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lilystyles · 5 months

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written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!

brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.

warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]

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

* * * * *

Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.

On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.

Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was.

Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean?

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail.

She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.

She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.

Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.

So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose.

She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.

However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.

It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.

As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.

“Babe! Where are you two off to?”

Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”

Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.

“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.

Paddy was his most recent fling.

“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.

Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.

Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.

Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.

She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks.

“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.

Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.

Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.

The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.

His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be.

Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.

“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones.

He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.

But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.

Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing.

“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck.

He had such an intense stare.

“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”

Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.

It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”

She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder.

She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.

“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”

He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.

He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.

Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.

Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse.

She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.

Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.

Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too.

Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.

Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up.

Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring.

So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.

He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs.

She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him.

She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest.

“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily.

He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”

She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.

“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”

She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”

He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”

She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.

But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.

“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?

Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.

Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”

She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments.

But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them.

He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.

Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.

And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.

He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.

She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!

She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.

“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.

“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.

“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.

“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”

“We?”

She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”

“You love me?” He teased.

She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.

“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.

He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.

He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”

Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.

She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”

Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared.

She could tell he was kind of speechless.

“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack.

“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.

“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.

She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.

“You know why too.”

She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.

“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.

She felt her heart rate speed up.

“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.

He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”

Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”

Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.

“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.

Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”

Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”

“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.

“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”

Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.

He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”

She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.

“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.

“It’s not,” She pouted.

He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”

She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.

“I stole a lolly once.”

Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.

“Oh yeah? Anything else?”

She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal.

“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.

Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.

“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”

Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.

Until.

“What do you think about, Y/n?”

She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.

“A lot of filthy things, H.”

He bit his lip, “Like what?”

He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”

Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.

It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”

Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.

She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”

That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Wanna be good?”

She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.

“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no?

She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.

Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).

He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”

She couldn’t complain about that.

As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.

In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.

“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head.

“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.

“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”

She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”

He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”

She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”

He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry.

He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back.

He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.

After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.

The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.

He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips.

He stopped to look at her. Really looking.

Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.

“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.

“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.

He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”

“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”

“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”

She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away.

“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.

He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”

She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered.

He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”

She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.

It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.

Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.

“You alright down there, Petal?”

She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy.

And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper.

His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him.

“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him.

“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.

She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.

She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch.

“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.

“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.

His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.

“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”

She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”

He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.

Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.

She was just perfect.

He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her.

“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”

She nodded. “Yes please.”

“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”

She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.

“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.

His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly.

“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.

He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”

He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.

“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”

She nodded. “Mm.”

“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”

“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.

He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”

She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.

“So sensitive f’me.”

He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.

“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”

She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”

He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.

“Suck,” He told her.

She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.

“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet.

She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.

“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.

When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.

“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.

He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”

She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.

“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him.

Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”

He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”

He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.

But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.

Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”

It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.

He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”

He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.

Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”

He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”

God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.

She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.

“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked.

And she nodded once more.

“Tell me.” He told her.

“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.

“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”

That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper.

As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.

He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out.

“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.

He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder.

“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.

She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”

Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.

“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.

He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.

He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire.

“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.

“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words.

“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back.

He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm.

“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”

He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.

It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before.

She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that

“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.

And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”

Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head.

He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.

“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven.

“Please, what?” He asked sternly.

“Please, Daddy.”

He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.

“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.

With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.

“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.

Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”

“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him.

“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips.

Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.

“One sec, Love.”

She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.

He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”

She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much.

“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked.

She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”

He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”

“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her.

He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.

“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”

She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.

He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her.

Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.

“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too.

“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”

“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.

“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”

He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”

She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”

He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”

She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”

He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”

She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”

He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”

She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully.

“I like you too.”

This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”

“C’mere then,”

She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.

The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”

“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary.

He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”

“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her.

“Kiss?”

She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep.

When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.

Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.

“Want some pancakes, children?”

The pair nodded.

Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?

When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.

Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.

“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?

She nodded. “Yeah,”

“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”

She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.

“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.

They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.

“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”

“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.

“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”

Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”

They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.

She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.

Harry Styles🍒

Can I come over tonight?

Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face.

what on earth for mr. styles?

Harry Styles🍒

Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?

Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back.

see u at eight

Harry Styles🍒

See you then Baby X

Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?

oh and bring snacks

and that new film u were raving about to niall

Harry Styles🍒

Ok, done. See you tonight. XX

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.

‘💗💗’ She replied.

When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.

Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.

She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.

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theydopissmeoffavocados · 5 months

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bonesandchalamet · 9 months

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Italy - h.styles

pairing: husband!harry styles x wife!reader

warnings: fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes please.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x oc #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x you #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #one direction blurb #1d fanfiction #harry x you #hslot

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chaoticloving · 10 months

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harry styles x reader

warnings: mentions of sex

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

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

Harry was leaving in nine days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You alright? You look teary-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say that.” Y/n sighed.

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

“H, can I admit something?”

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

“I am not Harry Styles without you.”

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

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

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

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manchesterau · 9 months

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13 years of One Direction

#one direction #1dsource #tracksintheam #trackinghome #tomlinsonedits #stylesedits #hlcreators #i contemplated doing an edit but in the end i had to!#harry styles #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #liam payne #niall horan #.gifs #1d gifs #my edit #the boys

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hl-obsessed · 5 months

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after party husbands 🎊🍾

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skullsuited · 10 months

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primal.

an lhh!era smut blurb featuring a breeding kink, hair pulling, mentions of a sex toy (pussy plug) and insinuation of a creampie.

Harry’s propped himself up on his forearms, strands of his hair are sticking to his forehead and neck because he and his girl have been going at it hard.

The only real noise coming from their bedroom is the way the bed is creaking underneath the weight of Harry’s pointed, timed thrusts, skin occasionally slapping against each other, his heavy breathing and soft grunts leaving his kiss swollen, shiny raspberry lips and she’s whining, back arched slightly, moaning his name like some sort of holy prayer.

Harry licks his lips, then pauses his thrusts for a moment, settling most of his weight on top of his lover as he guides his right arm away from the side of her head, coating two of his fingers with his saliva and slowly inching his hand down in between their bodies, the pads of them rubbing gently over her sensitive pink pearl. She gasps, hands tangling in his hair and pulling, making him growl — Harry adores having his hair pulled. “Yeh want to cum f’ me, baby?” He asks her, nose nudging against her own, lips parted and ghosting over hers. Harry has continued his thrusts now; languid, but rough. He’s really taking the words ‘fucking someone into the mattress’ to a whole new level.

The woman, this divine little creature underneath him can’t even speak, a bubble caught in her throat as he fucks her. “Words, angel. Need t’ hear you, yeah?” He hums, fingers continuing to work on her clit in pressured, slow little circles. “Oh, please, Harry,” She finally manages, swallowing thickly. “Please make me cum.” She begs him quietly and this surge of pride, of satisfaction washes over him. Harry craves her release; knows he needs it in order to feel like he’s done a good job in bed. “Yeah, pet. I’ll make yeh cum. Fuck, m’ goin’ to make you cum so hard, I promise you.” He swears, practically vows to her and all she can do is nod, “Put a baby in me.”

