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eveningepiphany · 10 months

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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles smut #famous harry #fan! y/n #fangirl! y/n #italyrry #he’s so cute

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crystalflygeo · 10 months

Text

How to train your dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: dom bottom!reader and subtop!zhongli YEEAAAAH WE DOING THIS BABES. Collaring/Leash. pet play. primal play. praise kink. bit of shibari at the start. oral on reader.Zhongli has dragon features (horns/tail/tongue) but only 1 dick this time tho//hit.

notes: I ABSOLUTELY BLAME @zhxngii BECAUSE SHE AWAKENED MY INNER DOM. I DIDN'T KNOW I COULD DOM??? //HIT also @silentmoths bc together we brainrotted this idea I am so fucking WEAK for petplay dcbhbchjkancjak //rabid horny crys noises.

Light breathy moans escape your lips as you shift slightly against the bed headboard, back arching and biting your lip at the heated pleasure.

Your spread legs twitch a little as you groan, right hand tugging just slightly at the leash held in it. "Hng... fuck, t-that's a good boy..."

The pull of the collar around Zhongli's neck makes him press even closer against your pussy, licking and sucking more insistently at your wet folds. Long hair cascading down his back, though some strands drape around his shoulders and tickle at your skin.

You keen, free hand gripping so hard at the bed covers your knuckles turn white. The man buried between your legs dives in with as much raw passion as a certain determination. With his arms tied behind his back, Zhongli tilts his head for a better angle and his nose presses against your mound, sinful long tongue drawing wet stripes along your core and flicking at your clit, teasing the little pearl and earning him more of your sweet sounds.

The sight, coupled with the hot, wet slide of Zhongli's mouth steadily surrounding you, buzzes like electricity under your skin, leaving your fingers tingling and pooling more fire in your core.

"S-so good for me..." You can't help but roll your hips towards him, searching for that delicious friction. "So well trained and behaved hmmm-"

His long dragon tail sways after him at that.

Working his tongue sinuously against you. Each fluttering motion sends sparks up your spine, until your heart is pounding in your chest in anticipation and your head is swimming with arousal. Zhongli snakes that long dragon tongue inside you, probing carefully and slowly at your insides and feeling you clench. The motion has your thighs trembling and you let out a loud whine, unconsciously tugging at the leash again on reflex. Heat screws directly into your gut, surging with each swipe and flick of his tongue, dragging in and out of you, the wet muscle reaching deeper every time. Each little noise that falls from your mouth seems to spur him on, increasing his speed until your toes are curling at the sheets, body taut with pleasure.

"Yes, yes... oh! Ooohh... m-make me cum... and I'll let you- hng- fuck me. You want that don't you?" You coo, free hand releasing the sheets to instead curl around one of his golden antlers.

The reaction is instantaneous as Zhongli purrs.

"F-Fuck!" Waves of pleasure crash down on you at the vibrations against your sensitive folds, cresting higher each time, and you toss your head back. Skin burning, muscles trembling, breath stuttering until every sensation peaks abruptly with an obscene shuddering moan, leaving you helpless to keep from coming in Zhongli's mouth.

Distantly, you feel him growl against your pussy, retracting his tongue to slurp and lick at your juices instead like they’re the sweetest ambrosia.

You ride out the flood of heat, gasping for breath as your body slowly melts into relaxation, and when the tide recedes, you blink the dots out of your vision and look down to see the dragon lapping gently at your core, cleaning up your arousal. “Good boy...” You rasp, letting go of his antler to card your fingers along his dark hair, fingers massaging idly at his scalp.

Those bright golden eyes stare up at you with adoration and your heart flips in your chest.

Zhongli nuzzles at your inner thighs as you enjoy the fading glow of your orgasm before you start shifting and tug gently on his collar to make him pull back. He lets out a huff.

You sit up and surge forward, cupping his face in your hands. "Hmm, you really are so good for me, aren't you?" You nuzzle at him, planting kisses around his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. He sighs and relaxes, tail once again wagging after him. "My beautiful beloved dragon..." You nip at his neck and he inhales sharply. From the corner of your eye, you see his large erection twitch. Straining against his stomach and drooling tacky precum, the head flushed in a lovely dark color.

