harry-stylesarchives

[harry-stylesarchives]

Late Night Recording Sessions

Pairing: Harry Styles x Daisy OC

CW: Explicit sexual content, Daddy kink, slight age gap, light spanking, fingering, sweet aftercare SoftDom!Harry X Clingy!Daisy, mentions of the mustache (Iykyk)

Summary: Daisy’s tired of waiting for her hot older boyfriend to finish his late-night recording session—so he gives her something to keep her busy until he’s done.

AN: Sorry if there are some misspelled words, English is not my first language,

“Hmm, let’s run that part back…” Harry says to the producer—whose name Daisy can’t even remember—his voice low and steady, the kind he only uses when he’s lost in the music. The studio is dark, lit by the faint red and blue glow of the control panel and the warm haze of a single lamp in the corner. The air is thick with the smell of burnt wires, cold coffee, and Harry’s woody cologne, still clinging to the room after hours of being trapped here.

Daisy is sprawled across the black leather sofa, sinking into its worn cushions. Her bare feet rest lazily on the arm, Harry’s jacket draped over her legs because the place feels like an icebox. She sneaks a look at him: the scruff on his jaw gives him that rough, careless edge that drives her insane, and the mustache makes him look older, sharper—like the whole room bends toward him. His hair is a mess under the pink beanie he tossed on, his jeans hugging him just right, and his graphic tee—some obscure band she’s never heard of—makes him look impossibly cool. Her gaze trails over the tattoos scattered across his sun-kissed skin, ink still dark against the tan he brought back from vacation. Each line seems to call her name, scream at her, remind her that he’s hers.

It’s almost 2:15 a.m., the bright red digits of the digital clock glaring at her like a reminder of how late it really is. Daisy knows he’s not going anywhere soon—not with that obsessive focus in his eyes, like nothing else in the world matters except the song.

Harry glances her way for just a second, brow furrowed in concentration, but the slight curve of his mouth gives him away. He looks at her with that calm, steady gaze that always makes her knees go weak. “What’s with that face, bunny?” he asks, his voice deep, almost amused, though he’s still leaning against the console like he owns the room.

Daisy lets out a small whimper, more like a sigh that could almost be tears. “I’m tired…can we go home?” she murmurs, burying her face into the cushion, yet her eyes keep tracking him, following every movement.

Slowly, deliberately, Harry lets the headphones slip around his neck and pivots toward her. His eyes are serious, firm, but there’s a warmth there that makes her heart ache. “Almost done, baby… c’mere,” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding, the kind that brooks no argument. Daisy doesn’t hesitate. She rises from the sofa in small, careful steps, closing the distance until she’s right by his side, her hand brushing his as she stands next to him.

Harry isn’t shy about showing affection in public, especially with Daisy. He gently takes her hand and guides her onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She melts against his chest without hesitation, her head resting just under his chin. Harry leans down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her cheek, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as well.

Daisy turns her gaze toward him, eyes wide and shining, the unspoken plea in them practically screaming I need you, like the world outside the studio doesn’t exist. Harry’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile at that look he’s seen a thousand times, a smile that carries both amusement and authority.

“Hmmm… I know what’s wrong,” he murmurs, his voice low, confident, a little teasing, as if he’s enjoying watching her burn with impatience. Daisy feels her cheeks heat instantly under his attention, her body instinctively pressing closer.

His large hands glide slowly down the soft fabric of her skirt, cupping her bare thighs with long, warm fingers that knead gently but possessively. She shivers, biting her lip to stifle a soft, needy sigh. Harry tilts his head, brushing his lips along her ear, his hands moving with the kind of confident, deliberate control that makes her heart race and knees go weak.

“Alright, I’m gonna take ten. Daisy’s not feeling too good.” His voice cuts through the low hum of the studio, calm but firm, leaving no room for argument. He doesn’t bother with long explanations; the words are all that’s needed. The producer glances up from his screen, nodding quickly.

“Sure, man. There’s a pharmacy a few blocks away if you need anything,” he says, already typing away on his laptop. Harry’s gaze immediately returns to Daisy, warm and intent, as he helps her off his lap.

“Come on, bunny… I’m getting you out of here,” he murmurs, his arms wrap around her waist, lifting her effortlessly as if she’s made of glass. Daisy clings to his T-shirt instinctively, her small hands pressing into his chest, silently begging him not to let go. Harry doesn’t rush. He moves smoothly, guiding her out of the main room and down the narrow hallway that smells faintly of stale coffee and worn carpet.

Instead of heading straight for the exit, he pushes open the door to one of the private rooms—a small, hidden lounge tucked away for breaks. The light here is softer, golden and warm, a stark contrast to the harsh glare of the studio. A plush sofa rests against the wall, and Harry lowers her gently onto it, letting her settle before he moves.

“We’re not going home?” She asks looking up at him, his tattoos gleam softly under the dim light

“Spread your legs for me, bunny.” Harry’s voice drops low, deep, carrying that edge that doesn’t leave room for a single doubt. Daisy looks up at him for just a heartbeat, her eyes glimmering in the dim light, her chest tight with how hard her heart is pounding. She swallows and obeys, not even trusting herself to think too much about it.

Her thighs tremble as she eases them apart, the movement hesitant, almost shy—like the simple act already strips her bare. The air in the little room feels heavier now, thick with her perfume and the electric pull of what’s about to happen.

Harry leans in slow, steady, planting one big hand on the sofa for balance while the other drifts down, brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of her knee before nudging her open just a little wider. Even crouched in front of her, he feels impossibly imposing, all that ink and muscle making him look dangerous—yet his gaze softens everything. Those green eyes pin her in place, sharp and intent, as if the rest of the world has gone dark and she’s the only thing that exists.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowers his head until his lips graze the inside of her thigh. The kiss is wet, unhurried, almost reverent, and it leaves a searing heat on her skin that makes her shiver. Daisy curls her fingers tight around the cushion, gripping it like she needs something solid to hold onto before she completely unravels.

“Your mustache is tickling me, daddy…” Daisy whispers, her voice trembling between a shy laugh and a moan, trying to hide her smile as she glances down at him.

Harry’s lips curve into a slow grin, sharp and knowing, as he bites down gently on the soft flesh of her thigh, making her gasp. His eyes flick up at her, green and burning, holding her in place without even needing to say much.

“Yeah, baby? It tickles?” he murmurs, his tone low and teasing, laced with that authority that makes her squirm. He deliberately drags the rough edge of his mustache across her skin again, slower this time, brushing back and forth along the inside of her thigh, closer—dangerously closer—to where she’s throbbing for him.

Daisy lets out a shaky breath, her hands clutching the sofa cushion for something to anchor herself, but Harry doesn’t let her hide. His big hand spreads firmly across her stomach, holding her steady, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

“Don’t move,” he warns softly, almost a growl, before pressing his face back into her, rubbing his mustache against her sensitive skin with purposeful pressure, making her whimper. “You’re gonna take it for me, bunny. All of it.”

Daisy whines softly as his hot breath hits her covered pussy, he doesn’t even bother taking her panties off or pulling them aside. She gasps when he rips a hole in the middle of her pink panties.

“Those were my favorites…” She sigh and lift her hips needing him now, rough and hard

“I’ll buy you new ones, bunny,” Harry mutters, voice rough with amusement before lowering his mouth to her. His tongue flicks over her clit and Daisy instantly moans, hips jerking forward in desperate need, grinding against the scrape of his mustache that makes every nerve in her body spark.

He doesn’t rush. He opens his mouth wider, dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe from her entrance up to her clit, savoring every second. The sound he makes—half a groan, half a hum—vibrates against her and she gasps, clutching at the sofa as if it could hold her together.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” Harry growls against her, his words hot against her soaked skin. He glances up at her through heavy lashes, lips glistening. “Been thinkin’ about eating this pretty pussy all damn day.”

“Oh my- daddy…please” Daisy says, her eyes glossy, she is a really sensitive girl. Every time they have sex, she can’t help but cry a little just because she loves him so much, Daisy loves when he kisses her, or runs his hand up and down after a lazy fuck in the morning, she loves the small kisses on her back that he gives her to wake her up. The way he calls her princess, bunny, baby…she needs his attention all the time.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.” His voice drips with authority, right before he presses a slow, teasing kiss to her clit. Daisy jolts in place, her body betraying her even as her mind scrambles for words.

While she struggles to think, his thumb starts moving in lazy, deliberate circles over her soaked pussy—so slow it’s maddening, so precise it leaves her dumb and aching.

“Cat got your tongue, bunny?” Harry taunts, his lips pulling into a pout that only makes the mocking sharper. Daisy whimpers, turning her face away in embarrassment—until the sharp sting of his hand against her thigh makes her gasp, snapping her head back toward him.

“I’m talking to you,” he says firmly, his green eyes locking her in place. “And you look at me when I’m talking to you and when I’m eating your pussy.”

Her cheeks burn, and she nods quickly, arching her back as her teeth worry the nail of her thumb, trying to ground herself.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “Just—just wanna cum.”

“Oh yeah?” Daisy cries lightly nodding with her head, too desperate and needy. “I always make my bunny cum, don’t I? You can cum, pretty princess…” A slow, wicked smile curves across Harry’s mouth as he lowers his head again. His tongue flattens against her pussy, licking a long stripe before closing his lips around her clit, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. At the same time, two thick fingers slide inside her tight heat, curling just right as her body bows off the couch in helpless need.

“I’m- I’m cumming daddy…mmm” She whines as he scissors his fingers inside her velvet walls clenching around him, Harry flicks his tongue on her clit shaking his head making his mustache rubs against her making her screams as she covers her faces feeling her legs trembling.

“Cum for me, baby bunny” He orders and that’s all it takes to make her cum on his mouth as the explicit and naughty sound of her juices on his mouth fills her ears.

She is breathing heavily as she closes her eyes and sobs lightly, her legs are shaking over his shoulders, when did he place her legs over his shoulders?.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay baby…I’m here” He says pressing kisses on her thighs as he slowly snakes up to her side and pulls her onto his lap, she snuggles her face in the crook of his neck and let him take care of her. “You did so good f’me…so so good” He whispers kissing her head.

“I love you…” She says pressing her lips on the skin of his neck. Daisy knows she can’t see him but- she knows he’s smiling.

“I love you even more bunny, more than words can describe…”

Harry has her heart in the palm of his hand, and she knows that it’s exactly where it supposed to be.

[harry-stylesarchives]

Such a Good Girl

Pairing: Harry Styles x Daisy OC

CW: Daddy kink, slight age gap, SoftDom!Harry X Clingy!Daisy. Slight mention of oral sex

Summary: Where Daisy is Harry’s much younger, controversial girlfriend and she likes to have his attention all the time. <3

Daisy’s fingers are laced with Harry’s as they move through the wide aisles of the department store. Her steps are light, almost bouncy, while his navy blue pants brush against her ankles with every stride. The beat-up black Vans on his feet look even more worn under the bright, polished lights overhead. His gray Blur T-shirt, the one that says Modern Life is Rubbish across the front, looks like it carries a piece of another lifetime.

Harry, walking steady at her side, is locked in on the task at hand. He bends slightly over the display of kitchen utensils, picks up a spatula, turns it in his fingers, inspecting every detail like it matters. His brows knit, his hand drags slowly across the stubble on his jaw, and finally he glances toward Daisy, almost asking without words if she approves. Her smile softens him, but he still treats the decision like he’s building something that has to last.

She doesn’t let him have too much space. Daisy presses herself against his back as they move down the aisle, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding tight, like she could keep him all to herself if she just squeezed hard enough. Her cheek brushes between his shoulder blades before she trails up to his jaw, nipping playfully at the dark scruff that makes him look older, more solid.

“Are we almost done? I’m bored…” she whines softly, her voice lilting, almost like a purr, as she peppers kisses against his skin just to get his eyes on her.

“Almost done, bunny,” Harry mutters, still focused, his frown deepening as he compares the set of ladles in his hands. His long fingers move carefully, deliberate in every motion. But he feels her arms locked around him, feels the heat of her body pressed flush against his, and even as he keeps his composure, a part of him already gives in.

She lets out a dramatic sigh and clings tighter, circling him like she owns his space, brushing against his torso every time she takes a step. Even if he’s lost in the world of kitchen utensils, she still needs to remind him that she should come first.

“These ones are so pretty…” Daisy murmurs, her voice soft, almost dreamy, as she lifts a set of pink-handled spatulas and ladles like they’re some kind of treasure. “Can we take these?”

Harry doesn’t even glance up. His tone stays calm, steady, that quiet authority that makes her melt no matter how much it annoys her. “Those are cheap, Bambi. They won’t last.” He crouches slightly, studying a set of polished steel, his long fingers wrapping easily around the cool handles, testing their weight like the choice actually matters.

Daisy huffs and drops the pink set back onto the shelf, crossing her arms with an exaggerated pout. What she really wants is for him to pull her in, to hold her tight, to remind her she’s his princess. Instead, she brushes her leg against his as she steps closer, little touches meant to pull his focus back where it belongs—on her.

“Baby,” Harry says finally, still looking between the two sets in his hands, his voice low but firm, “do me a favor and grab the lady who was helping us earlier with the cookware? I’m stuck between these two, and I want to make sure I pick the best one.”

With a long, dramatic sigh that feels way heavier than it should, Daisy peels herself away from Harry and trudges toward the young woman who’d been helping them earlier. Her steps are slow, almost dragging, like every one is proof of how badly she just wants to be back at the villa—away from the bright lights and endless aisles.

While Harry talks to the assistant, Daisy can’t take her eyes off him. The way he frowns in concentration, long fingers tracing over the steel handles, testing every detail like it’s life or death—it makes her chest tighten. That calm, steady voice of his, giving clear instructions without even thinking about it, makes her melt, even if it’s not directed at her.

She can’t resist slipping back into his space. She presses herself against him from behind, arms winding around his waist, cheek resting against his back as she listens in. Her body molds against his like it belongs there, chasing the warmth, chasing him—anything to remind herself that he’s hers, even when he’s completely locked in on kitchen utensils.

Then she feels it. His big, warm hand drops to her lower back, steady and sure. It’s nothing dramatic, barely even a gesture, but it’s enough. Possessive. Grounding. It tells her she’s seen, even if he hasn’t looked at her yet. Daisy exhales, torn between patience and need, knowing he’ll give her his full attention when he decides—and that waiting only winds her tighter.

“Alright, thank you so much,” Harry says finally, dropping a set of utensils into her shopping basket like the decision’s been made. Relief floods her chest.

“Okay, bunny,” he murmurs, looking at her for the first time in what feels like forever, “we’re all done.”

And that’s it—that look. The one she’s been starving for. Daisy’s heart skips, her body buzzing with the desperate ache of finally being seen, finally being the center of his focus again.

“What’s wrong, baby?…you feeling sick?” Harry asks right away, his hand tightening around her waist. Daisy shakes her head, resting her chin against his chest.

“You traded me for stupid kitchen utensils…” she mutters, her pout heavy enough to make him laugh. He lets out a low, genuine chuckle and steals a quick kiss from her lips.

“It’s not funny, Daddy. I don’t like it when you ignore me.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Bambi. I was just focused. You know you’ve got my attention all the time.” His hands squeeze her hips, grounding her, before kissing her again—slower this time, more lingering.

Then, softer, his lips brushing against her cheek, he murmurs, “Guess I owe my pretty girl a little reward for being so patient, huh?” His thumb strokes the curve of her hip as his tone dips, calm but full of promise. “Let me make it up to you when we get home.”

“Are you gonna make me dinner?” Daisy asks with a playful pout, her arms sliding around his neck. She presses a kiss to his mouth, feeling the faint scratch of his mustache against her skin, soft but grounding.

Harry’s lips curve into that slow, confident grin that always makes her knees feel weak. His voice drops, steady and certain, like it’s already decided. “Mhmm, I’ll make you dinner…” He leans in closer, brushing his nose against hers, his breath warm. His hand squeezes her waist, firm enough to remind her who she belongs to. “And then—” he pauses, letting the weight of his words hang in the air as his thumb drags lazily over her hip, “I’m gonna have you for dessert.” His tone is low but playful, commanding in a way that makes her chest tighten with need.

Daisy hides her face against his neck, half embarrassed, half desperate for more of that attention, but Harry tilts her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Don’t go all shy on me now, Bambi,” he teases, kissing her again, deeper this time. “You wanted my attention, and now you’ve got all of it.”

[harry-stylesarchives]

The Other Woman

Hey my love bugs! This idea came to me and I couldn't get it out of my head so I needed to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I've been trying my hand at angst lately because it's been my weak spot- but we all know I'll give you a happy ending.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 300+ exclusive writings

WC- 4.5k

Warnings- infidelity (h with y/n), manhandling, angst, guilt, y/n grabs him but he likes it, anxiety, Harry is a flawed individual

————-

“What are you doing here?” Harry’s voice was hissed, quiet but rough as he crowded her in the kitchen. 

She had some fucking nerve. Showing up to the house with his girlfriend who was blissfully unaware in the backyard, taking up her offer on coming to the damn cookout that she had planned. 

Harry had known better than to ever bring Y/N home. His other woman. As much as he hated the sound of that, it was the truth.

“Wanted to see where you play house, even though you aren’t really happy.” She said calmly, spiking her lemonade. There was nothing cluing him into her motivation lingering in her pretty eyes. 

Those fucking eyes. He hated how much he loved them. How much he thought of them. 

“It’s nice digs, babe. Love it, actually.” She murmured, leaning against the counter and turning to face him. It was evident that he was too close to her but he didn’t back up- and she didn’t back down. Y/N never did.

“You shouldn’t fucking be here.” He said through grit teeth. “You know this is a massive overstep. A huge fucking invasion of my privacy-“

“Probably shouldn’t cheat on your girlfriend, then.” Y/N chirped, wrapping her lips around the straw of her drink. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

Those lips had done and seen a whole lot of shit that Harry really, really shouldn’t have done. 

Shit that he couldn’t stop doing, no matter how hard he tried.

“Is this because I didn’t answer you yesterday?” He knew Y/N was spiteful, she was petty, but this was going too far. 

“Partially. But I was Sarah’s plus one and she told me she was nervous. It’d have been fucked up to say no. I’m not a shit friend.” Pointing her long fingernail at him, she made a circle motion with it. “Getting to see you uneasy and pissed off was only to sweeten the deal. I didn’t come here to rub anything in her face. I feel like shit for doing this to her.” 

Harry felt like he was going to lose it. He was going to lose his fucking mind, really, because he had been drowning in guilt and yet unable to stop thinking about this fucking woman.

His brain hadn’t relaxed one singular time since he’d met her.

How she sounded when her breathy voice said his name. How her hair felt fisted in his hand. Her soft skin pressed up against his. The way she’d fuck back into him like she couldn’t get enough of his cock. How she’d suck his fingers and drool on them when he took her, wanting to keep quiet. The soft giggles she’d let out after sex, the post coital high where she’d climb on top of him, cum dripping out of her be damned, and kiss on his face. 

She made him feel wanted in a different way. 

Even if she was slightly evil. 

“You can’t be here.” He said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. Really, he had to put his foot down and he knew it, but it was hard. So fucking hard when she stood there in a fucking bikini, tits out and a fucking string in between her ass to count as bottoms. “And you can’t- you can’t wear that.”

Y/N’s playful nonchalance shifted. A dark look taking over her face as she shifted her jaw, real anger taking place on her face- and he knew he fucked up. 

He fucked up enough to where he knew he deserved her hand around his throat, her bracelets jingling together as he felt her palm, cold from her drink, settle right over the middle of it. Swallowing harshly, he knew she’d feel it against her hand. Knew she’d feel his cock kick up against her stomach.

Fuck, he was hard. So fucking hard it hurt. If he didn’t have a stain from where his cock was leaking it would be a miracle. 

She knew what it did to him when she was like this. 

Harry loved her mean. Loved her nasty. 

What he didn’t love was disappointing her.

“Don’t you ever tell a woman what she can and can’t wear.” She spit, disgust coating her words. “You’re better than that, Harry. At least I thought you were.”

Shame coated him, making him shrink slightly. It was a misunderstanding, a miswording because he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He knew her experience with that. He wasn’t like that- he never had been. It wasn’t that he wanted to control what she wore, but- it was killing him. 

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dove. I didn’t mean it like that.” He whispered, hesitantly putting his hand at risk by choosing to hold her face. A completely risky move consider where they were and her mood, but he could feel her hand loosen. “I don’t mean… m’not saying it in a controlling way. Or to shame. I mean it because…”

Harry didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to admit that he was horribly aroused by the state of her, to the point that he felt anxious. 

“Because what, Honey?” She asked, swapping her loose grip on his throat for dragging her nails up and through his hair. 

If anyone walked in, he’d be fucked. He’d be caught. And he hated that it made his cock twitch at the thought. 

“Because you know what you’re doing to me.” He whispered, looking down at the obvious bulge before back to her face. “And it’s becoming hard to hide it. You come to my house a-and you tease me. I can’t have you here.”

“Oh? And why not?” She was playing dumb and they both knew it, but Harry couldn’t stop the sigh he let out as her nails dragged over his scalp. His favorite thing she did for him. 

“Because if I have- if I have memories of you here, it’ll fuck me up. I’ve been trying to figure this all out and you fucking take up so much of my mind. I’ll never be able to come in here again without seeing this. You’re haunting me, and I don’t know what to do.” 

It was his house where his girlfriend regularly stayed. She had a toothbrush here. Drawers in his closet. It felt like too much. He was already a bastard for it and he knew that she didn’t deserve him. She deserved better. But he couldn’t give Y/N up. 

“Okay.” Y/N said softly, letting her hand drop to his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

The apology struck him like a hand to the face. Y/N wasn’t one to apologize about much- but it seemed genuine. 

“You are?”

“Yeah.” She said quietly. “I knew it was a bad idea. You have told me I’m not supposed to come here. And… I should have respected that.”

That… was different. 

“I um…” Harry struggled for words, licking his lips as he tried to think of what to say back. “It’s not personal-“

“It is.” Y/N held his gaze. “It’s very personal. I should have taken the hint from you not answering me yesterday that you want to be done with this. I’m sorry for intruding.” 

That’s the result he wanted. He wanted her to leave, he thought, but the prospect of it actually happening- of this being over- sent actual, real, hot panic searing through him. When she went to pull away he felt his stomach plummet to his feet.

“N-no! No, Dove, I don’t-“ he looked through the house to make sure no one was around and once the coast was clear, he was pulling her off to the side. Into his home office, through the hallway, pulling her in there and closing the door. 

Her face was rightfully confused. He understood it. He was hot and cold and he wasn’t being fair to anyone. This was his problem. He was a selfish dick, he was a real prick, but he didn’t want to lose Y/N. “I don’t want this to be over.” He kept his voice low. “I-That isn’t what I meant by not responding.”

It was. But he changed his mind. 

Seeing her again had him crumbling like a fucking sandcastle that had dried out. 

“Well what did it mean?” She asked hesitantly, unsure where he was going with this. 

“I was busy. I was overwhelmed and I haven’t had a lot of time lately to decompress and when you asked me where this was going I got panicked because I don’t like the idea of not being with you.”

“Then break up with her.” Y/N said, as if it was that simple.

“I don’t want to break her heart. She’s a good woman.” He said quietly, blinking as he looked down at his desk. “I know it may not make sense to you but- I want you. I really, really want you and I’m trying to figure out how to do this. I’m just overwhelmed.” 

He hated himself for feeling the sting behind his eyes. He wasn’t a victim in any of this and he knew that, but everything felt like a lot. Though he didn’t let any of the welling tears fall because this wasn’t about him. He was the fuck up here. He couldn’t blame Y/N for this. He had started it.

“Harry- honey.” Y/N softened, a rare occasion as she caught the real anxiety bleeding through. “You aren’t doing her any favors if you want someone else. I hate to be blunt, but you’re jerking two people around. I’m not going to wait around and be a side piece forever.” To be fair, it hadn’t started that way. 

He’d fucked her the first two times when his girlfriend had asked for a break. It just hadn’t stopped. 

Harry had love for his girlfriend. He did. But it wasn’t what it was supposed to be. However he knew she’d been hurt before and he didn’t want to do it to her again. Like she could read his mind, Y/N continued. “All this is doing is hurting three people instead of one, Harry. I can put on a brave face and pretend it doesn’t bother me that the guy I’m seeing doesn’t want me at his house, doesn’t like me enough to be with only me, but I can’t do it forever. That woman also deserves better than someone who isn’t fully into her. She could have better.” She paused. “That sounds mean, but it’s true. You aren’t committed. Staying just to avoid pain will only cause more later”

Fuck her for being right. Fuck her for knowing what to say. 

And fuck him for wanting to cry. 

Harry hated how much he liked her, how much his body liked her. How much he dreamed of her, how he couldn’t let her go despite trying to keep his heart out of it. She was taking up so much of his thoughts that any efforts to rid them were futile.  It had been instantaneous the night they met, the connection. They’d been kissing 2 hours after they met, in her bed 4 hours after, and he stayed for 3 days straight. It was anything but casual no matter how hard he tried to frame it in his mind.

He just kept fucking up.

“I know.” He swallowed, feeling her hand leave his arm. “I don’t want to be doing this to you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I swear.”

“Then stop doing it to me. To us. You can be with me.” She said simply, looking over his face. She could see his glossy eyes, the slight tremble in his fingertips and it had her wanting to touch him. To comfort, despite the shit he was doing to her. It was a sickness, how desperately she wanted to be close to him. Like those damn magnets pulling them back to each other. “You can have me fully if I’m the only one.” 

Tilting her head to the side, she made a decision as she stepped closer to him and slowly raised an arm to rest over his shoulder. Fitting her body against his chest, she took his arm and wrapped it around her waist. “You can have all of me. Not just my body. You already have more than I ever wanted to give to a man that doesn’t worship the ground I walk on.” 

The problem was, he sort of did. He didn’t show it in the way he wanted to, but he was obsessed. It hurt to hear that, but he deserved that. He hadn’t given her real indication that she was his obsession when they weren’t fucking. She had no clue he stared at photos of her, that he bought things she mentioned in passing just to try them, that he had three separate playlists for her. The photos in the hidden folder of his phone where he’d taken them of her was his most used screen time. 

But he hadn’t been able to show her how badly he wanted her wrapped up in his bed, to drag her awake with soft kisses and gentle caresses, breakfast in bed like she deserved. All he fucking did was prove he was similar to the men who had already hurt her, and that was the worst thing he could have done.

“I’m sorry.” He said weakly. “I’m sorry for putting you through this. For putting her through this. I’m just- I want you so badly.” His voice quivered as he tried to express the thoughts but his brain was a wreck. “I don’t want to let anyone down. I know I already have. I fucking- I did this and fucked up. Not you- you’re never a fuck up. But I should have never agreed to get back together with her.” His head flopped down, laying his forehead against hers. “It was just habit. It’s what always happened. I wasn’t thinking and I trapped myself.”

Holding her felt so good it was almost ridiculous. Tension melted from his body as he held her tighter, lifting his face to kiss her forehead, like he had the right to. 

What was he doing? Why was he fighting the inevitable? He wanted Y/N. He’d wanted her since he saw her across the shitty bar top. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since. Even when he was with his girlfriend, all he could think of was her. They hadn’t fucked since he met Y/N because he quite literally couldn’t get it up for her. As pathetic as it sounded, his cock had made its decision before he had. 

“I don’t want to back you into a corner. You don’t have to pick me.” Y/N said honestly, though he could hear that she didn’t love that idea. “I don’t want to force this. As much as me coming here tonight was to fuck with you a little- I want you to be happy.”

Y/N was a hard read. Even now, he didn’t always know exactly what she was thinking- but it was better than before. The woman had always fascinated him, her brain something he wanted to explore, her smart mouth making him giddy- their chemistry took him off guard. He was the opposite of her. She was scrappy and a little mean, sarcastic and quiet- but he loved it. He loved their balance. 

Harry loved seeing the softer bits, bits that he’d only seen when they were all alone. The privilege of getting to see those wasn’t lost on him, but he also knew he had taken it for granted. He was a scared little boy, afraid of breaking hearts, of possibly losing two people though it had been over with the first a long time ago and should have stayed over. 

Especially when he met Y/N. She was his reason to move on.

“I want you.” It was said definitively, curling his other hand around her chin. “I… I’m being cruel. And it isn’t fair when I want you so badly that I can’t even have you here or I knew I’d break.”

The idea of her here had made him panic simply because he knew that he’d never be able to forget her there. Her image would be imprinted in his brain wherever she went. It would happen in here, anywhere she set foot. Like she belonged here. If he saw her in his bed, he’d always see her there. Her side would always be her side. If he saw her in his living room, he’d never be able to look at his sofa without seeing her laid out there. 

Y/N had started to invade every corner of his brain since he’d met her, and he didn’t see an end in sight. 

“I’m going to end it with her. Tonight.” He wasn’t going to go back on it. Something about seeing her exactly where he had always tried to avoid it had kicked something into place. “I want you, Y/N. I’m stupid, and I’ve done a lot of shit that I’m going to have to make up for but I can’t keep pretending like you don’t drive me fucking wild.” 

He’d never felt like this before and it was terrifying. Like his nerves were exposed, like he wasn’t able to keep his cool. Y/N had immediately turned him into a bit of a mess, taking some of the control he hadn’t known he had always had and shifting his world on its axis. 

The relationship he was in was comfortable. Familiar. On and off, yeah, but he’d been okay with that- until he met her. He couldn’t imagine being off with her. And maybe that should have been a clue. 

He loved his girlfriend but not in the way a man should love his partner. It was akin to friendship, wanting the best and not wanting to hurt her. He wanted to be there for her. But fabricating this relationship that way wasn’t fair to her and he shouldn’t do it just to keep her happy. 

Considering they hadn’t been intimate since before he’d even properly met Y/N, he was pretty sure she wasn’t all that happy either. 

Neither of them wanted to be alone and it worked for a while. But it wasn’t anymore, and that was something he needed to work on.

“It has to happen tonight, Harry. Or I’m not staying. I’m going to move on if it doesn’t because I deserve more than this…Than sneaking around. I want you to be proud to be with me.” 