That stirs something up in him, awakens this primal urge to fill her up the only physical way he can. A wrecked noise leaves his throat, jaw slack, lips brushing over hers and catching against her teeth. “Goin’ to put a baby in yeh. Goin’ to.. hell, goin’ to plug your cunt an’ make sure it sticks.” He growls, teeth clashing against hers in this heated, sloppy kiss and he thinks their souls are bound in this very moment, that his seed is the source of this woman’s happiness. The two fingers he’s got on her clit are rubbing a bit faster now, he’s barely lifting his hips to really thrust, only grinding against her to edge his cock further into her cunt.

She whines against his lips, panting as her impending orgasm draws closer, the pressure in between her legs growing heavier. "Fuck, Har-Harry.." The sweet, unholy angel gasps between bated breaths, manicured claws scratching at Harry's scalp. "I'm going- I'm going to cum."

He growls, a low thrumming in the back of his throat. Emerald eyes are dilated, onyx pupils creating a black hole of lust and affection for the beauty taking his cock beneath him. "Cum f' me, baby. Cum all over my cock." Harry urges her, his two fingers on her bundle of nerves flickering and playing as she gasps sharply, features twisting up in pleasure as her orgasm washes over her body, flooding her system. Her nails claw at his head, the pinpricks of pain sending a shiver down his spine and before he can realize, his own release crashes over him like a wave, drowning, lapping over him as though he was stuck in the ocean during a storm.

"Fuck!" He swears, hips stuttering against her own. Harry's hands slide up his lover's body, grasping at her hips and the sheets around her. His head tilts back, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes screwed shut as he empties himself inside of her, groaning. His body is still, sweaty, flush against his darling's as they come down from their highs as two panting messes.

"You," She begins, swallowing and catching her breath, "You should grab that plug you were talking about..."

Harry chuckles breathlessly, nodding, "Yeah. I will, jus- just let me stay here for a moment."

Wordlessly, they lay together. Unmoving, intertwined together in intimacy and adoration, minds shifting past the primal urges felt only moments before and settling into a state of bliss.

#harry styles #harry smut #harry blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #long hair harry #lhh!era #1d smut #one direction smut #1d imagines

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larry-hiatus · 1 year

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What in the 2012 is going on here

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #niall horan #liam payne #zayn malik #one direction #1d #phenomeniall #brilliam #amazayn #extrordinharry #fabulouis

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matildashoney · 2 years

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Delicate Point Of View: Chapter One

MASTERLIST // ASKS // PLAYLIST // TAGS Word Count: 10.1K CW: NA author's note: welcome to harry and hera's world. over the last month or so, i've been creating these characters and their story that mean so much to me, that i understand and relate to, all because of an album that means so much to me, to us. this is my first big story since loving you's the antidote, and i ask that you come into it with an open mind and heart, and give harry and hera a chance. i love these two so deeply, and i promise the rollercoaster you're about to go on will be well worth it. thank you to @gucciwins, @hunflowers, @loversgothumour, and @harryinsweats for listening to me ramble on and on about these characters that have become very real to me. i couldn't do this without your input and thoughts. and lastly, thank you to you, everyone that reads, because you're the reason i'm encouraged to write anything. i appreciate your love and kindness more than anything in this world. please, please leave comments and feedback and reblogs and likes and all the things! it encourages me! okay, enough rambling, welcome to harry (and hera's) house.

May is not necessarily the nicest time of year. Not in London, at least. Hera enjoys the weather in New York City in May much more than London, but it’s where she lives, where she calls home. And for the first time in nearly three months, Hera is home, soaking in the time to relax and take a break from work and travel in the comfort of her own home, with the familiarity of the people she loves around her. Like every other Thursday that Hera has off, her priority has been working on work emails and contracts to be sent out for Monday, residing on the couch with a blanket strewn over her legs, a mindless program airing in the background, and her phone tucked between her thigh and the softened cushion. Grant is at work, today, but he spends the weekends at her apartment in Hampstead Heath more often than not, and she’s expecting a call from him to say that he’s on his way.

Hera’s phone vibrates beneath her thigh, much earlier than when Grant typically calls on his way home, and not usually when Isla calls her to talk about their day. Her hand reaches for the phone, bringing it up to her face to see who’s calling.

And Hera has to look at the screen twice before fully accepting who is calling her. Grant will be arriving any minute, and she’s unsure what he will walk into if she answers the call. Hera tends to get emotional whenever she speaks to who is calling, and after not speaking to them for almost a year, it seems odd that they’re calling, especially when tomorrow is such a big day for them. Hera hesitates another second before deciding to answer, sliding her finger across the screen, and lifting the phone to her ear, clutching the device between her ear and shoulder.

“Hey, H,” is the first thing spoken through the speaker, and the name, the voice, the familiarity of it all feels like home. “It’s been a while. I’m glad you answered. How are you?”

“Hi,” she says smoothly, collecting her thoughts and picking at the fringe of the blanket thrown across her thighs. “I’m okay. I’m fresh off a tour, so I’m enjoying some time at home.” Hera waits a moment, and then says, “I’ll always answer. You know that.” One more moment. “How are you? Congratulations on your tour.”

“Thank you, H. That means a lot.” Hera can hear the ragged breathing through the speaker. He’s nervous, she can hear it. “I’m okay. Gearing up for tour, like you mentioned, and everything that comes along with that. My album comes out tomorrow, too.”

“I know,” she laughs breathily, shaking her head knowingly. The album is everywhere. Absolutely everywhere she turns, there is the album, the face she tries to shy away from, the reminder that he is always around. “I’m happy for you. Isla told me it’s your best work. I’m sure it’ll do amazing on the charts and all that. You always do.”

“I appreciate that, I do.”

Hera doesn’t mean to sound rude or harsh, but she has to ask the inevitable. Hera hasn’t spoken to him in nearly a year … it doesn’t make sense why he’s calling, now. Unless he found out. “Harry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but is everything okay? I’m honestly a bit shocked you’re calling me.”

Harry laughs breathily this time, and Hera can imagine him shaking his head. “I called you about the album, actually. It comes out at midnight, and, after much convincing from Mitch and Sarah and Isla, it seems apparent to me that I should call and give you a heads up.”

Hera knows in her gut what he’s saying, but decides to play innocent, maybe a bit naïve, hoping desperately she’s wrong. “Heads up? For what?”

“I, um, well,” Harry stutters nervously. Hera remembers that he does that when he’s anxious. “I wrote some songs about you, about experiences that involve you, and they made it on the album. I wanted to let you know beforehand before they’re out there and anyone else can tell you.”

Hera gulps and nods her head, although Harry can’t see her. Her suspicions were correct. Gut instinct always true. “Are you going to tell me which ones?”

“I mean, I think you’ll be able to tell with most of them.” Harry takes a breath and hums, almost as if he’s thinking about something in between sentences. “There is one song, though, that I want to send to you, now, if that’s okay, and hear your thoughts on it. I, I wrote it a while ago, back when you had told me about things with your family and friends when we were dating.” Harry pauses, and it feels as though he just reopened a wound Hera thought was stitched tightly closed. “I just, I thought this was the best way to tell you I was listening to you, and I was there for you. I know I should’ve shown that in other ways, but I wrote this, and I wanted you to hear it before the world hears it. It’s for you, Hera.”