"Well, we made a deal, didn't we?" You whisper against his skin as your hand lowers down to rub against his length, giving him a couple of lazy strokes as he lets out a mix between a whine and a moan as his hips buckle against your hand. “You earned it…” You coo at his ear.

Even though he could have shredded them apart at any time, he lets you painstakingly undo the knots at his arms and unwind the rope from them. You rub and massage a little at the wrists and muscles, leaving another kiss at his forearm as he flexes them a little. In seconds you find yourself caged under his larger frame, pressed against the bed and crossing stares with him.

His golden eyes are feral, simmering under his skin you can almost feel the scales flickering to life, to burst free. The dragon claws and howls within its cage, every instinct carved within his ancient bones demanding he take action, demanding freedom from the confines of his mortal guise.To take him mate and claim you, breed you.

And yet he stays still. For you. Hanging on your words.

You stroke your hands along his skin, before going up and curling a finger around the collar, appreciating the lewd contrast of the black color against his skin. You fidget a little with it. “Do you want me to keep the leash on or not?” You ask coyly. “You can speak.”

“Anything you want.” He replies evenly.

You chuckle. “I am asking you though, this is your prize after all…”

He bends down a little until his forehead rests against yours. “My prize is you. In any way you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the sincerity and pure desire in his words.

“Keeping it on then…” You say, giving a quick peck against his lips before you shift and roll over, pulling a pillow closer to your chest, burying your cheek on it as you stare at him over your shoulder, hand pulling at said leash just a bit.

He straddles your legs and you feel his cock rub against your ass. His hands at both sides of you with one of them intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Now… give me a good fucking, my pet…”

You feel a clawed hand guiding your hips and finally, the blunt head of his cock prods at your entrance. Zhongli shoves forward and you gasp as he slips inside. Your walls stretch to accommodate him and you moan low in your chest from the steady drag, head falling forward. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated and you shiver at the sensation of being so full.

The hand at your hip slides underneath to press against your stomach and the sound that escapes you is pure sin. Zhongli seems to like it, since he presses harder and his hips jerk, shifting his cock inside you, giving aborted little thrusts and eliciting another high-pitched whine.

“D-don’t- Don’t tease me-!” You jerk the leash. His chest pressing against your back. “Behave.”

Zhongli nips at your shoulder and growls.

“Don’t get an attitude with me or I’ll change my mind.”

Zhongli grumbles low in his chest and your chuckle is cut short as he quickly pulls out and slams forward again before you can even process, you’re empty.

“Fuck-!”

Detaching from your back, he holds your hips again and thrusts once more, using his grip to drag you back against him, holding you there so you can feel every inch of his cock filling you up, rubbing and touching you so deeply it was too much and simply not enough. You gasp and whine, eyelids fluttering. Zhongli slides out, then back in, gaining speed with each tantalizing stroke until his pelvis is slapping loudly against your ass.

Every thrust snaps an electric spark as the dragon practically mounts you, rocking you against the mattress until your thighs are trembling and you’re muffling your moans and squeals against the pillow. Zhongli is panting above you, each rasping breath rattling with a gusty exhale, catching on the growl building within his chest. Blood pounding in your ears, heart rattling as his pace chases even faster, reaching a desperate frenzy; The hot rigid length filling you over and over again blurs into a steady, burning stream of sensation.

You let Zhongli use your body like a feral animal in rut, every thrust punching out a pitiful noise out of your lips, stars dancing in your eyes and heat surging until you’re nearly incoherent with it, drooling against the pillow.

Your trembling hand yanks weakly at the leash and his pace stutters, you call out to him with a whine, teary eyes begging at him and he surges forward in an open-mouthed kiss, filthy and clumsy with how you both are worked up right now.

“Good-” You choke out against his lips. “T-That’s a good boy, Li-”

He growls with satisfaction, losing his even rhythm as his thrusts become sloppy, recklessly slamming in and out of your warm heat. His tail wraps around one of your legs.