She did. Hearing the slight unease in her voice had his chest squeezing tight. It really was now or never. He wasn’t going to fuck it up again. Maybe he was selfish- he knew he was, now- but he wanted Y/N more than he’d ever wanted anything else. It was time to stop fucking around, to grow the fuck up and be a man. Give Y/N what she needed and be the man she needed to be. The one she deserved. 

At the end of the day, he had always wanted to be that. He had wanted to get her flowers, wanted to take her to see the movies, to lounge lazily every weekend without having to stress out about excuses. He wanted to give her every lick of his attention, to be with her without the anxiety looming over him. 

It was going to take time to prove he could do it, but he knew she was worth every single second. 

“I’m doing it, Dove.” He whispered, tilting her face up to him and catching her lips. Chaste and soft, he didn’t move it towards the territory it always went. 

After this, he could have every type of kiss. The slow, the soft, the sweet, the ones that didn’t lead to sex. There would be no more ‘leading her on’ because he was hers.

Harry had been hers for a long, long time. 

“I want to be yours, Y/N.  I’m going to make it happen. After the party I’m going to have a chat with her. Be honest and say I met someone and I really fucking like her… Tell her we’ve been wasting our time. She deserves someone who wants her in more ways than an obligation.” It was harsh, but true. He cared about his girlfriend- but not in the way, or as much as he cared about Y/N.

“Okay.” She whispered against his lips, giving a hesitant smile. “Will you come over after you do it?”

“I’ll do anything for you, Dove. I’ve been yours longer than you could imagine.”

[harry-stylesarchives]

Desperate*

1.8k blurb - Harry Styles x Y/N 18+

Warnings: smut, edging, hole checks, somnophilia, creampie, cockwarming, choking 

—

Harry liked when Y/N was desperate. He loved working her up, teasing her all day until she was a squirmy mess of a girl. Sometimes he’d leave her for days, once even weeks. When she’d get like this he loved pulling her over his knee, taking a moment to admire the ever evident wet patch on her underwear before slipping his fingers past the elastic of her panties and feeling how sticky and swollen she was. She’d whimper and wine, begging for him to finally let her finish and he’d tsk, saying ‘but baby, you look so pretty like this’. 

He might play with her for a minute, spreading her labia apart to inspect her hole, ensuring she was as wet and puffy as she should be. She had been naughty in the past and touched herself, it was only precaution. He’d coat his fingers in his arousal before extracting them, adjusting her underwear back and giving her a pat on the bum before telling her to go on her way. 

His favorite was bringing her right to the edge, making her think he was finally going to fuck her, before excusing himself to take a shower so that he could get himself off. He loved seeing the tears well in her eyes when she realized he was once again leaving her unattended. Hearing her sweet voice spill plea after plea to take care of her, to finish what he’d started. ‘In due time my angel. You know I always take care of you’ he’d reassure her, wiping away the remnants of her hot tears from her cheeks before excusing himself to take a shower. 

Often when Harry was being mean like this, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her soft, sleepy moans. He’d prop himself up on an elbow and watch her as she twitched and whimpered in her sleep; surely dreaming about him. Sometimes he’d pull the covers and part her legs just wide enough to take a look at her. Taking his thumb he’d stroke between her puffy lips, spreading her labia just far enough to get a look at her weepy hole. He loved seeing her arousal glimmering in the dim light, glistening and shiny in the soft expanse between her thighs. 

It was nearly impossible for Harry to not be hard around Y/N. He understood, quite well, how easily squirmy she got around him. He felt it with her too, he was just much better at keeping his composure. But sometimes he was a weak man, and seeing her all whimpery and wet in her sleep like this always made those hard walls come crumbling down. 

With one hand stroking gently between her folds he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and grabbed his rapidly hardening cock. After giving himself a few short strokes he pushed his boxers just low enough on his hips to free his erection. He loved how malleable, pliant, Y/N was when she was sleeping. She rarely stirred when he needed to reposition her in her sleep. So with little disturbance he propped her knees how he’d like and positioned himself between her thighs. 

Harry ran the crown of his cock through Y/N’s wet folds. As he watched her coat him in the slick of her arousal he admired the way her labia wrapped so nicely around him. He could never get tired of seeing them connected in the most intimate of ways. 

With the head of his cock caught right at her entrance he placed his thumb against her clit, applying the lightest of pressure to where she was most sensitive. Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips slightly apart in her sleep as he slowly pressed in. While Harry was often far from gentle with her he always took his time when he took her like this, no matter how wet she was. 

Her warm heat sucked him in, gummy walls expanding easily to envelope him. The way she welcomed him so easily was part of why he’d edge her like this. Nothing compared to how she felt when she was worked up beyond relief. 

As his pelvis connected with hers he watched her face contort in sleepily unaware bliss. He loved to see how long it would take for her to wake up, given how pathetic she was before bed and how reactive she was in her sleep he guessed she’d be coming to shortly. But still he savored the brief moment of getting to watch her like this. 

Keeping himself buried to the hilt he rocked his hips slowly as he lazily stroked his thumb against her clit. He was testing the waters, seeing how long he could go without her waking up. Only after a few moments of grinding he could feel the tight muscles of her walls waking up, contracting and twitching, asking for more. 

After drawing back, almost all the way out, Harry snapped his hips forward. The sudden change of pace brought Y/N to awareness. An airy gasp rattled through her lungs and past her lips as her brows twitched and her lashes fluttered against her cheekbones. Harry did it again, slow retreat and rough thrust forward followed by another whimpery, gaspy, moan. He loved all the noises she made, sexual or not, but her breezy, docile, unattuned resonance were among his favorites. 

With a little more pressure against her clitoris Harry continued his more ravenous pace inside of her. He watched curiously as she stirred further, eyes twitchy, eyebrows pinched and cheeks flushed. He was just waiting for her drowsy eyes to pop open and for the moment of realization to wash across her features. 

With another few strokes the moment came after a gasping ‘oh’ fell from her lips. Harry peered down at her, an endearing and lopsided smile across his lips as he watched her eyes blink to awareness. She gazed up at him as realization of the pleasure he was giving her encompassed her body. 

No words needed to be shared as she sank into his ministrations. Her brows resumed their furrowed position and her eyes fell closed again. Knowing she was now awake Harry settled his hand so it was cradling her head, thumb resting at the apex of her jaw as he picked up his pace. 

Following an unnamed path Harry dotted kisses from her cheek to the elongated expanse of her neck where he eventually settled. His light stubble tickled her as he did so. As he left wet open mouthed kisses against the humid skin of her neck he could feel the warmth of her walls beginning to contract and spasm around him. As much as he’d love to pump her full of his cum and leave her on the fringe of her orgasm he never did when he took her like this. 

Pulling away from the nest of her neck, Harry gazed down at her as gaspy moans began to turn into babbling strings of his name and breathy curse words. He knew how bad she needed this release, he had left her for days after all. Wanting her to come hard Harry placed his large, strong hand against her throat, his fingers wrapping tenderly around where he’d just dotted kisses. 

‘Fuck’, the word fell from her lips as he applied just enough pressure for her to feel the restricted rush he knew she loved so much. Almost instantly he could feel the muscles in her legs contract as the initial waves of her pleasure began to course through her body. His pace picked up slightly as he angled himself just so to hit that one spot inside of her that always drove her mad. 

The sounds that came from where their bodies were connected were leud, wet and gushy as he drove into her. As the zenith of her orgasm surged through her Harry succumbed to the vigor of her own orgasm. Her viscous walls drew him in, clamping down and drawing him in. With the final cries of her orgasm Harry pumped his own into her. 

Removing his hand from her throat Harry slipped it beneath the curve of her ribs as he settled on top of her. His breath was tepid against her sticky skin as he settled on top of her and the room filled with the sound of their rough pants as the pair tried to regulate their breathing. 

No matter how filthy Harry and Y/N’s activities were, the moments after were always the sweetest and most compassionate. Y/N slinked the pads of her fingers into the damp curls that lay at the nape of Harry’s neck, tangling and twirling mindlessly in tandem with Harry’s stroking thumb against her ribs. 

Harry mumbled sweet ‘I love you’s and terms of praise and endearment as they came to their awake and satiated state. His cock softened inside of her and Y/N could feel his cum slowly beginning to leak out. That was their cue for Harry to get up. 

He raised from her body, kissing her softly on the way to being vertical. He trailed kisses across her chest and between her breasts as he slinked lower on the bed. Reaching her pussy he kissed her clit chastely, earning a quiet hiss from Y/N. 

Harry smiled to himself as he rested his head against her thigh, admiring the filthy mess that he’d made between her legs. ‘Gotta keep it in love’, he cooed as he gathered the spilled combination of their orgasms oozing from her on his finger before pressing it back into her. He would never grow old watching him spill from her holes. 

He stayed between her legs, watching, scooping and pressing his cum back into Y/N. She was absolutely spent, her orgasm having wrecked her, as she lazily played with the soft tendrils of Harry’s hair as he continued to admire her. Once satisfied that he’d gotten as much of his seed in her as he could he crawled back in bed beside her and wrapped his strong, lanky arms around her once again. 

‘Closer’ Y/N mumbled as he settled. Harry smiled to himself, knowing exactly what she meant and how to give it to her. Harry gripped her thigh, lifting her leg up just enough for him to slip back inside of her. Neither cared that Harry was soft, Y/N wasn’t even sure if she could handle him hard at the moment. It was the tenderness, the closeness of the act that they both longed for. And maybe Y/N secretly hoped that Harry would fuck her awake in the morning if they slept like this. He did owe her at least a handful of orgasms after the torture he’d put her through in the days leading up to this anyway. 

—

[harry-stylesarchives]

surprise - check-in for the fall

summary: y/n has something to tell harry but she just keeps getting interrupted

3.7k words

warnings: none really :) it’s fluffy, he’s sweet

“Maria, he’s going to kill me.” 

It’s spring. Warm. (Y/N) is working from home today, trying to finish some last minute designs that were supposed to be submitted days ago. She’s just been a little in her head and was luckily allowed an extension no problem. 

Harry has been especially busy at work for the last two weeks. Something important is happening so he’s been focused on making sure everything is in order for that. He’s told her about it several times but it’s sometimes hard to follow along with exactly what he does and he honestly doesn’t expect her to. 

He’ll be home around dinner, so she really only has an hour to finish up before he’ll be home. He’s making their meal as he often does. He enjoys cooking so much, he almost begs her to let him make everything she eats. He plans out every single one of their meals and packs them away for later so (Y/N) is never going hungry. He’s sweet in that way and so many others that she almost can’t believe he’s real and the Harry that she’s always known. He’s just so different.

Softer. Concerned about every single one of her moves. He’ll call her at least twice a day just to check on her and make sure she’s eaten and drank enough water. He rubs her feet and braids her hair. He kisses her cheeks and her forehead and tells her he loves her more than he’s ever loved anyone. 

Nearly a year has passed since they moved in together to what (Y/N) thinks will be their forever home. Every bit of it has been tailored to her liking; he made sure of that. Her opinion was asked for every design aspect in the home. The carpeting, wallpaper, and color schemes. The tiny, tiny details that make a house a home. He really did let her make it her own. But they didn’t have to do much to it because she liked it so much originally. 

She’s outside, phone glued to her ear with Maria trying to talk her down. 

“How can he be mad? It’s his fault!” Maria laughed, thankfully trying to keep the conversation lighthearted when (Y/N) felt like everything was falling apart all at once. 

“You’re right, it is his fault. God, it just—it all makes sense now,” Her face fell into her hand for a second and she sighed. “He was just talking about traveling on and off for like…the next six months. I don’t think he was planning for this to happen.” 

“Yeah, but he’s been talking about this type of thing since you got back together. Mad is the last thing he’ll be.” Maria made it sound so easy, something you brush under the rug and forget about. But this was real and it would change their lives and relationship forever. 

(Y/N) is probably exaggerating a smidge but she was pretty sure that Harry wouldn’t be too pleased with the timing. They were supposed to do a lot of traveling in the coming months. They could both take their work on the road and Harry still had many places to show her. She’s been practically nowhere outside of the country and he wanted to change that.

He was in the process of making an itinerary but this really is going to throw a wrench in those plans.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll…talk to him when he gets home.”

Their call ended with a good luck and a I’m going to need it before (Y/N) got back to work. She wanted to finish the work she was doing before she thought too hard about what was currently going on. But Harry got home earlier than she expected and all (Y/N) could do was try her hardest to pretend like she wasn’t keeping something from him. 

Normally, she’s very communicative and will tell him if anything is bothering her or otherwise. But for some reason, her mouth is unwilling to move to say those two words that will turn their world upside down. 

“Missed you so much today. Come here.” He found her at the table in the backyard, forcing a comfortable smile on her face. His arms came around her and he squeezed, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her nose. 

“Hi. You’re home early.” It was only by about thirty minutes but it was still sooner than she had been anticipating him. 

“A little. Decided to call it. I’m done looking at numbers tonight,” He tapped her chin and smiled. “I’m gonna change and start dinner. You can join me if you want.” 

Somehow, (Y/N) made it through dinner without blurting it out. And thankfully, he made something that didn’t make her stomach churn. That would’ve been hard to explain. 

He followed her up to bed early. To shower and just lay next to each other before finding sleep. It was early but she was exhausted and completely ready to turn in for the night. They brushed their teeth together and he pulled one of his tee shirts over her head before they climbed into bed. 

“How’s the trip planning going?” (Y/N) didn’t want to ask but she wanted to say something other than stare at him like he terrified her. The trip was a nice idea in theory and he was excited about it but little did he know, it probably wouldn’t be happening. 

“Great! I was thinking we could stay in London for a couple weeks since you’ve never been and then head over to Europe and run around for a bit. But it’s just us two so we can really do it however you want.” 

Of course he would say something like that. It’s just us two so—he made it so hard. 

“Right. Yeah. Sounds great. Like you said.” A forced smile was all it took for him to catch on to her hesitations. 

He was just about to reach over to turn the lamp off but he stopped, looking at her confused. She felt herself panic slightly. She’s not doing a good job at acting normal but honestly how could she? 

“Goodnight, Harry.” She was just about to turn her head so she could get comfortable, but he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She hoped she wasn’t giving herself away. She knows she’s a nervous wreck and she doesn’t want it to be obvious but it’s proving to be more difficult than she thought it’d be. 

“Don’t know. You’re quiet tonight,” He looked her over before shaking his head. “If you’re sure. Okay. Goodnight, (Y/N). Love you.” 

“I love you too.” Laying her head down, she sighed, hoping he wasn’t quite catching onto her anxiousness. She just didn’t know what to do and she didn’t want to go off in a panic when she really didn’t need to. And she didn’t want to freak Harry out either. 

He would find out sooner or later and she would rather be the one that tells him. But now it’s just about how.

****

Becca called one day around lunchtime. 

Apparently, Harry was asking her all these cryptic questions and not giving very many answers so Becca phoned when she went across the street to pick up his lunch. 

“He’s like…asking me if I know something and then getting testy when I ask about what. Please tell me he isn’t so clueless with you,” Becca complained, pausing for a second to thank someone on the other side of the phone. “When are you planning on putting him out of his misery?” 

“Not sure. I’m still…in shock, I think. And for some reason I’m expecting the worst from him when I know he’s different. I just, I’m nervous and I want this to be perfect, you know? A good surprise, not a dreadful one.” In her right mind, she knows that Harry will be overjoyed and enthusiastic for every little step to come but (Y/N) isn’t so sure she is. 

Of course, she wanted this just as much as he did but now that it’s here, she feels unprepared. 

“Right. And I think we all know how he’s going to react, (Y/N). He loves you so much, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so obsessed with someone else. I mean, he calls you every hour on the hour most days. Can’t believe you’re not annoyed by now. I know I would be.” 

And that’s just the part. He annoys her the least anyone has ever. Everything he does is cute and heartwarming and she can only hope that he thinks the same of her. That he knows she loves him deeply and truly. Just the way he is, nothing more and nothing less. 

“Yeah. I’d do anything for him.” 

“Yeah? So tell him. Make his day.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Goodness, (Y/N). That poor boy.” 

Becca had to go when Harry was paging her away to do some filing. She groaned, cursing to herself before giving that as an explanation. Harry texted her a second later, telling her how much he couldn’t wait to see her when he got home. She sent him the same sentiment and went back to  her laptop. 

Going about the how would be the most difficult part. She doesn’t want to just say it. She wanted to present it, give him a second to think about it and really realize their new reality. And that would fill her with so much reassurance because she knows he wants this too and hearing him say it will take such a weight from her shoulders. 

Her first idea was to make a cake. Something small that she could whip up in the kitchen before he got home. A chocolate cake (his favorite) with chocolate icing. He would probably be confused about her timing but that just made it so much better. 

Except, he got home early again. Right in the middle of the cake cooling, so she didn’t even have a chance to ice it and use the blue and pink piping frosting she picked up on her quick lunch break. Instead, she tossed the cake and tried to calm the thrumming of her heart. He came in so unexpectedly that she didn’t have time to do something rational like put the cake safely away in the fridge so it ended up in the bin. 

Harry looked at her strangely for a moment before opening his arms and walking towards her, saying something about how he was so glad to be home. And all she could do was hug him back and frown into his shoulder. She would have to think of another way to do it. 

Her next idea was a simple card. It was a Saturday morning and Harry was gone golfing with a couple coworkers, so now really was her chance. 

She grabbed the box that she hid under the bathroom sink and skimmed over the back. She’s only ever used one and this one seems much more advanced than what Maria and Becca rushed over to her nearly three weeks ago. 

But considering how much luck she’s had this past week, she should have known that this would go over just like that. A false negative which is apparently more common than false positives and can happen for so many reasons that she didn’t bother looking into before phoning her doctor and having them repeat six times over that the blood test results she got last week were more than enough to tell her what she already knew and the test was probably just a one off. 

Nine weeks in and Harry has no idea. None. Not even a hint. Unless he’s giving her the time and space to tell him herself. But she knows Harry. He would lose his mind if he knew and there would be no way for him to keep that under wraps just so she could come to him first. 

The test was tossed the same way the cake went. Harry got home from golfing and she wasn’t paying too close attention to the time, so he was walking up the stairs to find her as she was cursing the name of the test company. She feels like writing a letter. For the price she paid, that thing should be telling her lottery numbers or at least the gender of her baby. 

He kissed her, unaware of the negative test behind her back. Somehow, she remained poised and managed to get him to shower while she made him something for lunch. That’s when she was able to dispose of the second most disappointing thing that has ever happened to her.

A few days later when (Y/N) was able to get out and about, she decided a walk around the park near their house would be fine. Maybe give her some clarity. And it did. 

She asked herself why it was so important to make this news ceremonious. It was something to celebrate and it would come as a surprise, but there was no reason to jump through hoops just to tell Harry. If she just tells him, he’ll be just as excited as he would be if she planned a firework display spelling out exactly what she’s been wanting to say for weeks. The message is way more important than the delivery and that was the decision she made right when she accidentally stepped off the paved path into the grass and rolled her ankle. 

She didn’t fall, not exactly, but she caught herself on her hands before she really took a spill. And then her ankle started throbbing. 

So, she did the responsible thing and limped to the curb and winced to herself as she waited for the uber she called. Any weight on her ankle stung and she knew she probably did something a little more than just roll her ankle because of the pain she felt. 

Nonetheless, she was in the emergency room with a styrofoam cup of iced water not long after. Her ankle had been scanned and she was  waiting for the doctor to come give her final remarks when a nurse came in, smiling politely. 

“You have a very eager visitor in the waiting room. Is it okay if I let him back?” 

“Uh…a visitor? Who?” 

“Well, it’s required that your emergency contact is called before you can leave the ER. Just so you have a way to get home after we’re done here. You can’t possibly drive home with your ankle sprained.” She laughed, waving (Y/N) off like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

A sprain. Not bad for the stinging she was feeling before her ankle was wrapped nicely and propped up on a pillow. 

“And who did you call?” In her head, she’s praying that it was her dad they called. He is listed somewhere but it honestly wouldn’t make sense because he doesn’t even live in the city. It was a dumb question, but (Y/N) is still trying to outrun her rationale . 

“Your husband.” 

“My husband?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Why, is that not okay? Are you safe at home?” She suddenly turned very serious, running her eyes all over her, accessing her for signs that she wasn’t.

“No—wait. Yes, I’m safe at home, I just—” It’s over. Right when she was about to get it over with. “Send him back.” Rubbing her hands over her face, she ignored the nurse’s concerned look before she left the room. 

Harry appeared, less than enthused, with his hair a little messier than it was this morning when he left. His expression told her that she better start talking before he did or it probably wouldn’t go well. 

“Hi.” 

“What do you mean, hi? (Y/N). Why didn’t you call me? I was worried sick when the fucking hospital of all places called me. Now what happened?” He was at her side now, holding both of her hands, searching all over her just like the nurse did moments ago. 

(Y/N) explained that she was in the park and stepped off the pavement resulting in her sore ankle. Harry looked devastated by her short and very boring story about her ankle. He was doting on her like something much more serious happened but she didn’t mind it at all. She needed it after how long she had to sit in the waiting room by herself. 

“My poor baby. Do you need anything? More water? I’ll carry you to the car and don’t even think about lifting a finger when you get home. I’ll take care of everything.” He pet her head and kissed her cheek. While that sounded fantastic and this sprained ankle would definitely get her out of doing her allotted chore of the dishes each night, she had bigger news to tell him that she was thinking the hospital already did, but apparently, she still had time to tell him herself. 

“It’s just a sprain. Anyway, I think we need to talk—”

Interrupted for the fourth and final time. She should just give up at this point and wait for him to notice her swelling belly when it finally gets to that point. Maybe then she’ll actually be able to tell him. 

“Misses Styles, good news,” The doctor entered, introducing herself to Harry quickly before getting back to the reason she even came into the room. “Your baby is fine and your ankle is only sprained. So, I’d say just keep off of it and ice it periodically. You can take something over the counter for pain relief.” 

(Y/N) was just about to thank the doctor and usher her out of the room, hopefully to get her discharge papers, but apparently, Harry was in the mood to listen to every tiny little thing everyone said today. 

“I’m sorry—what? What about a baby? She’s not—” He stopped himself. Turning to (Y/N), his eyes went wide before he turned back to the doctor. “No.”

The doctor excused herself when Harry looked back at her for an explanation. 

All she could manage was one measly word: “Surprise.” 

“You—” He took a step back in shock, letting her hand drop from his. “(Y/N), I…I don’t know what to say.” His hand went through his hair and he pushed out a deep breath. 

“I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to surprise you too, so I kind of…”

“You had to sprain your ankle to tell me you’re pregnant.” 

“Hm. Yeah. Pretty much.” 

Harry wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, as best he could since she was still seated in the hospital bed. Her arms hurried to wrap around his neck and squeeze him. 

“That’s why you’ve been so jumpy, hm? Keeping secrets from me now?”

“I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.” He pulled back, a confused look on his face. 

“Why would I ever be disappointed? This is great news. I’m so happy.” He held her hands instead, squeezing. 

“You were planning all these trips and you were so excited and this kind of…things will be different soon.” They could probably still go on the trip but it won’t just be them they have to worry about for too much longer. And that changes things entirely. 

“And that’s okay. I could never be disappointed, (Y/N), I want this with you. All of it? Okay?” 

“Okay. Good, I just…I know. I want this with you too.” It had been something she’d been thinking about since forever. Since before she met Harry. But now that they’re married and their relationship is secure and thriving and exactly how she pictured it’d be, there seems like no better time than now for a baby. 

He leaned to kiss her a few times. “You’re so, so pretty. You’re going to be a great mummy, you know.” 

“You’re going to be a great dad, Harry. I mean it.” She kissed him again, two more times, and they both pulled away so he could look down at her stomach that hasn’t changed much yet, in her opinion. 

“How far?” 

“Ten weeks. Almost.” 

“Ten? Christ, (Y/N). How long did you know?” 

She knew he would ask that sooner or later. 

“About…three,” He shot her a look. “You were gone in New York and I was so sick I didn’t know what was happening and then I just…took a test. With Maria and Becca’s help.” 

“How could Becca keep that a secret from me? She can’t keep anything like that a secret.” He muttered, staring off for a second, probably thinking over all the signs he missed in the last few weeks. There had been quite a few but (Y/N) just can’t be more relieved that he knows now. 

“It’s okay. You know now and we’re going to be parents.” She couldn’t help the smile she had. It hurt her cheeks. Just thinking about it made her feel so grateful for everything. Especially Harry. After all they’ve been through, it couldn’t have turned out any better. 

“Oh, fuck. That’s right, right? Parents. I can’t wait. I love you so, so much.” His hand brushed over her stomach once before just staying there.

“I love you so much, Harry. I can’t imagine this with anyone else.” 

“You better not be. We’re like, married and all that.” 

“I was joking.” She deadpanned, running her hand down over his wrist as he felt over her stomach like he was going to actually feel something. 

The doctor came back in the middle of Harry trying to push her shirt up so he could feel the skin underneath, but she was adamant on telling him that they could do that as soon as she was released. She apologized to the doctor before she was able to sign herself out and be on her way. 

“Did you eat enough today?” 

“What is enough exactly?” 

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” He kept her arm tight around her waist, acting as a crutch when she probably really didn’t need once. 

“Maybe a little. Why? Are you going to watch me eat from now on?” She laughed, but secretly knew he probably would be watching her eat now. Just to make sure she’s eating well and enough. 

“Great idea. Let’s get something in you, you look like you’re withering away,” He shut her in the car and hurried to his side. Before he reached to start the car, he turned to her, smiling widely. “I’m so excited.” 

“I’m excited too, Harry.” She grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. 

Now they can be just as excited, together. 

****

the long awaited check-in!!! i hope you liked this one!!! <3

tags: @vamprry @loverofhsandallthings1d @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @me-undiscovered @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @satellitelh @daphnesutton @opheliaofficial07 @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @buckyssbestgirl @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @slut-for-artists @in-omn1a-paratus @lunaharrygurl @uncassettodiricordi @sassamanda77 @adore-you-hs2 @voniikg @adore-you-hs2 @m0mmyfromtarget @savannahwendel @harryshoneybee @illicitverstappen @stylestarkey @unknownkii

[harry-stylesarchives]

This is so niche… but can you do a real quick blurb of influencer Y/N recording a video opening up a blind box with Harry? I keep thinking about what his reaction would be.

I laughed out loud when I read this request actually because I am addicted to watching people open them… I think you’re in my brain. I love writing mundane little things like this, it’s a break for my mind so thank you for the strange but fun request!

Check out our Patreon for early access, 300+ exclusive writings and series and 3 updates a week

Warnings- gambling??? Lmao

“S’like gambling, if you really think about it.”

His hands fumbled with the colorful box, brows furrowed as he looked at the options. There were a lot, actually. More than he’d anticipated.

Y/N choked slightly on her coffee (the iced shaken espresso with two pumps brown sugar and two pumps vanilla, light ice and extra dairy free cold foam, thank you very much) as she turned to look at him. Someone was going to clip that, but she couldn’t really focus on that right now. “What?”

“It’s like gambling. You’re buying the box not knowing what you’re going t’get. You could hate it, really, and you’d be shit out of luck because you can’t go and return it.” There was a pause before he turned to look at her. “Right? That’s a shit move.”

“Actually… I’m not sure.”

Y/N hadn’t even thought about that. She had occasionally done videos unboxing them once the fear of missing out had hit her but she tried not to be excessive- excessive consumerism wasn’t exactly the thing she was going for- but the idea of a return had never came to her. This was a requested thing for them to do. “I have never looked up the return policy but I’m sure you can’t.”

“Well, m’positive there are plenty of people unhappy with their purchases but I’m also assuming that they do it for the luck of the draw.” Harry squinted at the options again. “This is why I don’t gamble.”

Y/N snorted, putting her coffee into the cupholder before lifting up her own box. They’d gotten these little keychain ones, cats with weirdly human faces that looked like they were crying.

“And why are they crying?” Harry asked, turning to Y/N like she had the answer.

“I don’t know. You’re making me question things.” Her laugh was light as she studied the options on the side along with him. They each had their own. “You’ve got to say which one you want and which one you absolutely don’t want.”

“Why? That feels like M’just jinxing myself.”

“Because it builds anticipation! You’re full of questions today.” Y/N rolled her eyes lightheartedly, watching his lips pout out a little bit.

If she did PDA on her channel, she would leave the kiss she left on them in. But she didn’t, so they’d have to wonder.

“Fine, I’ll say first.” She sighed, watching him wipe a little of her lip gloss from the corner of his lips. “I want… the purple one is cute. So is the brown and white… or the pink.” To be honest she’d probably be okay with any of them. They were all cute. “I don’t really want the plain white one, the blue, or the camo.”

Harry nodded, looking a bit too serious at her preferences. She should have known he would take it very seriously because that’s just the way he was, but it was still stupidly endearing to watch.

“Okay. I think we work quite well as a couple, Y’know, because the ones y’don’t want, those are my choices.” He found that to be satisfying, apparently.

“Hm. That’ll work if we both get something we don’t want. But if you get the pink one, you’re gonna hand it over.” She was mostly joking but also, not really. What Harry was going to do with a giant fuzzy key chain of a cat with a human cartoon face, she wasn’t sure. Surely not on his keys.

“We will see.” He mumbled cryptically. “Who first?”

“You. You’re very weirdly into this and I didn’t expect it, so we’ll pop your cherry here.”

“Ironic considering I popped yours.” He mumbled under his breath, making her gasp.

“You shithead! M’gonna have to edit that out.” She squeaked, glaring momentarily before Harry let out a snicker.

“Fine, fine. Let me do this.” He sighed, shaking the box like he could predict which one was in there. “How do I do this again?”

Y/N showed him the strip of cardboard meant for easier opening, letting him take a deep breath before he slowly pulled it open. “Don’t look! They put a card in there and you’ll be able to see. Just take the bag out.”

Harry pulled the plastic bag out and let the box tumble to the floor, feeling around for a moment before he found the indent to open it. “Alright. Do I do it now?”

“Yes, close your eyes and open it towards the camera you dork.” The giggle was hard to stop as she watched him dramatically face it towards her lens, slowly ripping the bag open. She kept her sounds to herself as she saw fuzzy purple fur appear on the screen.

“Okay, I open now?”

“Yes, Harry. You can open your eyes.”

It was hilarious, actually, watching his face turn from intrigued to irritated. A groan left his mouth as he pulled the thing out of the bag, a scowl on his face as he held the keychain like it had personally wronged him.

