s. If you need me call me. Don’t let them drive you home if they’re drunk or summat.”

She nodded. “Thanks, H.”

He nodded getting up and leaving. “Bye, Em.”

“Catch ya.” She said. 

Harry grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and left. He was gonna blow off some steam with Niall. Anything to get his mind off Y/n sitting pretty beside that dickhead ginger Peter. Thoughts of Y/n drifted to the back of his mind as he played Mario Kart with Niall and talked shit about Niall’s new boyfriend Paddy, Niall met his mates last night and they’d been proper twats to him and Paddy tried to gaslight him later on when they got back to his flat. Niall ended up leaving in a fit of rage. Harry tried his best at giving advice, he wanted to confide in Niall about this whole Y/n thing but he knew it could blow up in his face. Not that he didn't trust Niall to keep it hushed.

Y/n’s thoughts however were on only Harry, she would do anything to be on a date with him right now. They could be sharing a milkshake and talking about music or their days, honestly with Harry she would be happy to watch paint dry, his company made anything infinitely better. He was fun, he was cheeky, and she could be herself.

But no, she wasn’t with Harry, she wasn’t having fun at all. And she could hardly be her normal self one bit. She had to be quiet and polite when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes and spit out what a dickhead this boy sitting in front of her was.

She was sat beside the stupid prick Peter sipping down this actually quite delicious peanut butter & chocolate shake that was new on the menu and munching on some fries to keep her lips and hands busy while he talked her ear off. She loved the food here. She and Emma came here all the time to study and eat their body weight in their fries which have this great chicken and spicy salt flavouring on.

She just wanted the date to be over. He was so dull. The only thing he’d talked about the entire date for the past hour was him. His father’s business, how he could’ve had a career in Hockey if he didn’t injure his knee in his final year of school, and then making jokes about his ‘big’ dick and laughing like the complete and utter Tory he was. Which Y/n knew was a load of crap because one time he’d sent it to Emma during their first year of Uni and it wasn’t horrible but it certainly wasn’t some magical penis like he was saying.

Even just by looking at his face, you could tell he had no idea where the clitoris was. (Harry knew where it was blindfolded and you could just by the cocky look on his gorgeous face).

Y/n honestly thought it would’ve been less painful to slam her head between a door repeatedly. Zayn and Emma were hitting it off from the other side of the booth. They were leaning in closer, giggling, flirting. She was happy for Emma, really she was, but she didn’t see why she or Peter had to come. They added nothing to this date.

She was thankful when dinner arrived, it meant the date was almost over. She dove into her burger eating quickly so she could make an excuse to not talk or look at Peter. She hoped if she finished quickly the date could end quickly too.

“Are you girls going to that party on Saturday?” Asked Zayn taking a sip of his strawberry shake.

Emma looked at Y/n swallowing her mouthful of cheesy fries. “That’s the one at Harry’s Frat. Niall’s idea.”

Y/n nodded, she’d only go if Harry did or Emma really wanted her there. “Oh, dunno. Maybe.”

Emma smiled. “It sounds fun. I love costume parties.”

Y/n sipped on her shake and looked down at her lap her phone had a message from Harry on it. She’d check when no one was looking. She thought it was cute that he was checking on her.

“Hate those guys though. So cocky.”

Y/n looked up and without thinking scoffed, staring him down. “Who Harry and Niall?”

Peter looked over. “Yeah. Think their god’s gift because their football team’s the most supported at the Uni. Bunch of twats.”

“Can’t be any worse than you.” She said, and Emma was surprised eyes widening from across the table, Y/n’s words held a bite. But she knew that despite Y/n’s soft timid nature, she did not put up with people saying rude things about people she cared about. She was generally a calm, soft, and kept to herself kind of person. But if someone said something she didn’t agree with she always spoke up. “At least their only point of conversation isn’t about their less-than-thrilling cocks and daddy’s money.” She rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Babe. It’s a joke. We are all mates here.” Said Peter.

Her brows furrowed as she looked at Emma, why wasn’t she saying anything? If someone had said something about either Y/n or Emma to Harry he probably would have punched them without even thinking. And Niall too, Y/n remembers one time some guy smacked Y/n’s ass at a party and Niall had to be pulled off him by three people.

“Are you dumb? Niall is our best friend and Harry is Em’s brother, you really think we aren’t going to be annoyed if you talk shit about them? Who do you think you are, huh?” She said turning to look at him.

Emma diverted the topic to something else and eventually, when Peter and Zayn were talking about Hockey, she made a signal for Y/n to follow her to the loo. Y/n was still pissed, and very ready to go home, she felt herself stewing in the corner her rage burning up under her skin. She didn’t understand why Emma hadn’t said anything, and that frustrated her more. She really hoped Emma was devising a plan for their escape but when they stepped inside the bathroom Emma stared at herself in the mirror reapplying her lip gloss she said something Y/n very much did not want to hear.

“I know Peter was a dick, but did you really have to have a go at him?”

This made Y/n even more annoyed than before, she’d only come on this fucking date for her and now she was complaining about how she acted when Peter was the one acting like a prick. Y/n didn’t see why she was at fault.

She and Emma never argued, Y/n didn’t like this. Emma was always on her side, even if Y/n had been in the wrong Emma would always be on her side. And anyway, she was protecting Harry and Niall. Not just anyone. She didn’t go out of her way to make the conversation turn into her having a go at him.

“Yes. I did. I only came on this date for you so that you could be with Zayn. Which you could’ve done without me and Peter. He’s awful, and you two could’ve just gone and done something on your own I don’t see why I had to be here.” She said, arms folding and Emma watched her. 

“And you know I don’t like when people are rude about our friends.”

Emma nodded. “I know Babe, sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. You never go out with guys, I didn’t want to make you feel bad if me and Zayn start dating, you know?”

Y/n’s brows pinched, she was acting like that wasn’t Emma’s fault. Every boy she’d ever liked other than Harry, Emma had stolen or taken away. It’s like she wanted Y/n to be all hers. Not that it bothered Y/n much, if she couldn’t have Harry should didn’t want anyone anyway. 

“I don’t care about boys.”

Emma sighed grabbing her hand. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to put yourself out there, Babe.”

“Okay, sure, I see your point. But Peter? Really?”

She laughed. “Yeah, your right, he isn’t really your type. But he was the only available one on a Friday night.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, wonder why.”

Emma tucked a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you one last favour?”

Y/n frowned eyes sharpening. “I’m not shagging him.”

Emma laughed tossing her head back. “No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“Can you get a lift home with Peter instead of me? I invited Zayn over, Harry’s gone to Niall’s for a bit. I need a good shag, and I need it now.”

Y/n sighed, a big groan leaving her lips. “Fine. But please make this date end soon. I don’t want to miss Murder She Wrote which starts at 9.”

Emma laughed. “Okay Grandma, don’t worry you’ll be tucked in bed in 30 minutes I can guarantee it.”

They stepped outside the loos walking back to their table and Y/n sat down on the side with Peter, sitting as close to the edge as possible. While the three were wrapped up in conversation Y/n quickly checked her phone she had a message from Harry still waiting for her reply.

Harry Styles 🍒 

Call me as soon as you're home. Miss your voice.

This made her smile to herself, hearting the message before returning her attention back to the table. The three of them were talking and Y/n felt herself zone out staring out the window. Rain was dripping down against the windows. She was just thinking of Harry, and internally screaming at the fact she wasn’t on a date with him right now. He had become more clingy than she’d expected over the past few weeks, he called her a fair amount and they snuck talks in private when they could but they hadn’t had a chance to go on another date yet. The way he was so kind and clingy to her was honestly shocking, normally he was the best at a fuck and ghost. She assumed he’d do the same, which she knew she’d just pretend to be fine with and then probably lose her shit when she saw him with another girl.

But nothing had been as explosive as she thought it to be, and that was probably because Emma hadn’t the faintest idea. 

By the time everyone finished their meals Zayn and Emma made a dash for it. Leaving their money on the table with the cheque. Zayn paid half and Peter paid the other. Emma kissed her cheek and patted Peter’s shoulder before the two raced away, giggling. Y/n was cranky at the fact Emma had only thought of herself the whole night and sighed leaning back into the seat of the booth. More than ready to leave.