“Such a good pet for me-” Your nails dig into your palms, one of them tangled with the leash, the other held by Zhongli’s for dear life. “Come on… come on, Li… c-cum inside me-”

The dragon slams a few more times against you before burying himself completely inside, going rigid as a loud groan tears out through gritted teeth. You all but mewl at the familiar feeling of his hot cum seeping inside you, body shaking with your own release as the heat climbing through your body overflows with a blinding flash.

You whimper and whine as you ride the dizzying wave of pleasure, vision blurred, mouth hanging open.

Once the peak ebbs away, you’re left with trembling limbs and a heaving chest, sagging on the bed exhausted.

Zhongli gingerly slides out making you moan softly at the now unpleasant emptiness, your combined fluids running down your legs. You twist sluggishly onto your side and pull him down not by the leash this time, but by wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He presses and nuzzles against you and you let out a breathy tired chuckle. “Good boy…” You mumble.

He intertwines your hands again and pulls them up to kiss at the back of your hand, then your knuckles. “Hm… I do believe no one had ever called me those names before.”

Had you not been so tired, you’d be more embarrassed about the whole ordeal, but right now you can only manage a bashful smile. “Well… did the mighty lord of geo enjoy being my pet?” You ask, fingers tracing the black collar around his neck.

“I did.”

“You want to… try it again sometime?”

“If you want to.” He replies, his gaze warm and affectionate, scanning your face searchingly. “Did you enjoy it, my dear?”

You avert your eyes, a blush finally creeping in your face as the adrenaline washes off with the calm atmosphere. “I… really did.” Your hand moves up from the collar to his cheek. “You’re always so good to me, Li.”

“Hm, I simply love you. My mate…” Zhongli leans in close, the tip of his nose tracing a path along your cheek.

“I love you too.” You close the few inches of distance between your lips and kiss him, slow and meaningful.

He kisses back immediately, sinking into it with a low, throaty croon. Suddenly you find yourself on your back with him pushing you into the mattress, the leash and strands of his hair dangling over your sweaty skin, and his hips rolling up to yours.

You swat at his shoulder playfully. “No! Bad dragon! Insatiable-! That’s all you get!”

Zhongli chuckles, deep and rich voice making your heart skip. He nuzzles into the space between your shoulder and neck once more before pulling back and sitting up on the bed. “Let’s go take a bath, then.”

“Oh, so we’re back to you giving the orders? You’re still wearing the collar, you know?”

“I suppose I am. In that case, whatever my sweet mate demands…”

“A bath sounds good.” You chuckle. He nods and stands up, you get only a few seconds to admire his body before he picks you up, ignoring your squeal, and heads over to the bathroom. Hopefully, only to get cleaned up…

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incorrect-koh-posts · 2 months

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"Young Baldwin seems to have possessed a naturally strong constitution, and he was also gifted with undeniable qualities of character and a strong, lively intelligence. William of Tyre, who was his tutor, says that 'in his childhood he was very handsome, with a quick and open mind, and he rode very well, better than his forebears had done.' 'Never forgetting an injury, and still less a kindness,' he had 'a retentive memory, was well educated with an excellent memory for tales and a fondness for telling them.'

The child must have realized very early that his disease was incurable, and his reaction shows great strength of character. He wanted to forget and make everyone else forget, right up to the end, that he was sick. But by the time King Amalric died, young Baldwin's disease had made such progress that it was already beginning to show, and 'the people of the kingdom felt great grief when they looked at him.'

From 1175 onward, the regent and the barons of Jerusalem were able to count on an unexpected ally, and a more valuable one than might have at first been thought. At fourteen years the young King Baldwin emerged as an intrepid fighter, capable of leading his troops into battle and later on of commanding them personally in the field. He was seen at the side of the constable and the Count of Tripoli, riding at the head of his troops and taking part in raids and diversionary campaigns [...]. At the time the King was still too young to actually command his army, and his principal function was as a symbol and an inspiration for his men. They were all happier marching under command of their lawful King. Young though he was, he was like the flag, to be protected and followed through the thickest of the fight, and he was not afraid of personal danger. [...]

When he came to the throne, he had [...] been a leper for ten years, and although the disease did not begin to make rapid strides until puberty, it must, even in early adolescence, have weakened and exhausted him. It is unlikely that anyone would have dared to reproach him had he wished to consider himself an invalid, yet he behaved as though he were perfectly well.