“Can you send it through?” Hera asks, her voice going quiet as she sinks into the white, puffy couch, suddenly feeling very small and very seen. Harry hums on the other end. “What’s it called, Harry?”

“Matilda.”

Hera nods silently as a tear slips down her cheek, her hands reaching for her computer and opening her screen, typing in her password, and opening the new message from him. Her heart sinks as she opens the file, the name of the song written in bold, black letters. Hera knows exactly what day this song was inspired by; what happened and what was said, everything that led to the creation of this song. Choosing to block out the memory, Hera presses play on the song, leaving Harry on speaker on her thigh.

It’s strange. Hearing Harry’s voice over the speaker on her computer with him on the phone. Listening to a song written about her trauma and tragedy.

Hera blinks back tears, her heart clenching in her chest as the lyrics settle in, every word written to tell her the thing that her favorite childhood movie and novel always reminded her: you are not alone. Harry lets the words settle in before saying anything. He sighs, ready to speak, when Hera presses play, again. For another four minutes, the two sit in silence, Harry choosing to be oblivious to the streams of tears falling down Hera’s cheeks, because if he acknowledged it, he would be on his way over, closing the short fifteen-minute gap between their homes and rushing to her. He couldn’t do that, now, though. Not now.

“Hera?”

Hera sniffles when the song finishes, sucking in a breath before answering him. “Yes?”

“Is it okay? Do you hate it?”

“Of course, I don’t hate it. How could I? It’s beautiful, Harry,” Hera whispers, wiping her cheeks and closing her computer screen. “I just, thank you. Thank you for listening.”

Hera can’t see that Harry nods, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “I, um, I have a show in London on Monday. I believe Isla is coming. I sent an invitation to Grant, too. Mum and Gemma will be there.” Harry waits a second. “I’d really like it if you came. Come even for a few songs, you know? I, it would mean so much to me.”

Hera, although having fully believed that all her feelings towards Harry were gone, has a very tough time saying no to him. “I’ll see. I’ll try to come.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you Monday, then.”

“I’ll try, yes.”

Hera moves to hang up, hearing the clicking of the lock and the sound of her boyfriend coming through the front door. Grant walks into the living room, seeing the phone clutched between her ear and shoulder and kisses her softly, murmuring a ‘hello’ before walking into the kitchen.

“H?”

Hera freezes. Did he hear Grant? It won’t be good if Harry finds out before she can tell him. Before anyone can tell him. “Yes?”

“Thanks for answering. I’ve missed you. I’ll see you on Monday.” And before Hera could properly respond, Harry’s hung up the phone call.

Hera takes a minute to calm down, wiping the tears from her eyes and setting her computer and phone aside on the coffee table. All of that can be collected later before she’s off to bed for the evening. At this moment though, she needs a warm, reassuring hug from her boyfriend that says that everything is going to be okay. Maybe she’ll call Isla before bed and tell her what happened. Maybe she’ll tell Grant. Maybe she won’t tell anyone at all.

Hera stands from her position on the couch and walks into the modernized kitchen – it was remodeled only a few weeks ago and barely looks lived in, with the exception of Grant always making a meal when he’s around – standing in the doorway for a minute and admiring the way Grant is milling about the room knowingly. Grant and Hera have been dating for nearly a year and a half, now, and he’s made himself comfortable in her home, in a space she once shared with someone else. Grant, always the most thoughtful, grabs another glass to pour water into once he notices her waiting at the doorway, a smile picking at his features as neither of them say a word.

Considering how busy their lives are, there aren’t many moments where Hera and Grant get to act like a normal couple, where they can cook dinner together and talk about their days and go to bed together. Hera wants to enjoy this tonight, and not worry about anyone else on her mind.

Grant speaks first. “How was your day, love?” Hera’s heart sinks further into her stomach as the tears well in her eyes. Grant is a good person, someone that’s been pining after her for years and has made the last year and a half as happy as it could be. Grant is good, truly good, someone that deserves to be loved as deeply as he loves her, and the moment he is brought up, it reminds Hera that that’s just not how she feels. “Oh, love, are you okay?”

Hera shakes her head silently, succumbing to her emotions, and walks towards him, laying her head on his chest. Grant cradles her head against his chest and slowly rubs her back as she silently lets the tears fall against his cotton shirt. Grant sets his chin on her head, “I’m sorry you had a bad day. Does it have to do with the call you were on earlier? Would you like to talk about it?”

“I don’t think so,” Hera sighs shakily, lifting her head and pouting out her bottom lip. Now is not the time to tell him that her ex-boyfriend called. Now is especially not the time to tell him that said ex-boyfriend has songs about her on his new album. “I’m happy you’re here with me. Thank you for being here.”

“Always, honey,” he softly smiles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her mouth. His kiss makes her smile, a half-smile that says, this feels right, and she tightens her arms around his waist. “What do you want to cook, tonight? I think you’ve got a bit of chicken we could stir up into some pasta, or we could make something from scratch if you’d prefer.”

Hera closes her eyes and soaks in the sound of his voice. Comforting, the sound of an old friend, someone she’s known nearly a decade. Loving, someone that loves her so deeply, that he would do anything, give up anything for her. Grant loves her, that much she knows. “Whatever you want, baby. Anything sounds good.”

Grant nods, cupping Hera’s cheeks and giving her another kiss, before loosening his grip and beginning to pull things out of her refrigerator to make for dinner. Hera watches him carefully, and she can see a future where their life is like this every night, not just one or two nights a week. Hera turns on the radio, closing her eyes and soaking in the last bits of sunlight piercing through the window as she washes the vegetables and sings along quietly to the songs playing through the speaker. Grant talks about his day working with the production team for an up-and-coming band on tour throughout the country, talking about how humble and sweet they were – quite the contrast from the usual artists and teams he works with day to day as a sound technician. Hera talks about the contracts that are being sent by a few different artists, saying that she has to choose which one she’s going to settle for by the end of the week. Grant offers to look over the contracts with her later that evening, and Hera smiles gratefully.

Amidst their talks of work and travelling, Hera’s ears perk to the sound of Isla’s name, Grant quickly saying that she mentioned a concert on Monday that they had been invited to. Hera can see that he walks around it as much as he possibly can, but the hurt that passes through Hera’s face at the mere mention of it is evident. Hera had decided before that conversation to not mention it, that she wouldn’t go. Now, however, it seems that it is up for discussion.

“About that,” Hera says, suddenly feeling very full and pushing her plate away from her face. Grant is staring at her intently, and she suddenly feels very sick. “Harry called me earlier. That’s who I was on the phone with.” Grant leans forward, hanging on every word she says. “He, uh, sent me a song that he wrote about me, for me. Asked, Harry asked if I would go on Monday, to the show. I, I’m not so sure I want to go. I don’t want it to be awkward or something for us to be there together, to see his family, to see him. I, I just don’t know.”

“June, my love, I would never force you to go if you don’t want to,” Grant begins, setting his fork down and grabbing her hand from across the table, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles comfortingly. Grant is so good at that, at comforting her. “I just –”

“Conditional statement incoming.”

Grant laughs at that, “However, I do think it may be good for you. Get some closure and all that. It’s okay that you miss him, baby. He was your best friend. Long before you and I were together, or any of us, pretty much. It may be nice to have him in your life again, you know, even if it’s just a little bit.”