Y/n frowned to herself as Peter seemed totally intent on keeping her there for a bit more of a chat. 

She tried to be polite about needing to head home. Making up some project she needed to do, but Peter’s hand slid onto her knee and she felt disgust crawl up her spine. She felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe we could just pop into the loos then, I bet your into that kinda thing. Can tell."

Y/n’s jaw dropped and she pushed his hand off quickly, she tapped her phone and Harry’s number dialling instantly. He was in her favourites. She needed his help, she knew he would come. She brought the phone to her ear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said lips curling in anger.

Harry picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Baby.” He said, raspy. There was lots of noise, he must’ve been in the car driving home.

Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “C’mon, don’t be such a prude. I paid for your dinner. You owe me at least a blowie.”

Harry, spoke over the line into her ear. “Y/n?”

She snatched her wrist out from his rough palm. 

“Get off me!” She shouted and grabbed the last of Emma’s milkshake from the table and threw it onto him. He flinched at the cold milkshake hitting his skin, his Ralph Loren polo was now caked in thick pink liquid, and his ginger hair was now soaked and dripping down over his eyes as he gasped. 

“Bitch!” He shouted, wiping his hand over his eyes.

“Fuck yourself, you pathetic fucking prick.” She shouted pointing her finger at him. Harry had heard the interaction and his fingers curled against the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from his grip. He put his foot on the pedal. He was already turning the car around in her direction.

“Sorry, can you pick me up please, Harry? Peter’s a creep, I need you.”

“Of course, hang tight I’ll be there soon.”

Peter was shouting at her like the pathetic baby he was and some waitresses came over to help clean up the mess she’d made by throwing at him. 

“Sorry,” She whispered to the cherry-haired girl who came over with a cloth and spray. The girl just laughed as Peter rushed over to the manager who had come out at the sound of the ruckus. 

“It’s okay, he seems like he's a bit of a knob.” She said looking over at Y/n. 

“Are you alright?” The blonde waitress asked from the other side of her.

“Yeah, he’s just a handsy asshole,” Y/n explained.

It took only a few minutes before the doorbell rang above the entryway door and Harry entered the restaurant. He looked dishevelled and his eyes were wild as he stepped inside. His hair was wet from having walked from his car to her, the thunderstorm outside had soaked him. The top of his grey hoodie was speckled in rain, and his eyes were all stormy and this dark green that Y/n melted over. He made his way over to her and she felt herself forget for a second why he was here. 

She was just happy to see him.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, feeling relief flood her tummy. Harry always made her feel safe. He’d always felt like her protector even growing up. She remembered one time at her school dance some boys were trying to get Emma and Y/n in their car, they were drunk as skunks and she remembered Harry racing over and Y/n’s whose eyes were glassy with worry and he actually rubbed her arm. Then he drove them both to the party and made sure they were okay the whole night. He’d made her feel safe then too.

He rubbed her wrist, almost the same as that night at school. His thumb stroked it softly, as his eyes darted from hers to Peter who was still there. Covered in a milky pink drink, and swearing angrily.

Harry made his way over to him and grabbed him by the collar, in a rush of anger. He was bursting with anger and Y/n watched him surprised in her spot by the waitresses. She watched silently, expecting Harry to just tell him off. But he did more than that, Harry’s fist connected with Peter’s face and it made a slap, and he fell back onto the counter of the register with a bang.

His nose was bleeding upon the impact.

“If you ever touch her again I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” The calmness of his tone was actually chilling and Y/n felt herself tense up. Harry pushed him again. She knew if she let him he’d stay and pummel him for the rest of the night.

She walked over quickly and grabbed his arm softly. “C’mon, let’s just go. Can’t beat his awfulness out of him.”

“‘Can try.” He replied but ultimately he listened, pulling her into his side and they both apologised to the staff as they exited the restaurant. Harry’s hand slid into hers and she followed him to his car it was raining bad, big fat droplets hitting their faces as they walked steadily to the car. He opened the door for her and she slid in, he shut it when she was all tucked inside. The rain was coming down heavily and when he plopped in beside her he didn’t start the car, his hair was drenched and his eyelashes were thick with water. His face had turned soft again. He watched her for a beat. “Are you sure you're okay? I can go murder him if you want.”

She was silent for a second before turning to face him, she looked beautiful even with her frown. “Harry’s it’s fine. Can you just take me home?”

He nodded. She looked tired and frustrated, and in turn, this upset him. Y/n was too sweet to be treated like this. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to her when he was around. He’d take care of his girl. The drive to Y/n’s house from the burger place really wasn’t far and she normally would’ve walked home if not for this heavy downpour of rain, and she had wanted Harry to be the one to comfort her. When Harry’s car pulled up outside the front of the house she looked over at him.

He was waiting for her to say she’d call him later and kiss his cheek but she didn’t. She looked up at him and sighed, bringing her hand up to push a loose curl away from his forehead.

“You wanna come up?” She asked.

He smiled. “You sure?”

She smiled bigger. “Yeah, come on.”

He turned the engine of the car off and just as Y/n went to open the door he said, “Wait.” 

She listened, watching as he bolted out of his side of the car to go to her side and open the door for her. She giggled at the gesture. Harry really wasn’t what people thought. 

He held his hand out for her to grab and she grabbed it as he helped her step down. The rain was heavy but neither of them seemed to care all that much considering they were both already soaking, and walked slowly up to her door. His hand was warm in hers and she shivered into his side. The rain had brought a chill to the air that nipped at her skin.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside pulling him in with her. The house was nice and warm, they’d been lucky enough to have an old fireplace still built in. It warmed the front rooms and meant their heating bill was much less since they only had to take care of a few small rooms. Harry followed her down the hall. 

This was the second time he’d been here, so now he knew where her room was he followed less nervously. The house was practically empty tonight beside from a few people in the living room and kitchen. Everyone must’ve been at one of the frat parties. She opened her bedroom door and they kicked off their shoes and socks that had gotten all soggy. 

Y/n shrugged her small pink coat off and put it over her desk chair. Harry stayed sort of stagnant behind her. Running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are y'cold, H?” She asked gripping the hem of her top, her back was facing him as she lifted it off. Revealing her lacy pink bra and bare back.

He felt his eyes widen and cheeks heat up. She yanked her jeans down and revealed a pink g-string that matched. It had bows on it, and it was all girly and pretty. Suddenly the wholesome urge to take care of her turned back into something a bit less wholesome. His cock twitched as she bent down to take her socks off. He had a great view of her plush perfect body. His hands flexed by his sides, and he looked down at his feet, did she want him to look?

She turned around running a hand through her hair, “Styles? You okay?”

She looked like a fucking dream.

He nodded looking up. “I- Yeah,”

She giggled. “What’s wrong?”

He rolled his eyes sighing, a smile remaining on his face. His cheeks had dusted in a soft pink that was unusual for him and only made Y/n more inclined to tease him. Roles reversed.

“Don’t play all dumb, you know you're fucking gorgeous. And I can’t exactly concentrate when you look at me like that.”

She walked closer to him as her hands slid under his hoodie and thick cotton t-shirt, hands grazing his skin. Her hands were cold, and he hissed slightly but made no movements to step back.  

“Like what?” Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. 

“Like that.” His hands slid around her back and down to cupping her ass in his big hands and bringing her closer to him. Their height difference had him bending down, ready to scoop her up into his arms.

She moved her hands onto his shoulders and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, lips close to his. “Kiss me.”

He leaned down connecting their lips together. She pulled him closer, whispering against his lips. “‘M cold.” 

He leaned into her touch, she was gripping him tightly against herself. He pulled his arms away from her to lift his jumper off. She gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled that off too. His tattoos filled her vision and she wanted to bite and suck and lick and touch every single one of them. God, he was just gorgeous. And honestly, being able to kiss him was more pleasurable than any other experience she’d ever had. Kissing him alone was something she could do for hours. When Harry just looked at her that alone was more breathtaking than anything any other boy had done. To have him here in her room, kissing her, holding her, well it was everything she’d ever dreamed of. If her fourteen-year-old self knew she’d probably faint, scream, cry, and go into shock.

Her hands slid to his hips and gripped the button of his jeans, as his hands found her cheeks and kissed her again. She yanked them down a little bit revealing the fern tattoos she loved so much. She remembers him posting on his Instagram when he’d gotten them, Y/n practically choked on her water when she saw them. He was just walking sex. She wasn't any better than him, completely filthy in that head of hers.