He had been educated, as became a prince, by knights and masters of arms and also by churchmen [...], and these had not failed to teach him patience and prepare him for the harsh trial that was to be his life, and to arouse in him a sense of duty and pride in being, despite his infirmity, King of Jerusalem and Defender of the Holy Sepulcher. Whether as a result of education or temperament, Baldwin IV seems to have had little inclination to self-pity. The young King overcame his illness with all the determination of an adolescent who knows he is physically weak and is bent on proving to everyone, himself included, that he can equal and even surpass others. He may have been a king who had the misfortune to be a leper, but he was also a leper lucky enough to be a king.

He loved power because it was all life had to offer him, and he very early evinced a wish to govern by himself, and would not tolerate disobedience. A temperament of this kind can easily degenerate into tyranny and capriciousness in one so young, but Baldwin IV had a lively and precociously mature mind, and was sincerely concerned to do his best for the good of the kingdom; and this right up to the time when his sufferings began to drive him out of his mind. [...] Up to the last moment he wanted to be a king and a general, and he wanted to be obeyed. It was his way of clinging to life, and he was a terrible fighter."

- Zoé Oldenbourg, The Crusades (1966)

#i have been reading old books again and oldenbourg's unabashed baldwin fangirling is too delicious not to share #like girl you're supposed to be writing a history book not fanfiction #baldwin iv #historiography #kingdom of heaven 2005 #crusades #zoe oldenbourg

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little-bird-of-heaven · 2 months

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(affectionately)

#guess who watched the outsiders for the first time in three years #and is going to make it everyone's problem #started writing a fanfic about dallas a while ago #and just never finished it #so now i'm thinking about rewriting it and posting it here #anyways #dallas winston #dally winston #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #prism-fangirls

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elizabethminkel · 5 months

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I'm extremely excited to announce that I'm writing a column on fans and fandom for Atlas Obscura!!! And the first piece went up today!!! This one is on sentiment albums—a variation on the commonplace book—and the threads connecting them to modern fan practices.

FYI: This piece features the work of the brilliant Dr. Evan Hayles Gledhill, who first introduced me to these albums when they were our guest on ep 10 (!!) of @fansplaining approx. 8,000 years ago.

It also features my own pre-modern-internet sentiment album. 🥰

#my writing #atlas obscura #fandom #fangirls #sentiment albums #commonplace books #buffy the vampire slayer #rupert giles #(hero librarian)

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enixamyram · 29 days

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So, we all know the first season was a little rushed since they only had 8 episodes to work with. It is my (desperate) hope that since the show is doing so well, they'll be given more episodes for season 2. Now let's pretend they'll be given enough for filler episodes as well as the main story. Here are some of my dream filler episodes I would love to see happen!

A Chaggie date (Vaggie sees Charlie is getting stressed and worries about her so she insists on taking her out for a night off.)

A Keekee and Fat Nugets episode (something happens and the two end up away from the hotel and work together to find their way back home.)

An Earth Visit (not sure why, but somehow for some reason, Charlie and co visit earth for a day and chaos ensures because how could it not.)

Emily Visits Hell (maybe brings Molly with? It would be kind of hilarious for people from Heaven to see how it really is like in Hell. Maybe this is Charlie trying to get them to be more part of the hotel transition.)

A Blackout Episodes (One of those, how various people deal with something -Vox- causing a blackout throughout the city. Maybe even one of those Charlie or Vaggie gets stuck in a lift with Velvette or someone to have some fun interactions between different characters.)

A Gambling Episode (No idea the story but at some point it involves Husk making some bets to let off steam and Angel ends up tagging along as arm candy and I read somewhere that Husk cheats so maybe Angel helps him!)

Lucifer rejoins society (he attempts to pick up his role as King of Hell but finding it increasingly hard since his long absence and preppy attitude means not many people take him seriously.)

Nifty chaos (maybe she somehow wanders from the hotel while Alastor is away so Chalie and the others try to find her, worried she'll get hurt, meanwhile she's terrorizing the rest of hell and just having a blast before they eventually find her safe and sound if not covered in a lot of someone else's blood.)