“And I’ll have to see him eventually. Isla’s wedding is coming soon. I’ll definitely be seeing him there, you know. Maybe I should just get that initial awkward meeting out of the way,” Hera explains, taking a sip of water and swallowing dryly. All this talk of him has made her throat and mouth gone dry. “Considering we’re the Maid of Honor and Best Man.”

Grant nods, “I think this sounds like a really smart thing to do. I think it’ll be good for you,” he smiles softly, lifting her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her fingers gently. “I’ll be by your side the whole time. You won’t have to do it alone. You’ve got me, now. And Isla and Beau. I’m sure Mitch won’t let him do or say anything stupid, either.”

“I suppose you’re right, yeah.” Hera’s eyes travel everywhere but Grant’s face. All that has transpired in the last few hours feels surreal. Especially knowing that in a few hours, there will be songs about her released to the world, songs she’s never heard, songs she has no idea the context or what they say or how they sound. Hera wants to talk about it, to share her feelings, but how could she possibly do that with her boyfriend? “Harry said that there are songs about me on the album. Like I said, I heard one today, but there’s more. I haven’t listened to anything yet. I’m not sure I want to.”

Grant nods knowingly, “I know, baby.”

Hera’s eyes go wide, and she feels like she should sink further and further into her chair with embarrassment. “You know?”

“Mitch sent me the songs. Kind of like a warning, maybe. I don’t really know, actually. I didn’t ask what he meant by it, or what he wanted me to do with them. He’s the only one of them that knows we’re together besides Isla.”

“Did you listen? Are they, like, I don’t know.”

“I did listen.” Hera gulps, and Grant looks off into the distance for a moment, almost as if he’s searching for the right words to break this to her. His thoughts hurt him, that much she can see, and she wishes it didn’t have to be like this. Hera wishes she wasn’t still in love with another man, at the same time she loves Grant. Hera wishes he wasn’t everywhere they go, every turn a reminder of him. Hera wishes he wasn’t writing songs about her, touring the world singing them with people constantly questioning and blaming her for his heartbreak. “Harry still loves you, June. You know that, don’t you?”

Mixing all those words together in one sentence breaks Hera’s façade. All that she’s worked towards over the last two years, the therapy and talking and going out and finding closure on her own, it all feels like a lost cause with that one, singular statement.

Grant stands from his seat and takes their plates to the trash and then to the sink, rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher and walking towards Hera. He knows that she likes a moment to collect herself before he says anything.

“Grant, I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know that, baby. I do,” Grant says, walking towards her and gently laying his hands on her shoulders, encouraging her to turn to face him. Hera leans her face on his abdomen and her eyes flutter shut when his fingers run through her hair the way she likes. “I love you, very much. And I know how hard this is for you. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m making you choose between having me and having him in your life. I’ll always be there for you. I just, I want you to know that I’m not letting you go that easily. If Harry wants you, he’s going to have to win you over fair and square. “Cause I’m here, I’m in this for the long haul. Forever, if you want.”

Hera’s skin prickles with goosebumps at the ‘forever’ comment. Grant seeing a future with her will never not make her react. “I doubt that’s what he wants, Grant.”

“Either way, I just want you to know how I feel,” Grant says calmly, leaning down and kissing Hera’s forehead. He lingers there for a moment, before pulling away and saying, “Do you want to go and run a bath for us? Might be a nice way to end the day.”

“Okay,” Hera murmurs, standing on her feet and tilting her head slightly to bring his mouth to hers. Grant doesn’t hesitate for a second, kissing her deeply and smiling when her hands come to grab his cheeks and hold him there for a moment longer. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

Grabbing her phone from the living room, she makes her way into the master bedroom and ensuite, turning on the water for the tub and shutting the door to let the steam begin to warm the room. Grant can be heard through the house, milling about, and grabbing his things as he shuffles into the bedroom, plugging in his phone and cautiously entering the bathroom. Hera’s eyes flutter shut as Grant places a kiss on the back of her neck, gently massaging her shoulders as she leans into his touch. Hera lays her hands on his, squeezing him, rolling her head back against his shoulder as his hands begin to wander down her body.

Grant doesn’t speak, merely caressing her body and cherishing the way her mouth feels on his. Hera’s words exist in whimpers and quiet moans, as they stumble into the bedroom and find their way to her mattress, her thoughts surrounded by the way she feels with her boyfriend heavy on her chest and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Grant finally decides to share his feelings when they’re in the bath together, when she’s laying on his chest, his hands running over her shoulders and down her sides. Hera is nearly asleep, her eyes fluttered shut with the feeling of his hands on her. He sucks in a deep breath, and Hera’s eyes open, knowing that he’s about to say something.

“Are you okay, Grant?”

Grant shrugs and gently turns her around, her thighs wrapping around his waist and her arms moving around his neck. “I want to be with you, June. I want to be with you and have a future with you. I don’t want to sound selfish, I don’t, but I want you, and I don’t want anything to come between us and what we have going.”

Hera nods understandingly. Hera understands Grant’s position. How could she not? Truthfully, it’s a bit surprising he’s as calm about all of this as he is. Anyone in his position would be angry, pissed, annoyed. And yet, Grant is here, encouraging Hera to find closure with Harry, promising her that he’d fight for her and their future together.

Hera leans forward and kisses Grant softly. “I won’t go on Monday if you don’t want me to. I completely respect your feelings on this.”

“I don’t think that’s the answer to this.” Grant brushes a stray strand of hair away from her face. “I think I should stay back. You and Isla can go. I’m sure you’ll have a good time seeing everyone. I do think you should tell him that we’re seeing each other, though. I think that boundary should be set from the get-go.”

“I understand, and I agree.”

“Okay,” Grant smiles, leaning forward and capturing her mouth in a kiss. His kisses are always gentle and never hurried, never rushed and needy. “I think we should get out, though. My fingers are beginning to prune.”

Hera and Grant laugh together, clambering out of the tub and grabbing their respective towels to dry off and settle into their pajamas and nightly routine. Grant is asleep before Hera, falling asleep almost instantly when his head lays against the pillow. Hera tosses and turns for a while, debating whether or not to send a text to Isla about Monday and whether or not she should go.

All of it seems like a bad decision, a poor choice. How could seeing Harry possibly go well? Hera is sure all of those old emotions will draw up again, will start stirring in her chest. How could she possibly face Grant knowing that she’s still in love with Harry, too? How could she hear all the songs written about her and not feel something? All of it seems like the start of a very big problem.

Hera sighs, tossing over and reaching for her phone and opening her messages with her best friend, typing out what she needs to before turning her phone over and cuddling into Grant’s chest to finally fall asleep.

I’ll be there on Monday. Pick me up at 6.

Grant stayed the night, and then was hurriedly called into work for the weekend for a run of shows that were last minute needing a technician. Hera sighed, disappointed that their weekend would have to be postponed, but she understood, nonetheless.

Out of all people, Hera would understand.

Hera debated on calling Harry all weekend and telling him that she would be there. On the day of the album release, Hera’s social media was flooded with congratulatory statements on the album and the radio was overwhelmed with his music. Like before, Hera couldn’t escape, even if she tried. Ultimately, she made the decision that she would simply show to the concert with her best friend and see what happens. Grant is only a phone call away if she needs to leave.