“You’ve got t’be kidding me.”

“It’s cute!” Y/N giggled, watching him spin it around to look it in the face. His slight wince had her laughing louder before he placed it gently in her lap, crossing his arms.

“This is why I don’t got to casinos anymore.” He grumbled, leaning back against the seat

“You don’t go to casinos because you lost a large sum of money betting on red.”

“You’re rubbing salt in the wound, my love. Very mean. This is meant to be serious. I’ve just lost!”

“You didn’t lose, Harry.” Y/N felt her face flush from the giggles escaping her. “It’s a keychain. I promise, it isn’t serious.” Her hand rubbed his bicep, though she did find it very entertaining as his glare returned to the purple keychain sat on her thigh.

“Do yours now, please. At least you already have the purple one, so you’ve got one you wanted.”

“It’s okay baby.” She saw his lips curl up in a smile he attempted to hold back. While he wasn’t huge on being on camera, he did it for her anyways and played it up so she could get what she needed. He wasn’t faking at all, but turning it up a notch.

“Go on then, cruel woman. Let’s see what you get.”

Y/N followed the same steps he did, closing her eyes as she let the box fall onto the other side of her lap and faced the bag towards the camera as she ripped it open, only to peek an eye open before Harry opened his eyes again (why he closed them, she didn’t know, but she learned not to ask questions.)

It was the camo one.

“Guess it’s yours. Or maybe I get two, because I’m such cruel woman.”

“You know I didn’t mean that, my darling.” He cooed, gently plucking it from her hands. “Thank you. These aren’t too bad, I think. But the real question now… is where do I put this thing?”

[harry-stylesarchives]

Oral hygiene | H.S

Boyfriendrry | Smutish | One shot | Masterlist | Yours

A/N: This ones a little crude 😅

"So we've done all of that—all those filthy, incredible, intimate things—but sharing a toothbrush is where you cross the line?" he asks, a mix of genuine bewilderment and amused affection in his expression. "That's your boundary? Dental hygiene?"

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

The London morning is quiet, sunlight filtering through the expensive blinds of their shared bedroom. Outside, the city is already bustling with activity, but within the walls of their stylish townhouse, Y/N and Harry exist in their own private universe. The day is just beginning, unhurried and comfortable in the way that only established couples truly understand.

Y/N stretches languidly in their king-sized bed, her golden-brown hair fanned out across the pillow as she slowly wakes. The space beside her is empty but still warm, the sheets carrying Harry's distinctive scent. A mix of expensive cologne, minty shampoo, and something uniquely him. The sound of the shower running has stopped, replaced now by muffled movements from their en-suite bathroom.

She allows herself a few more moments of peaceful half-sleep before finally swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Wearing only one of Harry's vintage t-shirts that falls to mid-thigh, she pads across the plush carpet toward the bathroom, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

The bathroom door is ajar, steam still clinging to the mirrors and glass shower enclosure. Harry has clearly just finished his shower, evidenced by the lingering humidity and the damp towel slung low on his hips as he stands at the sink, running a hand through his wet curls. His tattooed torso is still glistening with water droplets, muscles defined in the soft bathroom lighting.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greets, catching her eye in the mirror and flashing that disarming smile that still makes her heart skip even after nearly two years together. "Thought you'd sleep through breakfast at this rate."

Y/N smiles back, moving to stand beside him at the double vanity. "Some of us don’t have early studio sessions scheduled," she teases, reaching for her toothbrush. "Not all of us are international pop stars with demanding schedules."

"Poor baby," Harry retorts with a playful smirk, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple before moving toward the door. "I'll put the kettle on."

Y/N nods absently, focused now on the morning ritual of brushing her teeth. She reaches for her toothbrush, a distinctive pale blue one that sits next to Harry's green one in the holder, and immediately notices something off. The bristles are damp. Not just morning-humidity damp, but recently-used wet.

She stares at it for a moment, her sleepy brain processing the implications. There's only one explanation: Harry used her toothbrush. Her personal toothbrush that goes in her mouth. The same toothbrush that she's about to put in her own mouth.

"HARRY!" she calls out, voice echoing off the marble tiles.

There's a moment of silence before she hears his footsteps returning, his expression curious as he appears in the doorway, towel still hanging precariously from his hips.

"Everything alright, love?" he asks, eyebrows raised at her apparent distress.

Y/N holds up her toothbrush accusingly. "Did you use my toothbrush?"

Harry looks at the toothbrush, then back at her face, seeming genuinely confused by her tone. "Yeah? Mine's frayed at the edges and I forgot to pick up a new one yesterday. Is that a problem?"

"Is that a—" Y/N breaks off, staring at him incredulously. "Yes, it's a problem! That's disgusting, Harry!"

Harry's confusion only deepens, a bemused smile playing at his lips as if he's waiting for the punchline to a joke he doesn't understand.

"Disgusting?" he repeats, clearly not seeing the issue. "It's just a toothbrush, babe."

"It's not 'just a toothbrush'," Y/N insists, waving it for emphasis. "It's MY toothbrush. The one that goes in MY mouth. With MY germs on it. Not yours!"

Harry leans against the doorframe, crossing his tattooed arms over his bare chest, his expression now somewhere between amused and perplexed.

"Let me get this straight," he says slowly, a hint of a smirk forming. "You're upset because I used your toothbrush? The same toothbrush that cleans the same mouth that I kiss multiple times a day?"

Y/N makes a frustrated sound. "That's completely different! Kissing is... kissing. This is... this is oral hygiene!"

"Oral hygiene," Harry repeats, now openly grinning at what he clearly perceives as an irrational reaction. "Right. Because that's where we draw the line on sharing bodily fluids? At dental care?"

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean—" Y/N splutters, knowing she sounds illogical but unable to articulate why this feels like such a violation. "It's just gross, okay? People don't share toothbrushes!"

Harry pushes off from the doorframe, taking a step toward her, his eyes now gleaming with mischief and something darker, more predatory.

"People don't share toothbrushes," he echoes, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly register that never fails to send shivers down her spine. "But they do share everything else, is that it?"

Y/N backs up slightly as he advances, the small of her back bumping against the cool marble counter. "That's not what I'm saying—"

"No?" Harry challenges, now directly in front of her, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his skin and smell the mint on his breath, from her toothbrush, she realizes with renewed indignation. "Because it sounds like you're saying that sharing a toothbrush crosses some line that apparently everything else we do doesn't."

Before she can formulate a response, Harry moves with surprising speed. In one fluid motion, he hooks an arm around her waist and spins her away from the counter. The next thing Y/N knows, she's on her back on the plush bathroom rug, Harry hovering over her, his towel miraculously still clinging to his hips despite the sudden movement.

"Harry!" she gasps, more startled than genuinely upset. "What are you—"

"Let me get this straight," he interrupts, his voice a low rumble as he pins her wrists gently but firmly above her head with one large hand. "You're disgusted by sharing a toothbrush with me."

His free hand trails leisurely down her side, slipping under the hem of the oversized t-shirt to rest warm against her bare hip.

"The same me," he continues, his green eyes locked on hers with an intensity that makes her breath catch, "whose tongue has been down your throat more times than I can count."

Y/N feels her face flush, partly from embarrassment at the crude statement, partly from the way his body is pressing against hers.

"That's different," she insists weakly.

"Is it?" Harry challenges, his fingers now tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of her hip. "The same me whose cock you had in your mouth last night? And the night before that? And pretty much every night since we moved in together?"

Y/N's blush deepens, her body betraying her with a small shiver despite her continued indignation.

"Harry, that's not—"

"The same me," he presses on relentlessly, his voice dropping even lower as his hand slides further up under her shirt, "who's had his face buried between your thighs, tasting every inch of you? Who's had his fingers inside you, his tongue inside you?"

His hand reaches her breast now, thumb brushing deliberately over her nipple, which immediately hardens at his touch.

"The same me who's fucked you in every room of this house, on every surface, in positions that would make a yoga instructor blush?"

Y/N tries to maintain her outrage, but it's increasingly difficult with Harry's body pinning her to the floor, his words and touch sending heat pooling low in her belly.

"That's... that's completely different," she manages, though her voice lacks conviction.

"How?" Harry asks, genuinely curious even as he continues his sensual assault, his hand moving to her other breast, giving it the same teasing attention. "How is any of that less intimate than using your toothbrush?"

When Y/N doesn't immediately answer, Harry leans down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispers:

"Let's review, shall we? You've swallowed my cum more times than I can count. You've let me fuck you in ways that would make pornstars blush. You've begged me to come on your tits, your face, your ass. You've had my fingers in your mouth right after they've been inside you."

Each crude statement is punctuated by a deliberate touch or subtle shift of his hips against hers, making it increasingly difficult for Y/N to remember why she was upset in the first place.

"Last week," Harry continues, his voice a sinful drawl, "you were on your knees in the kitchen, my cock down your throat, begging me to pull your hair harder. The week before that, you came three times with my face between your legs, grinding against my mouth like your life depended on it."

He releases her wrists now, confident that she won't try to escape, and uses his newly freed hand to tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"So we've done all of that—all those filthy, incredible, intimate things—but sharing a toothbrush is where you cross the line?" he asks, a mix of genuine bewilderment and amused affection in his expression. "That's your boundary? Dental hygiene?"

Put that way, with Harry's solid weight pressing her into the bathroom floor and his explicit reminders of their extremely active sex life ringing in her ears, Y/N can't help but see the absurdity of her reaction. A reluctant laugh bubbles up from her chest.

"When you put it like that, it does sound a bit ridiculous," she admits, her initial disgust fading in the face of Harry's logic—crude as it may be.

Harry grins triumphantly, clearly pleased that his point has landed. "More than a bit, I'd say."

"But it's still gross," Y/N insists, though she's smiling now too. "It's just... different."

"Different how?" Harry challenges, shifting his weight so he's straddling her properly now, his towel dangerously close to coming completely undone.

Y/N tries to articulate the distinction that still feels important, despite how silly it might seem. "I don't know, it's just... kissing and sex are supposed to be shared experiences. Toothbrushes aren't. It's like... it's like using someone else's deodorant or something. It's personal."

Harry considers this for a moment, head tilted thoughtfully. "So you'd rather have my tongue in your pussy than on your toothbrush? Is that what you're saying?"

The crude question startles another laugh out of Y/N. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying, you animal."

Harry laughs too, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning down to press a kiss to her lips.

"You're absolutely ridiculous," he murmurs against her mouth. "But if it bothers you that much, I'll buy a new toothbrush today. A whole pack of them, just to be safe."

"Thank you," Y/N says primly, trying to maintain some dignity despite being pinned to the bathroom floor by a nearly-naked Harry. "That's all I ask."

"Mmhmm," Harry hums skeptically, shifting his hips in a way that makes it very clear exactly how this conversation has affected him, despite the seemingly non-sexual topic. "And what about this situation? Any objections to where this is headed?"

Y/N pretends to consider, even as her body arches instinctively toward his. "Well, I haven't brushed my teeth yet, so..."

Harry's eyes darken with desire, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. "I think I can work around that particular problem."

In one smooth motion, he slides down her body, pushing the oversized t-shirt up as he goes, his intentions unmistakable as he settles between her thighs.

"After all," he murmurs, his breath hot against her bare skin, "we've already established that I'm not particularly concerned with oral hygiene."

Y/N laughs, the sound quickly transforming into a gasp as Harry's mouth finds its target with practiced precision.

"I'm still getting a new toothbrush," she manages to say, even as her fingers tangle in his damp curls, urging him closer.

Harry pauses just long enough to look up at her, his green eyes gleaming with mischief and desire. "Whatever you say, love. Now, if you don't mind, I'd rather put my mouth to better use than arguing about toothbrushes."

And as he proceeds to do exactly that, Y/N decides that maybe, just maybe, there are more important things to worry about than shared dental hygiene. Though she's definitely buying separate toothbrushes later. Some boundaries, ridiculous as they might seem, are still worth maintaining.

Even if other, far more intimate boundaries were enthusiastically crossed on the bathroom floor that morning, rendering the toothbrush debate rather moot in comparison.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

Harry and Y/N stroll through the store with the easy familiarity of a couple who've settled into domestic life, despite Harry's celebrity status. He's dressed casually but expensively in black jeans and a vintage band t-shirt, a beanie pulled low over his curls and sunglasses perched on his nose in his standard attempt at incognito, an effort that rarely succeeds but he persists with anyway. 

Y/N walks beside him in high-waisted jeans and a cropped sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that still makes Harry glance at her every few seconds, as though confirming she's really there.

Their shopping cart is already half-filled with an eclectic mix that speaks to their shared life. Harry's preferred organic teas and protein powder, Y/N's favorite snacks, fresh ingredients for the dinner recipes they've planned for the week, a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine that Harry insisted on, and the fancy bath bombs Y/N pretends not to be obsessed with but Harry buys anyway.

As they round the corner into the personal care aisle, Harry dramatically steers the cart toward the oral hygiene section, making a show of it after their morning's...discussion.

"Right then," he announces with exaggerated seriousness, scanning the display of toothbrushes. "Time to solve this critical household crisis."

Y/N rolls her eyes but can't suppress her smile. "You're never going to let this go, are you?"

"Never," Harry confirms cheerfully, picking up various toothbrush options and examining them with comical intensity. "This is clearly a matter of utmost importance to our relationship. More important than trust, communication, or sexual compatibility."

"Shut up," Y/N laughs, bumping his shoulder with hers. "I've already admitted it was a slight overreaction."

"Slight?" Harry challenges, raising an eyebrow above his sunglasses. "You looked at me like I'd committed a war crime."

"Because you had," she retorts, though her eyes are sparkling with amusement. "Against dental hygiene."

Harry chuckles, reaching for a package of toothbrushes. "Well, we can't have that. What about these?"

He holds up a standard two-pack of toothbrushes, but Y/N shakes her head.

"Those bristles are too hard. They're bad for your gums."

Harry puts them back, looking amused. "You've put thought into this."

"Some of us care about proper dental care," she says primly, the morning's absurdity now a shared joke between them.

After a few more minutes of deliberation, Harry reaches for an eight-pack of premium toothbrushes, the kind with ergonomic handles and specialized bristles for optimal cleaning. He holds them up for Y/N's inspection.

"How about these? Eight should last us a while."

Y/N looks at the large package, then back at Harry with a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. She can't resist the opportunity to tease him.

"Why so many?" she asks innocently, then adds with a playful smirk, "For when your hoes spend the night?"

The joke lands exactly as intended. Harry's expression shifts from casual to surprised, then settles into something between amusement and exaggerated offense. His eyebrows shoot up above his sunglasses as he registers her teasing jab.

For a moment, he just stares at her, then looks down at the package of toothbrushes in his hand. With theatrical seriousness, he begins counting them with his fingers, as if doing complex mental calculations. One, two, three... all the way to eight, his brow furrowed in concentration.

After this elaborate show, he solemnly shakes his head, looking back at Y/N with perfect deadpan delivery.

"No, not enough."

Y/N blinks, not expecting this response. She thought he'd laugh or playfully scold her for the joke, not agree with it. Her eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Not enough what?" she asks with raised brows, a hint of genuine confusion in her voice despite knowing he's playing along with her joke.

Harry maintains his serious expression for one more beat before the corner of his mouth quirks up in that familiar, mischievous way that never fails to make her heart skip.

"Not enough for my hoes," he replies with casual nonchalance, as if discussing the weather or what to have for dinner. "I'm quite popular, you know. International pop star and all that. The logistics are a nightmare."

There's a split second of silence before Y/N bursts out laughing, the sound bright and genuine in the sterile store environment. A few nearby shoppers glance their way, but neither of them notice.

"You're impossible," she manages through her laughter, shaking her head at his ridiculous response.

Harry grins, clearly pleased with himself for turning her joke back on her. "I'm practical. Have to be prepared. Though I suppose we could always do what those fancy hotels do. Individually wrapped toothbrushes for each guest. Might need to dedicate an entire drawer in the bathroom, though."

"Stop," Y/N gasps, still laughing. "People are staring."

"Let them stare," Harry says with a shrug, though he does lower his voice slightly. "They're just jealous of my thriving hoe rotation system. Very efficient, color-coded and everything. Monday hoes, Tuesday hoes..."

Y/N playfully swats at his arm, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You don't even have time for that many hoes. Your schedule is already packed with recording sessions and promo."

"Ah, see, that's where you're wrong," Harry counters, leaning in conspiratorially. "Those aren't actually recording sessions. That's just what I tell you. Really, I'm running a very sophisticated hoe operation. Very high-end, exclusive membership."

"Is that right?" Y/N plays along, crossing her arms and trying to look stern despite her smile. "And where do I fit into this operation?"

Harry considers this for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"You," he says finally, his voice dropping lower as he steps closer to her, "are the only one who gets her own toothbrush. The rest have to share."

The absurdity of the statement sends Y/N into another fit of giggles. "That's disgusting! And completely contradicts your whole argument from this morning about sharing toothbrushes not being a big deal!"

Harry laughs too, dropping the facade. "What can I say? You've convinced me. Toothbrush sharing is clearly the most intimate act possible. More intimate than all that filthy stuff I reminded you about this morning."

His voice has taken on that suggestive quality that immediately brings heat to Y/N's cheeks as memories of their bathroom floor activities flash through her mind.

"Speaking of which," Harry continues, his eyes darkening behind his sunglasses as he leans in to whisper in her ear, "I think we left something unfinished this morning. You got yours, but I didn't get mine."

Y/N feels a shiver run down her spine at his words and the warm brush of his breath against her skin. Even after all their time together, his ability to shift the atmosphere between them in an instant still takes her breath away.

"Harry," she murmurs, glancing around the store, "we're in public."

"I'm aware," he replies with a smirk, pulling back slightly but staying close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his body. "I'm just saying, we should probably hurry up with this shopping. Important matters to attend to at home."

Y/N shakes her head, but she can't deny the flutter of anticipation his words trigger. "You're insatiable."

"Only for you," Harry counters, and despite the playful context, there's a sincerity in his voice that makes her heart swell.

He tosses the eight-pack of toothbrushes into their cart, then as an afterthought, grabs a second pack and adds it as well.

When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs innocently. "Just in case. You never know when you might need a spare."

"Sixteen toothbrushes?" she questions, amused. "Even your imaginary hoes don't need that many."

Harry's expression turns serious for a moment, though his eyes remain playful behind his sunglasses.

"You know there aren't any, right?" he says quietly, a hint of vulnerability beneath the joke. "Not even one. Just you."

The simple statement, delivered in the middle of a ridiculous conversation about toothbrushes in a grocery store aisle, hits Y/N with unexpected force. It's so quintessentially Harry

"I know," she says softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Just like you know I'm not actually worried about you having hoes."

Harry interlaces their fingers, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "Good. Because the only woman I want using my toothbrush—or not using it, as you've made very clear—is you."

Y/N laughs, the tension of the moment broken. "That might be the least romantic declaration ever."

"I disagree," Harry counters with a grin. "I think it's very romantic. Exclusive toothbrush rights? That's commitment."

"You're ridiculous," Y/N tells him, but her voice is warm with affection.

"You love it," Harry replies confidently, releasing her hand to grab the shopping cart again.

As they continue through the store, Y/N can't help but glance at the sixteen toothbrushes now sitting in their cart and shake her head with amusement. From a morning argument about dental hygiene to jokes about hoes to tender moments in the middle of a grocery store—it's all so perfectly them.

Later, as they're loading their purchases into Harry's Range Rover in the parking lot, Y/N pulls out one of the toothbrush packs and examines it thoughtfully.

"You know," she says casually, "sixteen might actually be useful. Four for each bathroom in the house."

Harry pauses in the middle of placing a grocery bag in the trunk, turning to her with exaggerated shock.

"Four bathrooms? Are you suggesting we need separate toothbrushes for each bathroom now? The madness continues!"

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "I'm being practical. Sometimes I brush my teeth downstairs if we're rushing out."

"Ah," Harry nods sagely, "strategic toothbrush placement. Very forward-thinking of you."

"Exactly," Y/N agrees, playing along. "And this way, if any of your hoes do stay over, they can have the guest bathroom ones."

Harry laughs, closing the trunk before turning to face her fully. In one smooth motion, he backs her against the side of the car, caging her in with his arms on either side of her.

"How many times do I have to tell you," he murmurs, his voice dropping to that low register that makes her knees weak, "there are no hoes. Just you. Only ever you."

Before Y/N can respond, he's kissing her. Deep and possessive, right there in the parking lot where anyone could see. She melts into it, her hands automatically moving to his chest, feeling his heart beating steady and strong beneath her palms.

When he finally pulls away, they're both slightly breathless.

"Besides," Harry adds with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with promise, "I don't have time for hoes. Not when I have you waiting for me at home, looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Y/N asks innocently, though she knows exactly what he means.

"Like you're thinking about what I'm going to do to you when we get home," Harry replies, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling low in her belly. "Which, by the way, involves finishing what we started this morning."

Y/N feels her cheeks flush, but she meets his gaze steadily. "Then we should probably get going. Those toothbrushes won't arrange themselves."

Harry laughs, pressing one more quick kiss to her lips before stepping back to open the passenger door for her. "Toothbrushes. Right. That's definitely my priority right now."

Taglist: @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinema @bethiegurl19@sstylezzz @spargelhund @myfavfanficsever @spinnic @fruity-harry

[harry-stylesarchives]

​y’all are gonna LOVE this one because I’m obsessed with uncle!harry on @gurugirl’s patreon!

Uncle Harry

*This is an ongoing series on Patreon. This part can be read as a standalone (as that was how it was originally written). Enjoy!

Summary: You're a preschool teacher. Harry is your student's uncle. He seems quite keen on winning you over when you run into him again at a wedding.

A/n: I get lots of asks about this Patreon fic over here and I figured I'd share the "one shot" that started it all with you guys on Tumblr. All subsequent parts are only on Patreon. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4,217

Warning: smut

MAIN MASTERLIST

.

"This is Uncle Harry!" Kale excitedly jumped up and down, his small hand tucked inside a much larger one attached to a man you'd never seen before. Kale's mother rushed into the classroom behind them.

"This is my brother, " she gestured toward the tall man. "He's in town for the weekend, and we're having him pick Kale up this afternoon so I wanted to introduce you so you'd know who he was."

You smiled up at him. "Nice to meet you, Uncle Harry. I'm Y/n." You shook his hand as Kale ran toward the toys in the room, already forgetting all about his mom and uncle standing there.

"Nice to meet you too Miss Y/n." Oh. The way he said your name…

You slid your hand away from his palm and tried to push off the immediate attraction so you could act normal and professional. He was tall and handsome with a deep voice and bright, kind eyes.

They both left before you'd recovered. You were taken aback by his presence. It was only 8:30 in the morning and you had an entire long day of herding three-year-olds ahead of you. So, you couldn't dwell on his grin, or his dimples, or his dark waves of hair, and you most certainly needed to not think about the way his frame looked powerful or how he moved around your space with such exquisite masculinity.

Being a preschool teacher was a thankless job. Although you liked working with kids and most of the parents were great, it left you exhausted, frazzled, and worst of all, broke at the end of the day.

Most of the parents who dropped their kids off at Bright Beginnings were looking for a place that was affordable and safe. They couldn't afford one of those expensive spots that actually paid the preschool teachers a living wage. You often thought about applying to one of the fancier schools so you could earn more money and you could drop your weekend catering gig.

But even though none of the children in your class were your own, you grew attached to them like they were. You loved them and they deserved to be treated with gentleness and patience. Your greatest fear was quitting your job for a better one and being replaced by someone who didn't love them the way you would.

Uncle Harry showed up at 3 o'clock on the dot. He was standing tall in the door frame grinning into the classroom—grinning at you.

You'd been sitting on the floor, legs criss-cross as all the children were gathered around listening to you read. You knew the book word for word. It was the end of the day book you read every day so as Harry moved into the room you watched him, as you continued rattling off each line on the page.

He crouched down and sat on the floor behind the kids, tucking his long legs underneath himself. Kale had yet to see his uncle. Harry watched you intently. It had the blood under your skin convecting.

"This is happiness. It shines yellow like the sun, and twinkles like the stars." You read aloud from the page with the yellow monster drawing. Your voice came out breathier than you intended as you looked away from him back toward the book and turned the page.

You tried to collect yourself but Kale's uncle seemed quite fixed on you as you read the next page. Looking toward him you began to smile, the lilt of your words affected by the way your mouth stretched upward.

"Uncle Harry!" Kale had finally realized his uncle was there. You watched him crash into him, arms around his neck as Harry fell back, catching himself with one palm down on the floor and the most alluring laugh you'd ever heard.

A couple of other parents arrived right then. You stood from the floor to help them get their things and send them off as Kale showed Harry around the room and to his cubby with the drawing he made that day.

"Kale is a great artist." You pointed toward the light blue construction paper with crayon drawing. He'd drawn his family with a big sun at the top and a flower at the bottom.

"This is Uncle Harry." Kale pointed his short finger toward the very tall figure he'd drawn and then he slid his fingertip toward the shorter figure next to the one that was Harry. "And this is Miss Y/n."

You smiled at him and leaned down to take a closer look. He'd drawn a nice big smile on your face and your stick figure was standing right up against Harry's stick figure. Glancing up at the man, he shifted his sight to yours after assessing the drawing.

"That was so sweet of you to add me to your picture. Thank you." You patted Kale on the back and stood up.

"He couldn't stop talking about you all night," Harry spoke, his eyes still set on you.

You laughed. "Oh, well, I mean we do hang out all day together so, I suspect that's bound to happen."

"Probably right." His smile was making your knees weak.

When another parent arrived you were distracted from Kale and his uncle and only glanced up when they left the classroom together. You smiled. Harry was unexpected and awfully handsome. You hoped you'd see him again someday.

. .

The wedding guests were all mingling and laughing or dancing by the time you came out into the hall to check on the food trays and remove any empties. It looked like most of the food had been eaten, which was always a good thing. The woman you worked for, catered for local weddings and small functions and she was often booked up for one thing or another every weekend. You liked working with her and the other two people she rotated in as needed.

But mostly you liked the flexibility and the extra money. It wasn't much, but it helped. That night you'd be getting cut a decent little check. Catering weddings was always a bit better than some work functions. Of course, there was a lot more work to do for weddings too.

You stacked up the stainless steel platters and shut off the burners as you went. Everyone was already on to dessert and coffee anyway.

"Miss Y/n."

You turned sharply to look at the person who'd just addressed you. You knew who it was before your eyes even landed on him. If the miss didn't give it away it was the familiar deep voice that did.

"Uncle Harry." You smiled at him and wiped your hands down your waist apron.

"You're working here?" He tilted his head to the side as he looked you up and down.

Nodding you laughed. "Yep. Gotta pay the bills."

"And being my nephew's preschool teacher doesn't give you that luxury?"

"Uh… I mean… It's not really a well-paying job. I do love it, though." You rushed out that last sentence, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"I could tell you love the job. I'm just surprised you need another one."

Swallowing you flitted your eyes toward the table and back at him. "It's fine."

Now you were embarrassed. You worked hard. You were an honest person but you were not afforded certain luxuries in life that others were. Among other things, you never finished college and therefore, finding a job that paid well wasn't always the easiest.

Harry was dressed in a dark navy suit that he filled out in such a way that made him look terrifically sharp and stunning. And even somehow taller. You watched him lift his arm and look down at his wristwatch before he set his soft green irises on your face. "What time do you wrap up?"

You smiled as you looked around the room. "Whenever everyone here wraps up. We've got to wash dishes and box up the leftovers. Tomorrow they'll be donated to the women's shelter just up the street. But as you can see…" You gestured toward the table. "There aren't many leftovers."

He nodded as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

"So, you know the bride and groom?"

Another nod. "Yeah. My brother just got married. Kale's other uncle."

"Ahh… I see. How fun. So, Kale's mom is here too then?"

"Yeah, she's somewhere out there dancing probably."

You noticed he kept eyeing your catering outfit. Black slacks and a white button-up shirt with a black tie tucked into your waist apron. You looked as basic as they came.

"I'm gonna hang back until the end. Will you come find me before you leave?"

Blinking your eyes you pushed a breath from your throat in surprise. "Sure. Was there something you needed?"

He shook his head as a light smirk turned the edge of his mouth upward. "Just to see you again."

The room around you began to dissolve as your eyes stayed glued to his. It suddenly felt hard to breathe as you watched him gently rake his eyes over your face. "Okay." You practically breathed the word out.

You had a hard time concentrating on anything other than your impending visit with Harry again. You kept wanting to poke your head out to look around the hall and see what he was doing, or to just glimpse at him again but you did have a job to do, as distracted as you might be.

It felt like it took ages for things to wrap up. The band stopped playing and had packed up their things, guests milled out slowly, the bride and groom had left hours earlier… And finally, you were finished loading the van out in the back when you took your waist apron off and tucked it under your arm before saying goodbye to your boss.

Normally you'd have walked out the back to leave but Harry had said he wanted to see you again. Who knew what he wanted but there was no way you were going to pass up the chance to find out.

Looking around the nearly empty hall you spotted him at a table with another man. He'd removed his suit jacket and was leaned back into the seat with his arms crossed over his chest nodding as he listened to the man talking to him. His eyes were narrowed slightly, his features otherwise schooled into impassivity. He looked bored.

Stepping in closer, you didn't want to interrupt, but you did want to at least signal to him that you were there if he still wanted to see you. You wondered if maybe he'd forgotten and you started to feel a little silly by the whole thing as you lifted a hand and waved to get his attention.

The moment he caught sight of you he sat up straight and his expression brightened. He said something to the man as he grabbed his suit jacket and took a few long-legged strides in your direction before sliding an arm into yours, leading you toward the exit. "Thank god you showed up. He just talked my ear off about a baseball team I know nothing about. For almost thirty minutes!"

You laughed as you let yourself get practically dragged out the door with him. When you'd stepped outside he let you go and looked up at the sky briefly. "I hate small talk." He looked back down at you. "Especially when it's about sports."

You laughed again and he dragged his eyes down to your pants and then back up. "What are you doing right now? Done for the night?"

Nodding you shifted under his gaze. "Yeah. For me, I'm done. So, probably just go home soon."

"Wanna go somewhere?"

Pushing a laugh out of your mouth you watched him move in a little closer. "Like where?"