Overlords episode (Maybe Charlie or Lucifer want to try and get on the good side of the overlords so try and spend some time with each of them to get to know them better.)

The Vees meets Hangover (this one is really silly and in general I just want a Vee filler but it'd also be hilarious if there was a Hangover style one where one of them - take your pick, it'd be hilarious either way - goes missing after a bender and the other two struggle to put together what happened to find them.)

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iloveslllycatss · 1 year

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What about Miguel and reader having a movie night??

## — “𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒”

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘻 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ! 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ! 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘴.

“we are so stupid. why did we pick a horror movie out of all movies.”

“WE???!?!?! y/n, amor that was all YOU”

you two had been watching horror movies for the last 4 hours, this was his way of making it up to you after he came back from mexico. its not that you were mad at him or anything, just worried. and he felt guilty for leaving you behind, so this is how he makes up for it.

“miguel. i want water but im too lazy to get it.. and even if i WERE to get it, im too scared to go to the kitchen by myself….. can u come with me to get water 😞”

“yeah, babe. of course i can” he smiles, following you into the kitchen. when you two had made it there, you accidentally dropped something on the table, causing another thing to drop onto the floor… scaring you

“FUCK NO PLZ DONT KILL ME NUN PLZ” you yelled, terrified for ur life until u heard miguel giggle behind you and start to tease you, sneaking his arms around your waist from behind. “dont worry amor, i’ll protect you from the nun” and you decided to tease right back

“with your ninja skills?”

his jaw DROPPED. you did NOT. just say that. his karate moves were NOT ninja skills, he wasnt actually offended, but he let his fake offended face show up. causing you to giggle

…

after you two had got back into the living room, you cuddling right back up to your lover, he smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder. all was great until… a jumpscare popped up……….. you JUMPED.

“awe migUEL FUCKING HELL HOLY SHIT”

miguel loved the way you hid your face in his chest when jumpscares came up, he loved the way you’d pout after it happened, complaining about the directors adding them in. he loved how you’d cling to him to the rest of the movie with him continuously telling you he’d protect you from all the monsters, giving u a wee bit of reassurance….

“amor dont worry, your very strong and handsome boyfriend will protect you from those monsters”

“miguel u kinda look like that one”

“bye.”

after the movie ended, you were scared shitless. you couldnt evej go to the DAMN BATHROOM without asking miguel to stand infront of the door and talk to u while you were pissing so you can assure he didnt leave you by urself. then after you got out, you’d look to him and ask

“one more?”

he groaned

“no more horror movies, y/n”

and your reply?

“youre a pussy, miguel”

@/ilovesillycats

plz don’t copy my work 😞

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chanshoesunite · 2 years

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Imagine Chan making you come in the shower

When you hear the shower curtain rustling behind you, you don’t need to turn around to know that your boyfriend Chan is joining you in your morning shower. You had to get up early for class and had wanted to let him sleep in, but a smile plays on your lips knowing that he didn’t want to let you go to uni without seeing you first. Seconds later, you feel his body press against yours, and – oh.

His left hand finds your breast, immediately playing with your nipple, as his other hand snakes between your legs and he plunges two fingers inside of you without warning. You throw your head back against him as a rough moan escapes your throat, and you can feel him kissing your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he rasps into your ear. “I figured that you’re in a hurry, so I can’t fuck you properly. But I’ll tell you what’s going to happen now, princess: You’re going to come on my fingers like a good girl and then I want you on your knees for me.” He nips at your shoulder and starts fingering you in earnest while his other hand stimulates your nipples, your clit, presses you against him, moves over your skin, exploring freely. His fingers inside you feel so good, and the whole situation, with his strong body behind you and the warm water spraying down on you, feels simultaneously vulnerable and comfortable, which makes it all the more erotic.

Chan is whispering dirty little nothings into your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, how wet you are, that you’re so sexy, too hot to resist, a dirty little slut. It’s this mixture of sweet and demeaning that you like so much, and he knows it, and your arousal rises and rises.

“Come on, YN, be a good girl and come for me,” he growls, and it’s that rough voice that does it for you. You come on his fingers, shaking against him, and Chan stills his movements to feel you spasm around him. A few seconds later, when you’ve caught your breath, he turns you around to kiss you deeply, and you give in to his powerful gesture, letting him claim your lips and explore your mouth.