In the meanwhile, Isla did very little to hide her excitement about Hera joining her on Monday evening. Isla, nearly seconds after receiving the text, flooded Hera’s inbox with texts about what she should wear and what she would say, to which Hera dejectedly replied, “Isla, I don’t even know how I’m going to feel when I see him. Let me have a minute to think about what I’ll say.”

Isla took Grant’s place throughout the weekend, slinging a duffle over her shoulder and showing up at Hera’s house only an hour after she called, inviting her over for the few days that Grant would be gone before the show. Isla’s wedding is in a few short weeks, just under two months away, and Hera knew that she needed the time away from planning and the stress of it all – even if it was only a few blocks over at her best friend’s apartment. Hera and Isla’s days were spent with lounging around the living room and ordering in, cherishing their days off together and getting to talk about things other than the wedding.

Isla doesn’t ignore the elephant in the room, though. Hera knows it’s going to be spoken about eventually, she just, truthfully, doesn’t want to admit how she’s feeling about it.

One part of her, a very strong part, is anxious and very nervous to go. Everything is different, now. Harry and Hera haven’t seen each other in a year and a half, maybe longer, and everyone around them knows the secret she’s been trying to keep. His family will be there, and Hera will have to face two of the people that made her feel so special in the short time they were together, the two people she broke contact with afterwards. Hera will face his friends, the ones that called her after they split and begged her to just talk to him. Quite possibly the hardest one, will be facing Harry, himself, seeing the face of the man she loved so deeply, cared so much for, and risk all those emotions coming back at full force.

Another part of her, an increasingly growing part, is excited to go. Hera hasn’t seen her friends, her family in years. It’ll be a relief to see familiar faces, comforting smiles, and laugh with people she feels like she grew up with. Isla will be by her side, and there will be so many people there that she’s missed dearly. Sarah Jones possibly being the one she misses the most. Meeting new friends on the team, too, is something Hera always looks forward to. Hera has always felt most comfortable on tour, traveling, and meeting new people, and that’s exactly what she’ll get to do, tonight. Hera knows the risks, but she is very aware of the rewards that are waiting on the other end.

And as Hera is wrapped in her thoughts, Isla is in the bedroom simultaneously getting ready, nudging her towards the bodysuit and jeans that Hera had been debating on wearing for a few hours, claiming she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. Isla encouraged the outfit, knowing just how Harry would react to it. Hera isn’t blind to Isla’s intentions, and keeps reminding her that she is, in fact, with Grant. Beau is in the living room, waiting patiently for the two to finish getting ready. Hera and Isla made plans to join the after party – Isla made the plans – and they would need a designated driver home, queue the fiancé. Hera doesn’t say much as they get ready, letting Isla do most of the talking about the album and her favorite songs that Hera has yet to listen to and slyly mentioning that she may be joining the tour for the next leg, sharing her excitement for being on the road with their friends, once again.

“Are you excited, at all?” Isla wonders, smacking her lips together as she coats her mouth with gloss, her skin glistening under the lights of her bedroom.

“I mean, yeah, I suppose I am. It’s just, it’s weird. Knowing he’s going to be playing songs about me, with me there. Songs I wouldn’t know about if it wasn’t for Sarah and Mitch and you.”

“He’s excited to see you.” Isla meets Hera’s stare in the mirror. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t tell him? He’s been hounding me for weeks to get you to go.”

“This feels weird,” Hera mutters, pulling on her hair tightly to secure the hair in place, the curls falling loosely around her shoulders. “I feel like I shouldn’t be going.”

“Well, you may have to get over that feeling, my dear friend, because we have to go, otherwise we’re going to hit major traffic and never make it, and Harry will be up my ass about not seeing us before the show. Us, but mainly you.”

Hera sucks in a deep breath and nods, grabbing her purse from her dresser and opening her bedroom door, Isla following closely behind. Beau immediately stands and smiles at his fiancée, grabbing her hand and bringing her in for a kiss. Hera smiles fondly, happy that her best friend found someone that adores her as much as she deserves. Hera, in another life, always imagined that she and Harry would be the first of their friends to get married, to just one day decide and go to the courthouse and do it.

Hera shakes the thoughts from her head and follows her friends out to their car, climbing into the backseat and sending a message to Grant to let him know that she is on her way and wouldn’t be paying too much attention to her messages throughout the night, to call if he needs her. Grant assures her he would be okay and working, too, insisting on her going to have fun with her friends. Grant says he loves her, as he always does, and leaves her be.

Conversations in the car distract her for a while, enough to make it out of their neighborhood and to the venue in what feels like a blink. Hera sighs, getting out of the car and wiping her hands on her knees, the nerves growing every second.

Isla walks up first, smiling at security and giving their names. Hera is on the list.

It’s unusual, this feeling. Familiar but so foreign. Hera’s name has been on plenty of lists, especially in the last few years, but to be on Harry’s list again, it feels different.

Beau leads the way with Isla’s hand in his, walking past all of their equipment and road cases and all the different signages clinging to the rooms scattered through the hallways. Hera is in her own thoughts until she hears a familiar voice, Isla shouting, and Beau laughing. Her chest tightens, and she feels grateful that she’s hidden behind her two friends, in a way that makes her barely noticeable. Hera feels small, unsure, and her eyes dart behind her where she can make a break for it, leave without anyone saying anything. Hera is nearly turning on her heel to leave when Isla and Beau split apart, and the man she’s felt so conflicted on seeing steps between them, facing her head on, wearing the infamous crooked smile that always made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“You made it,” he says, his arms dangling awkwardly at his side, his lips parting in a softened smile. He steps forward and lowers his voice. “Can I hug you?”

Hera can’t find her voice, simply nodding and stepping forward, lifting her heavy arms from her sides, and wrapping them around his midsection, his arms coming around her shoulders and pulling her in tightly. Hera sighs, breathing him in and soaking in the familiarity of the cologne, the freshness of his toothpaste, the tightness of his arms around her body. Hera knows they’re standing there for a minute, maybe two, much longer than his hugs with Beau and Isla. Her voice is lost in her throat, and she wants to say so many things to him, to cry in his arms and say she misses him, but instead she tightens her arms around his waist and allows him to hold her.

“I’ve missed you, H. Missed you so much.”

Hera freezes, unable to say what she’s feeling without feeling guilty, and squeezes him tighter, before gently (and maybe a bit reluctantly) letting go. It’s painfully obvious that there are eyes on them, and if she’s going to say anything to him, she wants it to be private and on their own.

Harry loosens his grip, his hands falling to her arms and then her hands, his eyes travelling across her face, her body, soaking her in as though it’s a hallucination that she’s there, really there. Harry grabs Hera’s hand and intertwines their fingers, earning a smile from Isla and a warning glance from Beau. Harry shakes it off, walking forward and nodding them towards the dressing room where the band and the team were all congregated. The show begins in less than a half hour, and Harry would have to leave to get dressed and ready very soon, meaning Hera would be alone with her friends and she could figure out what she was going to say, when she was going to say it.