He started walking forward and leading her back to her bed. She sat down on the mattress eyes wild looking up at him. His bulge was right in her eye-line and she smiled up at him, and she grabbed him to join her. He slotted in perfectly into her arms and his hips pressed into the thin string that was covering herself. He wasn’t ashamed that his cock was already growing in size in his pants, and he gently pressed it against her in hopes of some relief to his aching balls.

She sighed breathily into his mouth at the weight of him on top of her, she kept pulling him even closer. Their chests pressed into each other, and Harry was so warm, and Y/n was so soft. He could’ve stayed like that all night, in her arms.

He pecked her lips one last time as he pulled away to kiss along her chest. The little necklace she always wore that Emma had bought her was around her neck. It was the first letter of her name. His finger ran along it, stroking her upper chest.

“Should get a H.” He said before nibbling into the plush flesh of her tits. They were so warm and soft against his face. If he wasn’t so needy for her he’d just rest against them and sleep, smelling her delicious scent of that clean soft scent she always smelt of, it was so comforting to him.

She smiled and softly ran her hands through his hair, her legs were still wrapped around his back. “Why?”

He looked up, and suddenly all those emotions of jealousy and protectiveness were back rushing through him and making his hands squeeze her hips tightly. “So people know you're mine.”

This shocked her a bit and Harry was nervous for a second, he had revealed quite a bit of feelings in that moment and distracted himself with her neck. Kissing along her sweet-smelling skin. His lips were so gentle against her like he was afraid she’d break.

“And then what would you wear to show who you belong to Styles?” She said. Her voice was raspy and breathy from his kisses. His head snapped up and he smirked wickedly. 

“Well, why don’t you mark m’back with your nails like last time, and leave some bruises on m’neck until we can come up with a permanent solution?”

She smiled and felt her pussy throb at the thought. After the last time Harry was between her legs she’d ended up with bruises on her thighs, hickeys everywhere, and she was so sore it hurt to sit all day. She’d told him one night on the phone and he’d lost his mind over it. Loved the idea of Y/n being marked up from him, sore from their sex, unable to sit without thinking of him.

"Sound good, Princess?"

“Okay.” She replied content with his answer. Her lips formed in a pouty kissy face and he came up to press his into hers for a long peck, she smiled when he pulled away. How could he be so cocky and rude but also so soft all at once? He moved his way back down her body and kissed her hips sucking a spot into her left hip. His hand rubbed her stretch marks along there and kissed over the now bruised mark he’d made.

He moved further down until his mouth was right against her pussy. His nose brushed against the material as he looked up at her. “Gonna let me take care of you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled. “You’re such a good girl f’me. Perfect lil' thing.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He loved when she slipped into that state of submission and obedience because normally, despite her calm presence, she basically never let Harry have anything without being teased. She was a bit of a brat to him, which turned him on an unfathomable about.

He pulled her knickers off and threw them to the side. As he spread her legs even further apart he moved one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder and the other he pushed forward toward her tummy, practically folding her in half. His ring-covered fingers gripped them and he leaned in close to her. The lips of her were like petals of a flower, splayed out and dewy. Her clit was puffy and swollen in arousal like the bud of a flower. He brought his free hand forward and circled her clit softly. Her hips squirmed into his hand and he heard her let out a shaky breath. 

“Ah,” She gasped when he leaned in closer and his breath hit her dripping pussy. It was cool and shiver-inducing and she could practically see his smile, even though her eyes had made their way shut.

He placed a gentle kiss on her clit and her hands moved to his hair quickly. “Please.”

He was teasing her and he loved the reaction it pulled from her. Now that they’d already been together once there was a certain familiarity in this. He knew what she liked and he was ready to explore things that he hadn’t already. Including taking his time and eating her out like he’d been thinking about since he was probably fourteen.

He looked up at her, her lips were in a pout of frustration. “What’s got you pouting, Princess?”

“Want you t’help me, Harry.”

“You can beg better than that, Y/n.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please taste me, Daddy. Need your mouth. Want it.”

He smirked looking up at her. “‘Atta girl.”

She felt her clit throb at his raspy words. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe of her slick up into his mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet just like he’d imagined. His mouth watered at the taste, and he smirked. Once he’d tasted her he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease her any longer. He started moaning and grunting into her and the vibrations of it had her mewling and tugging on his hair.

“Fuck.” She cried out, neck arching into the pillow.

He was acting like a starved man and sucking onto her clit with such a hunger that it startled her. She hadn’t expected him to be so wild and good at it. She knew he was good, but Jesus, she was already feeling so much pleasure within mere minutes. He was suckling into her bud like a bee on a honeysuckle flower, all headily. The sweet nectar spilled onto his tongue as he kissed her lips, and practically devoured her whole. She was already feeling dreamy with the pleasure, floating with lust.

As he began to speed his tongue up and get more sloppy with his languid movements, she gained less control of her body. Her legs tried to shut on him and they were beginning to shake softly, he gripped them tighter and split her open for him.

His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of her hungrily, and as he slipped his tongue near her weeping hole she let out a particularly loud whine and her back arched off the mattress. “Fuckin’ hell, feels good, Daddy.”

He pulled away for a breath looking up at her, rubbing his thumb over her clit in slow hard circles that had her eyes welling with tears of pleasure. “Yeah, sucha’ good girl letting Daddy eat this little pussy.”

She was bucking her hips and squirming under his tight grip. He could tell she was getting close as she ground against his face, her moans were getting louder and more desperate. Her slick was dribbling down his chin and he was moaning every few licks. He’d taken to rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress for some relief, and Y/n coming on done from his touch was too much for him to stay still. He needed to relieve himself. Or he’d come his boxers, which he thought we be a bit pathetic. He wanted to prove to her how good he could be with her, how he liked to take his time when he could. But his neediness was making him have a little less control than he liked.

He continued eating her pussy with such a raw animalistic frenzy that her orgasm washed over quickly, taking her by complete surprise. Her tummy filled with waves of pleasure that shot all through her body as her muscles tensed and her pussy throbbed, she could feel herself clamping down onto his tongue as he groaned.

When she came it was with a desperate, soft, cry of his name. “Fuck, Harry.” She said, shutting her eyes and gripping his hair. “‘M cumming.”

“Cum for me, angel.”

She did. Hard. She felt like she had no control of her body as Harry talked her through her orgasm encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’d slipped his fingers inside with ease and began curling against her. She felt herself fall back limp into the sheets as he continued licking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, and her hands moved to his hair once again pulling on it. Her mouth was loose-lipped and she found it hard to keep herself quiet now.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” She said breathlessly, all soft and quiet. It made him smile as he looked up at her, slick coating his lips. 

“Gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum again?”

She nodded biting her lip. “Mhm.” She said before throwing her head back when his fingers hit that soft spot inside her that she couldn’t reach with her own fingers. It made her melt and shake.

Harry noticed her reaction and smirked to himself. “Found it.”

As she watched him from between her thighs, his head bobbed and the muscle of his arms flexed, he was pinning her to the bed so that he could keep going. Her second orgasm found itself much easier, it took Harry a few kisses and rubs against her clit along with his fingers pounding into her until she came. 

Her legs moved to shut around his head and her nails were scratching along his shoulders and back. She kept repeating the words, “Please, Daddy.” Over and over, until.

“Oh, I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”

He kept his steady pace and sloppy kisses going, pulling away only to say. “Cum for Daddy, pretty girl,”

And she did. It was like his words had complete control over her. The ball growing in her tummy snapped and rushed through her. This time her whole body shook as she gripped onto his arms in support, she felt this release like a tidal wave.“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

The tightness of her muscles flexing and her body shaking had her spent. She had never come so hard, and it for so long. It was a few minutes before she finally felt the pleasure subside to something more easy to take. 

She was mewling and babbling all drunken from her orgasm. “Jesus, H.”

He helped her through her second orgasm, kissing along her hips and thighs to give her swollen clit a chance to rest. When she finally came down from the peak of her orgasm, she went limp again, eyes shut, and for a moment there she couldn’t hear or see anything. She could only feel him. Feel what he’d made come over her.