Then he pulls back, and there’s a menacing smile on his lips causing his eyes to glint in mischief. “All right, baby girl. My turn. On your knees.”

#bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #straykids smut #stray kids smut #author hare #tortoise: i am just such a fangirl for hare's writing

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hapinesbuterfiy · 2 months

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this is probably so random but imagine rafe taking his girl to the eras tour and she dresses him up to match her outfit and he’s pretending like he would rather be anywhere else but he lowkey loves it 🥺

this is so terribly me coded (rafey pls buy me miami eras tix so i can see taygracie again i beg you) <3 this is very s!3 rafe to me, ultimate daddy energy.

. ༘⋆⭐🪩🫶 ⋆˙

your a swiftie. a hardcore one for that matter. being a swiftie, however, tends to be an expensive hobby. luckily for you, your trust fund baby of a boyfriend rafe cameron came in clutch with two floor seats to the eras. and luckily for him he's getting the full eras tour experience!

rafe, being used to your antics already, made you well aware that he was not dressing up from the second he bought you the tickets. "'m not puttin' on a stupid costume for this alright? you do that. you're not ropin' me in this time." you inevitably ignore his protests, and come to a compromise. maybe he isn't wearing a full-on costume but, he cannot look boring in the presence of the taylor swift!

it's the morning of the concert. you of course begin getting ready at 10am, you had to prepare for a busy day of instagram photos, friendship bracelet trading, and screaming your favorite songs alongside your favorite people, your boyfriend and taylor swift!

it's only fitting that you opt for a couples costume. you couldn't get him to the heartbreak prince as you originally planned for, so instead he simply wore a white t-shirt with "KARMA" printed onto it in big pink letters and his signature ray bans. you, however, are completely decked out! a taygracie cowgirl hat sits pretty on your head alongside your glittery makeup, "karma is my boyfriend" rhinestoned baby tee, sequin pink mini skirt, and cowgirl boots.

"rafey! you look so cute. you studied the setlist right? i cannot have you making a fool out of me in front of mother." you chirp, squeezing onto his bicep as you walk into the stadium. "mother? you're insane. yes the setlist is memorized didn't wanna deal with your complainin' ass when this shits' over." he pretends that he's not going to have fun, but you know he will, being that you caught him listening to all too well 10 minute version in the shower while he thought you were asleep. at least he put the work in!

he's in a typical rafe mood, brooding and boring with a firm grip on your hand, following you around like a lost puppy with an irate facial expression while you make your rounds trading bracelets. that is until, taylor finally comes on stage.

he's videoing, singing along, and smiling. who is this man and what did he do to rafe cameron? since when did he know the lyrics to tolerate it? why is he wrapping his arms around you and swaying you back in forth during lover? he's entered his swiftie era, and you could not be happier.

#💌#♡ rosie writes ! ୨🎀୧ #fangirl!reader <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #taylor swift #eras tour

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fahye · 3 months

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I absolutely adore your books and have been obsessing over A Power Unbound (how is it possible to be even better than the first two?! How can anything be this good?!) and honestly have not fallen this head-over-heels in love with a book series in years, but it's more than just loving the characters and story, the writing is fantastic-- how do you do it?!

You're a marvellous author so you probably get asked for writing advice all the time, so I'll try to make this a bit more specific: do you have any advice for writers of LGBTQ+ Romantasy?

thank you! & oof, that's still a pretty large area in which to give advice, but I'll go for something quite specific:

find the weird and specific thing that you love the most, and write it as hard as you can. 'romantasy' is a useful marketing term that publishing is currently enamoured with but which will have its season like everything else; don't try to chase trends or fit with what seems to be selling at the moment. by the time you finish it, the market trend might have shifted. don't try to water down your personality, your ideas or your style. you will only survive the drafting, editing and publishing process if you are truly in love with the story you've written and you truly believe in your own voice. and I think the best thing any of us can do is write for the small and specific group of people who have also, unknown to us, been craving exactly the story that we have been craving.

#ask replies #neurodivergent-fangirling #writing advice

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eveningepiphany · 8 months

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welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

———

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

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