“Look who’s here!” Harry cheers as they walk in the room, Hera blushing instantly as their friends all stand and laugh and immediately rush over to greet her. Hera immediately feels at home, smiling brightly as she walks up to Sarah and wraps her in the tightest hug she could muster, willing the tears to go back and not ruin her face or Sarah’s outfit for the show. Mitch stands, holding their baby tightly in his arms and hugs her, smiling his infamous half smile and watching as his best friend admires the interactions from a distance. Mitch looks at her knowingly and she nods shyly, trying to avoid saying anything that will make the interaction uncomfortable for anyone, or say something she’s not ready to address just yet.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Sarah gushes, cupping her cheeks and bringing Hera in for another hug, squeezing her tightly and whispering in her ear, “Don’t shut us out, again, June. God, I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed you. Very much.”

Hera quickly wipes a tear from her cheek and nods. “God, I have missed you, Sarah Jones. I really have.”

“You and I, we have to get lunch. Make a day of it. Catch up on everything. I want to see my friend. I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re here. Harry mentioned it to me the other day, but I didn’t really believe him.” Sarah looks at Hera for a moment. “I’m sorry for how things turned out. I didn’t want us to stop being friends, though. I want you in my life. You’re my friend.”

“You will. I promise,” Hera swears, smiling and turning over her shoulder, making eye contact with Harry momentarily before he’s looking away and walking towards the hallway, presumably going to get changed for the evening. Hera’s heart drops to her stomach, willing the uneasiness to go away, and she feels the urge to follow him and talk to him privately, to have a few moments where they’re just themselves and there’s no one around to influence what they have to say to each other. Isla quickly draws Hera out of her thoughts to introduce her to the band, everyone giving her a warm hug and greeting and saying that they’ve heard so much about her. Hera smiles and talks for what feels like hours, the comfort of being with people she loves and that love her making her nerves drift away one by one.

“On in five, everyone!” Tommy calls from the hallway, poking his head in the doorway and immediately grinning when he sees Hera’s face in the corner. “Is that June? The June Collins!”

“Hi, Tommy,” Hera smiles, walking over and accepting his arms crushing around her. “Good to see you, my friend.”

“Good to see you, June. Let me take you upstairs. Harry saved the best seats in the house for you,” Tommy grins, linking their arms and gesturing for Isla and Beau to follow behind. He walks through the backstage area and to the stairs where the entrance to the balcony is, looking at Hera intently before saying, “Are you going to be okay? Harry told me he called you about the album.”

“I will be, yeah. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

Hera, Isla, and Beau climb the stairs to the balcony. Isla squeezes Hera’s hand when they get to the platform, Hera sucking in a deep breath and trying to ignore all the whispers that were starting to surround her as she walks through the aisle and gets to their seats. Hera can hear the whispers, “Is that Harry’s ex?”, “Aren’t there songs about her on the album?”, “Next to his family?” and the overwhelming desire to leave is almost too much to ignore or deny. Hera spots her exit, making a plan for leaving in case everything gets to be too much.

And as Hera is navigating her makeshift escape route, her name is called through the balcony by a voice she could never forget. “Hera!”

Gemma immediately stands and is walking towards her, wrapping her in a hug and squeezing her tightly. “Hi, love! How are you? It’s been so long.”

“I know, I know. It’s been forever,” Hera admits, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed by the love that washes over her for the women in front of her. Anne and Gemma were nothing but welcoming and warm to her, always, from the moment they met to the moment they left. Anne never let her feel anything short of a daughter, as someone she could go to in times of trouble and lean on when she needed. Gemma was the sister Hera never had, a friend and a companion in the streets of London. And Hera, who admittedly cannot handle losing people, isolated herself when things went wrong, and lost the family that loved her more than her own family had. Hera’s eyes feel wet when she blinks out her thoughts, Gemma still standing in front of her, holding her arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more,” Gemma smiles, reluctantly stepping aside when her mother gently nudges her shoulder.

“Hi, my dear,” Anne says warmly, wrapping her arms around Hera’s shoulders, much like her son, and squeezing her tightly. Hera takes deep breaths, willing herself not to break into sobs at the comfort of a mother’s hug, and her demeanor softens. “It’s so good to see you, here. Harry has not stopped talking about it. Having you here means everything to him. And to us. We’ve missed you.” Hera nods without saying a word. “Come on, you’re sitting next to me.”

Hera, Anne, Gemma, Isla, and Beau all make conversation in the meanwhile, talking about Anne’s travel down to London, Isla and Beau’s wedding, Hera’s most recent tours. Conversation flows easily, and for a moment, Hera forgets about everything that’s happened in the last two years, all the mistakes that were made and the regrets that are there, and she’s with her friends, with her family, and she’s home.

Isla nudges Hera’s side, nodding towards her knee where her phone is lighting up with a message. Hera quickly opens it, trying desperately to hide the smile on her face.

Happy to have you here. Always do better when you’re around. Enjoy the show. I’ll see you after. H x

Hera doesn’t have time to think of a response, because before she could muster up the courage to write anything, the lights are going dark, and the music is beginning to play. Anne and Gemma immediately stand, Isla and Beau following, and Hera shoves her phone in her pocket and follows suit. Everyone around her is screaming and cheering, and Hera can’t hide the smile on her face when Harry walks out and immediately finds her. He’s always done this; from the moment they started dating and she began attending his shows. He would find her first and foremost, everyone else could come after. Hera never doubted that he was in love with her. If there was one thing Hera knew for sure in this life, it was that Harry Styles was in love with her.

And that’s why when Harry begins giving the speech for “Matilda,” Hera has to hold back every emotion she’s feeling. Love. Heartbreak. Jealousy. Anger. Over the last two years, Hera has done everything in her power to accept that their story was a short chapter in her book, a thirty second clip in her movie, a singular song on the album. Hera has fought for her closure and to move on, to find love in other people, places, things. Hera has struggled to find home, to find family. And all of that, everything Hera has worked for, feels like it’s pouring down the drain as he introduces the song that she knows is meant for her.

Hera remembers the conversation like it was yesterday. Hera remembers the frustration pouring from Harry’s voice, his face, the way he was pacing around her apartment. Hera remembers the way he shouted at her, the way he said, “I hate to see you this way. I hate to see you so upset.” Hera remembers sobbing at the kitchen counter, sliding her phone towards him and for the very first time, allowing him to see all the things her mother has been saying to her.

“I just, I don’t understand why you continue to speak to them if they’re so cruel to you all the time,” Harry says, running his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “It’s killing you, Hera. All that they say to you is hurting you, every day. And yet, you still continue to pick up their calls and listen to them! I don’t understand. Make me understand.”

Hera couldn’t respond, she couldn’t tell him or make him understand. Hera couldn’t do anything, because, for a majority of her life, she never believed anything to be wrong. Hera clung to imaginary stories of mothers and daughters, of families that fought for each other instead of against, for films and novels that taught her she wouldn’t be alone forever. Hera cried until there were no more tears left in her body. Hera sat in silence while Harry calmed himself down, turning to her with tears in his eyes.