When she looked down at him he’d pulled his fingers out only a few centimetres away and his mouth was damp. His chin was covered in slick and as she began to take in his appearance. His neck and the top of his chest was dripping. She was confused for a second, it couldn’t be sweat. Despite their intense state, she knew he couldn’t be sweating that much. And then she realised. 

“Oh, I squirted, sorry.” She said embarrassed trying to shut her legs. He looked at her like she was crazy moving back up so that his hips were between her thighs.

“Sorry? What are you on about? You squirted f’me, and you looked beautiful doing it too. Absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled, still feeling shy and blushy. She’d squirted on his dick before, but certainly not his face. She hadn’t expected it to feel so good. “Thank you for making me cum.”

He smiled, and despite his rotten mouth and dominant cocky rough edges, in that moment he looked all soft and gooey and truthfully the fact he got to see Y/n so soft and vulnerable around him made him eternally soft for her. He wanted to see her like this all the time. Red-faced, pouty lips, eyes glassy in pleasure, and words slurring from complete satisfaction. Something only he got to see.

He wanted to be the only person who got her to squirt all over his face. Wanted to be the only one to taste her sweet little pussy. He wanted to be the only man for her. He felt so possessive over her like a kid not wanting to share his favourite toy. But he knew at the end of the day, it was always going to be her decision who she was with. 

But Y/n thought that over the years it was pretty damn obvious who she wanted. 

Harry was the only one for her. 

She wasn’t in some other boy's bed tonight, she was with him right now, running her nails softly along his arms despite how needy they both were for each other. She was slow with her touches like they had all the time in the world because really they did.

It was raining so heavily outside, the wind was howling wildly rustling all the trees nearby, and the thunder roared above them. The shelter her little room provided them with was perfect, and it felt like all time ceased to exist. The sky had turned dark and so had their eyes, her room was almost pitch black, and they were both so warm and close. Skin to skin.

Y/n was right here, naked, and waiting for him. 

Things weren’t so bad after all.

He placed a soft long kiss on her lips and she could taste herself on his tongue. Things tonight felt different than the first time, although Harry was fueled and fiery with jealousy and he wanted to take her roughly, it all felt more intimate.

His hands moved to her hips squeezing the plush flesh and running his hands over the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Every inch of Y/n was beautiful, and he’d never thought that before about anyone. He’d never seen someone's hands and thought what absolutely beautiful hands they had, or what beautiful teeth they had, or how cute their ears were. There wasn’t a part of her body that he wouldn’t worship. 

To him, she was the picture image of beauty.

The kiss deepened as he rolled them over. His head rested where hers just had, and he could feel the warmth her body had left behind. She sat right up against his cock, and she could feel him throbbing against her. His old thin boxers left little room for him to hide his aching want. He was honestly rock hard, watching her cum twice, feeling her, tasting her. It had him so hard he could’ve cried.

Her tits were right in his eyeline, all soft and full. He took one into his mouth sucking on her sensitive nipple, and enjoying the loud whine she let out. His hands had fallen to her ass now, and she’d taken to grinding against his clothed cock. He could feel the wetness of her leaking down onto his boxers and he wanted to stuff her full. Despite her two orgasms, Y/n was still managing just fine on top of him.

She pulled back just slightly so she could grip the hem of his boxers and tug them off. His cock sprang up against his tummy, and even though she’d seen it before she’d probably never get used to how fucking big and gorgeous his cock was. The pink ruddy tip that glistened in precum, his long veiny shaft, that girthiness he had. God she could stare at it for hours, she thinks he is beautiful in the way those ancient paintings of Greek gods were beautiful. His hair was unruly and curly and fit for a golden wreathe to sit, his body all muscular and tanned, his absolute manliness. Something about how capable he was was just enough to have her squirming her thighs.

If she was to paint him, she’d want him to look something like this. Messy, needy, and staring right at her. She moved her hand to grip his cock giving it some gentle strokes, he was hissing already. Her hands were so warm and soft, and she pursed her lips and spat down onto him, allowing her to stroke him faster.

“Such a pretty cock, Daddy.”

He let out a laugh through his moan, “Pretty?”

She nodded. “Just like the rest of you. Beautiful.”

He felt his cheeks warm in a blush. No one had ever called him that before. She was still stroking him and he felt his eyes begin to squeeze shut in pleasure. His hips rutted up into her hand a few times.

“Want to feel this pretty cock, Daddy, please,” She said, her voice in a gentle begging tone.

He opened his eyes and smiled his hand moving from her hip to her cheek stroking it with his thumb. 

“Come sit on it, all yours to sit on, Princess.”

She smiled up at him, kissing his jaw and letting go of his stiffy so that she could move her legs up the bed. When she was hovering over him she placed her arms by his shoulders ready to slide onto him when he stopped her. 

“Wait, condom?” He asked, kissing her nose. 

She shook her head. “Wanna feel you, s’that okay?”

He felt his cock twitch at that. “Yeah, I’m clean, trust you. Want that too.”

She smiled leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Her hand grabbed his dick and brought it up between her slick folds, collecting the wetness. She slowly slid down onto it and felt herself stretching for him, her two orgasms allowed more room for him to glide into her easily, but no matter how wet she was his cock was always going to stretch her out.

When she’d made it halfway she looked up at him, “Y'big, sorry,”

He just pushed some hair away from her face, kissing her jaw near her ear. “Take your time.”

Eventually, she made it hilt of him, sitting down on him softly. They both let out heavy sighs at the feeling, she felt so full of him. He was so deep, she could see the bulge of him in her tummy. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and his hands massaged her thighs softly. If not for their burning desire Harry could’ve stayed just like that for hours. His back against the wall, her resting against him, cock all warm inside her. It was perfect.

She eventually lifted her head up and smeared their lips together in a messy gentle kiss. Her arms wrapped around his back in an embrace as she began to lift herself up and then back down slowly. The stretch starting to burn in pleasure now, and the pain subsiding. He moaned into her mouth loudly as she started to pick up a rhythm of deep hard thrusts. The tip of him was hitting that spot that had her eyes rolling back into her skull as she started to find the rhythm that was right for them both. She was going slow yet hard and deep, it had her pussy clamping down against him which was sending him up the wall.

Her pussy was to die for, so tight, and perfect around his cock. Wet and warm. He wanted to bury himself in it all hours of the day. Her lazy bounces started to pick up as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. His hands moved from her hips to her ass, gripping her tightly as he began to pump his cock up meeting her bounces. He was moaning and grunting into her neck and tits at the feel of her tight pussy, he started kissing her all over.

It was a beautiful sight, his pretty girl's tits bouncing right in front of his face, and her moaning against his cock. He couldn't help but smile, a devilish one.

“Daddy, fuck,” She swore. She was getting close again. Her previous orgasms had her so sensitive to his touch.

One of his hands came forward and began to rub messy circles against her puffy clit. She let out a whine and shut her eyes bouncing as if her life depended on it, his other hand squeezed her ass kneading it roughly, as he thrust his cock up into her pussy.

“You’re Daddy’s good girl aren’t you?”

This made her let out a particularly loud whimper.

“What was that, Princess?”

She just let out another noise of pleasure.

His hand moved up to grip her chin so she’d look at him. “Say it, Y/n. Tell me.”

“I’m your good girl, H.”

He frowned. “H?”

Her hips were stuttering on his cock and the hard rubbing against her clit. “I’m your good girl, Daddy.”

He smirked. “Who’s little pussy does this belong to?”

God, he was filthy. She fucking loved it. It’s what she’d imagined him to be liked. Raw, rough, filthy, dominant, and possessive.

She cried out as his thrusts began to speed up. She was dizzy with it all, struggling to speak.

Her voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yours,”

“What’s mine, Y/n?”

“My pussy, it’s yours. I'm yours.”

He smirked. “Good girl, sucha' good fucking girl.”

His thrusts caused her entire body to jolt forward, as her nails scratched down his arms and she began to scream at the pleasure. 

“That’s it, take Daddy’s cock,”

She gripped his arms for dear life, “Gunna’ come again. Ah, mm, fuck.”

He didn’t stop for a second and it was only a few thrusts until she was squirted all over his cock and shaking wildly. He could tell he’d fucked her hard because she was practically limp on top of him when her orgasm subsided, she was spent. Harry had ruined her. Three orgasms, three mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know if she could handle another.