"There's a 24-hour cafe and bar in the hotel I'm staying at. Maybe we could start there?"

His hotel?

Swallowing you found yourself nodding yes. Maybe it was unwise to say yes like that. Risky even. However, probably less risky than if he were some random man. Harry was Kale's uncle, after all. So there was some familiarity there, even if you'd only just met him the day before.

Your second latte was probably a bad idea. You were feeling the caffeine jitters as you both chatted about various topics. You learned Harry was a pilot and amateur boxer. He was so much more interesting than you were. It felt like you were conversing with some high-level being who was intelligent, gold-hearted, skilled, and naturally handsome. While you were… well, a preschool teacher and part-time caterer. Your hobbies consisted of knitting and watching true crime shows. He was so far out of your league that it wasn't funny.

But he was 100% flirting with you, despite all that. Which was surprising.

He wasn't shy about it either. He kept knocking his knee against yours after insisting that you two sat next to each other. He had a long arm draped behind you on the bench seat and every so often you felt his hand brushing against your neck or your shoulder.

He even leaned in, pressing himself against your side, and spoke with his mouth close to your ear saying things like you smelled good, he liked your necklace, and that you were gorgeous.

Needless to say, you were kind of a squirmy, giggly mess next to him. He was coming on hard. You were aware he was probably just trying to get you in the sack. And honestly? That was fine with you.

"You don't have a boyfriend do you?" He finally asked you. You wondered if it would have mattered if you did. Clearly, you were past the point of that being a dealbreaker for him.

"No. What about you? Girlfriend?" You tilted your head back to look up at him.

"Nope. I'm single. Anything else that would stop you from coming up with me to my room?"

And there it was. The question. You weren't sure it would ever come but you thought it might. He thumbed at the nape of your neck and looked down at your lips as you parted your mouth and smiled up at him.

"Depends on what you're planning."

He licked his lips. "Fair enough. But I'm pretty sure you already have a good idea of what my aim is here."

You sniffed a laugh. "I can't make any assumptions about what your intentions are. Wouldn't be the first time I'd read signals wrong."

He nodded, "So, you want it straight. I think you're beautiful and I think you're a good teacher so you're sweet and patient too, which is…" He shook his head as he kept his gaze pinned to yours. "Well, it's sexy, Miss Y/n." He grinned. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since yesterday morning and imagine my surprise when the girl I couldn't get out of my mind was at the wedding tonight. Felt like I had to do something about it."

Your head wasn't screwed on right or something when you felt yourself being pulled against him and you pushed your lips to his. You didn't know if you made the move or if he did but it was something that felt instinctual. He groaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you placed a palm over his chest. You could feel the raging beat of his heart, proof that he was just as wound up over the kiss as you were.

So, yes. You went to his room with him. There was no question anymore about what was going to happen or what his intentions were. When your clothes were littered on the floor next to his and you were spread out underneath him as he licked and tongued your skin and then your pussy you were sure you'd made the right choice.

He was confident, skilled, and just the right side of aggressive to make you wilt and gush at his will. His body was another thing, though. He was brawny but slender, and his maleness was palpable. The light scattering of hair on his strong pecs, his broad shoulders, well-muscled thighs, and the dark patch of hair under his happy trail that led down to a big, healthy cock… he was sexy.

Every drag of his tongue reminded you of what hung heavy between his thighs. You clenched around empty space with the image of his erection being nudged up inside of you. You'd never wanted to feel a man so badly before.

But then he tucked two fingers inside and added pressure to your front wall that had you writhing and coming as he sucked on your clit. Fuck.

You were panting and catching your breath as you watched him roll a condom down his shaft. He kept his eyes on you, half-lidded, wet lips, aching cock (you were sure from the looks of it). When he climbed over you he wrapped his lips around your breast and looked up at you. A scratched moan fell from your lungs when he moved to the other side.

"So fucking pretty, Y/n. So sweet too." He pressed his palms over your tits as he fit himself between your thighs. "Gonna feel so good around me, aren't you?"

He lowered his gaze to your pussy as he thumbed at your clit softly. You inhaled sharply, the sensitive bud still reeling after he'd just sucked an orgasm out of you.

When you pushed away slightly he grabbed your hip and pulled you back toward him. "Not done with you yet. Stay put."

You might have laughed if those words weren't so hot coming from him. But the truth was that you'd never been told to stay put before. At least not during sex. Something about the way Harry was doing everything was a wild turn-on.

"Good. There you go. Be good for me, Miss Y/n. Yeah?"

Miss Y/n… You felt your limbs melt at his deep, breathy rasp. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined someone calling you Miss anything would be so sexy. Or maybe it was just Harry that made it sexy.

When you felt him place his hands on your forearms and push them down to the mattress, pinning you in place he leaned in and kissed you again. For a moment you thought he'd fuck you as soft as the way he kissed. It was slow and sensual. But then you moaned and he lifted, aiming his tip at your entrance and pushing himself in, sinking in until he was balls-deep. The snap of his crown into your delicate cervix had you gasping loudly and your eyes widening.

Harry's cock was big and he was hard as stone and he was buried in deep and he panted and watched your face as you adjusted around him. He pulled back and then rutted in deep again, the bed shifting under you with a bounce. There was something about the way he was holding your arms down and the subtle dominating way he was fucking you that ratcheted your desire up outrageously.

You clenched around him, relishing the feel of him inside of you. His hips ground against yours, prodding as he stared into your eyes. It was so possessive, almost controlling the way he fucked.

His entire body hardened, the muscles of his chest and arms straining as he pulled out to the tip. The rigid tightening of his abs was the only warning you got before he forced his cock forward. Smacking into you hard, your body jolted upward, tits bouncing from the force.

You cried out and his chest rumbled with a low, primitive sound. “Christ… You feel so good.”

Tightening his hold, he started fucking you, nailing your hips to the mattress with powerful drives. Pleasure rippled through you, pushing through your insides with every hot shove of his cock through your walls.

You didn't say anything but your brain was screaming… Yes, right there, fuck me harder…

He buried his face in your neck and moved his hands down to your hips to hold you tightly in place, plunging hard and fast, gasping raw, heated sex… He breathed against your ear. “Fuck you feel that?"

He swiveled his hips against you, stroking pleasure through your gushing core. You made a small, helpless sound of need and his mouth slanted over yours. You were desperate for him, nails digging into his pumping hips, struggling with the grinding urge to rock into the ferocious thrusts of his big cock.

You were both sweating, skin hot and slicked together, chests heaving for air. As an orgasm brewed like a storm inside of you, everything tightened and clenched, squeezing. He cursed and shoved one hand beneath your hip, cupping your ass and lifting you into his thrusts so that his cock head stroked over and over the spot that ached for him.

It was like he knew where to drag his dick to get you off, knew the spot on the inside that sent waves of satisfaction through your guts. You choked a moan as he pounded into your wet cunt, hitting you deep inside, his plump ridged cock slicking against something that did it for you. Something that made you see stars.

You babbled nonsense as you orgasmed around him, your walls pulsing as he thrust in and in, holding you against him as he wrecked your insides. You could hear his pants, his moans, his gurgled grunts as he drove into you, thick cock filling and stuffing until you were a limp noodle in his arms and he was working into you, chasing his own release.

He tensed and threw his head back, gasping your name as he spurted heavy pumps of come into his condom, hips stilled against you… throbbing. He clung to you so tight you could feel the pinch and knew you'd see bruises later. He slowly pressed his chest back to yours as he rutted gently, soft breaths as he emptied every drop of himself, tucking deep inside of you until he was completely still.

You felt his mouth against yours, and then lower as he kissed your neck and then over to your shoulder as your entire body tingled and pulsed.

"Fuck," he cursed. He smeared his lips up to your jaw and then looked down at you. He didn't say a word as he lifted a hand and smoothed his palm over your jaw where he'd just kissed. You watched him take you in, his pupils sliding over your features as he caught his breath.

Lifting your own hands upward you pushed your fingers into his hair. You loved the way it felt having the weight of him over you like that.

"Stay the night."

Blinking your eyes up at him you laughed. "Whatever happened to please?"

He smiled. "Please, Miss Y/n?"

Another laugh puffed from your mouth. "I'll think about it."

Harry squinted down at you, an amused expression on his face. "You'll stay. And you'll give me your number too."

Your heart was thudding in your chest. You loved the direction this was going. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you wanna see me again. And because you want to do right by Kale."

"Do right by Kale? What do you mean?" Your grin stretched wide to match his.

"You saw his family drawing. He thinks you and I should be together. I say he's right."

You pushed at him gently, his hard muscles not budging under your palm as you laughed. "He doesn't think we're together, Harry. He just likes me because I'm his teacher. He spends a lot of time with me."

"He seems to think we're gonna get married actually. I'm positive it was just a dream he had but who knows? Maybe he's prophetic or something."

You both laughed. It was the silliest pillow talk you'd ever had after sex. But somehow, it was also the most riveting. You didn't know what to think about Harry. He was quite forward, but it was refreshing not to have a man beating around the bush for once.

"Prophetic or not, it's a little fast to be talking marriage, don't you think?"

He looked down at your mouth, a smirk so seductive on his lips you were finding yourself turned on all over again. "Why? You don't want to marry me?"

"Oh my god…" You turned your head and looked up at the ceiling as you rolled your eyes. "Now you're just fucking with me. We just met!"

He laughed and you felt his hand on your jaw again. "Did we? Feels like I've known you for ages. Guess we'll have to just get to know one another. Take it slow first."

You focused back on his handsome face. "I can't tell if you're teasing or if you're insane."

"How about this… You stay the night and then give me your number before I have to leave tomorrow. We'll go from there, yeah?"

You laughed out your words, not hardly believing anything that was happening. "Okay. Fine. You're still insane, though."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just a man who knows what he wants."

. .

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[harry-stylesarchives]

I’m begging for some stupidly in love Harry fluff pleas Sarah it’s been a day☹️

Hiii lovey!! I hope this helps I’m sorry it’s short but it’s just some fluffy goodness!! 💖

Tag list: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan

CW: slightly grumpy Harry but tons of fluff

Summary: Everyone in the neighborhood is shocked to learn you’re married to the grumpy man that almost never smiles✨

“Okay I’ll do ten minutes.” Harry says in a final attempt to bargain with you as the two of you walk towards the back gate of one of your neighbors who are hosting an end of the summer party. You let out a laugh that has Harry’s hand gripping yours a little tighter as a silly grin takes over his face, the sound almost making him forget all about the stupid party he���s walking into.

“We agreed on an hour.” You remind him making a small sigh escape him as he reaches forward to open the gate for you with his free hand. “Just go stand off to the side so no one will bother you.” Harry wants to laugh at how well you know him and his need to not want to be bothered with the annoying pointless small talk that seems to come with social events such as this.

“I’m coming to find you in exactly an hour.” You just smile and nod as you turn so you can face him, placing your hand on his chest as he looks down at you. “I love you.” You smile and reach up on your tip toes to place a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.” He smiles as you pull away, he gives your hand a little squeeze before letting it go so you can walk off towards the small group of wives you’ve become sort of friends with since moving into the neighborhood almost a year ago.

“So when are we going to finally meet this husband of yours?” Tiffany one of your neighbors asks a few minutes into the party, a wiggle of her eyebrows adding a playfulness to her question, you let out a laugh as you bring your plastic cup filled with something way too sweet up to your lips for a quick sip.

“Yes we’re dying to meet him.” Megan chimes in with a smile as you reach down and place your cup on the table in front of where the three of you are standing in the middle of Tiffany’s backyard.

“Oh he’s actually here tonight.” Your words have their eyes going a little wide, you rub your lips together as you turn and look around the small yard until you find a pair of green eyes already staring right at you from across the party. “He’s right over there.” You give him a small little wave that he instantly returns along with a kiss that he shamelessly blows in your direction that has your cheeks going pink at how adorable he can be even while tucked away all alone in the corner of someone’s backyard.

“Him?” Megan asks, her voice laced with pure shock at discovering your husband is none other than the man her own husband has said isn’t very nice.

“Yeah that’s Harry he’s my husband.” You tell them as Harry just continues to stare at you from across the party, the hand that’s not wrapped around a bottle of water running through his hair before he glances down at the watch on his wrist, the only time he takes his eyes off of you.

“He-he’s uhm well he sure is a handsome one.” Tiffany says with an awkward laugh that has you raising a brow as you turn your attention off of Harry who doesn’t miss the sudden shift in your demeanor.

“Have you two met him before?” You question feeling the sense that the two woman standing in front of you already know your husband somehow.

“Oh no not me uh John has.” Tiffany answers while looking over at Megan.

“So has Rick and he just said Harry was kinda,” Megan lets out a small sigh as she contemplates telling you the next thing. “Well he’s kinda mean? Or just kinda-grumpy.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your laugh as Megan and Tiffany look at you with concern etched on their faces.

Harry having a reputation as being the neighborhood grouch isn’t news to you, he’s not a very personable man but that’s because he despises small talk. He can’t be bothered to engage in fake and meaningless conversations with people he has no real interest in getting to know so he just doesn’t, he nods and walks away when they shoot him a smile and a greeting from across the street. The only thing that’s sort of shocking to you is that neither of them seemed to notice that the house you’ve had the wives over for lunch at a few times since moving in is the same one their husband’s all have seen Harry in front of, either mowing and tending to the lawn or washing your car. You just brush it off and stand up a little taller, letting out a small little sigh as you tuck some hair behind your ear.

“He doesn’t do well with meeting new people that’s all.” You say in his defense but before either of them can say anything else you feel a pair of hands on your hips pulling you backwards until you’re flush against Harry’s strong hard chest.

“Hello ladies.” Harry kindly greets with a small smile as you melt into his hold with a grin on your face. “Mind if I steal my wife for a bit? Been ten minutes too long without her.” Tiffany and Megan can only shake their head slowly as they watch Harry walk the two of you away from them.

“They think you’re grumpy.” You tell him as you turn around in his hold, your arms finding their way around his neck. “Or at least that’s what their husband’s think so of course they also think you’re a bit grumpy and mean.”

“That’s because their husbands all met me when I wasn’t around you.” He explains with a shrug as if what he just said is common sense. “Didn’t you know? I’m a proper miserable grumpy grouchy twat when I’m away from you.” You roll your eyes as his thumbs rub at the top of your hips.

“Harry I’m being serous.”

“So am I.” He states as he leans down so his forehead is resting on yours as you let out a huff. “You’re my main source of happiness baby so when I’m away from you-well I just can’t be bothered to be polite especially to nosey little neighbors like John and Rick.”

“I keep you nice then? Is that what you’re saying?” You ask with a smile as Harry teasingly bumps the tip of his nose into yours.

“Exactly.” Is all he says before he places his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that has you pulling him down towards you to keep it going for a few seconds longer when you feel him try to pull away.

Harry has a grin on his face as you finally let him pull away from you, he knows people are looking and he knows they’re all going to be whispering about how the hell you ended up marrying a man like him. But what they don’t know is the man they think is grumpy because he doesn’t return small talk or the polite smiles he gets from his neighbors is the same man that wakes up ten minutes before you just to turn the coffee pot on and is the same man who doesn’t let you go a single day without telling you how much he adores you. So as the two of you stand there lost in your own little bubble you don’t mind the stares and the whispers, because you know they’ll never really know Harry the way you do and that’s fine because he’s your husband and he loves you enough to blow kisses to you from across a party he didn’t even want to go to all because you caught him staring at you.

[harry-stylesarchives]

every wrong answer* || dubcon warning

Summary: y/n’s too dumb to study right, so dad’s best friend harry makes her strip for every wrong answer—and fucks her stupid when she fails the final question.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: daddy’s best friendharry x college student!y/n , dubcon, dumbification, strip game, restraints, bondage, blindfold, rough sex, creampie, praise kink, degradation.

***

“Harry,” she whined, chewing on the eraser of her pencil. “This is so hard.”

“You mean for you,” he said without looking up, flipping another page in her textbook. “This is middle school science, Y/N. And you’re in college”

She scowled at him from where she sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, her notebook resting on her bare thighs, fuzzy white socks rolled halfway down her calves. Her oversized t-shirt was hanging loose off one shoulder, exposing the strap of her pink bralette. Short shorts clung to her hips, legs pressed tight beneath her. Her skin smelled like lotion—coconut maybe—and a faint sheen of warmth clung to her collarbones.

“I’m trying!” she pouted, tapping the notebook’s corner against her chest. “But you use, like, big words! I don’t know what any of it means!”

He sighed and closed the book with a sharp thump, stretching his arms across the back of the couch. His fingers laced behind his head. She glanced up and caught the muscles flex in his forearms, the veins in his hands, the watch on his wrist glinting in the late afternoon light. He’d taken off his button-up when he came in, left in a fitted black tee that hugged his chest and shoulders in a way that made her belly feel funny.

Harry tilted his head. “Maybe we need a different kind of motivation.”

Her brow furrowed. “Like what?”

He reached into the drawer beside him and pulled out a black-handled pair of scissors. He held them loosely between his fingers, opened and closed them once.

Snick-snack.

Y/N’s eyes went wide.

“Okay, baby,” he said, voice smooth and slow, “here’s the deal. You want to pass this test, right?”

She nodded.

“And you said you’re not stupid.”

She frowned. “Well, I’m not!”

“Then prove it.”

He crouched down in front of her, one knee to the rug, scissors gleaming. He looked at her, unblinking.

“For every question you get wrong,” he said, “I cut off a piece of clothing. Completely. No taking it off. It gets ruined.”

Her lips parted. “What?”

He smirked. “And if you get it right, you get a kiss.”

Her blush crept fast. “A kiss?”

“Mhm,” he said softly. “Right here—” he brushed a knuckle under her chin, “or here—” his fingers skimmed her bare shoulder.

Y/N swallowed.

Her voice was small. “…What kind of kiss?”

“You’ll find out.”

She hesitated, thighs clenching. The scissors made another snick.

“Unless you’re scared.”

She raised her chin. “I’m not scared.”

He smiled.

“Good girl.”

He took her notebook, flipped to a fresh page, and scrawled a question across the top.

“First one’s easy,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “What’s the powerhouse of the cell?”

She blinked. “Oh! That one’s mitochondria!”

Harry smiled. “Very good.”

Before she could react, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her throat—slow, warm, lips dragging against her pulse point. His hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb stroking softly, mouth moving lower to the hollow between shoulder and collarbone. His tongue flicked out, just once, and she twitched.

“Harry…”

“That’s a kiss,” he murmured against her skin.

She was already flushed.

“Next question.” He pointed to the next line. “What’s the function of ribosomes?”

Y/N bit her lip. “They… umm… they do something with cells… like, like structure?”

His smile faded.

“Wrong.”

He reached forward, slipped the scissors under the hem of her t-shirt, and—

Shrrrrip.

She gasped as he sliced clean up the middle, straight through the center. The fabric fell open, revealing her baby pink bralette underneath, the soft swell of her breasts pressing against the cups.

“Harry!”

“You agreed,” he said, tossing the ruined shirt aside.

Her arms wrapped across her chest instinctively, but he caught her wrists gently and guided them down.

“No covering. You want to win the game, right?”

She whimpered. “Yes…”

He traced a finger along the edge of her bra. “Then be a good girl and let me see what I’m working with.”

Her nipples were visibly hard through the lace. His eyes lingered there, hungry.

“Next question,” he said, voice rougher now. “What does DNA stand for?”

Y/N blinked. “Deoxyrib…something acid?”

He tilted his head.

“Deoxyribonucleic acid?”

“Correct.”

She smiled, relieved.

He leaned in again, this time brushing her hair aside and kissing just behind her ear. Soft, wet, slow. Then lower, his tongue tracing the slope of her shoulder, making her shiver.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes.

“What’s the function of the Golgi apparatus?”

She hesitated.

“Uhm… transportation?”

“Wrong.”

Snip.

He caught one strap of her bralette and sliced through it.

The cup sagged, one breast spilling free—round, plush, pink nipple hard in the air. Her hands shot up again, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them gently behind her back.

“Hands off. You don’t get to hide anything anymore.”

“B-But—”

“No buts.”

Snip.

The second strap went, and the bra peeled down over her stomach.

She was topless now, fully exposed, chest heaving with each breath.

Harry’s eyes swept down her body, tongue wetting his bottom lip. “Beautiful,” he muttered.

“Next question.”

Her voice was shaking. “Harry…”

“You still want to play?”

She hesitated.

“…Yes.”

He smiled.

“What’s the function of lysosomes?”

She wracked her brain. “Cleaning!”

He smiled. “That’s right.”

This kiss landed between her breasts—warm, lingering, his mouth closing around one nipple, sucking gently until she moaned.

“H-Harry!”

“Keep studying.”

He slid lower, fingers now tracing the waistband of her shorts.

“Name one difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells.”

“Uhm… uhh—eukaryotic has… a nucleus?”

“Correct.”

She trembled with relief.

He kissed her stomach—lower and lower, until his nose brushed just above the button of her shorts. His tongue darted out, licking the skin there, his breath hot.

“Good little student.”

She whimpered.

“Next question. What does RNA do?”

“I-It helps… umm… makes… proteins?”

“Correct again.”

He unbuttoned her shorts, but didn’t remove them. Instead, he slid his hand inside, fingers pressing against the thin cotton of her panties.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered.

She squirmed. “Harry…”

“One wrong answer,” he said, “and these come off.”

“Okay…”

“What’s transcription?”

She bit her lip. “Turning DNA… into… RNA?”

“Correct.”

He kissed her lower belly. Her hips arched.

She was shaking now.

“What’s translation?”

Her eyes went wide.

“I—I don’t know…”

Snip.

He sliced through the seam of her shorts. Then again on the other side. The denim peeled away, and he tossed it aside. Now only her panties remained.

Harry looked up at her, eyes dark. “Still want to play?”

She nodded weakly, lips parted, breath catching when he shifted closer.

“Good,” he murmured, voice rough like velvet over gravel. “Now. Focus.”

He touched the center of her panties with two fingers—pressed them gently against her slit, the damp cotton clinging tight to every line of heat. Y/N squeaked, hips jerking, and he only smiled.

“You’re soaked, baby,” he said, dragging his fingers in a slow circle, smearing the wet spot deeper. “All that struggling. All that studying. And you’re sitting here dripping because I asked you what a ribosome does.”

“I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he said, voice low and indulgent. “You’re just not smart enough to know better.”

Her whole body flushed scarlet. Her thighs squeezed together instinctively, trying to hide, but he slid between them, kneeling close, his warm palms pushing them gently apart again.

“Shhh. Don’t think too hard. You’ll sprain something.” He grinned, then lifted the scissors again, twirling them lazily between his fingers.

Her stomach twisted. Her fingers curled into the carpet.

“Ready for the next one?”

She nodded again, but it was helpless now—like a doll waiting to be posed, touched, stripped bare.

“What’s the difference between DNA and RNA?” he asked, fingertips sliding up the inside of her thigh, dragging goosebumps in their wake.

Y/N bit her lip. “U-Um… DNA has… two… coils?”

“Strands,” he corrected.

“Strands! And—and RNA has… one?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, nodding approvingly. “Almost like you’re pretending to be clever.”

She gave him a hopeful smile.

He rewarded her with a kiss—wet and slow and hot, just beneath her navel. Then another, just lower. She gasped as his mouth lingered, open-mouthed against the band of her panties.

“I said kisses,” he murmured against her skin. “Didn’t say where.”

“H-Harry…”

He looked up at her, that wolfish smile curling his lips. “Next question. Where’s messenger RNA made?”

Her face went blank. “Wh—what?”

“Answer the question.”

“I-I don’t know…”

Snip.

The first side of her panties gave way.

She made a soft, high-pitched sound, halfway between a gasp and a cry. Her legs tensed, knees beginning to press together.

Harry caught her inner thighs and spread her open again. “None of that. I want to see.”

Snip.

The second side came free.

Her panties sagged in the center, barely clinging now, soaked enough that the gusset practically melted against her. She looked down at herself—exposed, shaking, bare except for that last clinging scrap.

Harry reached up and peeled it from her like he was unwrapping a treat. Her slick folds glistened in the afternoon light, swollen and twitching under his gaze. He tossed the ruined panties beside the rest of her clothes.

“There,” he said softly, eyes locked on her flushed pussy. “Knew it’d be pretty.”

Y/N whimpered, trembling.

Harry didn’t move for a second. Just looked. Devoured her with his eyes. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached for the silk tie folded beside him and let it unfurl across his palm.

“Now we’re out of fabric,” he said.

Her breath hitched.

“So…” He looped the tie loosely around one wrist, not pulling tight yet. “New rule.”

He looked up at her, fingers toying with the ends of the silk.

“For every wrong answer now, I tie part of you.”

“T-Tie—?”

“Wrist,” he said, tightening the loop with a firm pull. “Ankle. Elbow. Thigh. Neck. Anywhere I want.”

She made a soft, helpless noise.

“And if you get it right,” he said, “I kiss you deeper.”

Her cheeks flamed.

“You still want to play, baby?”

She stared at him. Nude. Exposed. Panting, throbbing, spread on the carpet with nothing left to cover her but the heat of his stare.

And she nodded.

“Good girl,” Harry said again.

Then he reached for another tie.

He reached for another tie—dark blue silk this time, faint sheen catching the light as he let it uncoil in his palm. His gaze never left hers, steady and burning, and Y/N’s whole body responded like a struck tuning fork. Her legs quivered where they were spread, her lips slightly parted, breath shallow and fluttering. Her breasts rose and fell with each inhale, nipples still hard, flushed dark pink from the air and from his mouth minutes earlier.

He leaned closer, laying the second tie across her lap.

“Next question,” Harry said, voice low and calm, almost cruel in its patience. “Which organelle is responsible for synthesizing lipids?”

She blinked. “Uhh…”

“Five seconds, baby. You should know this.”

“Is it the… smooth ER?”

His grin crept wide. “Look at you. One working brain cell left after all.”

She beamed for half a second before his hands found her waist, mouth descending just below her navel again—but this time it didn’t stop there.

His lips skimmed lower, past the soft mound between her legs, mouth brushing her inner thigh—then again, this time with tongue, slow and flat and obscene, lapping from the crease of her thigh right to the edge of her slit.

Y/N’s head dropped back with a whimper. “H-Harry—!”

“You earned that one,” he murmured, warm breath ghosting over the slick skin there.

“Next question. What does tRNA do?”

“Umm, I… I—”

“Takes too long,” he said flatly, then caught her other wrist and bound it with the second tie, matching the first—tight enough she felt it.

He pressed both wrists behind her back, knotting them together. Her shoulders pulled back with the motion, arching her chest forward, breasts pushed out and bare for him. He sat back and admired the effect, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“Tied up and still dumb as ever.”

“I didn’t know that one,” she whispered.

“I noticed.”

She squirmed, testing the binds. “What happens if I get another one wrong?”

“I’ll pick something else to bind.” He ran a hand down her thigh, slow, until his fingers curled around her ankle. “Like this.”

Y/N’s mouth parted, panting.

“Name the process by which cells divide.”

“Uhh—mitosis!”

He smiled. “There you go.”

This time, he kissed her breast. But not sweetly—not just a brush. His lips closed around one nipple and sucked, warm and hard, tongue curling against the tip until she gasped and arched into his mouth.

He released it with a wet pop. “Tastes like coconut lotion. And sweat.”

She whimpered, helplessly shifting.

“Still playing?”

She nodded, flushed and needy.

Harry reached for another tie, looping it around her ankle now, tugging it back toward her thigh and binding it there, folding her open.

Her pussy glistened, slick dripping down to the rug beneath her. Her lips were swollen and flushed, her clit twitching with each breath. And she couldn’t close her legs now.

“One ankle down,” he murmured. “Let’s see if you can protect the other.”

“Y-Yes—”

“Name the phases of mitosis.”

“Pro… prophase… anaphase…”

He waited, eyebrows raised.

“M-Metaphase! Telophase!”

“You forgot one.”

Her face crumpled. “Nnnh—what?!”

“Prometaphase,” he said smoothly, already reaching for her other ankle.

She thrashed. “I didn’t know there was a pro-meta!”

“That’s because you don’t study,” he said, looping the next tie around her ankle and binding it to her opposite thigh, leaving her splayed open like a gift. “But you’ve got an excuse now.”

He ran a finger through the slick seam between her folds, then brought it up to his mouth and sucked it clean.

“You’re leaking, baby,” he said. “You want a reward?”

She nodded desperately.

“What’s the name of the process that converts glucose into ATP?”

Her mouth worked uselessly.

“I—I know this—”

“Three seconds.”

“C-Cata—no, glyco—glycolysis!”

He chuckled. “Almost forgot it.”

And then he dipped his head between her legs.

No warning. No mercy.

His tongue pressed flat against her clit, slow and firm, then circled—lazily, deliberately, letting her hips twitch and buck uselessly in their bindings. His hands held her thighs apart, thumbs stroking her trembling skin as he licked again, faster now, tongue flicking back and forth.

Y/N moaned—loud, choked, raw. “H-Harry—!”

“Getting your answers right now, huh?”

She couldn’t respond. Could barely breathe.

“Next one,” he said, mouth still against her. “What’s a zygote?”

“F-Fertilized—” her head tossed back, “—cell, fertilized cell, ohmygod—”

“Correct.”

He licked deeper now, flattening his tongue and dragging it through her folds before sucking her clit into his mouth, hard and wet. She screamed, wrists yanking against the binds, every muscle tight.

Harry moaned low against her.

“Good fucking girl.”

His hands slid behind her, lifting her hips off the rug just enough to tilt her open further. She was a mess now—slick everywhere, inner thighs soaked, pussy flushed dark and glistening. He licked her again, then slipped one finger inside—slow, thick, curling it up until she gasped and clenched.

“Now we start extra credit,” he growled.

His finger curled again inside her, thick and slow, the pad pressing hard against that sweet spot buried just behind her entrance. Y/N’s thighs jerked in their bindings, knees spread wide, pussy twitching around his finger as slick dripped in lazy trails down to the rug beneath her. Harry licked up along her folds again, his tongue circling her clit in relentless spirals while his knuckle sank deeper.

“F-Fuck,” she whimpered, the sound barely even conscious, hips rocking helplessly toward his mouth, wrists tugging behind her back where the silk ties held her fast.