“Hera, baby, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve to be happy, you know. You deserve to have a family that loves you and cares for you. Family isn’t always blood, okay? Friends, friends can be family. Friends are sometimes the best family you can have. I love you. I’m your family now, okay? Me, my mum, and sister. Our friends. That’s your family. This, this has to stop with your family. You can’t keep doing this to yourself every time you speak to them.”

Isla smiles softly as Anne wraps her arms around Hera’s body, hugging her tightly and laying her cheek against her hair as the song echoes through the venue. Anne kisses her forehead sweetly, whispering, “We’re still your family. Always.” Hera can’t bring herself to say anything, tears falling helplessly down her cheeks. Isla rubs her back sweetly, leaning into her and giving as much silent support as she could muster.

Hera looks to Harry and smiles, listening to everyone in the venue sing the song back to him. Hera can see the friends holding each other, the tears falling down cheeks, the way that everyone in some way seems to understand the pain she was going through in that moment, the pain she still continues to go through every day. Hera wants to give everyone a hug, to tell them that she understands. Hera knows the pain, the suffering that entails when your relationship with your family isn’t what you want it to be, isn’t what it should be. Hera has learned, however, that the friends you make along the way, can sometimes be the family you were always meant to have.

“Are you okay? That was a lot, I know. We can go outside for a minute, if you want,” Isla whispers, leaning towards Hera and squeezing her hand. Beau halfway steps out of the row, one foot in and one foot out, gesturing for the exit, but Hera quickly shakes her head, Isla smiling widely and suspiciously.

“I’m okay. Thank you, though. I want to see the rest of the show. I’m enjoying it,” Hera assures her friends, shaking her head and taking a deep breath to gather her emotions. Hera returns her attention to the stage and Harry grins at her, and when she smiles back, she swears she can see a blush on his cheeks. “Harry looks good. Happy.”

“Of course, he’s happy, Hera. Harry’s singing an album that just released to the person it’s about,” Isla says with a laugh, shaking her head dramatically. Isla was always the one to point out the obvious between Harry and Hera, even when Hera didn’t want to believe it.

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

“You.”

Hera goes quiet, unsure of what to say. Could Harry look as happy as he does because Hera is there? Maybe. Could the album be about her? Possibly. All Hera would have to do is ask for Harry to tell her. All of the questions that are swirling around her head suddenly get shoved to the corner of her mind when a security guard walks to the edge of the aisle and motions for the group to follow him, presumably backstage for the party when the show would finish.

Hera can hear Harry bidding his goodbyes to the audience as they walk backstage, her nerves beginning to bundle together and multiply as it gets even closer to the moment that’s been waiting to happen for two years, now. Harry and Hera alone, talking, sharing the things that have happened since they’ve been apart.

Hera has a beer in her hand and is talking to Gemma about the latest tour she’s working on when everyone begins to cheer and congratulate the man of the hour as he walks inside the room. Alcohol is being shoved in a million different directions and the band is beginning to file into the dressing room for everyone to talk and mingle in. Hera turns around and is immediately greeted with a sweaty hug, and she welcomes it, the feeling of his arms around her and the scent of him overwhelming her senses and the way everyone in the room seemingly disappears while they have this moment together, just the two of them. Harry grins at her and kisses her cheek without warning, and Hera can feel her face heating under his stare.

“Hi, H.” Harry’s smile couldn’t get any bigger if he tried. “Can I steal you away from my sister for a minute? I’d like to talk to you alone before everyone is pulling me in a million different directions and I don’t get to see you before you have to leave. Would that be okay with you?”

Hera smiles and nods, purposefully ignoring Isla’s grinning from across the room. Harry leads the way out of the mass of people and towards his dressing room a few doors down the hallway. Hera walks in first and sets her drink on the counter, Harry following behind quickly after shutting the door. Moments pass as the two stand together in the silence, both a bit unsure of what to say first. Hera looks at Harry longingly, and for the first time all night, she’s grateful they’re alone together, that she can say what she has to, and they can start over, as friends, and be in each other’s lives again, because the years that she’s spent without him, without her family, have been awful. Hera misses him, misses him deeply, and she’ll do anything to have him around, even if it’s in a limited capacity.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, to say this, but nothing leaves her tongue when Harry walks forward. He stands in front of her silently, his eyes travelling across her face and trying to gauge her emotions, how she’s feeling. Harry grabs her hands, holding her fingers to his heart, his heart beating erratically against her skin. He stares at her, as though the hallucination of her is going to disappear without a second thought, and he soaks in everything about this moment – that Hera is here, with him, and she’s happy to see him, to talk to him, to be alone with him. Harry has waited far too long for this, for this very moment, and there are so many things that he wants to say to her, to confess and share. He doesn’t know where to start, and by the looks of it, neither does Hera. Harry wants to go first, to get out everything before she can run away and never look back.

“Hera, I,” Harry breathes, struggling to maintain a steady rhythm as the emotions and the feelings of her touch on his skin start to cloud his judgement and his thoughts. “I’ve missed you. I miss you so much, Hera.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Harry. I have. Life hasn’t been the same without you in it.”

Harry’s eyes move from her own to her mouth, tracing over the flesh that he once knew so well. He quickly blinks back tears, breaking his stare and shaking his head, squeezing her hands before letting their hands fall from his chest. Harry sighs, swallowing all the heartbreak in his throat when he says, “You didn’t have to shut me out, H. I could’ve been around, even after everything. I wanted to be around. We all did, Hera. All of us, we all have missed you so much.”

“I couldn’t see you after, Harry. It was too hard for me. I understand that it was hard for you, I know that, but for me, I couldn’t. And that included our friends.”

“And now?”

“I just want to be around. I miss my friends. My family. I miss you.” Harry nods, his tongue poking between his lips, wetting the puffy pink flesh as his green eyes trace over her mouth. “I need to be around you all. It’s the best thing for me. In every sense of the word.”

“I need to be around you, Hera,” Harry whispers, leaning his forehead against hers, his mouth hovering dangerously close to her own.

“Harry, I, I can’t,” Hera sighs, the moment breaking and the realization beginning to hit her. Grant is waiting for her to call. Guilt is eating away at her already for being alone with him and remotely thinking about kissing him. Her emotions are confusing her, and she feels hazy, clouded. Her hands travel from her thighs to his shoulders, gently pushing his away.

“I shouldn’t ask to kiss you, I know, I’m sorry, I just, I need to, Hera. It’s been so long without you. I missed you. Us. Seeing you with Mum and Gemma and our friends and everything. I just, I need to kiss you. I miss you, Hera.”

“That’s not it, Harry. I, I miss you, too. I’m horrible for saying this, I know I am. All of this is so confusing and giving the worst signals to each other. All that I didn’t want to happen when we talked. I wanted to come and talk to you, tonight, to be friends. I just, I can’t kiss you. Not now.”

“Why is that so horrible? What’s wrong with saying that?” Harry can feel his insides churning, the anxiety and the nerves with what she’s about to say. Harry can tell something is off, the way she’s feeling guilty for this. He has a feeling, a gut feeling, and he’s praying that it’s wrong.

“Harry, I, I’m–”

Harry takes a step back, his hands running over his face and through his hair. He knows. Hera can tell that he knows and he’s struggling to say it. “You’re dating someone. Aren’t you? That’s the reason you can’t kiss me.” Hera nods without saying a word. “Is it new?” Hera shakes her head. “How long, Hera?”