He kissed her lips. “Good job, sweet girl.”

She smiled dazedly. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Want me ta’ take care of ya’ now.” His voice hadn't gotten even slower, slurring from the absolute raw fuck he was having.

She nodded and he helped her off him. She fell back onto her bed, back amongst the mess that was her sheets. Her hair lay above her like a crown and he kissed her lips softly, enjoying this gentle side to her. It seems the more she came the softer she got, more clingy, handsy. He fucking loved it. He was sure his shoulders were covered in scratches from her, and his hair had been tugged about by her. He probably looked just as fucked out as her.

She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and her lips were swollen. She looked up at him fluttering her lashes. Sexiest little thing ever, a total minx. “Want you.” She whispered. She wanted him to cum, fill her up. She'd been thinking about for years, especially lately.

He grabbed her legs spreading them far apart so he could slot in between her. He was sitting up on his knees all tall above her. Her tummy curled in anticipation and desire, he was so fucking hot. His gorgeous veiny hands touched her and those ring-covered fingers of his gripping into her flesh hard. His swirls of ink were still visible under the moonlight. 

He was a sight. A pure filthy sight she wanted to hold onto in her mind forever.

“Want to fill you up, Princess.” He replied. His cock was begging for his orgasm, he’d managed to last through one of her orgasms pulsing against him, but he knew the next one would push him over the edge. He slowly slipped inside of her, and her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them hard.

He started thrusting roughly without much warning, causing her bed to shift and creak under the weight of them both. She moaned loudly, “Oh, fuck,”

With each thrust her body jolted into the bed, as she tried to find a way to control her squirming body.

He let out a hiss as his balls slapped against her ass. “Feel so good around me, sweet girl. Fuckin' perfect. Made for this cock.”

She pulled him closer so that her chest was pressed into his. His face slipped into the side of her neck and shoulder and gently kissed along there. One of her arms wrapped around his back and the other found his hand, he held hers tightly. He continued fucking into her deep, it felt so good it hurt and her hips jutted to meet his.

“‘Wanna cum, Daddy, can I?” She said softly, in a pleading tone that had his balls aching to fill her pussy up with his hot cum. He grunted pounding into her just that bit harder, this final bundle of energy he had was going toward making her finish.

She felt her tummy tightening familiarly with her orgasm. She knew that she couldn’t hold onto it much longer.

“Cum f’me please, Y/n.” He whimpered, “Be a good girl and let me feel you cum on m’cock.”

His hand held hers tightly, and this romantic intimate side of him was all too much for her, this was somehow hotter than his rough side. She loved to see him like this.

She pulled his face to hers, and they kissed as she finished. It was all teeth and tongue, noses brushing into each other, and she cried out into his mouth. He nibbled her lip and felt her clamping against him rapidly.

When he pulled back from the kiss they were breathless, each thrust had her practically crying out.

“Gonna make me cum, Y/n,” He whispered. “Where do you want me cum?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips. “Inside me, please, Daddy.”

When he made eye contact with her that’s when he finally orgasmed. The thrusts of his hips grew sloppy with pleasure as he let out a loud moan of her name and some curses. She was scratching his arm and back softly letting him fuck her full of his cum as his pleasure subsided. He didn’t move out of her, just landed on top of her. His head resting right above her fast-beating heart. He was fucking spent.

She stroked his hair feeling nice and full of him. She could feel his cum inside her, dripping out onto his cock. He was warm and big to cuddle she loved it. He lifted his head up when he caught his breath, placing a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks which made her giggle, then finally her lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up Styles, I already let you fuck me, no need to butter me up now.” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, still inside her, still holding her hand. “You’ve always been beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.”

Her face turned soft, cheeks blooming in a soft dusty rose. “You’re beautiful too.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Eventually, he pulled out of her, she felt empty and whined at the feeling. She was so sensitive now. She honestly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed inside her for the rest of the night.

She shut her eyes and as he sat back, he watched his cum drip out of her. It made his tummy flutter. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking this far ahead considering Y/n and him weren’t even dating. But if she got pregnant with his baby, that would be the cutest thing in the world. He cut those thoughts from his mind and stood up. 

“Gonna clean y’up.” He said, walking to her bathroom. He found a cloth in there and wet it with some warm water walking over to the bed. 

She opened her eyes which had turned bleary with sleepiness. She smiled tiredly over at him. He smiled back, grabbing her legs and spreading them so he could wipe her down. She whined at the touch of the cloth.

“Sorry, Baby.”

She let out another soft wince. “S’okay, worth it.”

As he stared down at her he noticed how sweaty she looked. “Wanna shower? I’ll help you. We probably should after all that rain and other stuff.”

She nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. “Okay, just don’t let me fall asleep and drown in there.”

He laughed. “Course not.”

He helped her up to a sitting position and she looked up at him sluggishly. “Really got me sore, H.”

He frowned. “Sorry, Angel.”

She teasingly sharpened her gaze, “You aren’t sorry, you filthy boy.”

He smirked. “‘M not sorry for taking what’s mine, I am sorry you’ll be sore tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “You will be sorry when I keep complaining.”

"I'll massage you, don't worry."

He picked her up startling her, she always knew he was strong but never expected him to pick her up with such ease, and if she wasn’t totally spent she’d want to test what also he could do with those big muscles. Throw her around maybe? Fuck her standing up? She’d make a note to herself to try that later.

His hands were under bum and as he walked to the bathroom, the shower was surprisingly big and had a tiny little shelve that came out which had all her soaps and shampoos, but there was enough room for her to sit on it.

He turned the water on warm and placed her onto the sink bench. She watched him under the pale light of the bathroom. How was this the same Harry from before?

This was a soft kind man, a gentleman, hardly a frat boy dick. She didn't know where'd he been hiding this side of him. But she liked him just as much as he did the rotten-mouthed boy she knew.

In the shower he took care of her as promised, washing her hair with the lavender-scented shampoo she owned. He used some too, and he helped wash her skin with this fresh-smelling shower oil she had. Softly cleaning her sore parts and he massaged her body with such a gentleness that she melted right into his hands.

She’d never expected Harry to be one to stay and cuddle after, let alone help shower. He was so nurturing to her. It made her feelings bloom and spread through her body like wildflowers.

When they were both clean Harry even helped her dry her hair, and change into some comfy clothes. While she was brushing her teeth and putting some skincare on he fixed up her sheets and tucked himself into them. He'd put his rings in the little dish she had on her bedside table. Checking his phone to see it was late. They'd been going for a while.

When she came out in a baggy shirt that Harry had worn last time he was here, it still smelt of him, and some little black knickers he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked especially good in his clothes.

“C’mere.” He opened the duvet and she slid in beside him tiredly. He pulled her close, right in the crook of his chest, he’d decided to wear nothing to bed. Which bothered neither of them. He ran hot, especially with Y/n snuggling right up against him.

Her window was open letting the heavy downpour of thunder and rain become background noise as they fell asleep. He kissed her temple, rubbing her back underneath his shirt.

“Night, Beautiful.”

She shut her eyes kissing one of the swallows on his chest. “Night, Styles.”

Sleep found them both quickly and Harry held onto her the whole night. He was completely smitten with her, the one girl he couldn’t have was the only one he wanted. Fuck. They were so screwed.

PART THREE???????

[sunflowerry-vol6]

IF YOU WERE MINE || CEO Harry x Reader

characters count: 7682

summary: your husband opens your marriage, while his best friend Harry is determined to steal you

“So I decided to open our marriage.” I almost choke on my champagne as your husband shamelessly brags about it with a smirk to all our investors. Tom and I practically grew up together. We both came from wealthy families, and our parents have been friends forever, so it was already decided for us before we were born — like the rest of our lives. We went to the same kindergarten, the same school, the same university, and took over our fathers’ companies.

But we’ve changed — and Tom, not for the better. He’s one of those people you stay friends with because you have a long history, not because you want to. If I met him now, there’s no way I’d become friends with someone like that. Honestly, I would’ve cut him off if it weren’t for you. I don’t know how it happened; I don’t know what he did to deserve an angel like you.