He pulled his mouth back just far enough to speak, chin wet, eyes hungry. “You gonna cum for me like this? Tied up and drooling?”

“Y-Yes—please, Harry, ohmygod—”

He added a second finger.

The stretch made her cry out—sharp and sudden—but it melted into a breathless moan as he pumped them both deep inside her, curling just right, tongue never letting up on her clit.

The pressure built fast. She couldn’t hold it—her brain couldn’t even try to do anything smart, not with him whispering good girl into her skin, not with her legs bound open and her whole body focused on that deep, curling pulse between her hips.

“I c-can’t,” she gasped. “I’m gonna—I’m—”

“You will,” he growled, thumb replacing his tongue now, rubbing her clit in slow, tight circles while his fingers drove into her harder, faster. “You’re gonna cum on my hand like a little fucking mess.”

She shattered.

Her whole body arched, heels dragging against the carpet, every muscle going taut as pleasure ripped through her—wet, gasping, mouth slack, thighs twitching with every throb of her cunt around his fingers.

Harry didn’t stop.

He worked her through it, let her ride it all the way, slick pouring around his hand, his thumb keeping steady on her clit until her body collapsed back to the floor, limbs boneless, mouth still whispering soft, wrecked little sounds.

He wiped his hand on her thigh, casually.

“Final question,” he said.

She blinked, barely conscious.

“W-What?”

He leaned down, grabbed her face with one hand and tilted it toward him, his eyes locked to hers.

“What’s a chromatid?”

Her mouth opened.

But nothing came out.

Then, weakly: “…a type of cell?”

He laughed once, dark and low.

“Wrong.”

He grabbed the last silk tie—deep red this time—and looped it slowly around her head. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t resist, her mouth still dazed, panting as the smooth fabric slid across her temples.

She couldn’t see.

She could only feel.

Tied blind, spread and twitching on the floor, lips parted, breath shallow—she felt everything more intensely: the brush of his fingertips down her sides, the sudden emptiness between her legs without his hand there, the air cooling the slick between her thighs.

And then—

She felt his arms scoop her up.

One beneath her knees, the other behind her back. Her wet skin clung to his shirt as he carried her, her tits pressed against his chest, her wrists still bound behind her.

She could smell him—soap and sweat and something deeper. Her cheek rested against his neck. He whispered:

“Time for the final lesson.”

He set her down on the hardwood surface of the table. Cool against her back, legs dangling over the edge, spread apart by his hands as he stepped between them. She could feel the brush of denim against her thighs, then the warm hardness of his cock through his jeans.

“You know what’s next, don’t you, baby?”

Y/N whimpered, nodding blindly.

He undid his belt with one slow, deliberate clink of metal. Then the zipper. She could hear the sound of it, every motion deafening now in her helpless silence. Her body twitched with anticipation, still oversensitive from the orgasm he’d wrung from her minutes ago.

She felt the blunt heat of his cock against her folds—thick and heavy, dragging through her slick. She whimpered again, her body arching toward him.

“Please…”

Harry leaned down, mouth brushing her ear.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Y-Yes,” she gasped.

“You want Daddy’s best friend to ruin you?”

She nodded. “Please, Harry, I want it—I want it so bad—”

His hands gripped her thighs, pulled her flush to the edge of the table, and with one hard, smooth thrust—he pushed inside.

“Fuuuck,” he growled, bottoming out in one deep stroke.

Y/N screamed.

Her pussy stretched wide around him, fluttering, still twitching from her last orgasm. He didn’t give her time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed in again, cock driving deep, splitting her open with every inch.

She was soaked—he slid easily, wet sounds echoing through the room with every thrust.

She couldn’t see.

She could only feel the table shaking under her, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, his cock battering her insides over and over, hitting that same spot again and again.

“So tight,” he gritted out. “Still clenching like your dumb little cunt doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“Harry!” she gasped, tears pricking at the corners of the blindfold.

Her tits bounced with every thrust, nipples peaked and flushed, her wrists straining behind her back. Her whole body was his to use—pinned, fucked, helpless.

“You like being used like this?” he snarled, hips snapping into her. “Like a stupid little toy?”

“Yes! Yes! Ohmygod—”

His thumb found her clit again, rubbing it hard and fast.

Her body convulsed.

“Gonna cum again for me?” he growled. “One more. Milk my cock for me, baby. That’s it—fucking take it—”

She came harder than before—hips jerking off the table, moaning wildly, cunt clenching around him like a vice.

He cursed, fucked through it, faster now—desperate, wild.

And then—

With a grunt and a final, brutal thrust—

He came.

Deep, hot, filling her up. His cock throbbed inside her, cum flooding her, thick and messy.

He didn’t pull out right away.

He held her there, buried deep, twitching as her walls milked him through the last pulses.

Breathless. Wrecked. Bound. Blinded.

Completely ruined on his cock.

And the test?

Passed with flying colors.

***

well, this was something different. tell me if you liked it!

my patreon with 300+ exclusive writings

[harry-stylesarchives]

pls….. after that last fic….. a part two where he makes good on his promise 😄😄😄

A part two to this blurb is finally here, enjoy ya filthy beasts😋

Wc: 1.2k

Warnings: SMUT, somnophilia (kind of), degradation kink, cockiness, dom/sub dynamics

It was late, very late, probably around 3am when Harry returned home from a night out. He said it was business, and he never really elaborated when it came to his job. You'd learned to accept the fact that Harry was probably doing something on the brink of illegality; you were too head over heels to get out anyway.

You'd had a calm night, watching a nice movie and reading before you decided to go to bed. The lights were out by 11pm, but you couldn't seem to fall asleep. You missed Harry; you could never sleep well if he wasn't by your side.

After much tossing and turning, you decided to soothe yourself, bringing out your favorite vibrator and watching a video Harry recorded of the two of you a couple of weeks ago.

Your pussy was immediately slick as you watched the memory unfold on the screen. There was nothing as arousing as seeing Harry's thick cock disappear into you over and over again. You listened to your own moans and his ragged breathing, and you orgasmed in only a few minutes.

Afterwards, you still craved more. You decided to watch another video, and another... until you'd climaxed three times in total. In between watching videos, you'd began to text Harry, telling him how badly you missed him and wanted him. You confessed you were getting off to the videos of the two of you, and how you wished he would make good on that promise he made a couple of weeks ago.

Somewhere around 1am, you fell asleep. You didn't hear the sound of the front door opening at 3am, nor did you hear your boyfriend entering the bedroom.

Harry was absolutely reeling over the texts you'd sent him. He had been taking care of some things at a club he was going to take over soon when he received your messages. Everything else fell into the nothingness when it came to you; you were all he could think about as he dealt with some late payments and some final negotiations.

He was positively in pain by the time he got home, his cock still hard and his mind still racing.

Seeing you sprawled out on the bed, sleeping so peacefully, he wanted to do nothing rather than split you in two.

Quietly, he got on the bed, pushing away the bedsheets to reveal your underwear. When he pushed it to the side to review your sweet cunt, he felt how wet you still were. Harry softly pushed your legs a bit further open, and even in your unconscious state you were quick to obey him.

He cursed under his breath at the sight of you beneath him, and he didn't waste any time unbuckling his jeans. He leaned forward, his hand on one side of your head as the other one stroked some hairs away from your face. Softly, he pressed a kiss to one of your eyelids. Your eyes fluttered open, the familiar scent of your boyfriend immediately soothing you. You looked at him, still a bit too weary to muster a full smile.

"Harry—" You whispered, but instantly choked on your words when your boyfriend suddenly pushed his huge cock into you. You let out a choked moan as he filled you to the brim, not expecting the sudden intrusion. Usually, Harry eased you into it, but now—

Then, it dawned on you; he was making good on his promise.

"Oh— shit! Ah!" You whimpered in pain, concentrating hard on relaxing your body so you would get used to his size again quicker. Harry groaned as he began to drive his cock into you at a steady pace.

"Fuck— thought about doing this the entire night." He said, holding your waist as he pounded into you. The size difference between the two of you was so big that any thrust of his would move you across the bed if he didn't restrain you. "Sending me those fucking texts... you were driving me crazy.”

"Mmm, oh! Ah, fuck!" You cried. You felt so stupid not being able to form a single sentence, but you were too busy processing how hard Harry was fucking into you.

"Fucking take it. You said you could take it, or were you lying?" He asked, and you immediately shook your head, hooking your legs further around his waist to pull him closer.

"No, I can! I can take it!" You shouted, only getting turned on more by the slight stinging feeling that you still felt as his cock jackhammered into you.

"Prove it to me." He encouraged, and you took it as a challenge. With all your strength, you pushed him to the side. He was surprised to watch you climb over him and sit yourself down on his cock, but he watched you with pure delight as you began to bounce on it.

You rode him as hard and as fast as you could, knocking the wind out of yourself multiple times each time his cock hit a particularly deep spot. You could quite literally feel him in your tummy.

"Fuck, pet, that's it. Fuck yourself dumb on my cock." He hissed, holding onto your hips as your orgasm began to build up in your lower stomach.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!" You began to ramble, nails scratching on his chest. Harry smirked knowingly; he'd felt you starting to clench around him. He reached out his hand, his thumb pulling on your lip. You instantly opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, and Harry proved you right by predictably sticking two fingers in your mouth, watching intently as you began to suck on them like your life depended on it.

"So fucking desperate... didn't you already have three orgasms tonight?" He taunted, sticking his fingers further down your throat. You moaned out, nodding your head in response to his question. He took out his fingers so you could reply to him properly.

"It feels better when you do it." You admitted, and he let out a low laugh.

"It does, doesn't it?" He asked rhetorically. You were going to answer him anyway, but any chance of forming a sentence was thrown out the window when Harry adjusted himself and suddenly began fucking up into you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, screaming out his name as he nailed into you, fingers still in your mouth.

"C'mon, come around my cock like the desperate slut you are." He egged you on, knowing exactly what to say to send you over the edge. Just like that, you were seeing stars as you climaxed around him, repeatedly saying his name as if it was a prayer.

Harry came almost immediately after, groaning as his sperm coated your walls until you were full of him. Of his cock, of his seed, of everything that had to do with him.

Of course, you wouldn't have it any other way.

[harry-stylesarchives]

Picture blurb! Just a little thing, I'm a sucker for western plots lately

Check out our Patreon for 300+ Exclusive writings and series, 3 uploads a week!

Warnings- cute banter, you may want a cowboy 🤷‍♀️

"You, my Darlin', are trouble." Paused behind her in all his grass stained denim, Stetson wearing, snakeskin boot and pearl snapped button up that let her see a little of his chested glory- was her boyfriend who had come back momentarily to grab something from the barn. Y/N had heard it over the walkie and made sure to meet him there- and walk a little ahead of him so he could see.

Her smug grin was large, perhaps too large considering her cheeks hurt.

"Who, me?" The fluttering of lashes, albeit to be a bit of a shit had Harry's fond smile growing. "Well I’d never... I think m'about as much of an angel as you could find.”

"Mhm. Lies you tell, baby. What's all this then, hm?" Fingers held her pockets as he pulled her into him, a hand flattening over the raised words embroidered on her right ass cheek. "S’that an invitation? Because I'll say fuck it to the fence repair if it is. Let the other guys take over- or the cattle out. Either one works." His hat shaded her face as she looked up at him with a pleased glint in her eye.

Harry rarely let them finish a big job without him, but Y/N knew he would never turn down a chance to be alone with her for a little while. Especially when there was a 'Kiss My Ass, Cowboy' stitched in the same jeans he'd torn off of her last week.

That exact thing had been the inspiration for the crafting. And maybe a little bit of Pinterest.

"It's whatever you want it to be." She hummed, giving him a coy look as she snatched the brown, wide brimmed Stetson from his head and onto hers. It was immediately apparent that it was too big, but she knew it would be. She'd been with him when he got it made. There was a whole process when you got a custom hat, the steaming, measuring for your head- it's why it cost as much as it did.

Cowboys and their toys.

"Naughty." He clicked his tongue, giving her ass a little swat on the words she'd been embroidering for a few days in her craft room. "Your first attempt at embroidery n'this is what y'do with it? Give me a constant reminder that your favorite ride out here is my face?" Shaking his head, he ran his other hand through his messy, slightly sweaty hair. "Your poor horse. Thank God y'saved her by riding me instead."

Y/N let out a pleased giggle, leaning into him as her hand grabbed his belt buckle. It was a little obnoxious, sure, but a constant reminder that what was underneath matched the oversized accessory. "That's exactly what I want it to do. Want you to remember what you've got to hurry home for."

"Trust and believe me, Darlin' girl, that there is no part of me that ever forgets what I've got at home. Especially when y'give such... encouraging send offs." He was purring, almost, giving her ass a squeeze. "But m'not opposed to a reminder. However, think I've got t'keep my hand in that damn pocket any time y'leave home with them on. Don't want any other cowboys t'get any ideas."

[harry-stylesarchives]

Soulmate Smells: A Harry Styles Soulmate AU 💕

Based on this post right here

CW: Obsessive and possessive Harry, intense feelings of attachment, smut, explicit dirty talk (Harry actually just talks a lot and can’t be bothered to filter himself okay?), lastly some light embarrassment and tiny moment of insecurity.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan

Word Count: 8K

A/N: You can all thank @likea-silhouette for this because they wanted more and said they’d never say no to smut so like…yeah enjoy Harry being obsessive but in a fluffy sweet and filthy way💕

Summary: A day at the farmer’s market has you leaving with way more than just some flowers and a few trinkets💕

You hum to yourself as you look at a few necklaces that are being displayed on a table in a booth located right in the middle of the farmer’s market you go to every Sunday. The man working the booth gives you a smile that you politely return before reaching for a small silver chain that has a flower pendant hanging on it, but when you go to look in the mirror and place the chain around your neck to get a look at where the pendant will hit your eyes catch something or more so someone in the reflection.

A man.

A handsome man.

You don’t know this man because surely you’d remember meeting a man with a face like his, a jawline that’s looks perfect for nibbling on while his lips look as if he’s been biting them all day but still soft enough that you imagine they’d feel like plush little pillows when pressed against yours. He has a grin on his face that would make you feel slightly uneasy at how big it is if he didn’t have a dimple popping out making him seem almost boyish and charming, his brown curly hair is a mixture of styled and messy that you can only assume is from him running his hands through it. But it’s his eyes that have your skin buzzing, they are so green and practically have hearts swirling around in them as they stare into yours and it has you deciding it might be time to head home for the day having bought a few little trinkets already.

You swallow down the sudden bundle of nerves you feel brewing in your tummy as you slowly place the necklace back down on the table offering the man working a warm smile before turning and heading further down the row of booths. As you walk past a booth selling flowers you can’t help but stop once you see the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, the main reason you even came to the market was for some new flowers for your kitchen so you bite the inside of your cheek before looking over your shoulder, letting out a small sigh of relief when you don’t see the green eyed man.

With the coast clear of creepy men you reach a hand down to grab them out of the white bucket filled with water but just then you see someone come and stand next to you out of the corner of your eye and soon a ring clad hand with a small faded cross tattoo between the index finger and the thumb beats you to them. A small gasp falls from your lips when they gently brush the tips of their fingers over yours in the process of grabbing the flowers making a tingling sensation run down your spine all the way to your toes.

“Do you like these?” A man with a British accent asks, the roses in his hand. When you look over you feel your eyes go wide and your heart begin to beat a mile a minute when the same pair of green eyes that you saw in the mirror are staring right at you.

“Uh yes they-they’re lovely.” You answer as you slowly back away from the man who only seems to be able to grin while looking at you, just nods quickly before turning and handing the bouquet to the woman working the booth. You take the opportunity to turn and walk towards the exit, not wanting to be visible by the time he’s done paying for his flowers.

“Wait!” You don’t look back as the same British accent is shouting for you, instead you take an abrupt right going past a few random booths on the aisle before making a left and then another immediate left, hoping that was enough to have the green eyed British man the run around as you reach the last row of booths near the exit.

“Thank go-”

“Jesus you walk fast.” You freeze as an out of breath but still very familiar British accent comes from behind you. “I have to-”

“Leave me alone. That’s what you have to do.” You tell him as you turn around so you can face him, and instead of the confused expression you were expecting he’s just grinning and running a hand through his hair as if he didn’t register the words that just came out of your mouth in as harsh of a tone you can manage while also trying not to panic.

“Actually I have to-well I guess I can start by just saying I love you.” You nearly choke on the air you take in to try to calm yourself down as the words fall so casually out of the man’s mouth. “Like proper madly in love with you. I just-I had to tell you before my heart exploded or something because that’s what it feels like right now-like I’m gonna explode if I don’t just tell you how much I love you. And I do you know? Love you. So much.” He goes on to explain as he reaches the hand with the small cross tattoo out towards you, the red and pink rose bouquet it in.

“I don’t know you.” You say slowly hoping maybe it’ll help the words sink in, but to your shock the man just lets out a chuckle as he gives the roses a small little shake making you stare at him as you quickly reach out and take them from him.

“I’m Harry.” He says warmly a smile still on his face as you give him your name in return, taking a step towards you that has you instantly backing up two steps wanting to keep some distance between the two of you. “You’re-you’re my soulmate.” You blink a few times trying to take in the words he just said and Harry takes full advantage of the moment and closes the gap between the two of you, grabbing your hand in both of his so he can bring it up to his lips to place kisses to your knuckles.

“Excuse me.” You watch a pout form on his face as you snatch your hand out of his grasp. “We are not soulmates that’s not-” your words get caught in your throat as Harry falls to his knees right in front of you, grabbing at your hand once again and bringing it up to his lips and then suddenly his nose is running up and down the inside of your wrist and you feel your whole body stiffen when you hear what you swear is the softest, faintest moan come from him as he takes a big inhale.

“Fuck you smell absolutely divine. Like-like oranges dipped in sugar that were left in the forest.” His words have the wheels in your brain turning, he lets out a small pathetic sounding whine when you once again free your hand from of his grasp. You shove the flowers into his face, his hands instantly coming up to grab them so you can dig around in your tote bag, your eyes narrowing when you find the small roller ball floating at the bottom of it. “Please don’t walk away again. I love you so much I can’t-I won’t survive if I have to watch you walk away from me again.” Harry’s voice is borderline begging as you grab the small roller ball from your bag so you can take a look at it.

“Okay just get up and,” you let out a sigh as you look around to see if anyone is paying that much attention to the fairly dramatic scene the two of you are causing in the middle of an aisle at a semi crowded farmer’s market. “Follow me.” You tell him making him let out a sigh of relief as he stands up, still holding your flowers and now supporting an even bigger grin on his face than when you first saw him.

“Okay. I’ll follow you anywhere.” You roll your eyes at how serious he sounds as you turn so you can lead him towards the exit, the roller ball securely held in your hand and you nearly let out a shriek when you feel Harry slide his hand over your lower back before sliding it into the back pocket of your jean shorts pulling you into his side.

“What the hell?” He stops walking making you do the same as he quirks a brow at you, his jaw tightening as he looks around the market, completely oblivious to the way you’re glaring at him.

“What’s wrong? Someone bothering you?” The way his voice goes deeper and has a rough edge to it has your heart doing a weird flip, he pulls you even closer to his side as his eyes continue to scan the crowd. You watch the way his eyes go darker and you have to shake off the oddly comforting feeling you get knowing this random man named Harry that you’ve known for five minutes looks as if he’s ready to murder anyone who dares to bother you.

“Yes. You.” You say annoyed making him look down at you as you roll your eyes and start walking again making him have no other choice but to do the same.

“I’m bothering you? I’m sorry.” His voice is full of regret as the two of you walk through the exit, you stop walking once the two of you reach the edge of the parking lot. “I don’t-god baby bothering you is the last thing I want to do. I’m sorry please forgive me. I’ll be better just tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you.” Harry tells you with nothing but pure emotion in his voice, his hand sliding out of your pocket and up to your hip as you turn so you’re now facing him.

“You’re fine I just-I need a moment okay? Do you mind giving me some space?” Harry’s face looks almost pained as he gives you a small nod before he takes a step backwards. “Uhm maybe a little more? Like five steps backwards?”

“But-but then I won’t be able to reach you?”

“Uh yeah-but you’ll still be able to see me.”

“That’s true.” The hand that’s holding the flowers falls down to his side as he lets out a sad sigh. “I’ll miss you.” You have to rub your lips together to hold off the small laugh that wants to bubble up from your chest as you watch Harry’s frown get deeper and deeper with every step he takes backing away from you. He lets out a sad sounding whine when his hand finally has to fall from your hip and land at his side as he takes the last few steps away from you.

“Perfect.” You tell him with a smile that he returns eagerly while giving you a little wave. With a little chuckle you look away from him and down at the bottle in your hand, your eyes squinting when you read the hand written label on it. “Soulmate smells? That’s an odd name.” You mumble to yourself as you try to think back to when you bought it an hour or so ago right when you entered the market. You close your eyes as the memory starts to replay in your mind.

“You like it?” You smile and nod at the man behind the small table of perfume oils. “That’s a special blend.” He tells you as you look at the small bottle, liking how it smells a little like fresh citrus but also a tiny bit sweet all blended with a slightly musky scent.

“It smells amazing.” He smiles and nods as he gently takes the bottle out of your hands, he gives you a look that has you nodding before he rubs a bit of it onto the inside of your wrist.

“It’s a soulmate smell so only you and whomever your soulmate is will be able to smell it the same way.” You just nods as you bring your wrist up to your nose to get a whiff of how it smells on your skin. “It might have them acting a bit-obsessive but that’s because it’s a potent blend but they’ll be fine after a few hours or so.” He explains with a laugh as you just grab the bottle from him and rub a few more dabs of it on your wrist.

“Careful not too much okay? If your soulmate is anywhere near here they’ll be very determined to prove their love to you.” He warns as you hand him your card so you can purchase the perfume from him.

“If they’re my soulmate I’ll feel the same though right?” You ask making the man just laugh and nod his head as he hands you back your card.

“Yes you’ll feel the same-eventually.”

“Holy shit.” You bring a hand up to your forehead as you start to understand why this green eyed British man named Harry is suddenly confessing his love to you, he really is your soulmate. “You’re my soulmate.” You mumble making Harry get a giant goofy looking grin on his face as he starts to walk back over to you.

“Isn’t it great?” He asks once he’s right in front of you. “I’m going to be so good to you baby-I promise.” And for some odd reason you believe him, so in a moment you can only describe as either a brief bout of insanity or genuine curiosity you reach your free hand out and grab his, interlocking your fingers with his.

“I guess this means we should get to know each other?” You question making Harry nod and before you can say anything he is turning and leading you towards a black Range Rover. “Uh where are-”

“My place.”

“Your place?” Harry just nods as he opens the passenger side door for you after placing your roses on top of his center console.

“Is that okay?” He asks in a worried tone as he helps you into the car, taking your tote bag from you after you slip the roller ball back into it. “God I’m already fucking this all up aren’t I? I’m sorry I swear-”

“No-no your place is fine.” You tell him deciding that maybe for right now it’s best he doesn’t know where you live just in case he turns out to be a special brand of crazy you don’t ever want to deal with again. Harry smiles and you feel your cheeks get hot as he leans over and places his lips to your cheek before gently placing your bag in your lap and closing the door. “This is going to be interesting.” You mumble to yourself as Harry rounds the front of the car and climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Pick whatever radio station you want sweetheart what’s mine is yours.” He says with a genuine smile as he picks up the roses and puts them on the seat in the back so he can reach over and place a hand on your thigh, as if it’s the most natural thing ever and he’s done it a thousand times. You look down at it and have to bite your bottom lip at how nice the weight and warmth of his hand feels on your skin.

“I love you.” His voice is soft and smooth as he gives your thigh a little squeeze before he pulls out of the parking lot. You place a hand over his and give it a small pat, your silent response since you’re not really sure what to say. He turns his head to look over at you, his bright eyes meeting yours briefly so he can flash you a dimpled grin before turning his attention back to the road as if he knows you’re not ready to say it back but you swear there’s a certain glint in his eyes that tells you he knows you’ll say it eventually, but the fact you’re sitting in his passenger seat is good enough for him right now.

It’s been an hour since you got the “welcome to your future house” tour from Harry and since then you’ve managed to learn quite a bit about him. One of the main things is that he’s in the music industry but that’s all the information he really gave you time to process before he practically dragged you onto his lap after plopping down on the couch and began telling you random facts about himself. Such as his birthday, favorite color which just so happens to be the exact same color of your eyes, where in England he grew up and how he talks to his mom everyday and has a sister he wishes he could spend more time with. In return you gave him the basic rundown on yourself, he quite enjoyed learning your job lets you work remotely because in his mind that means you’ll be able to work from his home, but you ignored that and continued to tell him things you thought he might want to know about you, but it turns out he wants to know everything.

One of the main things you’ve figured out about your soulmate is that he is extremely handsy and he will actually pout if you get too far away from him making it impossible for him to be touching you in some way. You think that maybe it’s just due to the odd reaction he’s having to the perfume you put on almost two hours ago but something deep inside of you thinks that this probably is just a Harry thing. You let out a sigh as you stand in front of the sink in the kitchen, you don’t know how you managed to pry Harry’s hands off you long enough to walk out of the living room but he didn’t seem to mind that much after you fed him the excuse of wanting to get a glass of water. He did mumble something about not taking too long due to how much he’ll miss you but you just ignored it and continued on your way down the hall until you came up on his very white and very clean kitchen.

“I have a soulmate.” You whisper to yourself as you grip the edge of the counter in front of the sink. “He’s a little-odd but he’s nice right? Yeah yeah he’s nice he just-he’s just drugged or like high off the smell thing so-so we can’t judge him too harshly right?” You begin pacing as you talk yourself through the weird mix of emotions you’re starting to feel about the green eyed man that’s currently lounging on his couch being your soulmate. “He’s cute so-that’s a bonus. He’s attentive and uhm he opens doors-that’s rare these days and he has soft hands which is nice because he likes to hold hands-and really any part of the body he can reach and uh-uhm he seems sweet and-”

“You think I’m cute?” Harry’s voice coming from behind you makes you jump but before you can turn around to face him he has his hands gripping your hips pulling you into him until your back is flush with his chest. “And attentive?” He asks as his lips brush against the side of your neck making you let out a soft gasp when you feel one of his hands slide under the hem of your t shirt, resting on the soft skin of your tummy right above the waistband of your shorts.

“Y-yes.” You stutter as Harry’s grip on your hip loosens just enough so he can turn you around allowing him to grin at you as he stares into your eyes.

“Are my hands really that soft?” You don’t hear any hints of him teasing or messing with you hidden in his voice as his hands gently cup the sides of your face. “I use a special rose oil lotion every night before bed.” He explains as the pads of his thumbs softly run over your cheekbones, you let out a quiet chuckle at how genuine he is as he continues to divulge random facts about himself to you.

“Oh that sounds nice.” He smiles as he takes a small step closer to you, completely crowding your space now as he tilts your head upwards just slightly.

“If I don’t kiss you now I-I think my heart is going to give out because your lips look like they taste like heaven and I just need to feel them on mine.” You barely get to bring your hands up to grab onto his worn out t shirt before his lips are crashing into yours, his hold on your face sliding down to the sides of your neck as he walks you backward until you’re pressed up against the door of his refrigerator.

His lips are soft as they move against yours in a kiss that has your heart hammering in your chest and your lungs burning as they beg for air but you don’t want to pull away, not yet because you’ve never felt anything that feels the way Harry’s mouth feels on yours. You pull away making a whine leave Harry as one of his hands travels down to your hip, you let out a small squeal when you feel him grab at your thigh and hike your leg over his hip allowing him to take half a step closer to you. You take a few deep breaths and try to gain some sense of composure but then Harry’s lips are on your jaw, kissing and nipping their way down the side of your neck.

“You drive me fucking crazy baby.” His words are muffled as he presses his lips to the spot below your ear. “So perfect.” He says before he places a kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck. You close your eyes and instinctively tilt your head letting his have more access making him smile against your skin. “So pretty.” His breath is warm against your neck as he drags his lips across your skin as they make their way back up to your jaw. “And all mine.”

Your eyes snap open at his choice of words but before you can even think of arguing his lips are back on yours in a hungry kiss. Harry’s tongue slides into your mouth and you just swallow down his moan as you let him lick into your mouth. It’s the kind of kiss that’s full of want and a deep need, the kind of kiss that leaves you panting as you try to catch your breath when he pulls away.

“Harry we-”

“Say it again.” His voice is low and rough as he rests his forehead against yours, a hand still holding onto the side of your neck, his thumb pressing gently at the spot just below your ear. You feel a moan work its way up from deep in your chest as Harry’s hand gives your neck a small squeeze. “Please baby say it again. Say my name again.”

“Harry.” He lets out a groan as his name rolls off your tongue, his hand on your thigh moving to grab one of yours that’s gripping onto his shirt.

“This is what you do to me.” You feel your face get hot as he places your hand over the very prominent bulge in his jeans. “Been ready to burst since the moment I saw you-god you just came out of nowhere and suddenly it was like no one else in the whole world existed besides you and you looked so fucking pretty and-and fuck I fell in love with you right then and there in the middle of that market.” His words are a bit jumbled as you watch him try to maintain some sense of control, but you can tell he’s close to losing the battle he’s fighting with himself because the hand that’s pressing yours against his crotch presses your hand down harder until you’re fully palming him over his jeans.

“You really think you love me?” Your question sets something off in Harry, his eyes turn dark as he pulls back just enough so he can look you right in the eyes with the most serious face you’ve ever seen him make.

“Think?” He questions as his hands cup the sides of your face as he lets out a laugh and shakes his head making you swallow thickly. “No baby I don’t think I love you.” His voice is husky as he leans in so his lips are only a breath away from yours. “I know I do.” And with that his lips are pressing against yours in a kiss that’s no longer hungry and desperate but now just full of passion and a deep emotion and you know it’s Harry’s attempt at trying to make you feel just how much he loves you with every swipe of his tongue against yours.