“Over a year.”

Harry turns around, not wanting Hera to see the way his mouth begins to tremble, and his eyes are welling with tears. “Over a year. Congratulations.”

“Harry.”

“No, really. I mean that, Hera! That’s great, H! Good for you. Must be going well if it’s been over a year,” Harry says overly enthusiastically, and Hera can tell that he’s hurting. He won’t stare into her eyes, and he’s switching the weight from his feet over and over again. “Such a shame you didn’t bring them to the show tonight, I could’ve met them! Made a good introduction for myself. Could’ve made a new friend in the meanwhile.”

“He couldn’t make it, tonight,” Hera says sadly, wiping away the tears that are beginning to fall from her eyes involuntarily. Her voice lowers with her next statement. “He told you that.”

Harry turns around quickly, his eyes going wide and his lips pursing together in a straight line, everything beginning to make sense in his head as he adds the pieces together. All the conversations that Grant and Harry had about dating someone new and falling in love and moving on. Harry feels a wave of jealousy and anger wash over him. “Grant. As in, my friend Grant. Grant that worked for me. You’ve been dating Grant for a year and a half. And no one thought to tell me?” Harry stands in silence for a moment, stunned. “That is so fucked, Hera.”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” Harry turns around, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his back meeting her stare. He can’t look at her. Not now. Not after what she’s told him. “Harry.”

“You think that’s okay? That you’re dating my friend? Might as well have told me that you’re sleeping with my brother!”

“Harry, I am sorry that it’s Grant and that no one told you. It just happened.” Hera is crying, now, trying to wipe her cheeks and explain herself without losing her voice and her strength. Harry shakes his head. “This happened months after we broke up. Quarantine was happening, you were gone, and I was alone in London. We weren’t talking. Grant was there for me through all of it and asked me out after six months of crying over you and Isla telling me I needed to get out there if I wasn’t going to pick up the phone and call you. News articles were saying that you were already dating someone new. I, I didn’t want to be alone and still crying over someone that was rumored to be already dating someone new! That’s not fair, you know? I just, I am really sorry that no one told you, that I didn’t tell you sooner. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Have you forgotten that you broke up with me, Hera? Have you forgotten that tiny detail?” Harry asks sarcastically, scoffing as he walks towards her. “I was on dates trying to forget you. Have you ever thought of that? Did you ever think to call me and ask what I was doing?”

“Harry.”

“I have spent every day for the last two years miserable that I am not with you. Miserable. I think about you constantly. I write songs about you. I talk to my mother about you. I stare at your fucking social media just to see pictures of you. And you, you started dating my friend, haven’t spoken a word to me or our friends, and moved on like it didn’t matter. Like I never mattered to you. That is what hurts the most out of this. Not that it’s Grant. Not that I know him. That I didn’t matter to the person that mattered, that matters the most to me.”

“Harry, it is not like that. Out of all people, out of everyone, you mattered the most to me. I just, I wanted different things back then. I still want different things than you. Grant wants the same things as me. Grant and I, we want a future. He understands not having a family and wanting to make one of your own.”

“You never asked me what I wanted. You assumed based on one conversation you overheard. You never asked, Hera.” Harry looks at Hera for the first time in what feels like hours. “I wrote that song for you, to tell you that I listened, and that I wanted to see you make a family. I wanted to be in that family. And you didn’t even give me the chance.”

“Harry, listen to me,” Hera breathes, coming away from the dresser and walking towards him, cautiously bringing her hands to his cheeks, and making him look into her eyes. “I want you in my life. I miss you. I have missed you more than you know. I don’t want to continue not speaking. I don’t. I am very sorry that we didn’t tell you.” Hera looks at Harry softly, her heart breaking when he brings his hands to her wrists and gently pulls her hands from his face. “I am sorry, Harry. I really am.” Harry doesn’t say anything. He can’t. “I’ll go, okay? I’m sorry for ruining your night. I am. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I don’t, I don’t want you to go, Hera.”

Hera looks at Harry, her hand on the doorknob and her heart beating rapidly in her chest, unsure of what to do. “Harry, what do you want me to do, then? I miss having you as my friend. I want you in my life. I don’t want another year, two years, ten years to go by without us speaking.”

“I, I don’t know if I can just be your friend, Hera. I don’t know if I could ever just be your friend.” Hera nods, not knowing what is coming next. Hera tries to brace herself for the idea that she may never see him again, that she may never have the chance of a family with him in it. “Can we meet for coffee, tomorrow? I, I want to talk to you, alone, and we can catch up on everything I’ve missed. I, I need to talk to you about this when I’m calm and not running off adrenaline and all the emotions from seeing you.”

“Okay,” Hera says softly, turning the knob and opening the door, already beginning to walk out into the hallway.

“Are you happy, Hera?” Harry says quickly, running his hands through his hair and trying to catch his breath. All of this is too much at once, too much information and feeling and confusion for the fifteen minutes they’ve been alone. Harry walks forward, grabs her wrist and says, “Like, really happy? You would tell me if you weren’t?”

“I think, yeah, I think I’m getting there.” Harry nods and Hera turns towards the room where everyone is waiting for their return. “I think we should go back. Gemma and Anne are likely looking for you. And Isla is going to look for me soon.”

“Of course, yeah,” Harry says, smiling softly and moving towards the doorway to the room. “Are you coming in?”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” Hera smiles, waving her hand towards the congregation of people in the dressing room and turning on her heel. Hera grabs her phone from her back pocket and dials the number she knows by heart, waiting patiently for it to ring. As long as Hera can remember, it never takes more than a ring or two for the call to be answered, and sure enough, on the first ring there is a voice coming through the other line. “Hey,” she says, immediately feeling washed over with comfort.

“Hi, baby. How was the show? Missed you all day.”

#harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #delicate point of view #1d harry #1d harry styles #harry 1d #harry styles 1d #harry x #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry fic #harry fanfic #1d fan fic #1d fanfiction #1d fan fiction #1d fic #1d ff

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daisyblog · 23 days

Text

Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”.

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life.

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”.

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”.

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”.

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album.

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice.

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”.

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

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savebylou · 2 months

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One Direction tribute on Niall's show!!!!

credit: holdOnEn see part of the colors here and here, the performance here.

#😭😭😭🤧#one direction #niall horan #tslot #the show live on tour #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #harry styles #stockholm syndrome #niall's covers #1d covers #that is so sweet #i put the other photo so you can see the colors of the microphones in case ssomeone doesn't know #dublin n2

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lilystyles · 10 days

Text

blank space.

part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

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

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to.

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow.

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop.

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other.

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word.

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much.

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how.

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off.

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes.

“Anything?” He asked mischievously.

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was.

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??”

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh.

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed.

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there.

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest.

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings.

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her?

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking.

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n.

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too?

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession.

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response.

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment.

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised.

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him?

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face.

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome.

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again.

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her.

She was so adorable.

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip.

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.”

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly.

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry.

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl.

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath.

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him.

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off.

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back.

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin.

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him.

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name.

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry.

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth.

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was.

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

“Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show.

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry.

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her.

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class.

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing.

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked.

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry.

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those!

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips.

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

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