I can’t even count how many times I’ve wondered and imagined myself in his place. I would take proper care of you. I would show you what you deserve. Hell, I would worship you. You’re incredibly beautiful, caring, kind, witty, and smart — God, you’re smart. I remember how many times you literally saved his company from bankruptcy, yet he never offered you a position or invested in your own business. But I did.

That caused us to spend more time together, but still, you never told me about this. You don’t like it, do you? Who would like having their husband rail other women and then brag about it to people from his work? God, he’s embarrassing you.

“Is it a one-way thing?” My voice cuts through all the filthy comments of these middle-aged balding men.

“No, of course not. She’s welcome to do it as well. But you know how she is — always loyal.” That sly smirk on Tom’s face makes my hand curl into a fist. Oh, y/n, sometimes I wish you were more vicious.

I nod as my eyes dart around, looking for you. There you are, politely smiling and shaking the hand of some rich guy — another deal in your pocket. You look so radiant in that dress, and I shamelessly make my way to you.

“Can I steal you for a second?” I whisper in your ear as I lean in from behind.

“I’m all done here, H,” you smile and turn to me.

“Great,” I smile softly. “Another deal?”

“There’s never too many investors,” you wink, and I can feel my knees getting weak.

“Atta girl,” I chuckle softly. “Do you know that your husband is bragging about your open marriage to everyone?” I watch your cheeks turn pink. Of course you didn’t — what a wanker. “So I was just wondering, since your relationship is now open, would you consider going on a date with me?”

Just say yes, and I’ll show you how you should be treated. After that, I know you won’t be able to go back to him or anyone else — because nobody will treat you as well as I will. Do I intend to steal you from your husband? Make you exclusively mine? God, yes. You were supposed to be my wife from the start, and now I’ll fix it.

Your lips part slightly, like the question took the air out of you, and for a second—just a second—the polished grace you always wear like armor slips. I see you. The real you. Not Tom’s quiet trophy wife, not the brilliant negotiator charming investors, but the woman who once told me she hated champagne but drank it anyway because it was “expected.”

You look up at me, blinking slowly, as if you’re measuring the weight of what I just asked. Your voice, when it comes, is quiet—but not uncertain.

“You’re serious.”

“I’ve never been more.” My voice is steady, low, only for you. “I meant every word. You deserve someone who doesn’t just admire your loyalty, but returns it. Someone who doesn’t make a joke out of you in front of a room full of men with gold watches and empty morals.”

You look down for a moment, and I swear I see your lashes tremble.

“It’s not easy,” you whisper. “Walking away from a marriage with a man you knew over a decade, even when it no longer fits.”

“I know,” I say, gently. “But you wouldn’t be walking alone.”

You let out a soft breath that’s not quite a sigh, not quite relief. “Tom didn’t even tell me he’d… announced it. I only found out last week. A phone notification. Can you believe that?” You laugh, but it’s brittle, hollow. “He didn’t even bother to look me in the eye.”

I clench my jaw. “That’s because he knows he couldn’t face yours.”

Your eyes find mine again. The pink in your cheeks has faded into something stronger now—resolve.

“And if I said yes?”

I smile, slow and real, every nerve in my body lighting up.

“Then I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. No champagne. Just us. And no pretending.” I lean a little closer, my voice dropping. “And if you let me… I’ll start showing you what it’s like to be loved properly.”

There’s a flicker in your gaze, something that feels dangerously like hope. And then—God help me—you nod.

“Okay.”

Just one word. But it’s everything.

From across the room, Tom raises his glass to you like a man who still thinks he’s in control of the game. But he’s already lost.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

We leave the gala early.

Not dramatically—no slammed doors or shattered glasses—but quietly. Elegantly. You slip your hand into mine like it’s always belonged there, like this was inevitable. And maybe it was. Maybe everything in our lives has been leading up to this exact moment: you and me, walking out together while the rest of the world isn’t paying attention.

Tom doesn’t even notice. Too busy laughing at his own jokes, surrounded by men who clap each other on the back and call it ambition. I don’t look back. Neither do you.

The ride to your place is silent, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s heavy—with everything we haven’t said. Your dress brushes against my arm, and every time the car takes a corner, your shoulder leans just slightly into mine.

You unlock the door, and I follow you in.

It still smells like him here—his expensive cologne, his taste in leather furniture, the soulless art he insists is “investment-worthy.” But as you kick off your heels and toss your clutch on the console table, something changes. The energy shifts. You walk barefoot through the hallway, not as someone’s wife, not as a socialite or business pawn, but as you.

Raw. Real. Ready.

You pause at the foot of the stairs and turn to me. “Are you still serious?”

“I wasn’t making a move,” I say. “I was making a promise.”

That stops you for a second. And then you nod slowly, eyes glimmering with something that’s not sadness anymore. Maybe it’s freedom. Or maybe it’s the first spark of something new.

You hold out your hand.

“Then come upstairs.”

It’s not sex—not tonight. Not yet.

You change into something soft. I take off my jacket and roll up my sleeves like I’m preparing for something sacred. And maybe I am. You let your head fall against my shoulder as we sit on the couch in the guest room—yours, not his—and talk.

About everything.

The things you wanted and never got. The things you dreamed of and had to bury. The ache of being seen but never understood.

And I listen. I hold your hand. I offer nothing but truth.

“I would’ve chosen you a thousand times,” I whisper. “Even if you came without the company, the elegance, the money. Even if you came to me messy, angry, torn—I’d still take you.”

You look at me with eyes that are both shattered and shining. “I don’t want to belong to anyone.”

“I don’t want you to,” I say. “I want to stand beside you. That’s all.”

A long silence settles between us, but it feels like peace. Your head leans against my chest. You breathe in. And when you exhale, it’s like you’re finally letting go of a weight you’ve carried alone for far too long.

Tomorrow will be complicated.

But tonight? Tonight, you sleep in my arms, safe for the first time in years. And for the first time in my life, I know exactly what I’m fighting for.

Taglist: @pauli-loveslouistomlinson @cherryberrystompers @hontpwk @avensgreenvans @venusnettles @nanaisinmars @sincerely-yours-marsbar @fallingwillow @myonlyangel13

[c0wboylikeharry]

BUILD-A-BEAR (h.s)

(masterlist) || (taglist) || (requests)

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: before harry goes back on tour, you take him to build-a-bear so he can make you a personalized bear.

word count: 4.1k

cw: just fluffy fluff stuff!

a/n: wrote this as a manger of a build-a-bear, so it’s lore accurate lol. special thanks to those who let me use their names for bear builder characters!!

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

You’ve swindled me. You and those big doe-eyes and pouty lips have me under an unbreakable spell. One where I’d be willing to do just about anything for you. Including subjecting myself to going to a shopping mall for some stupid little kids store you’ve been talking about nonstop for the past week.

Okay, I’m being overly cynical here. I really don’t mind taking you here, or anywhere for that matter. And your eyes only manipulate me a little bit.

I just feel a bit out of place—exposed, if you will. I’m not used to casually going out in such crowded places anymore. It’s foreign to me. Head on a swivel as I wait for someone to ruin what’s meant to be a perfect day together. I won’t let it. If someone recognizes me, I’ll politely decline and we can move on. I just want to have today with you. One of the last days we’ll have for a while when I leave for tour in two weeks.

You’re in shambles over it, I can tell, but you hold yourself together and keep that beautiful smile on your face for my sake. I’d scoop you up and take you with me all over the world, and you know that. But you have a life here, one you don’t intend on deserting just because I have to go do my job. Plus, it makes the reunions that much sweeter.

Walking hand in hand through this overpopulated mall, I squeeze yours just a smidge tighter. The anxiety of being so publicly here is threatening to eat away at me. But, like I said, I won’t let it ruin today.

Instead, I let you guide me through the masses, obviously knowing where you’re going. Having to side step mall walkers and toddlers running away from their parents isn’t exactly how I’d have chosen to spend the fleeting moments with you, but I digress. Keeping that joyous little smile on your face is my main objective for today.

The smell of the food court assaults my nostrils as we pass by. A heavy mix of fried foods, burning flames, and cinnamon buns. It’s nauseating and yet intoxicating all at the same time. I make a mental note to grab you a cinnamon roll on our way out.