Without warning Harry grabs your other thigh and hikes it over his hip so he can get a firm grip of your ass making you wrap your arms around his neck for support. You let out a small shocked noise that makes Harry laugh as he backs up, adjusting his hold on you so he’s sure he won’t drop you as he walks you out of the kitchen and down the hallway to a bedroom all while placing quick little kisses to your lips. He smiles at you when he pulls away leaving you feeling breathless as he gently places you onto his bed, your legs hanging off the end as he stands between them so he can lean over you and place a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Feel this?” You feel him grab yours hands and watch as his face softens as he places them on his chest, you feel the steady beating of his heart under your palms. “It beats for you-it’s yours just like everything else I have. It’s all for you because-because that’s how much I love you.” For the first time in your life you can’t think of anything to say, Harry’s eyes are locked on yours and you can not only hear the emotion in his voice but you can feel it in every word that comes out of his mouth. So when all you can do is nod, your way of trying to tell him you understand he gives you a grin in return and drops his hands from holding yours to his chest so he can once again lean over you.

“You get it now don’t you love?” He asks as he places a hand on either side of your head holding himself up. You bring your hands up to cup his face making him turn his head so he can place a kiss to the inside of your palm before his eyes find yours.

“Yes-I think I get it now.” Harry just playfully rolls his eyes as you pull his face down just a little so you can place a quick kiss to his lips.

“That’s not good enough for me baby.” His words have you feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement as he stands up making your hands fall to your sides. “Need to show you how I feel about you.” He tells you as his hands reach for the waistband of your shorts. “Can I do that sweetheart? Show you how perfect we are for each other?” His eyes search yours for any signs of disapproval and when all you do is give him a small nod he begins to unbutton them so he can slide them down until they land on the floor next to his feet.

You watch it all happen as if in slow motion, his hands grab the hem of his t shirt, effortlessly pulling it over his head letting your eyes take in his toned stomach and the scattering of tattoos on his chest and he watches as they travel down to the bulge in his pants. He lets out a groan as you lick your top lip before sinking your teeth into your bottom one while bringing your eyes back up to his face, you watch a smile take over as he reaches down to undo his jeans, his eyes never leaving yours as he works them down to his ankles so he can kick them off. He hovers over you and leans down so his lips are right next to your ear as your hands rest on top of his shoulders.

“Can I see you baby? All of you? Need to get a better look at this body that was made for me.” His voice is laced with a deep rooted desire that has your heart racing and an aching feeling for more of him beginning to grow low in your tummy.

“Okay.” You mumble as your hands begin to slide down his chest, feeling every inch of his toned stomach. “Yes you-you can see all of me Harry.” A soft moan falls from him as his name leaves your mouth, his lips kiss the side of your neck before he stands up making your hands fall to his hips. He watches in awe as you sit up a bit so you can take your shirt off followed by your bra that you just toss to the floor, you feel your cheeks get hot as his eyes take in the new parts of your body that you’re allowing him to see. Without looking at him you reach down to the waistband of your panties and lift your hips so you can start to take them off, Harry’s hands quickly taking over to help you slide them down your legs. You hear his breathing turn more rapid and in a moment of bravery you chance a look at him and you feel your whole body light up when his eyes slowly travel up from your exposed center to the curves of your breasts before finally landing on your face.

“Fuck you’re-you’re so beyond beautiful there’s not even a word to describe just how stunning you are.” You try to bring your hands up to cover your face so he can’t see how embarrassed you are under his intense gaze but Harry isn’t having it. “Don’t hide from me baby I’ve gone long enough without seeing your face.” His hands are gently gripping your wrists so he can move your hands, placing them down at your sides. He gives you a warm smile as he leans over and places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I gotta be honest with you sweetheart if I don’t come soon I’ll be borderline worthless the moment I feel that pretty pussy wrapped around me and-and I can’t have the first time we fuck or make love-or whatever you want to call it only last a few minutes.” You have to bite back a small laugh as Harry shamelessly admits how truly riled up he is and how close he is to coming undone.

“Do you need me to-”

“I don’t need you to do anything besides enjoy yourself okay?” You just nod and give him a silly smile as he makes quick work of sliding his boxers down, a groan leaving his mouth as he wraps a hand around his hard shaft and gives himself a few slow pumps. “I’m gonna make a mess all over you.” He says with a moan as he holds himself up with one hand so he’s leaning over you. “But don’t worry baby I’ll clean you up real good when I’m done.” His voice is deeper and rougher and you instinctively spread your legs a little wider letting him settle between them as he begins to give himself quicker more determined pumps with his fist.

Your eyes can’t help themselves as they travel down his body until they reach his long thick cock he has his hand tightly wrapped around. The sight making the dull ache in your lower tummy turn more intense as you try to imagine what it’s going to feel like when he’s inside you. You let out a soft moan when Harry runs the tip of his shaft up and down your slick folds, teasing both you and himself making him groan and close his eyes.

“So nice and wet for me already-it’s like your body knows who it belongs to doesn’t it baby? who it was made for.” Your response gets stuck in your throat as Harry lets out a loud moan and you feel the first warm drop of his release land on the front of your already soaked cunt. “Oh god-you look so good covered in me baby-fuck you’re so pretty.” His eyes are glued on your wet center as he spills his release all over your pussy, a soft whine falling from your lips as a few spurts land on your clit.

“If I wasn’t so madly and deeply in love with you I’d be a bit embarrassed at how quickly that happened.” He says with a breathy laugh as he tries to calm his heart down a bit and catch his breath. You just giggle and run a hand through his hair, oddly enjoying how honest he is with you even while the two of you are completely naked and partially covered in his release. “Are you okay my love? Do you need anything or can I eat your perfectly delicious looking cunt really quick before I properly fuck you?” Your eyes go wide at his bluntness and he gives you a dimpled grin before he lowers himself down so he’s on his knees, his hands gently resting on the tops of your thighs.

“I don’t-”

“Sorry baby do you prefer to call it something else? I don’t really like the whole making love thing since we don’t need to make love we already have it so-”

“It’s not that.” Harry quirks a brow as he looks up at you from his spot between your legs, your heart swells when you feel his hands soothingly run up and down your thighs. “I just haven’t uhm no one’s ever-”

“I understand love.” His soft voice and hands gripping your knees stop the rest of your sentence from coming out. “I’m not going to lie I quite like the fact no one else has gotten to get a taste of what’s mine-I have a little bit of a jealously issue so knowing I’m going to be the only one that gets to enjoy this part of you is doing wonders for me.” You don’t get much time to respond before Harry is leaning in and placing open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll be gentle baby don’t worry and if you don’t like it tell me or-better yet just give my hair a good tug and I’ll stop.” You barely get finished nodding at him when you feel his tongue lick a hot stripe right up the middle of your cunt.

Your hands reach out and grab the sheets as Harry lets out a deep moan that sends a pleasant vibration through your core. As soon as Harry gets his first taste of your arousal mixed with a bit of his own all promises to be gentle get tossed to the side, not that he’s rough but he begins to lick and suck at you like a man starved and you’re the only thing that satiate him. You let out a moan of his name as he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, your hands daringly reach down and tangle themselves in his hair earning you a groan of pleasure from him.

“You taste so good baby.” His words are muffled but you hear them and you can’t help but feel an odd sort of satisfaction at the fact he enjoys how you taste. When he pushes his tongue and swirls it inside your soaked opening you feel the pressure begin to build in your lower tummy, he hums against you as you pull his hair making the tip of his nose bump your clit. “You like that? Like the way my tongue feels on your pussy baby? Want more?”

“Yes please-feels so good.” You answer with a small moan that has Harry smiling and kissing the inside of your thighs before he goes back to licking his release off your glistening folds. You arch your back and tighten your grip in his hair when he gives your clit a few well timed flicks with his tongue.

“So good-oh Harry that’s so good oh god.” Your words are a rushed mess as you feel the pressure finally snap making you let out a cry of his name as your climax hits you like a tidal wave. Harry moans against you as he tries to get every last drop of your release on his tongue so he can swallow it down, not wanting any of it to go to waste. You release your grip on his hair and bring your hands up to cover your face as you try to catch your breath.

“Shit baby you might just be my new favorite meal.” You let out a chuckle as you move your hands just in time to see Harry lick his lips as he stands up. “How was that? Be honest okay? We’re gonna be together forever so if there’s parts of that you didn’t like just tell me so I can do it better.” He tells you as he hovers over you, his face still a bit shiny with your arousal covering his chin. “I can’t have the love of my life not fully satisfied by the way I eat her pussy.”

“I mean you had me seeing stars by the end of it so I’d say it was good.”

“Good? Just good?”

“Great-sorry it was great Harry I swear.”

“You know I’d honestly rather die than know you found the experience of my head between your legs and my tongue deep in your cunt as just great-I’m looking for maybe amazing? Other worldly? I’d even take fantastic but great? Baby that’s-that’s not good enough for me.” He furrows his brows as he looks you in your eyes and when he starts to lower himself as if he’s about to give you another round with his tongue you reach out and grab hold of his face with your hands.

“It was so amazing they haven’t invented a word to describe how truly wonderful you made me feel.” Harry can’t help but grin at you as you use his own line on him.

“Fuck I love you.” He says with a laugh before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. “I need to be inside you baby-need to feel my big cock spreading your tight little pussy open.” You feel his hips roll into yours letting the tip of his hard cock nudge at your entrance. “Shit baby need it so bad please let me fuck you-please.”

“Okay Harry. Show me how perfectly made for each other we are.” He doesn’t waste anytime before he’s pushing the tip of his thick shaft into your warm wet cunt.

“Oh fuck.” He groans as he slowly pushes into you letting you feel every inch of him. “Oh god baby you-you feel heavenly.” He says with a moan as he closes his eyes once he bottoms out and you’re completely full of him.

“You-you’re so big.” Your words are strained as you claw at Harry’s shoulders making him let out a loud moan as his eyes open up while he pulls out just a bit and slowly pushes back in.

“I know and you’re taking it so well.” He praises before he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Only been inside you for a minute and I’m already addicted to how fucking good you feel-shit baby you’re never allowed to leave this bed.” He grunts as he grabs at the side of your thigh and hikes your leg over his hip. “Please just move in-I need to be inside this tight cunt all day.”

“H-Harry oh god.” You let out a loud moan as his pace begins to quicken.

“You feel that don’t you baby?” He asks as he leans down and places his lips to the side of your neck. “Feel how perfect we are together-how good we are together.” He mumbles against the soft sensitive skin of your neck as his thrusts turn more deliberate as if he’s trying to really prove his point with every swirl and rock of his hips making your mouth fall open.

“So good together.” You moan making Harry smile against the side of your neck as you wrap your other leg around him trying to pull him even closer. In that moment as you feel Harry give you a few harsh thrusts making the tip of his cock hit the spot that has your toes curling you begin to get overcome with a strong feeling of completion, as if being connected with Harry in this way feels like the final piece you didn’t even know you were missing to the puzzle that makes up your heart has been put in place.

Harry was the missing piece.

“I knew you’d feel it eventually baby.” Harry mumbles in your ear as he gives you a hard thrust of his hips. “Knew you’d love me by the end of the night.” He can’t hide the smugness in his voice as his lips kiss up your jaw until they are hovering right over yours. “Come on sweetheart tell me you love me and I’ll have you seeing more than just stars-I’ll have you seeing your whole future with me.” His eyes stare into yours, his hips still for a moment as you give him a smile that tells him exactly what you’re about to say.

“I love you.” Your voice is shaky and you barley get it all out before Harry’s lips are on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth like he can taste the words that just rolled of your tongue with every brush of his own against it.

“I love you too. So much-never letting you go.” He murmurs as his hips find a new pace, filled with a burning desire to have you come apart for him. “You’re mine aren’t you? Tell me you’re mine baby tell me this pussy is mine-these lips are mine. All of you is mine.” You let out a cry of his name as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, your walls clench around him as you come undone with a harsh thrust of his hips.

“Yes I’m yours-I’m all yours Harry.” You pant as he fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts turning quick and relentless as he chases his own release.

“Fuck-I’m gonna fill you up so nice you’re gonna feel me dripping out of you for days.” He groans as your name tumbles out of his mouth over and over as you feel the warmth of his release coating your walls deep inside you. “Oh god you’ve ruined me baby-never gonna be able to go a day without being stuffed inside of you now that I’ve gotten to experience it.” You let out a little giggle as he practically falls on top of you, feeling a sense of comfort from the weight of him being firmly pressed against you.

“I guess it’s a good thing you asked me to move in then.” You tease making his chest vibrate as he lets out a chuckle. Moments later you feel him let out a sigh as your hands start running up and down his back, you feel him begin to relax under your touch.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers as if he’s worried talking any louder might shatter the comfortableness of the moment the two of you are in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” That’s the last thing you remember saying before you close your eyes and drift off, sleep taking you quicker than you expected.

You let out a soft sigh as you stretch your limbs, the feeling of a velvety soft set of sheets under your hands has your eyes snapping open and your head lifting up from the pillow you were sleeping on. Your eyes dart around the room, a room you know very well isn’t yours but then you roll over to your side and you’re met with something solid, a chest to be exact. You stare at the butterfly that’s in front of your face and slowly reach out and place your hand on it, as if testing to see if it’s real life or still a dream.

“M’ticklish so watch those hands baby.” A deep sleep coated voice mumbles making your cheeks get warm as the arm that you just now realize is draped over you pulls you closer making you have no choice but to rest your head back down on the pillow so you’re now face to face with the green eyed man you spent the night with.

“Uhm good-good morning.” You say shyly making Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Good morning love-I said a lot of crazy stuff to you yesterday didn’t I?” He asks and when you just nod he lets out a groan as he turns his head to hide his face in his pillow. “I can’t be held responsible for everything I said you-you had this weird power over me.” You laugh and reach over to brush some hair out of his face when he turns to face you again.

“It actually was a uh perfume oil that I-”

“Oh god the sugary forest oranges-can’t think about how good you smelled or we’ll have a big problem to deal with.”

“So you uhm didn’t mean-any of it then?” Harry quirks a brow at you as you try to hide your disappointment, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as you lay in the arms of a man that you felt such a strong and loving connection with who is now possibly telling you it was all because of the perfume you had on.

“Oh baby no no that’s not what I meant.” You feel him pulling you into his chest as he rolls over to his back. “I meant everything I said I just normally wouldn’t have let all that out the first night we spend together that’s all.” He reassures you making you let out a sigh of relief, Harry places his lips to the top of your head. “You’re my soulmate love. The reason my heart beats-the air in my lungs and the one I’ve been secretly writing all my love songs about.” You smile against his chest as your hand draws mindless patterns over the skin above his butterfly tattoo.

“So you really love me?” You ask as you tilt your head so you can look at him.

“I love you so much I don’t even like it when you’re asleep because it means I can’t talk and love on you.” The way he’s staring straight into your eyes tells you he’s not joking but you can’t help but feel a small little giggle bubble up from deep in your chest making him let out a huff. “I sound fucking obsessive don’t I? But really I can’t help it. It’s just how I feel when it comes to you.”

“It’s okay Harry.” You give him a smile and it’s like he knows exactly what you want so he leans down until his nose is bumping into yours. “I love you too.” Harry smiles before you press your lips against his and you have to laugh as you pull away at how just a simple twenty four hours ago you were walking through a farmer’s market hoping to find some new little trinkets and some flowers but you ended up leaving with the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with.

[harry-stylesarchives]

Picture blurb timeeeee. Low key a little sugar-daddy ish because someone sent an ask a little bit ago asking about it so I thought I’d find my way into the dynamic a little.

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Warnings- daddy kink (it’s been a whole), power imbalance (boss x assistant),

“You really want to assist me?”

Sitting with his palm laid on his thigh, the other holding the glass of whisky, Y/N looked up at him from across his desk. The chair was pushed back and away from the expensive, dark stained oak he spent most of his days behind. It was late in the office and Y/N had just helped him finish the last of his emails that had been backed up, but it hadn’t been lost on her that he’d been a bit spacey the whole time.

“Hm?” She looked up at him with rounded eyes from the pile of papers she was trying to clean up on his desk.

“Said, do you really want to assist me?”

Y/N knew that tone of voice. The one that made her quiver, her knees shake. The tone he took on when he wanted her in ways that HR would have a medical emergency over.

“Of course I do, Sir.” Her voice was airy as she stood up straighter, clasping her hands in front of her neatly.

He’d trained her well.

“Of course you do.” He echoed her words with a husky chuckle, placing the glass down on the striped coaster Y/N had crocheted him. “Come t’me. You know where I want you.”

He wasn’t playing around today. There was no hiding it, the hands moving to the arms of his chair as he waited for her to sit on his lap. Apparently, the first attempt wasn’t correct.

“Ah- no. Other way.” He murmured, watching her turn around so she was truly on him now. His chest against her back as he lifted his hands to adjust her the way he liked it. “There. Knew you could listen. You always do a good job for me, don’t you Sweets?”

“I try my best, Sir.”

“Y/N.” He mumbled, brushing the hair away from her neck. “You know what t’call me when we’re doing this.”

“S-Sorry. I try my best, Daddy.” Her voice wavered not because of uncertainty- it was excitement. Giddiness. They hadn’t done this nearly all week. Hadn’t touched like this because they’d been truly busy doing the job they both came her for, and Harry had obviously been stressed.

“That’s my girl. You know how much I like that.” His nose brushed over her sensitive skin, down her neck as he placed a wet kiss to the curve of it where it met her shoulder. “You’ve always had a knack for knowing how t’please me. I’m so lucky.”

Y/N preened at the compliment, leaning back against him as she let some of the tension from the day melt away from her. Harry took care of her. He always took such good care of her, made her feel good, made her feel healthy and happy, and she wanted more. Greedy wasn’t her usually feeling, but he’d not even kissed her in the last two days and it felt like she was finally getting a fix. “I like making your life easier. Making you happy.” She replied, a shuddery breath leaving her as his hands ran over her thighs.

The skirt she wore had ridden up, but that wasn’t a problem. That was exactly what the man wanted.

“And you do. Such sweet little thing. You help me work, you help me relax, you help me thrive. You, my sweet angel… have done everything I’ve ever needed. And that’s why you’re mine.” He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t share, and he had no interest in anything or anyone else. It had seemed too good to be true at first given what she’d heard of his prior activities but it was true.

Given the fact she made his calendar, she knew it would be near impossible for him to do regardless.

“I’ve been going crazy all week. Don’t like it when we don’t get to have our time alone together.” He sighed, sliding his slightly cool hand up her skirt. There was no hesitation, no question about it as he teased the hem of her panties, feeling her squirm just a little. Knuckles brushed back and forth over the edge, a happy sound leaving his lips as he felt her tense just the slightest bit at the close proximity to where she wanted him the most. “I know you have been too. S’not fun to be too busy to give you my cock.”

As much as he obviously enjoyed work, the place she saw him happiest was when she woke him up with her mouth on his cock, taking him down the way he liked.

“I do miss it.” She replied, swallowing the moan she wanted to let out as he nudged his hand fully between her thighs to cup over her cunt. There was no doubt he could feel the damp fabric, the way her clit was most definitely pulsing now. Holding it like he owned it, owned her- and he did. Y/N would hand over every inch happily if it meant she got to be his. She had been his since the first time he’d lifted his eyes and asked her to get him a coffee. “I miss when we can’t be close.”

“God, you’re fucking sweet.” He shook his head in disbelief, his free hand curling over her breast. It seemed he truly didn’t get how he had her devotion at times, but it was easy. For as prickly as he was, he treated her right. After a string of awful circumstances when it came to dating, he managed to blow them all out of the water. “I’ve had half a mind to bend you over every time you entered the office. To get you under the desk and suck. But we were too busy. I think that we’re going to take a break.”

A break? That had her curious.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” She turned her face to look at him, smiling slightly when he nudged his nose against hers.

She loved when he smiled back at her. His dimples. His teeth. The way his eyes softened just for her. It wasn’t often she got them, but she was seemingly the only one who did.

“I think that I need an entire week t’have you all to myself. I don’t want anyone interrupting. I don’t want phone calls. I just want you.” Harry’s fingers tugged the panties to the side, the little mewl she let out when his thumb slipped over her clit making him hum. It had swelled, hot and slick underneath his fingertip as he played with her pearl. Just how he preferred. “We’re going to Italy. The coast. Rented a pretty pink boat for us, because I know you’d love it.” It had taken him a bit to find a pink boat that would fit his needs, but he’d done it for her. He’d buy it at the end if that’s what she wanted. “Going to have you as much as I want, as much as you want.”

A getaway wasn’t something she’d done with him. It was something he mentioned in passing but the actual plans had her giddy. “Really?” Her words were breathless as his other finger slipped into her cunt, making her squirm. “We’re gonna… we’re going?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, connecting their lips in a chaste kiss. “We’re leaving here, going to let you pack a bag, and we’re taking my plane. You’re going to sleep with my cock tucked up into you, and by the time you wake up we’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She grinned widely at him, only letting it fall as he curled his finger the way she liked. “I-I’ll make you so happy. I promise.” The concept of spending all that time with him alone was a reward in itself. A man who never took a real day off going off the grid to a yacht he booked because she liked the color of? It was far more than she’d expected.

“And I’ll make you happier, darling. Just wait n’see.”

[harry-stylesarchives]

the paramedic

Summary: You and your friend partied a little too hard, your friend more so. When things take a turn and the paramedics arrive, that’s when you see a calm, focused paramedic who immediately catches your eye.

Type: Blurb

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Author’s Note:

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Rebecca and I may have gone a little overboard at the party. We dared each other to take a shot every time a Pitbull song came on—Rebecca’s idea.

We hit five songs before one of us had to tap out. Rebecca didn’t. She was the life of the party, still going strong. But the mix of different liquors and nonstop dancing eventually caught up with her. It became clear she was showing signs of alcohol poisoning.

Drunk myself, I’m caught off guard by how quickly things turn serious.

“Call 911. Call 911,” I mutter under my breath.

The paramedics arrive within minutes.

While one checks on Rebecca, the other starts asking me questions.

“What is your name? What is your relationship to the patient?”

“How much has she had to drink?” “Did she eat or drink anything else recently?”

As he explains that Rebecca needs to be taken to the hospital for a full evaluation and treatment, I finally take a good look at him.

He’s stunning.

Tall. Green eyes. Curly brown hair. Tattoos. A deep voice. And a perfect smile.

Those were all the things I noticed as he spoke to me about Rebecca.

He mentioned the hospital we’d be going to, but I completely missed it—I was too distracted, watching his hands as he talked. Everything about him radiated this quiet, rugged confidence. It was incredibly attractive.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurted.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes widening just slightly.

Heat rushed to my face. Being drunk always came with a sudden burst of courage I couldn’t quite control.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to say that out loud—”

“That’s alright,” he said, unfazed, then smoothly picked up where he’d left off, explaining Rebecca’s next steps.

Even that was sexy. Unshaken. Calm. Professional. So grown. So sexy. Mature.

“Harry! I’ll ride in the back with her—her friend can sit up front.”

Harry nods and walks over to the passenger side of the ambulance. Without missing a beat, he opens the door and steps aside, gesturing for me to climb in.

I blink, surprised. I hadn’t expected that.

The ambulance is higher off the ground than I thought, but Harry quickly offers his hand to help me up. I take it without hesitation.

Once I’m in, he makes sure I’m buckled in properly, then checks in with his partner.

“All good?” he asks. With a nod from the back, he says, “Alright, let’s roll.”

It was mesmerizing to watch how traffic responded to the ambulance—cars effortlessly pulling aside as we flew through the streets.

I glanced to my left at Harry. The flashing red and blue lights danced across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw. His focus was intense, eyes locked on the road ahead.

“Come on, move,” he muttered, voice low, almost to himself.

He looked so effortlessly masculine—like he was built for this. Every inch of me ached for him.

In the quiet, I finally spoke. “Is Rebecca going to be okay?”

“I think so,” he said. “We see this kind of thing a lot. She’ll just need to rest and take it easy for a while.”

I didn’t want to feel relieved just yet. Not until Rebecca was out of the hospital.

Meanwhile, Harry being outrageously attractive was just… a lot to process.

“Did you call the ambulance?” he asked.

“I did. Yeah.”

“In your drunken state? That’s impressive,” he chuckled softly.

The buzz I had earlier was long gone. Between the shock of Rebecca’s condition, the adrenaline of the ride, and the fact that I was sitting next to a stupidly handsome paramedic I desperately wanted to climb like a tree—it all sobered me up fast.

A few more minutes passed before we pulled up to the nearest hospital. Harry’s partner jumped out, relaying Rebecca’s vitals and details to the ER staff.

Since I couldn’t go with her, I was left at the entrance, watching her disappear behind the sliding doors.

“Did anyone check you out?” Harry asked, turning to me.

“N-No?” I stammered, caught off guard again.

“Take a seat,” he said, motioning to a nearby chair.

I sat, and he knelt slightly to begin a quick assessment. As he leaned in to check my vision and take my pulse, a shiver ran through me. I could hear his steady breath—each inhale and exhale—and smell his clean, faintly spicy cologne.

His lashes were long, too.

He was absolutely, unfairly perfect.

His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary against the inside of my wrist as he checked my pulse. He cleared his throat and glanced down at his watch, jaw tightening like he was trying to shake something off.

“Pulse is elevated,” he murmured. I swallowed. “I wonder why.”

His eyes flicked up to meet mine—sharp, intense, electric. For a moment, neither of us said anything. The weight of the silence was suffocating, but not in a bad way. In the kind that makes your skin prickle and your stomach twist into heat.

He straightened, stepping back like he needed distance to breathe. “You’re okay. No signs of dehydration or shock, but I’d still take it easy.”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t listening to a word. My eyes were on the way his forearms flexed as he adjusted his gloves. Veins visible. Tattoos peeking beneath the edge of his sleeve. It was maddening.

“You’re very... attentive,” I said, unable to stop myself.

“I’m just doing my job,” he said, but his voice had that edge again—low and tight, like he was holding something back.

I stood slowly, trying to find my balance, but when I did, I was closer to him than I meant to be. Inches away. I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, the slight parting of his lips as his breath caught.

He didn’t move. Neither did I.

We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, neither one of us speaking. Something settled in the quiet—a kind of charged stillness. Not quite flirtation, not quite professional. Just… something.

Then, almost like he needed to break the moment, his eyes flicked toward the ambulance. “Wait here,” he said, voice lower now. Rougher.

He turned abruptly and headed back toward the ambulance. I watched him, confused at first, until he reached into the front seat and came back with a spare bottle of water.

When he returned, he pressed it into my hand—not roughly, but firmly. Like he didn’t trust himself to linger.

“Drink it,” he said.

I nodded, taking it from him, the plastic cool against my fingers.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice quieter than before.

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on me just a second longer than necessary before glancing away.

I hadn’t expected him to stay.

After checking me over, I thought Harry would head out—back to the rig, back to his job, back to a life that had nothing to do with mine. But instead, he sat in one of the uncomfortable ER waiting room chairs across from me, his jacket shrugged off and resting on the seat beside him.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” I said after a few minutes of quiet, eyes flicking toward him.

He looked up from his phone and gave a small shrug. “Shift’s pretty much over anyway. Figured I’d wait until there’s an update.”

"What about your partner?" I suddenly remembered.

"Clocked out the second medical staff took Rebecca. Left me the vehicle,"

Oh.

I didn’t know what to say to that. It was a kind gesture for him to stay, but it was not something I was used to. Especially not from someone who didn’t know me, who had no real reason to stay.

“Thanks,” I said finally, tucking my knees up in the chair. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah,” he replied, voice casual, “but it felt weird just leaving.”

We sat in companionable silence for a while after that. The waiting room was a blend of fluorescent lighting, low murmurs, and the occasional overhead announcement. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I started to come down from the adrenaline.

I sat back in the stiff chair, exhaustion pulling at my eyelids heavier than I expected. Before I knew it, sleep was creeping in.

I felt the chair shift beside me, a warmth settling over my shoulders. I blinked open my eyes to find Harry draping his paramedic jacket over me.

The fabric was cool at first, then softened, wrapping around me like a shield. My short black dress left me exposed to the chill of the sterile room, but the jacket covered me comfortably—warm and just loose enough to keep me modest.

I looked up at him, still half-drowsy. He caught my gaze and offered a quiet, reassuring smile before settling back into his seat.

Eventually, a physician assistant came out and called for Rebecca's party.

Harry walks alongside me as we head to meet the physician assistant.

“She’s stable,” she said, smiling gently.

I glanced over at Harry as he stood next to me in relief, but his full attention was fixed on the physician assistant. His expression was serious, eyes narrowing slightly as he absorbed every word. There was something quietly reassuring about the way he listened—focused and calm—like he was ready to step in if needed.

“Granted, she is still a little out of it, but she’s doing okay. We’re going to keep her overnight for observation just to be safe.”

Rebecca was going to be okay.

When the physician assistant left, I turned to Harry. “So... I guess that’s it. She’s staying overnight.” I paused, the weight of logistics slowly settling in. “And I have no ride home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t come in your own car?”

“No, we Ubered to the party... and, well, clearly didn’t think the night would end here.” I looked around the room, trying to figure out what my next step even was.

Harry stood up and stretched a little. “I’ve gotta bring the ambulance back to the station anyway, grab my car from the lot—it’s only a few blocks from here.”

I looked at him, surprised again. “Are you saying you’ll drop me off?”

“If you want,” he said with a small, easy grin. “I don’t mind.”

There was a brief moment where I hesitated, not because I didn’t trust him, but because I did.

I nodded. “Yeah... yeah, okay. Thanks. That’d help a lot.”

He picked up his jacket and gestured for me to follow. “Let’s get out of here.”

Outside the hospital, the night air was cool, a gentle contrast to the stale fluorescent lights inside. We made the short walk to the ambulance, and he opened the door for me, just like before.

“Hop in,” he said softly, holding the door wide.

I smiled, grateful for the familiar gesture. The ambulance was still higher than I recalled, but he was quick to offer his hand again, steady and sure.

Once I was settled inside, Harry leaned over and clicked my seatbelt into place. The small motion felt intimate in a way words couldn’t capture.

“All set?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine.

I nodded.

We pulled away from the hospital and drove the few blocks to the ambulance station. Harry parked and grabbed the keys, then led me toward his car—a large black SUV waiting in the lot.

As he started the engine and pulled away, I couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he handled the wheel—steady, confident.

The city lights blurred past as we drove through the quiet streets, the silence between us comfortable but charged, filled with everything neither of us had said yet.

We pulled up to my apartment complex, the familiar building coming into view under the soft glow of the streetlights. Harry stopped the engine, and the quiet hum of the city settled around us.