After what felt like an hour of walking, I can see the store getting closer and closer. It’s bright. Not even in a good-vibes-flowing kind of way, there’s just a shit ton of LED lights pouring out of it. With hoards of strollers pushing in and out of the doorway, I feel a bit queasy at the prospect of going in. They look busy. And there’s probably so many screaming kids inside. Don’t drop your smile, I mentally curse myself.

Build-A-Bear. A little kid's dream store. A place I don’t understand in the slightest, but damn well will act as if I do for you—and you only.

“What are we here for?” I tug you backwards with our conjoined hands, forcing your steps to fall in line with mine.

“You’re making me a bear,” you reply, staring up at me with that sickly sweet smile you know I fold for.

“I’m making you a bear? I thought you were just looking around?” I groan outwardly, but on the inside, I’m reeling. It’s kind of sweet.

“No, you’re making me one.”

“I don’t know how to make a— Holy…shit.” My previous words die in my throat when you drag me through the threshold of the store.

Lit up like a christmas tree, I was right about the too-bright LED’s in here. It feels like I'm ascending into heaven. And the noise. It’s almost piercing. Kids laughing or screaming or crying, everyone talking at a louder volume than usual, the obnoxious mechanical sound of the stuffing machine, and some messed up version of a Kidz-Bop song blasting through the speakers. It’s overstimulation in its purest form. I don’t even know where to look first. The, seemingly, never ending wall of plushies? The hypnotic churning of the mountain of cotton? The walls and walls of miniature clothing hanging on miniature hangers? It’s all so much. And yet, you seem to be right in your element.

“Hi, guys, welcome in! My name's Gracie! Are we here looking for anything in particular, celebrating anything, or just browsing?” The pint sized girl in the bright blue apron greets us right at the door. Her presence kind of startled me out of my daze, but her beaming smile helps me to keep me in check.

“We’re just browsing,” you reply for the both of us, sending her the same smile that hooked me.

“Great! Let me know if you have any questions!” We both smile in thanks to her and walk further into the store. I can’t help myself from leaning down to your ear to whisper, “I have a question, how in the hell was she smiling so big? I counted all 32 teeth!”

You choke out a laugh, swatting me in the arm for my comment. Even if you’re trying to inflict pain on me, I take it as a win for making you smile.

Standing back to full height, which means towering over all the things in this store that was built for kids, the wall of choices stares back at me. It’s endless. Too much. How they expect people to choose just one bear doesn’t make sense to me. But maybe that’s their shtick? Their scheme? And they’re not even all bears! I thought this was called Build-A-Bear, why am I staring at a Pokémon plushie?

“Baby, am I having a stroke?”

“What are you talking about?” you laugh—1 more point for me.

“I mean, where are all the bears?” I scoff, holding out my hands to gesture to the wall. “I could count maybe 5 bears. They’ve swindled us, baby. They’re liars.”

“Oh my God, you’re so dramatic!” you groan playfully, dragging me further down the assembly line of not-bears.

“What the hell is that?” I come to a skidding stop in front of some pink…creature. It’s on all fours, has a cone shaped tail, and ginormous eyes. It’s even got a creepy, stitched smile to pair with it and successfully send a chill down my spine.

“That’s an axolotl, babe,” you clue me in, smothering a laugh.

An axl-what-tl? “Why is it looking at me like that?”

You laugh loudly again, and I revel in the sound. Giving up on my silent war with the creepy stuffed creature, a smile grows on my face too. Luckily, you drag me away from the thing and toward something I can actually recognize.

“Finally, some bears!”

There’s an assortment of them, begging to be chosen, all of them dressed in wacky outfits and accessories. I mean, what teddy bear needs overalls? They are quite cute, though. The stitched smile doesn’t look as creepy on them as it does on that nightmare fuel back there. And you’ve already got your hands on one. It’s got darker fur, definitely soft, with little patches all over it. You picked the best of the bunch, but I didn’t doubt you in that department.

You chose me after all.

“Need any help choosing a skin?”

I nearly scream a not-kid-friendly word when another worker creeps up behind us. And did she just call the flat bear a skin? What kind of messed up—

“I think we’re going with this one,” your voice cuts my thoughts off, smiling back at this new face.

My eyes drop to her name tag—Isa—and decide this one is harmless, even if she’s too light on her feet for her own good. Bound to give someone a heart attack sneaking up on people like that.

“Great! Did you want to add any sounds into the bear today? You could add a song, one of our prerecorded messages, or your own personal message,” Isa rattles off the list of options, clearly a rehearsed script, but she sells it well. It surprises me how many options we have, though. I thought we just stuffed the thing and went on our merry way.

“Can we do a personal message?” You're clearly not dumbfounded with all of this like I am, moving on the same wavelength as her.

“Of course! Let me grab you the recording device!” Isa scurries away just as quietly as she approached.

I nudge your hip with mine when she’s gone. “What are you gonna say in your message?”

“I’m not saying anything. You’re recording the message.”

“Me?! What? Why am I recording the message?” I gape at you, confused and shocked at this new task I’ve been given. I don’t have anything prepared!

“Because…” You take a step closer to me, crowding my space until your chin is practically resting on my chest, staring up at me with those wide eyes. “I’m gonna need something to listen to while you’re away.”

And into an early grave I go.

“Babe, you’re never going to believe this crazy invention we have called the phone—“

“Harry,” you cut me off, nearly pouting.

“Don’t give me that look.” I can’t help myself from reaching up to brush my thumb across your bottom lip. You pout harder. “Damn you,” I grumble. “Fine. I’ll record the message.”

The pouty look is gone in a flash, replaced with a triumphant smile. I even find myself smiling in defeat. Especially when you rise to your toes to place a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“What am I even supposed to say, baby?” I wrap my arms around your waist, keeping you right up against me.

“Just speak from the heart.”

Easier said than done, I want to say. But I’ll do it for you. Hell, I think it’s clear I’d do anything for you. The sentiment is sweet, too. The mental image of you all alone in bed, cuddling the stuffed bear and playing the sound of my voice on loop has me feeling lightheaded and heartbroken. I knew coming here and making a bear meant something to you, but I didn’t know it meant this much. I’m officially determined to make you the best damn bear there ever was.

Just as I start to brainstorm what the hell I’m going to say, Isa appears again with the little recording device. She explains how it all works, giving us the rundown and every detail we could ever need, before disengaging and leaving us to our own devices. Immediately, I hold the thing close to my mouth and press record.

“Hi, baby—“

“No!” you cut me off with a screech, startling me into stopping.

“Jesus! What? What did I do wrong?”

“I don’t want to hear it yet,” you explain your outburst. “I want it to be a surprise for when I need it.” God damn, just keep breaking my heart, will ya? “Go record it in the corner.”

“So demanding,” I tease, a smirk on my face as I retreat and head for a quiet corner.

For some reason, it feels more intimate recording it alone. At least, in front of you, I’d have your reaction to my words. Know if I’m saying the wrong things or not. Now, with you across the room watching me, I feel nervous. There’s a lot riding on this one recording, so I better make it a good one.

Our eyes connect even from this distance, like magnets being pulled together. I don’t plan on dropping the contact, and I hope you don’t either. I clear my throat and bring the device close to my lips again.

“Hi, baby. It’s me. Even though you’re standing just a few feet away right now, I already miss you. I hope you’re missing me too. Though, if you’re listening to this, I know you are. I’m thinking about you—I always am. I love you down to your bones, baby, every fiber of your being. I’ll be home soon. And, hey, if you miss my voice this much, how about you go ahead and give me a call instead, yeah? I love you.” The recorder beeps at the end of my message, and that whole time my eyes didn’t stray from yours.

A small smile resides on your face like you know what I said. Like you’re feeling the same swell of emotions that washed over me as I spoke. Like you know just how much of a sap I am for you.

I can’t take the distance anymore, strolling back over to you. You’re clearly itching to hear what I had to say, but I won’t spoil the surprise. I like the idea of you missing my voice, of you having this personal message just for your ears. I want you to enjoy it that way. Alone, missing me. Not in a crowded children’s store where anyone can interrupt the intimacy of it all. It’s just for you. It’s all for you.

“Got it in one take?” you ask as soon as I’m standing in front of you.

“I let my heart speak,” I call back to your earlier words, a teasing inflection in my voice despite the truth of my words. The message did just come tumbling out of me, like my brain had no control. My heart kicked its ass out of the driver's seat and took the wheel.

But my answer is enough for you, smiling up at me as if I’d hung the moon. You really do have me wound tight around your pretty little finger.

“Are you guys all ready to stuff?” A worker breaks us out of our loving staring contest, calling her question over from a seat beside the stuffing machine.

I grab your hand in mine. “Why yes, we are.”

“Great! You guys can meet me right on over here.” She motions to the small space in front of her and I drag you over, the bear and the recording in my other hand.

The worker—Matilda—takes the stuff out of my hands and makes quick work of putting the sound in the bear's paw. “Did we want the bear to be soft, firm, or in between?” she asks as she shoves the skin onto the stuffing rod through the hole on its back.

“Soft,” I reply for you.

“Perfect! Whoever wants to can go ahead and step on that pedal right there on the floor!”

I lightly shove you out of the way when you go to press the pedal—I��m supposed to be making this bear for you. Grabbing your hand and keeping you glued to my side, I place my foot on the button and listen as the machine whirs to life. The air pressure on the thing is insane, shooting stuffing straight into the skin. But Matilda seems to be a pro, working it all into the right places with a smile on her face. You snuggle up to my side as we watch in silence, wrapping your arms around my waist. I take the cue to wrap my arm around your shoulders, locking you in place.

“You’re all good to step off!” Matilda announces, and I’m quick to listen. I don’t want to overfill it and make it explode or something. She gives the bear an all inclusive massage before handing it to us to test out.

Smushing the bear against my chest, I get a good feel for how soft it is. But you’ve gotta test-drive it too, so I crush it against your side teasingly. “Whatcha think, baby? Soft enough for you?”

You laugh as I wiggle the bear around on you, tapping my stomach to get me to stop. “Yes! Yes! It’s soft enough.”

With your confirmation, I hand the bear back to the worker. “Did you guys want it to smell like anything?”

“We can make it smell?” Again, I’m dumbfounded at the possibilities. The worker just nods as if she isn’t blowing my mind.

“We’ll skip the smell,” you decide, confusing me since I was ready to buy every little perk they offer. “I’ll spray it with your cologne,” you add, melting my heart down to a boil.

Well, damn, okay, no smell then. Doesn’t seem to phase the worker at all, she’s already jumping right into the next selling point. “This is our beating heart, if you guys want to put your hands right here on their tummy—“ We do as we’re told, “—the heart beats five times when you give it a hug—“

“Yes. We want that. Put that in the bear.” I accidentally cut her off, even though I didn’t mean to. I just got excited. The image in my head of you squeezing the bear to feel the heartbeat while listening to the recording was enough to make me want to pay whatever amount they want for it.

Matilda smiles in response, clearly happy I’m helping her make sales, as she positions the heart just right. “You guys can choose out the plush heart now for the heart ceremony,” she says as she works.

Heart ceremony? Is it like a seance? Are we putting a soul into the bear? What is this place…?

You go to reach for a soft heart from the bin but I swat your hand away just in time, plucking out a checkered one from the bunch. Smiling down at you innocently, you playfully roll your eyes back.

“Okay! With your heart, you’re going to give it a big kiss to put all your love in it!” Matilda starts barking orders, but I oblige. Keeping my eyes locked on yours, I bring the heart to my lips and kiss it gently. The soft look in your eyes has me pressing it against yours too, feeling you just barely graze the tip of my thumb with your lips as you kiss the satin heart. And then, because I can’t control myself around you, I move the heart and replace it with my lips instead. Just a short, sweet kiss to show my deep rooted affection for you. Wouldn’t want to get carried away in a children’s store, even if your sweet lips are tempting me to.

“Now rub the heart on the bear's tummy so they're full of all that love!” What. The. Fuck. Is this some sort of humiliation ritual? I want to protest, but when you squeeze your arms around me tighter, it’s hard to find the will anymore. I rub the damn heart on the bear's tummy. “And on their arms so they give you the biggest hugs!” Today is the day I die of embarrassment. “On their sides so they’ll always be by your side!” How many of these are there?! “And, lastly, on their knees so they’ll always need you!” Thank God it’s over.

Matilda tells me to make a wish and put the heart inside the bear, and I begrudgingly do as I’m told. Having you cling to me like a koala is making me weak. As we sit in silence watching the worker sew the bear up, I feel your lips gently press against my bicep before you untangle yourself from me. I want to scream at the loss of contact, but that would be untoward. Instead, I just snatch your hand back into mine.

Matilda hands us the bear and sends us on our way, into the lion's den, also known as ‘Dress Me’. So many kids are tripping over themselves with excitement to pick out the perfect outfit for their stuffed animal, and I’m nearly tripping over them. No sense of social awareness at all. And where are their parents?

Luckily, I have you to guide me to safety. Dragging me along by the vice grip I have on your delicate hand, you take us to a wall lined with small graphic t-shirts. There’s one for any occasion you could think of. Birthdays, new movies coming out, and even grievances. You make up your mind quickly, reaching for a tee that says ‘Emotional Support Bear’. It shatters and mends my heart all at once.

But we don’t speak of it, because if we did, we’d probably both end up in tears in front of all of these strangers. And I don’t need a four year old witnessing me as a blubbering mess. Instead, I just squeeze your hand a little tighter.

Walking us away from the shirts, I halt to my steps when something catches my eye. Suppressing a laugh as I pick up a tiny pair of boxers for the bear. They’ve got hearts all over the satin, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a pair just like it back home in my drawer. I immediately hand them to you without a word, needing your bear to wear them.

We take the clothes we’ve gathered and your new bear to the designated dressing tables near us. We’re able to find one that doesn’t have kids climbing on it or older people taking a rest, so we take it as a win. I watch as you place the bear down on the white counter as if it’s a delicate baby, but when you get it dressed, it’s anything but. Remind me to give you some classes on how to dress a child before we have kids because you can’t be this rough.

“Baby, you’re gonna kill him squeezing his head like that.”

“His head’s too big for the stupid hole!” you groan, mushing the bear's head until it can slip through. Laughing silently at your frustration, my arm subconsciously wraps around your waist to pull you closer.

You finish dressing the bear, going on and on about how adorable the little tail hole on the boxers is, and cuddle it to your chest. In my head, I’m going on and on about how adorable you are. Again, I can’t resist the urge to bury my face against the crown of your head and kiss your hair.

Keeping my hands on your waist, you lead us over to the next station. A row of computer screens stare back at us, and you inform me that this is where we make the bear's birth certificate. A fucking birth certificate for a bear. This place is ridiculous, and yet so endearing. Either way, I watch as your hands move around the screen, typing out the name you’ve chosen.

Bearry.

It’s so damn sweet, I would be okay if the pounding of my heart killed me right now. Leaning down, I bury my nose into the crook of your neck. I don’t care if we look like those annoying couples in line at an amusement park, clinging to each other for no other reason than to shove PDA down everyone else’s throats. When I’m around you, I genuinely just can’t help myself. Pressing my lips against your soft skin as you fill out whatever other information they need.

I only tear myself from you when we have to go pay, walking over to the registers and getting greeted by—yet another—overly joyful employee. Brook hands us the fresh-off-the-printer certificate and sells me on just about anything and everything before I can finally swipe my card. You practically bounce on your feet as the little guy is boxed up in its ‘condo’. This right here is the smile I want to keep on your face forever.

Brook hands me my receipt, along with the 3 new gift cards she manipulated me into getting, and says, “Have a great day,” to send us off.

With one hand holding the handle of the bear’s condo, and the other holding the owner of my heart’s hand, we finally make our way out of the store. Still side stepping babies and narrowly avoiding the life-size bear they have at the front—totally creepy.

But I don’t let us get too far before I’m stopping my steps and tugging you backwards into me. I unlace my hand from yours and place it on your cheek instead, staring down at my whole world.

“I’m going to miss you like hell, you know that right?” I don’t want to bring the mood down, but the words have been dying to jump off my tongue.

You nod in acknowledgment, and I know it’s just so you won’t cry if you open your mouth to respond. Your eyes are already slightly glassy. So, I comfort you with how I know best. Dragging your face up to mine, I press my lips to yours. Lips entangling for a brief moment of love and warmth. Of reassurance and affection.

I pull back only to murmur against your lips, “Don’t replace me with Bearry.”

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