I turned to him, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks for the ride.. and for staying with me tonight.”

He met my gaze, his eyes steady and unreadable for a moment. Then, just as I was about to open the door, he reached out and gently took my hand.

I froze, surprised by the sudden contact.

His eyes searched mine, like he was weighing something heavy in his mind.

Before I could say anything, he leaned in and kissed me.

The kiss was slow, deliberate—nothing rushed. At first, I was caught off guard, but then I melted into it, the tension between us finally unraveling.

When we pulled apart, his breath was warm against my skin, and his eyes were dark with something unspoken.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he said quietly.

I smiled, heart pounding. “Me too.”

“I’d like to see you again,” he said.

My heart skipped. “I’d like that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, going to the dial pad. He held it out toward me.

“Put your number in,” he said, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

I took the phone carefully, my fingers hovering over the screen before I started typing my digits. The phone felt warm in my hands, like it was somehow already charged with possibility.

When I finished, I handed it back to him. He glanced down, then tapped the call button.

The phone rang once—then twice—before I heard it ring softly in my pocket.

He looked up at me, that same easy smile playing on his lips. “Now you have my number too.”

I looked forward to seeing him again. I had a good feeling about him.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[harry-stylesarchives]

Cotton Candy.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!!

authors note - i couldn’t not write about this lol, so enjoy whatever my brain has come up with !!

word count - 1.3k

in which, it’s a wednesday night, and what better way to spend it then in your boyfriend now fiancé’s pink boat, surrounded by all of your friends to celebrate your engagement, not realising that it’s going to go into the morning.

It’s a Wednesday night, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like Saturday cranked up to eleven, like a pink dream that smells like saltwater and champagne, lit up by the soft hum of fairy lights strung across the deck of your fiancé’s catamaran.

His pink catamaran, of course—named Cotton Candy, because that’s exactly what it looks like: fluffy, sweet, and just a little ridiculous.

The champagne corks popped hours ago. You can’t remember how many. The sky’s turned that early morning steel-blue, where the stars have mostly vanished but the sun’s still shy. The horizon’s bleeding color.

You’re barefoot, tipsy—or no, scratch that—you’re absolutely smashed out of your head. Standing at the drinks table like it’s your only anchor to the waking world, plastic cup in hand, trying to remember if you’re refilling it or just staring into it like it might answer the secrets of the universe.

Your hair’s a mess. Someone braided flowers into it earlier, and now the petals are wilting beautifully down your shoulder. You’re wearing a silky white coverup over your swimsuit that you think used to be clean. It’s tied all crooked and the hem’s damp. Who cares? You’re engaged. You’re so in love.

And the boat—this beautiful, bouncing pink party palace—is alive. The DJ’s still going, some dreamy house remix of a song you both used to blast in the car. Your friends are scattered everywhere—on the upper deck, curled in lounge chairs, slow-dancing barefoot like sea-drunken ghosts, or shouting-laughing down in the galley, still going on tequila and whatever’s left of the charcuterie board.

You sway a little too hard and grip the edge of the table, giggling at yourself. And that’s when Madi appears beside you, holding two cups. Her eyeliner’s smeared and she’s grinning like the moon.

“Babe, you good?” she asks, pushing a drink into your hand.

You take it. Raise it. “I am transcendently good. Did you know I’m engaged now? Like, actually? To him?”

You point in the vague direction of your fiancé, who is currently arm-wrestling your cousin in a beanbag chair.

Madi laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I was literally there when he proposed. On this boat. Four hours ago.”

“Oh my god, was it four hours ago?” You look at her with wide eyes. “It feels like two weeks.”

“You sobbed. Like hard. I’ve never seen you ugly cry in HD before.”

“I blacked out during the speech. Did he say something about forever? There were stars. Or maybe sparklers.”

“He said,” Madi mimics in a dramatic, dreamy tone, “‘You’re the only person I’d ever want to eat cereal on a boat with at 3 a.m.’ It was disgusting. We all cried.”

You laugh so hard your drink sloshes onto your toes. “That’s so him. He still eats dry Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of the box like a raccoon.”

“And you’re gonna marry that raccoon.”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

There’s a lull in the music. Then the beat drops again—something thick and wavy that vibrates the floor under your feet. Someone cheers. Someone else cannonballs into the water, fully clothed. You hear the splash and a scream. You don’t even look. Nothing could surprise you tonight.

“Hey,” Madi says, turning toward you seriously. “I’m really happy for you. Like, actually. I’ve known you through so much bullshit, and I’ve never seen you light up like this.”

Your throat catches. It’s the drink. Or the hour. Or her. “Stop. I’m already crying again.”

“I mean it.” She clinks her cup to yours. “To ugly crying and raccoon husbands.”

And then the smell hits you: a mixture of saltwater, cedarwood cologne, and faint remnants of his ridiculous peach margarita. You’d know that scent anywhere.

“Fiancé,” comes a low, husky voice in your ear, slightly slurred but very pleased with himself.

You grin immediately. “Oh, hi.”

Madi smirks. “And there he is. The raccoon groom himself.”

“Oi,” Harry says, lifting his head lazily from your shoulder and squinting at her. “You love me.”

“I tolerate you,” she teases, sipping her drink as she wanders off, leaving the two of you in your own private little orbit.

He spins you around to face him, his eyes glossy and a little too wide from alcohol and emotion. His curls are a mess from dancing and the sea breeze, his shirt’s unbuttoned halfway down (per usual), and there’s glitter stuck to the corner of his mouth.

“Can I steal you?” he asks, all earnest and a bit wobbly on his feet.

“You already did,” you say, mock-swooning. “In 2019. I have the receipts.”

He snorts and takes your hand. “Come on. Before I cry in front of the hummus again.”

You follow him through the soft-lit chaos of the party, hands brushing, hearts very full, and out onto the open deck. It’s quieter here. Just the hum of the ocean and the muffled bass from inside.

The sky’s gone from deep navy to a tender peach-pink, like the boat’s trying to match the sky now. The first birds are chirping faintly in the distance. And everything smells like sea air and champagne and a new life starting.

Harry turns to face you, swaying slightly. His eyes are glassy. His lips part like he has a speech prepared, then close again. He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“You said yes,” he says finally, voice thick.

“I did,” you whisper, smiling like an idiot.

“To me,” he adds, shaking his head slowly like it’s unfathomable.

“You’re you” you laugh, stepping closer. “You’ve had a boat named after a candy. You wear glitter like a weapon. You once cried during Paddington 2. You’re the most ridiculous, most perfect man I’ve ever met.”

“I did cry during Paddington 2,” he admits, then frowns. “That scene in the prison with the marmalade, it just got me.”

You burst out laughing and lean your forehead against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than you thought was possible while still standing.

“I’m so drunk,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I know,” you reply.

“I love you so much it feels illegal.”

“I love you so much I think we might’ve accidentally gotten married in my head already.”

“That’s fine. Let’s be married in your head and engaged on a boat and maybe later we can just… make out in a closet for a bit?”

“A closet on a boat?”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you with a goofy, wine-sweet grin. “We can build one.”

You snort and rest your hands on his chest. “You’re so soppy when you’re drunk.”

“You make me soppy,” he says, brushing a thumb along your cheekbone. “You make me stupid. I wrote a whole song about you last week and it was just four minutes of me going, ‘She’s got great teeth’ on loop.”

“I do have great teeth,” you say proudly.

“The best,” he whispers, kissing you gently, slowly. He tastes like gin and sugar. “Promise me we’ll always be this soppy, even when we’re old and wrinkly and yelling at the dog.”

“Promise,” you whisper back, forehead to his.

And for a moment, it’s just you and him and the sea, spinning slightly, soppy and sunkissed and drunk on love—and the actual drinks too, obviously.

In the background, the DJ switches to a slow, sparkly remix of “Just the Two of Us.” Harry gasps like he’s just witnessed a miracle.

“Oh my god. Our song.”

“It’s not our song,” you laugh.

“It is now. Come on. Dance with me, future Mrs. Styles.”

And there you are, barefoot and tipsy, slow dancing on a pink catamaran at 5:43 in the morning, wrapped in Harry’s arms as the sky stretches into day. You think maybe this is what magic feels like.

And you think: God, I hope the night never ends.

[harry-stylesarchives]

Trouble

✨ summary: where harry’s a soft TikTok streamer and y/n happens to find his stream.

📝 word count: 11K

⚠️ content warning: smut

💌 support my work

Y/N stumbled through the door a little after ten, dropping her keys in the catchall with a tired clatter. Her feet were killing her. Her back hurt. Her brain felt like it was still stuck at work, replaying petty customer complaints and the awkward half-laugh she’d given her manager when he made that borderline gross joke.

She didn’t even bother with dinner. Just kicked off her shoes, peeled off her jeans, and crawled under the throw blanket on the couch with her phone. This was her routine on nights like this: half an hour of mindless TikTok before she convinced herself to brush her teeth and go to bed.

Half an hour usually turned into an hour. Or two.

She scrolled past dancing girls, recipes she’d never make, a video essay about why romcoms were secretly feminist, a guy cutting soap. It was all noise.

Then, almost by accident, she landed on a live.

The caption just said: “insomnia brain rot. talk to me.”

Only twelve people were watching. She hovered there for a second. Was it weird to pop into something so small?

But then the guy on screen — who looked about her age, maybe a little older, with messy brown hair pulled back by a ridiculous pink clip — laughed at something in the chat. It was a quiet, raspy sort of laugh that made something in her chest warm up.

He was lounging sideways on a couch, one socked foot tucked under the other knee, wearing an old band tee that had definitely seen better days. His accent was British, soft and a bit lazy, words sliding together like he couldn’t be bothered to crisp them up.

“Alright, next question,” he was saying, scrolling through comments. “Worst cereal of all time. And if any of you say Frosted Flakes, we’re gonna have a problem. Those are elite, don’t start.”

Y/N snorted, surprising herself. God, she must be tired.

On impulse, she typed:

bran flakes. taste like depression.

She almost clicked away before he’d see it, suddenly embarrassed. But then his eyes darted down, and he read it out loud, smiling.

“‘Bran flakes taste like depression,’” he repeated, trying not to laugh. “Oh that’s brilliant. You’re right, actually. Like chewing on your last shred of hope.”

He squinted at the username. “Who’s that, then? That’s a new one, innit? Welcome, love.”

A weird flutter went through her stomach.

Love.

He probably called everyone that. Still.

“Alright then,” he went on, still smiling to himself as he scrolled, “let’s hear more hot takes. Is honey nut overrated? I think it might be.”

Y/N settled deeper under her blanket, phone a little closer to her face, feeling the tight coil in her chest start to loosen for the first time all day.

She hadn’t planned to watch for more than a minute. But then he started talking about his day — how he’d tried to bake banana bread and burned the bottom, how he thought his upstairs neighbor had a pet goat (it was just a big dog apparently), how he couldn’t sleep lately because his brain wouldn’t shut up.

He kept scratching at the corner of his jaw when he was nervous. Made these little faces when he was reading comments. And when he laughed, really laughed, it was like he forgot the camera was there.

There were only fourteen people in the chat now. It felt… cozy. Like stumbling into someone’s living room at 2 a.m.

She didn’t even realize how long she’d been there until her phone buzzed with a low battery warning.

Y/N smiled, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Maybe she’d stay a little longer.

Y/N didn’t really mean to become a regular. It just sort of happened.

Every couple nights she’d check if he was live, and more often than not, he was. Always in that same sagging couch, always with that dumb pink clip holding his hair back, sometimes in glasses that made him look unfairly soft.

She’d plop down on her own couch in pajamas with a mug of tea, and it was like hanging out in someone’s living room. Well, his living room. Which had absolutely tragic curtains and a plant he frequently apologized to for nearly killing.

The chat was tiny. Never more than twenty people. A few usernames she recognized now, all of them forming this loose, late-night club of insomniacs and weirdos.

He’d started calling her “BranFlakes” sometimes, because of that first comment. Or just “trouble,” with this grin that made her toes curl under the blanket.

One night, he was leaning back against a pillow, phone balanced on his chest, scrolling through comments.

“So what’s everyone been up to today? Anyone do something interesting? Anyone commit light arson? Emotional or otherwise?”

Y/N smirked, typed, Define interesting. I didn’t get fired for flipping off a customer, so that’s my personal win.

He laughed — that soft, lazy sound that never failed to warm her up. “BranFlakes is in rare form tonight. Didn’t get fired, that’s the bar, huh? Love that for you.”

What about you? she sent. Burn anything down? Confess your sins.

He squinted at the screen, did that little half-smile. “Uh, I absolutely did. Tried to fix a leaky tap in the kitchen. Made it worse. Nearly flooded the place. Landlord’s gonna love that email tomorrow.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling. You’re useless.

“Oh, properly useless,” he agreed solemnly. Then his eyes flicked to the comments again. “Alright, your turn. What actually happened today? You sound more bitey than usual.”

Her stomach twisted a little. She didn’t usually get personal in the chat. It was mostly dumb jokes, snark, flirting that didn’t mean anything.

But he was looking right into the camera, waiting. Like he actually cared.

She sighed, typed, Just had a shit day. Work was hell. People suck. That’s it. I’ll live.

His face softened. He bit his bottom lip, drummed his fingers on his chest like he was trying to think of what to say.

“M’sorry, trouble,” he said finally, voice low and sincere in a way that surprised her. “People dosuck. Proper tossers, most of ‘em. But you don’t, alright? Just thought I should point that out.”

Y/N blinked at the screen. Her throat felt tight in that annoying way that meant if she opened her mouth, she’d probably make an embarrassing noise.

Thanks, she sent. You’re less useless than usual.

That got a grin out of him. “Oi, I’ll take it. Practically a love letter from you.”

A few minutes later, he’d moved on to reading someone else’s comment, but then paused, squinting at the screen again. “Hey — BranFlakes, do us a favor, yeah? Go get some water. Or a biscuit. Or something. You look knackered.”

She made a face at her phone. You can’t SEE me.

“I can sense you, alright? Psychic link. Don’t question it.”

Y/N laughed out loud, shaking her head, but set her phone down and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water anyway. When she came back, he was grinning like he knew he’d won.

“Good girl,” he teased, voice dropping just enough to make her stomach do a little flip.

Shut up, she typed, cheeks hot.

“Don’t think I will.”

When he finally ended the live, she got a DM almost immediately.

h: get some sleep, trouble. tomorrow will be less shit. promise.

She stared at it for a second, smiling like an idiot, then sent back,

y/n: no promises but i’ll try. don’t flood the kitchen again.

He sent a photo back. Just him with his face half-buried in his pillow, hair a mess, eyes soft and sleepy.

h: s’night then.

Y/N bit her lip so hard it almost hurt.

God, she was so gone. Over a boy she’d never even seen outside this little square on her phone. Over someone who didn’t even know what she looked like.

But she couldn’t stop. Didn’t even want to try.

Y/N hadn’t planned on it going this far.

It was supposed to be harmless. A little escape from the drudge of work and the ache of coming home to an empty apartment. But somehow it became the best part of her day.

They texted constantly now. Not just memes or stupid TikToks — though there were plenty of those — but long rambly messages about everything and nothing. About how she hated olives, how his favorite weather was the five minutes right before it rained, how sometimes he wondered if he was wasting his life talking to a phone screen at 2 a.m.

One night he sent her a voice note. Just a sleepy, “Hope your day was better, trouble,” all warm and raspy and impossibly close.

She played it about fifteen times.

Eventually she started sending voice notes back, her voice small and shy at first. He’d tease her — “didn’t know you were so posh” or “god, your laugh’s unreal, you know that?” — and it made her feel stupidly giddy.

It also made her softer. Less snark, more honesty slipping through in little cracks.

One night she was curled up on the couch in an old hoodie, hair damp from a shower, phone pressed to her ear listening to him. He was rambling about the neighbor’s dog again.

“So it’s official — it’s not a goat. Just a dog with… goatish tendencies. Barks like it’s got a personal vendetta against me, though.”

She laughed, tucked her knees tighter to her chest. “Maybe it does. Maybe you give off suspicious energy.”

“Oh, I’m definitely suspicious. But c’mon, who doesn’t want to bark at me a little?”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “Can’t argue with that.”

Then it got quiet. Not awkward — just easy, comfortable. She could hear him breathing, a little sigh as he shifted around wherever he was.

He spoke again, softer this time. “You sound tired. Long day?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Just work. Same old. I did have a customer yell at me because his sandwich was apparently ‘threatening.’ So that was new.”

Harry snorted. “Did it have a knife? Or just a bad attitude?”

“Bad attitude. Definitely. Lettuce was giving him a dirty look.”

“Cheeky lettuce.”

She let out a soft little huff, hugging her knees. “But it’s better now. Talking to you always makes it… less shit.”

There was a pause, then a quiet little, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her voice cracked around it, and she didn’t care.

“Same here, trouble. Don’t think you realize how much.”

They sat in that for a second, hearts thudding on either end of the line.

Then she blurted, “Do you wanna see me? Like actually see me? I mean, I could video call, or send a pic or something. You’ve never asked, but…”

His voice came back gentle, almost shy. “I’ve thought about it, loads of times. What you look like. If you’d be smiling when you text me, or rolling your eyes. But… I kinda like not knowing.”

“You like the mystery?” she teased, but it was so soft it was almost tender.

“Yeah, actually. Like… it makes me pay more attention to everything else. The way you say stuff. The weird shit you notice. Your laugh.”

Her heart felt too full, pressing up tight against her ribs. “You’re such a sap.”

“Oh, fully. Can’t even deny it.” He laughed under his breath, then went quiet again. “Don’t worry, though. When I finally see you, it’ll be worth the wait. Bet you’ll ruin me completely.”

Her breath caught.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just whispered, “Okay.”

He let out a little sigh, like it settled something in him. “G’night, love. Dream of suspicious sandwiches.”

“G’night, Harry.”

When she hung up, her face hurt from smiling. Her phone buzzed one last time.

h: and send me more voice notes tomorrow. m’addicted to your voice.

She squealed into her pillow like a teenager, then typed back with shaky hands.

y/n: only if you promise to keep telling me about your goat dog.

h: deal.

She fell asleep with her phone clutched to her chest, feeling like maybe — just maybe — she wasn’t so alone after all.

She was sprawled on her bed one evening, phone in hand, absently scrolling through photos of cats in funny hats, when Harry’s name popped up on her screen.

Incoming call.

Her stomach flipped. It always did, stupidly, like she was sixteen again. She answered with a half-smile already pulling at her mouth.

“Hey, trouble,” he drawled.

“Hey yourself. What’s up?”

He was rustling around on the other end. She could hear a cupboard door creak, then the distant sound of pouring water. Probably making one of his endless cups of tea.

“So… I’ve got a question. Might be a bit mad.”

“Coming from you, that’s not exactly shocking.”

He let out a soft laugh. “Fair. But listen — there’s this tiny con, kinda a meetup for streamers and random internet people. Not like a big Comic-Con thing. More awkward dudes in graphic tees and cheap coffee. It’s next month, just over in Georgia. I’ve got a little panel spot somehow, talking about building ‘authentic communities’ which is a joke ‘cause it’s me and, like, twenty people on TikTok.”

She grinned into her pillow. “I think your little community’s pretty damn authentic. Bunch of cereal snobs and insomniacs.”

“Exactly. My people.” He paused. She could practically hear him chewing his lip. “Anyway… was thinkin’ you could come? Meet me there? Only if you want. I know it’s a drive and all, but…”

Y/N’s heart was thudding so hard it felt like her chest might crack open.

“You want me to come to a convention?” she teased lightly, trying to keep her voice from squeaking.

“I want you to come see me,” he corrected, softer. “I wanna finally see you. And — alright, selfish — I wanna be the first to see your face. Not through a camera. Just… you, standing there, lookin’ all smug. Maybe roll your eyes at me in real life.”

Her throat was so tight it hurt. She rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Don’t make it weird,” he groaned, but he was laughing, nervous.

“You’re the one making it weird! Asking me to drive to another state to meet a boy I met on TikTok. What if you’re secretly a swamp goblin?”

“Babe, I’ve told you I’m a swamp goblin. At least three times. Full disclosure, I get cranky if I don’t have snacks.”

She laughed, pressing her fist to her mouth. “It’s just— it’s kind of a big deal. I mean, what if you’re disappointed?”

Harry went quiet for a second, then his voice came through low and certain. “Won’t be. S’not possible.”

She felt tears prick at the backs of her eyes, completely out of nowhere. God, she was pathetic.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She could hear the grin in his voice when he let out a breathless little, “Fuck. Can’t wait.”

“So what exactly does one wear to a nerd convention?” she asked, forcing a playful lilt back into her voice.

“Dunno. Something cute. Or come in a full Chewbacca suit, I’ll still fancy you.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Hey.” His voice dropped. “Just bring yourself. Promise?”

She swallowed hard. “Promise.”

“Good girl,” he muttered, and it was so low and fond it made her toes curl.

Later that night, she lay awake staring at her ceiling fan, heart pounding, phone clutched to her chest. She was really going to do this. Really going to cross state lines to meet a boy with floppy hair and a voice that made her stomach flutter.

Harry sent one last text before she drifted off.

h: m’counting the days already. try not to crash your car. i’d like to kiss you eventually.

He wanted to kiss her. She buried her burning face in her pillow, grinning like an idiot.

y/n: not planning on dying before you buy me a shit con coffee.

h: romantic. sleep tight, trouble.

She did. Better than she had in weeks.

Y/N started packing three days before she even had to leave. It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

Her bed was a disaster — jeans, crop tops, cardigans, shoes she’d never realistically wear to a sweaty convention hall. Her cat sat in the middle of it all, judging her with bored yellow eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, holding up two shirts. “Which one says ‘I might like you enough to kiss you but also I’m not desperate’?”

The cat blinked slowly, unimpressed.

She flopped down next to it, groaning. Her phone buzzed, and immediately her pulse jumped. It was embarrassing how fast she grabbed it.

h: tell me ur packing. otherwise i’ll come kidnap you myself.

She snorted, thumbs flying.

y/n: packing. but it’s not going well. i have no idea what to wear.

h: wear clothes. preferably.

y/n: you’re SO helpful.

h: m’just sayin, you’d look good in literally anything.

y/n: how do you know that?? you’ve never even SEEN me.

h: gut feeling. also ur voice is fit, so the rest of you must be too.

She made a strangled little noise and buried her face in a sweater.

y/n: stop. i’m already freaking out.

h: why?

y/n: idk. what if it’s weird? or awkward? what if you don’t like me once i’m standing right in front of you?

There was a pause. Three dots blinking. Then his reply came through.

h: listen to me carefully. i already like you. annoyingly so. it’s not gonna change because i see ur cute face in person.

She just stared at it for a long time, her heart doing stupid acrobatics in her chest.

y/n: you’re sappy.

h: i am. you’re stuck with it.

She typed back, her throat tight.

y/n: fine. but if i show up and you bolt i’m keeping your plant.

h: rude. that plant is family.

y/n: he told me he hates you actually.

h: he’s a liar and he needs water.

She laughed out loud. God, how did he make her feel so light?

h: pack something comfy for after. like when i inevitably drag you out for greasy food and keep you up all night talking.

Her cheeks burned.

y/n: okay. i will.

h: good girl.

She nearly dropped her phone.

The rest of the night she kept pulling clothes off hangers, putting them back, debating if she needed to shave literally everything. Her stomach was in knots, but in the best, most electric way.

The next morning, she texted him a picture of her suitcase.

y/n: packed. mostly. leaving tomorrow morning.

h: look at you bein all responsible.

y/n: i’m terrified.

h: i’m not. m’just excited.

She bit her lip, smiling like a fool.

y/n: what if i’m not what you pictured?

h: then i’ll change the picture. easy.

She didn’t know how to reply to that, so she didn’t.

Later that night, curled up in bed with her phone on her chest, he sent her a voice note. His voice was low, tired, a little scratchy.

“Hey. You’re probably asleep already. Just wanted to say… drive safe, yeah? Don’t rush. I’ll be there whenever you get in. And… I can’t wait to see you, trouble. S’gonna be worth it. Promise.”

She listened to it three times before she could finally close her eyes.

Tomorrow, she’d get in her car and drive across state lines for a boy she’d never met, whose voice already felt like home.

Y/N pulled into the hotel parking lot with her heart hammering so hard it felt like it might crack a rib.

The drive had been three hours of jittery adrenaline and overthinking every possible scenario. What if he didn’t like her? What if she said something weird? What if he didn’t even show up?

The hotel was surprisingly nice — not some grimy chain, but modern, with big glass windows and a little fountain out front. She checked in, mumbling her name to the woman at the desk, clutching her phone like a lifeline.

The room was clean, a little cold, with an aggressively cheerful painting of sunflowers on the wall. She tossed her suitcase on the bed and sat on the edge, hands clasped together so tight her knuckles hurt.

Her phone buzzed.

h: just got here. room’s tiny. i look like a giant tryin to get dressed in this mirror.

She snorted, a breathy laugh escaping her. Her hands were still shaking when she typed back.

y/n: i’m here too. hiding in my room. trying not to hyperventilate.

h: don’t hyperventilate. m’too selfish, i really wanna see you alive and breathing.

y/n: same.

h: my panel’s in like 30. after, meet me at the hotel cafe? it’s right off the lobby.

y/n: okay. i’ll be there.

h: sweet girl.

Her stomach flipped. She threw her phone on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

“Jesus Christ, get it together,” she muttered.

She paced the tiny space, chugged half a bottle of water, fixed her hair for the tenth time, wiped her clammy palms on her jeans. Finally she decided to go watch his panel — maybe seeing him from a distance first would make it less terrifying.

The convention space was downstairs, tucked behind a couple big double doors. She slipped inside quietly, heart racing. It was a small room, maybe fifty chairs, half-full. Harry was already on stage, perched on a tall stool with a mic in one hand, a bottle of water in the other.

She stopped dead in the aisle.

God.

He was in a thin dark tee that clung to his shoulders, hair pulled back in that same dumb clip, a silver ring flashing on his thumb when he gestured. He was laughing at something the moderator said, head tipping back, eyes crinkling.

She just stood there like an idiot, hugging her arms to her chest, watching him talk about “building safe corners of the internet” and how people deserved spaces where they could be weird without judgment.

He had no idea she was there.

No idea that the girl who’d been teasing him about cereal and goat-dogs and sending him nervous little voice notes was right in front of him, trying not to melt into the carpet.

When it ended, there was polite applause. Harry thanked everyone, flashed that grin that made her knees weak, then stepped down and disappeared through a side door.

Y/N slipped out with the rest of the crowd, heart in her throat, and made her way to the hotel cafe. It was early afternoon, empty except for a barista behind the counter and a young guy in a hoodie reading something on his phone.

She picked a corner table by the window, set her bag on the seat beside her, and stared out at the fountain.

Her phone buzzed.

h: done. headed that way.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands were clammy again. She wiped them on her jeans.

y/n: already here. trying not to pass out.

h: don’t. m’serious. i need you alive for at least ten more minutes.

She barked out a laugh that startled the barista.

Then another text came through.

h: also. you better still let me be the one to find you.

y/n: bossy.

h: i know. sit tight.

She curled up in her chair, arms wrapped around her middle, foot bouncing under the table. Every time the door opened, her heart lurched into her throat.

The guy across the cafe glanced up, gave her a polite nod. She tried to smile back, probably looked manic.

Her phone buzzed again.

h: where exactly are you?

y/n: corner table. window.

h: m’bout to ruin your life.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

When the door opened again, she knew. Couldn’t see him yet, but every nerve in her body lit up like it was hardwired to him.

Her heart was thundering. Actually thundering. She could feel it in her throat, her fingertips, her ears. Every nerve felt raw, hyperaware.

She kept fidgeting, smoothing her hands down her thighs, twisting the little ring on her middle finger. The young guy across the cafe gave her another awkward glance, probably wondering why she looked like she was about to jump out of her skin.

This is so stupid, she thought. It’s just Harry. You’ve talked to him every single day for months. He knows your favorite snack, your weird intrusive thoughts, the exact sound you make when you snort-laugh. This is Harry.

But it wasn’t just Harry. It was him. In real life. Not a voice on the phone or a little face on her screen, but flesh and blood and warm hands and — god — probably so much taller than she expected.

Her stomach did a wild flip.

The door to the cafe swung open again. She didn’t even have to look. It was like her entire body just knew.

She forced herself to lift her head anyway.

And there he was.

Standing in the doorway, scanning the room with wide, eager eyes. Hair perfectly imperfect with a curl placed perfectly across his forehead, wearing the dark tee from the panel, jeans ripped at the knee, arms full of tattoos, and phone clutched in one hand like he’d been texting her the entire walk over.

When his gaze landed on her, it was like the floor dropped out from under her.

His whole face transformed — eyes going wide, mouth parting, then breaking into the most ridiculous, glorious grin she’d ever seen.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed, mostly to himself. Then louder, “There you are.”

She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Just sat there staring at him like a deer in headlights, heart doing cartwheels in her chest.

“Not gonna stand up and greet me, then?” he teased, voice warm and bright and so painfully Harryit made her eyes sting.

She let out a helpless little laugh, pushed her chair back, and stood. Her legs felt like jelly.

Harry crossed the tiny room in three long strides. He stopped right in front of her, close enough that she could see the little bump on his nose, the tiny freckle on his jaw. His eyes were so green.

“Hi,” she managed, voice embarrassingly breathless.

He stared at her like he was trying to memorize every single inch of her face. Then his mouth curved into this soft, disbelieving smile.

“Hi, trouble.”

She laughed again, a shaky sound that was more nerves than humor. “You’re real.”

“Yeah. S’lookin that way.” His voice dropped a little, rough at the edges. “Can I — ?”

She didn’t even wait for him to finish. Just nodded, too overwhelmed to trust her own mouth.

He let out this tiny relieved laugh, then cupped her face in both hands, warm palms bracketing her cheeks, thumbs brushing under her eyes.

“Oh, fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. Then he was leaning down, pressing his forehead to hers, breath shallow.

She couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop trembling. Her hands found his wrists, holding on tight.

“You’re taller than I thought,” she whispered, which made him huff out a laugh against her skin.

“You’re shorter than I thought. Tiny little menace.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

She did. Pushed up on her toes and kissed him, soft and a little clumsy at first.

Harry made this wrecked sound, one hand sliding into her hair, the other dropping to her waist to haul her closer. His mouth moved over hers like he’d been waiting forever, savoring it, chasing every tiny shift of her lips.

When they finally pulled back, breathless and grinning like idiots, he rested his forehead against hers again.

“Worth the wait,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she said, voice catching. “Worth every damn second.”

They didn’t move for a second, still tangled up in each other’s breath, Harry’s hands cradling her jaw like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go.

Then he seemed to realize they were standing dead center in a mostly empty cafe, making out like horny teenagers. He let out a slightly embarrassed little laugh, dropped his hands from her face, but kept one warm palm resting on her hip like he couldn’t stand not to touch her.

“Alright,” he breathed, eyes still dancing all over her face. “Sit with me before I drag you back upstairs and absolutely traumatize the room next door.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m that easy,” she teased, trying to sound breezy even though her voice came out a bit wobbly.

“Oh, I’m counting on you being that easy,” he shot back, grin going crooked. Then he tugged gently at her waist. “C’mon, trouble.”

They settled back at her little corner table. Harry immediately scooted his chair so close their knees bumped, like he couldn’t help it. His leg pressed into hers under the table, warm and solid, grounding her in the best way.

“You’re staring,” she said after a minute, cheeks hot.

He didn’t even pretend to deny it. Just leaned back, smirked, eyes raking over her face. “Yeah. Been picturing this forever. Sort of unfair how much better it is in person.”

“Stop. You’re going to make me combust.”

“Mm, fine. For now.” He nudged her ankle with his foot. “Order something. We’ll do this proper, yeah? Coffee and awkward small talk before I tell you again how pretty you are.”

She let out a shaky laugh, flagging down the barista. Harry ordered something complicated and way too sweet. She ordered a simple latte because her hands were still trembling and she was terrified she’d spill anything else.

When the barista left, Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands. “So. Be honest. Am I taller than you thought?”

“Only a little. I mean, I knew you had to be tall with that tragic camera angle you always use. Could never see half your face.”

“Oi, it’s artsy! Mysterious!”

“It’s lazy. You’re lazy.”

He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Maybe. But you still fell for me, so joke’s on you.”

She rolled her eyes, but under the table, she slid her foot along his calf. His eyes went molten.

“Y’know, when I first saw you across the room…” he started, then trailed off, swallowing hard. “Christ. My heart actually stopped. I thought, that’s her. That’s my girl.”

Her own heart lurched painfully, and she reached across the table without thinking, catching his hand. He squeezed back immediately, thumb stroking over her knuckles.

“And you,” she said softly, trying to steady her voice. “You’re somehow exactly what I pictured and also nothing like it. It’s weird.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I dunno. You’re just… more. Louder. Warmer. More real.”

His smile went soft, almost shy. “M’glad. Was worried maybe you’d take one look and run for the hills.”

“You’re an idiot if you think that.”

He squeezed her hand again, brought it up to press a warm kiss against her knuckles. “Well. Lucky for me, you seem to like idiots.”

She laughed, but it cracked into something breathless.

Their drinks came, and they pretended to care about them, but neither let go of the other’s hand for more than a second.

“You’re still staring,” she whispered at one point, cheeks aching from smiling.

“Yeah. Not plannin’ to stop anytime soon, either.”

“Good.”

Harry’s knee bounced against hers, eyes flicking down to her mouth before dragging back up. “After this, wanna go somewhere quieter? Walk around outside maybe? Or— I dunno. I’m not ready to let you go back to your room yet. Might actually die.”

She squeezed his fingers, heart tripping all over itself. “Yeah. I’d like that. Really.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said again, laughing through it. “God, you’re such a sap.”

“Hopeless. Absolutely ruined by you.”

They stayed like that a while longer, hands twined on the table, feet tangled under it, Harry stealing these small, soft looks at her that made her want to crawl into his lap and never move.

It was like all the months of voice notes and texts and teasing had collapsed into this tiny sunlit moment, just the two of them, finally real.

They finished their coffee in slow, distracted sips, talking about absolutely nothing and everything, fingers tangled so tight it was like neither of them trusted the moment enough to let go.

When Harry finally stood, he didn’t even wait for her to gather her bag properly. Just laced their hands together and tugged her up with this boyish, impatient grin.

“C’mon. If we stay here any longer, I’m gonna climb over the table and get us both banned from the hotel.”

She snorted, cheeks going hot. “That’s one way to start off our weekend.”

“Mm, not quite the meet-cute I had in mind, but tempting,” he teased, pushing open the glass door and guiding her into the lobby.

They stepped outside into the afternoon sun. It was warm and bright, the fountain burbling nearby. Harry didn’t let go of her hand once, thumb brushing lazy little circles over her knuckles like he couldn’t help it.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” she said after a minute, heart still tap dancing against her ribs.

“What does?”

“This. Being… together. In real life.”

Harry smiled, soft and a little crooked. “Yeah. But good weird. Like I’ve been walking around waiting for something to happen, and it’s just… this. You. Finally here.”

She ducked her head, biting back a grin. “Stop. You’re gonna make me cry and I just put mascara on.”

He laughed, then pulled her gently toward the little path that circled the hotel grounds. It was quiet, dotted with benches and tiny blooming shrubs, just enough to feel like they had a bit of privacy.

“So,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his. “What was your first thought when you actually saw me sitting there?”

“That’s trouble,” he answered instantly, then shot her a playful look. “But also… fuck me, she’s pretty. Too pretty. Like I was gonna have a heart attack before I even got over there.”

She covered her face with her free hand, groaning. “God, why are you so good at this? You’re supposed to be awkward and weird and make me feel better about my life choices.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m plenty awkward,” Harry said with a grin. “I just hide it well. I’m currently terrified you’re gonna realize you’ve made a tragic mistake and run off with the barista instead.”

“Not likely,” she shot back, but her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “You’re stuck with me, sorry.”

“Good. I like being stuck with you.”

They walked a little further, hands still twined, arms bumping. Harry kept sneaking these little glances at her like he couldn’t help it — eyes darting to her mouth, her hair, her shoulders.

At one point, he stopped dead, tugged her gently so she stumbled into him.

“What?” she laughed, palms flattening against his chest. God, he was warm. Solid.

Harry just stared down at her for a long second, jaw working. Then he let out a low, helpless sort of noise, dropped their joined hands so he could cup her face again.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Can’t — I just—”

Then he was kissing her.

It was different than in the cafe — slower, deeper, almost reverent. Like he was trying to memorize exactly how she tasted, the way she sighed into his mouth, how her hands fisted in his shirt to drag him impossibly closer.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping a little, he rested his forehead on hers and let out a soft laugh.

“You’re gonna wreck me, trouble. Completely ruin me for anyone else.”

Her heart squeezed so tight it hurt. She slid her hands up to his jaw, thumb tracing the edge of his smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “That’s the plan.”

Harry laughed again, kissed her once more — quick and sweet — then grabbed her hand and started walking backwards, pulling her along.

“C’mon. Wanna show you the pathetic little vendor hall. Gotta prove I’m a real internet loser.”

“You already proved that months ago,” she teased, bumping into him.

“Oi. Rude.”

“True, though.”

He laughed, pulled her closer by the hand. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. I’ll find more creative ways to shut you up later.”

Her stomach flipped deliciously.

They wandered off together like that, hands tangled, hearts a tangled mess of nerves and giddy relief, already half in love with this new reality where he was real and right there, close enough to touch.

They spent the next hour wandering through the vendor hall, which was exactly as tragic and adorable as Harry had promised.

Tiny tables crammed with stickers, enamel pins, homemade candles, nerdy T-shirts and art prints. A tired looking DJ was spinning some synthy pop in the corner, while groups of awkward twenty-somethings milled around with plastic badge holders swinging from their necks.

Harry didn’t let go of her hand once. Every time she reached for something on a table, he was right there, shoulder brushing hers, thumb stroking lazily over her knuckles.

At one booth, he picked up a truly awful little plushie — a lopsided frog wearing a tiny felt wizard hat.

“Oh my god,” she laughed. “That’s hideous.”

“That’s exactly why I want it.” He flipped the tag over, winced at the price, then smirked at her. “Actually… I think you need it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Too late.” He handed it to the vendor, pulled out his wallet, then shoved the hideous thing at her with a proud grin.

“Harry.” She tried to scowl but couldn’t stop smiling.

“S’for when I inevitably piss you off. You can punch his little face instead of mine.”

“You’re such a goof.”

He leaned in, brushed a quick kiss over her temple. “Yeah. Your goof, though.”

They drifted through a few more tables, Harry buying them both a cheap iced tea that tasted vaguely like metal, stopping every few feet to look at something he’d insist was “cool” even though it very much was not.

Eventually the crowd started thinning out, people heading back to their rooms or out to the parking lot. The music faded. Someone was rolling up a giant poster banner in the corner.

Harry glanced around, then at her, his thumb still brushing that same soothing line across the back of her hand.

“S’getting late, huh?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. Her heart was starting that stupid frantic beat again, the one that made it hard to get a full breath.

He gave her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll walk you up. Make sure no stray goat-dogs get you.”

She laughed, nudged his shoulder. “So thoughtful.”

They rode the elevator up in a comfortable, slightly charged silence, shoulders brushing, Harry’s free hand in his pocket. At her door, he rocked back on his heels, still holding her hand.

“Well…”

“Well,” she echoed. God, she was suddenly so nervous. Her heart felt like it was rattling against her ribs.

He lifted their joined hands, pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, then her wrist, then lower, to the inside of her palm.

“Night, trouble.”

She stood there frozen for half a second, then blurted out, “Wait.”

Harry stopped immediately, brows lifting. “Yeah?”

She bit her lip, heat crawling up her neck, then tried to laugh it off. “Do you… um. Do you maybe wanna come in? To my room? Just — I dunno. I’m not really ready for tonight to be over yet.”

His eyes went so soft she thought she might melt right there. Then he let out a quiet, slightly relieved laugh, thumb brushing her cheek.

“Fuck. I was gonna ask if you’d come back to mine, but didn’t wanna be that bloke, y’know? Didn’t want you to think I was just—”

She cut him off with a smile. “Harry. It’s me. You’re allowed to want to keep hanging out.”

His grin turned a little crooked. “Good. ‘Cause I really fuckin’ do.”

She fumbled her key card, nearly dropped it twice because her hands were shaking, and Harry just laughed quietly, resting a hand on the small of her back.

When the door finally swung open, he followed her inside, shutting it behind them with a soft click.

His hands found her waist almost immediately, pulling her close until their noses brushed.

“Hi again,” he murmured, voice low and a little breathless.

She laughed, slid her hands up his chest. “Hi.”

“Still can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

“You keep saying that,” she teased, voice wobbly.

He just kissed her, slow and deep, like he was determined to prove it over and over.

They stood there for a minute by the door, still half tangled up in each other, her hands pressed flat to his chest, his breath warm on her lips.

Harry’s thumbs stroked soft little circles at her waist, his forehead resting against hers. When he pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, mouth curved in a lazy, wrecked sort of smile.

“Y’know,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “I was trying really hard to be a gentleman.”

She bit her lip, heart stuttering. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He ducked his head, mouth brushing her jaw, then lower, nuzzling just under her ear. “Was gonna come up here, tuck you into bed all polite-like, go back to my room and die quietly.”

She let out a breathless little laugh, tilting her head to give him more room. “That sounds tragic.”

“It would’ve been,” he agreed, his mouth hot against her throat. “But now I’m here, and you’re letting me do this, and I’m absolutely fucked.”

That pulled a small, shaky sound from her chest.

She pulled back, just enough to see his face, and slid her hands up around his neck. Her thumbs brushed over the little curls at his nape, soft and sweaty from the day.

“Good,” she whispered. “I want you a little fucked up over me.”

His laugh was low, breathless, hands tightening at her hips. “That’s evil.”

She leaned up on her toes, kissed him.

It was meant to be quick. Just a soft press of her mouth to his. But the second she did it, Harry let out this quiet, desperate noise, his hands slipping lower, fingers digging into her hips to drag her closer.

The kiss went messy fast — all teeth and soft gasps, her hands sliding up into his hair, tugging at the little pink clip until it fell to the floor with a soft clatter. His hair spilled out around her fingers, wild and sweaty, and she fisted it tight, tugging just to feel him shudder.

“Christ,” he breathed against her mouth, voice cracking. “Keep doin’ that and I’m gonna lose it.”

“Yeah?” she whispered, lips ghosting over his jaw. “What if that’s what I want?”

Harry groaned, backed her up until her knees hit the bed. They tumbled onto it together, her on her back with Harry half on top of her, weight pressing her into the mattress in the best possible way.

His mouth was everywhere — her jaw, her neck, the little sensitive spot just under her ear that made her gasp.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, breath hot against her skin. “Look at you, all sweet and soft, lettin’ me in your room, and now you’re gonna ruin me.”

She laughed, breathless, hips arching up into his. “Maybe that’s the plan.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes dark and a little wild, hair a mess around his face.

“Yeah?” he rasped. “Want me to lose my fuckin’ mind over you?”

She nodded, swallowed hard, then slid her hands under the hem of his shirt, pushing it up. His skin was hot under her palms, muscles jumping under her touch.

“Take it off,” she whispered.

Harry let out a rough little laugh, sat up just enough to yank the shirt over his head. He tossed it somewhere behind him, then dropped back down, hands bracing on either side of her head.

“Happy?” he teased, but his voice was wrecked.

“Yeah,” she breathed, hands splaying over his warm, bare shoulders. “Now kiss me again.”

He did. Hard.

And when she shifted under him, legs parting to let him settle between, Harry let out the filthiest little groan against her mouth, hips pressing down into hers like he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck,” he gasped, pulling back just enough to look at her, eyes dark and blown. “Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah? Please. I need you to tell me.”

She smiled up at him, heart a wild, happy mess, and slid her hands back into his hair.

“I’ll tell you,” she promised, voice low. “But right now I want everything.”

Harry just stared at her for a second, like she’d just said the most perfect thing in the world. Then he dipped his head, kissed her again, and everything else fell away.

Harry kissed her like he’d been waiting a lifetime — deep and hot and almost clumsy with how badly he wanted it. His hands roamed everywhere, up under her shirt, over her sides, gripping her hips so tight it was like he thought she might slip away.

But then she did something that had his breath stalling out completely. She pushed at his shoulder, gentle at first, then more insistent.

“Lay back,” she whispered.

His eyes flew open, dark and wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, biting her lip, sliding her hands down his chest. “Want you under me.”

Harry let out this absolutely wrecked little laugh, voice cracking as he flopped back onto the pillows. “Jesus Christ. Gonna be the death of me, trouble.”

She swung a leg over him, settling her knees on either side of his hips. The second her weight sank down, Harry’s head tipped back, a groan ripping out of him. His hands immediately found her thighs, squeezing, thumbs stroking up to the crease of her hips.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breath shallow. “Look at you. You’re gonna make me embarrass myself.”

She leaned over him, bracing her hands on either side of his head, her hair slipping down to brush his cheeks. “That’s the point.”

“Oh, you’re evil,” he breathed, voice breaking on a laugh.

Then she started to move. Just a slow, testing roll of her hips, grinding down into him. The sound that tore out of Harry’s throat was obscene, his fingers digging into her thighs like he might bruise them.

“Trouble—” he gasped. “Fuck, don’t stop, please—”

She kept moving, finding a rhythm that had her own breath coming short and hot. The friction was maddening, sending little sparks dancing up her spine.

Then she dipped lower, mouth brushing his ear.

“You’re so easy for me,” she whispered, biting down gently on his earlobe.

Harry actually whimpered. His hips jerked up into hers, hands sliding to her ass to press her down harder.

“Oh my god,” he choked, breath hot and ragged. “Say that again.”

She just smiled, breathless, and pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Her teeth scraped lightly at the tender skin there, then bit down just enough to make him gasp.

“Mine,” she whispered against his throat. “You’re mine, Harry.”

“Fuck, fuck—” His hands were everywhere now, greedy and frantic, sliding under her shirt, over her back, trying to pull her even closer. His neck arched under her mouth, giving her more room, a helpless offering.

“Say it,” she breathed, nipping lower.

“Yours,” he groaned. “All yours, fuck, been yours since the first voice note you sent me, I’m done—”

She rocked her hips again, harder, and he nearly bucked off the bed. His hands clenched on her hips so tight she’d probably have marks.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she whispered against his throat, sucking another mark into his skin. “So desperate for me.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, a wrecked little smile breaking across his face. “You have no fuckin’ clue, trouble. Absolutely no clue.”

She laughed, soft and breathless, then captured his mouth in another hungry kiss, her hips still moving, chasing that perfect, maddening friction.

And Harry just let her — let her take everything she wanted, moaning into her mouth, hands trembling where they gripped her.

Harry’s hands were shaking where they gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her skin like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. She kept rolling her hips over him, slow and teasing, her mouth pressed to his neck, feeling every helpless groan vibrate under her lips.

Then suddenly his hands tightened, and he growled out a breathless, “Alright, that’s enough.”

Before she could even process it, he was flipping them over, pressing her into the mattress with a low, wrecked laugh.

“Hey!” she squealed, giggling breathlessly, hands flying up to his shoulders.

Harry just smirked down at her, hair falling around his face, eyes dark and hungry but lit with that same playful glint that had made her fall for him from the start.

“What happened to being my good boy?” she teased, trying to sound cocky even though her voice was wobbly.

Harry leaned down, his mouth brushing hers, voice dropping to this low, sinful rumble that made her toes curl.

“Still your good boy,” he breathed, kissing the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then right below her ear so she shivered. “But turns out your good boy’s fucking starving.”

Her breath hitched. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed mockingly, biting her earlobe just enough to make her gasp. “What, didn’t think I was gonna let you have all the fun, did you?”

Then his mouth was at her throat, kissing and nipping down the column of her neck, hands sliding under her shirt. He pushed it up, impatient, until she lifted her arms so he could yank it over her head.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, leaning back just long enough to drink her in. His eyes were so dark it made her stomach swoop. “Been dreaming about this for months, trouble. Ruined me before I even had the chance to touch you.”

“Yeah?” she whispered, arching a little under him, needing more of him everywhere.

“Oh, yeah.” His hands slid down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her shorts. “Now be a good girl and lift your hips for me.”

She did, breath catching as he peeled them down slow, his eyes locked on hers the whole time. When he got them past her thighs, he dropped a soft kiss to the inside of her knee that made her whimper.

Harry just smirked. “What, already needy for me? Haven’t even started yet.”

“Harry—”

But he cut her off with a slow, filthy kiss just below her belly button, then another lower, each press of his mouth sending heat pooling low in her stomach.

When he finally settled between her thighs, hands spreading them wider, she thought she might actually die.

Harry looked up at her, eyes heavy, mouth curved in that wicked, lazy grin.

“Gonna make you forget your own name,” he murmured, voice so rough it was almost a growl. “Then remind you it’s mine you’ll be screaming.”

Then he lowered his head, and everything went molten.

Harry’s breath was hot against her inner thigh, and the second his mouth finally landed on her, she made a sound she didn’t even recognize — high and broken, her back arching clean off the bed.

“Fuck, there she is,” Harry groaned, voice dark and awed, like he’d just discovered treasure. He licked a slow stripe up her slit that had her thighs trying to snap closed around his head, but his hands were there, big and strong, spreading her right back open. “Nah. Don’t you dare hide from me now.”

“Harry—”

“Mm?” He pressed a filthy open-mouthed kiss right over her clit, then sucked, gentle at first, then harder when she whimpered. “What’s that, trouble? Can’t hear you.”

“Fucking— you’re such an— oh my god—”

He laughed against her, the vibration shooting through her entire body. “That’s it. Talk to me. Want to hear every desperate little noise you’ve been keeping from me.”

Then he went right back to it — slow at first, dragging his tongue in lazy circles that had her hips chasing after him, then faster, teasing patterns that made her whine. He sucked her clit into his mouth and let it pop free, then did it again, until she was clutching at the sheets like a lifeline.

“Please,” she gasped, voice wrecked. “Harry, please—”

“Please what?” he growled, pulling back just enough to look at her. His mouth was wet, his jaw shining with her slick, and he looked absolutely feral. “Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart. I’m a bit slow on the uptake.”

She made a desperate little noise, hands flying down to his hair, gripping tight. “Please, just — don’t stop. Need your mouth, please.”

“Oh, fuck me, that’s pretty.” He dove right back in, groaning low when she tugged hard at his hair. His tongue worked her in deep, filthy strokes, then moved up to suck at her clit again, flicking just the tip of it until her thighs started to tremble.

Her hips stuttered against his mouth, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. “Harry— I’m gonna— oh my god—”

“Yeah?” He didn’t stop for even a second, words muffled against her. “Give it to me then, trouble. Come on my fuckin’ mouth.”

She broke with a soft sob, everything going tight and bright and shattering. Her hips rolled helplessly, grinding against his tongue, and Harry just moaned, holding her down, lapping her through it like he was starved.

When she finally slumped back against the mattress, shaking and spent, he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, a lazy, wicked smile tugging at his lips.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he rasped, crawling up over her until they were nose to nose. “You’re a mess. Pretty little thing, all ruined for me.”

She let out a breathless, delirious laugh. “You’re the worst. The actual worst.”

He grinned, leaned in to press a slow, dirty kiss to her mouth — letting her taste exactly what he’d just done.

“Yeah,” he whispered against her lips. “But you love it.”

Her answering moan was all the proof he needed.

Harry pulled back just far enough to look at her, eyes heavy and dark, breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His hands were everywhere — smoothing down her sides, gripping her thighs, then sliding up to cradle her face like he needed to hold her steady for what he was about to say.

“Need you,” he rasped, voice all gravel and desperation. “Need to be inside you right fuckin’ now or I’m gonna lose it.”

Her stomach swooped, heat pooling deep and low. She couldn’t help the soft, eager sound that broke from her chest. “Then do it. Please.”

Harry groaned, crashing his mouth back to hers in a rough, breathless kiss that had her head spinning. His hands moved between them, fumbling with his jeans. When he finally shoved them down along with his briefs, he sighed like it physically hurt to be kept from her even that long.

“Look at you,” he breathed, sliding a hand down to guide himself, dragging the head of his cock through her slick folds until they were both trembling. “All wet for me already. Fuckin’ hell, trouble.”

“Harry—” Her voice cracked on his name, needy and wrecked, and that seemed to break the last of his control.

He pressed in slow, pushing inside inch by inch. Her mouth dropped open on a strangled little gasp, hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. Harry let out a deep, shuddering groan, forehead dropping to hers.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, hips stuttering forward. “You’re so fuckin’ tight — like you were made for me, swear to god.”

She could barely breathe, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively, trying to pull him even deeper. “Harry, please— move—”

“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice low and rough, brushing his nose against hers. Then he pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back in, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs.

Her moan was sharp, desperate, nails digging into his back. Harry grinned, breathless and cocky. “There she is. C’mon, let me hear you.”

Then he set a rhythm — slow at first, rolling his hips into hers like he wanted to savor every second, then faster, rougher, every thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through her that had her clinging to him helplessly.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he panted against her mouth. “Can’t believe I’ve been waiting months for this. Months— thinkin’ about you, your voice, your laugh— didn’t even know what you looked like and I was already gone.”

“Harry,” she gasped, her body twisting under his, chasing each thrust. “Fuck— don’t stop—”

“Not stoppin’. Never fuckin’ stopping,” he growled. His hands slid under her ass, lifting her just enough so he could angle deeper. When he thrust again, she cried out, head tipping back, eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s it,” he rasped, fucking into her harder now, their bodies slamming together with slick, obscene sounds. “Good girl. Take it for me.”

“Feels so— god, you feel so good—”

“Yeah? This what you wanted?” His mouth found her neck, biting down just enough to make her keen. “Wanted me to ruin you, yeah?”

“Yes— yes, please, Harry, I’m so close—”

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he groaned, hips snapping faster. “Come for me, trouble. Wanna feel you squeeze me.”

It only took a few more thrusts before she broke, coming with a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders. Her whole body tensed, then went loose and trembling under him. Harry let out a wrecked moan, burying his face in her neck as he followed her over the edge, hips jerking erratically until he spilled inside her.

They stayed tangled up like that, gasping into each other’s skin, his weight heavy and perfect on top of her. His hand stroked her hair, thumb brushing her cheek, grounding them both.

When he finally pulled back to look at her, his grin was lazy and stupidly soft.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice rough. “Knew you’d wreck me.”

She laughed, weak and breathless, pulling him down into a messy kiss.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because you absolutely ruined me too.”

Harry stayed right there, heavy and warm on top of her, breathing hard against her neck. It should have felt smothering, but it didn’t. It felt perfect — grounding and real, his heartbeat still thundering under her palm where she pressed it flat to his chest.

After a minute, he lifted his head, eyes soft and dazed. His hair was a total disaster, curls sticking up in every direction, still damp at the roots. She reached up and brushed a stray lock off his forehead, and he gave her this small, sappy smile that made her stomach flip all over again.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough, thumb stroking under her jaw.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Better than okay.”

He leaned in and kissed her — slow, gentle, nothing like how frantic he’d been a few minutes ago. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers and let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” she breathed.

“Just…” His grin went a little crooked. “Dunno how I’m supposed to go back to my sad little flat after this. S’not fair.”

“You’ll survive,” she teased, even though her chest squeezed painfully at the thought of him leaving.

“Doubt it. Gonna be pathetic without you there to torment me.”

She laughed, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He pulled out slowly, careful and sweet, then dropped another soft kiss on her mouth before rolling off to the side. He flopped down next to her, arm immediately hooking around her waist to tug her into his side.

They lay like that for a minute, catching their breath. Then Harry huffed out another soft laugh.

“What now?” she groaned, nuzzling her face into his shoulder.

“Just thinking how smug you’re gonna be about this. Won’t be able to get your head through a door after tonight.”

“Oh, please. I’m the smug one?” She lifted her head to look at him, arching a brow. “Pretty sure you were the one talking about how you were gonna make me forget my name.”

Harry grinned, completely unrepentant. “Didn’t I, though?”

She smacked his chest lightly. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” He pulled her tighter, kissing her hair.

They lay there in a comfortable tangle of limbs, skin still sticky, hearts finally slowing down. Harry’s hand traced lazy patterns up and down her back, then settled low on her waist, thumb brushing soothing circles.

“Can I stay the night?” he murmured after a while, voice small in a way that made her heart squeeze.

“Of course you can,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. “I was hoping you would.”

“Good,” he breathed, then shifted to press her closer. “Need you here. S’like my body’s already addicted.”

She laughed, warm all over. “You’re a sap.”

“You’re gonna keep saying that, but I’m not embarrassed.” He nuzzled her nose with his, eyes crinkling. “Best fuckin’ decision I ever made, driving down here. Even if you did ruin me.”

“You like being ruined.”

“Oh, fully. Hopeless for it.”

She kissed him again, sweet and lingering, then tucked her head under his chin.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, trouble?”

“Don’t let this be a one weekend thing.”

His arms tightened around her. “Not a chance in hell.”

Two years later, and Y/N still couldn’t quite believe how her life had turned out.

It was ridiculous, really — all because she’d been bored and lonely one night, scrolling TikTok with her brain half-melted from work, and stumbled across a scruffy British boy in a pink hair clip rambling about cereal.

Now that same boy was asleep on her couch most nights, leaving half-empty tea mugs everywhere, hogging the blankets, stealing kisses in the kitchen while she was trying to cook.

Harry had moved to her city after six months of painfully sweet long weekends and gut-wrenching goodbyes at airports. “Not doin’ this anymore,” he’d grumbled against her mouth one night, hands cupping her face like she was something breakable. “Want to wake up next to you every bloody day.”

So he did.

They settled into something warm and chaotic — nights in with cheap wine and takeout, quiet mornings tangled up in bed, little trips to bookstores where he’d follow her around with a lazy arm hooked around her waist.

And somehow two years flew by.

They were on a weekend trip up north, renting a tiny cabin that looked out over a stretch of mossy woods. It was chilly, the sky low and gray, everything damp with the smell of pine and earth. Y/N was bundled in one of Harry’s sweaters, hands shoved in her pockets, while he fussed around trying to start a little bonfire.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” she teased, arching a brow.

Harry shot her a look over his shoulder, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. “Absolutely not. But you love me anyway, so it’s fine.”

“That’s debatable.”

He laughed, then finally got the flame going, settling back on his heels with a smug grin. “Ha. Ye of little faith.”

She rolled her eyes, sinking down onto the threadbare blanket he’d spread on the ground. The fire crackled softly, little bursts of orange against the dreary afternoon.

Harry dropped down next to her, pulling her immediately between his legs so her back pressed to his chest. His chin hooked over her shoulder, arms warm and heavy around her middle.

They sat like that for a while, quiet, just listening to the fire and the distant birds.

Then she felt him shift, heart thundering against her back in this weird, frantic rhythm.

“Alright, trouble,” he murmured, voice suddenly rough. “Got a question for you.”

She twisted a little to look at him. “Yeah? Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“Because I might,” he breathed, and when he pulled back she realized his hands were shaking.

Then he was fumbling in his pocket, pulling out this small, velvet box.

Y/N’s breath completely stopped.

“Harry—”

“Hang on, let me do it before I black out, yeah?” he rasped, popping the box open. Inside was a delicate ring, simple and perfect. Her eyes stung instantly.

Harry laughed, watery, eyes so bright. “Look, I know you’re a menace. You drive me absolutely mad. You steal the covers and use my toothbrush sometimes and leave your hair all over the flat. But I can’t — I don’t want — to do any of this without you. Ever again.”

She covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. “Harry—”

“Love.” His grin was crooked, voice breaking. “Will you marry me?”

She nodded so hard it hurt, a laugh bubbling out through her tears. “Yes. Yes, obviously, you goof.”

Harry let out this wrecked little noise, then was pulling her into his lap, hugging her so tight the ring box squished between them.

When he finally pulled back to slip the ring onto her shaking finger, his own hands were trembling so badly it took two tries.

“Told you you’d ruin me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

She laughed through a sob. “You love it.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I fuckin’ love you.”

Then he kissed her — slow and sweet and a little salty from both their tears — while the fire crackled on beside them, the sky hanging low and gray overhead, and everything else fell perfectly, irrevocably into place.