Niall Horan fan fic

Niall-- Dancing in the Moonlight

“I’ve got it handled, don’t I Doodle Bug?” Niall said, tickling at his little girl who squealed and ran off, a giant grin on her face.  He turned back to his wife, love and adoration naturally slipping into place as he looked at his best friend.  “Go have your girl’s night, love.  You deserve it.”

And as far as Niall was concerned, she really and truly did. He had been doing promo and then touring for months which left his loving and strong wife to take care of their house and child by herself, all while still working and following her own dreams. She never once complained about all of the weight on her due to the rigors of Niall’s career, but he knew she needed a break and that she wouldn’t take one if he didn’t push her to.

It had been Niall’s suggestion that she take a day to spend with her friends and sisters.  It had been four months since she had done anything just for herself, not with their daughter or Niall in mind, and he was determined she would relax.  He had let her sister and best friend plan out a day full of spa treatments, nail appointments, a few nice meals, a movie, and shopping at her favorite mall, all funded by his credit card.

She was grateful for his thoughtfulness, but she couldn’t help but be uneasy.  “Are you sure you’ve got everything under control?  She’s going through a bit of a phase and you’ve only been home a couple of days…”

“Hey,” Niall whispered, cupping her chin in his hand.  “I love you, but you’re overthinking things.  I’m her dad, remember?  We all win today.  You get to rest, she gets to hang out with her daddy, and I get to spend time with my little princess.  Don’t worry about us, go enjoy yourself.”  Lots of kisses for Niall and their daughter ensued, but he could see how grateful she looked as she slipped into the front seat of her best friend’s car.  It was hard for her to turn off the full time mom part of her brain, even while she was at work, but that made it all the more important for her to get away.

Niall locked the front door and turned around to see his three year old daughter looking at him curiously.  “Daddy, where did Mommy go?” she asked, her thumb slipping into her mouth. 

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Just a movie, babe (S.M. smut)

A/N: Okay i actually got myself aroused while writing oh my gawd! its smutty as fuck. ENJOY!


Shawn’s P.O.V.

I unlock the door and open it, and before I can even get a foot in the door I hear Y/n’s voice yelling.

“Shawn! oh thank god” not a second later i see her running towards the door…towards me terror on her face. I drop my jacket and keys so she can run into my arms. “WHAT! Whats the matter babe!?” I ask, panic in my voice. She wraps her arms around my neck and hold her tighter than i’ve ever held anything in my life. 

“I just watched that movie with that psycho hockey player!” she cried out….her face is still hidden my neck but I let go of her waist. My facial expression instantly changes from anxious to blank. 

“Friday the 13th” I correct her. 

“yeaaah. oh my god i’m so glad you’re home Shawnie i was so scared here alone” she whimpers. “get off of me” I chuckle, backing away from her and picking up the items I dropped a second ago. 

“what? nooo you’re suppose to protect me!” she gasped. “From…Netflix? its just a movie babe” I shake my head and make my way the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “for a second there i thought you were a good boyfriend” she pouts while locking the door and walking into the kitchen after me. I look down at her and she rolls her eyes, taking the water bottle from my hands and drinking a sip. “For a second there i thought you were actually in danger. And would a bad boyfriend let you steal their water?” I smirk before taking the bottle back. I take a sip but almost spill some on myself when pokes me in the side.

“jerk! id like to see you sit through a scary movie without feeling the least bit paranoid” she challenged.

“Let’s watch one tonight then”

“Hell no! i’m already freake-”

“I’m here now so I wont let a hockey player or anyone else get my girl” I know she loves it when I call her that. I see her fighting back the smile it always causes. “okay fine but i swear to god if you try to scare me later on i’m going to strangle you” she squints her eyes to try and intimidate me but all it does is make it even harder for me to take her serious. She so short and doe eyed, its really hard for me to be scared of her. 

45 minutes later

“Shawn you’re supposed to be watching this” she giggled pushing my hand away from her thigh. “Id rather be doing this though” I smirk, moving my hand back to her leg and leaving a wet kiss on her collarbone. She sighs with a smile and crosses her arms. “i shouldn’t let you even sit on the same couch as me considering you told me to get off of you earlier” she teased

“haha y/n” I started “but remember what happened before that?”

“You were holding me?” she guessed, looking over at me.

“Yeah. I thought something was wrong and that-….I don’t know” I ran a hand through my hair, reliving that moment when my heart felt like it was going to explode from how fast it was beating.

What would you have done if there was a real killer in here?” she questioned. 

“I usually say violence isn’t the answer but I guess i’d have to kill him” I laugh. I see her eyes turn a bit darker and she took a deep breath. “….did that turn you on or something?” I joke. She doesn’t verbally answer but she guides my hand back to her thigh, and then further up to one of my favorite places on her body. I start rubbing her thought her pajama shorts and judging by how soft she feels right now, i’m one hundred percent positive she isn’t wearing panties. 

She bites her lip and whimpers while pressing my hand harder into her. With her other hand she pulls her shorts to the side and waits for me to do the rest. I rub for a few more seconds to make sure she’s absolutely dripping for me.

I finally have her where I want her and by now she’s almost at her peak. I take two of my fingers and wet them in my mouth before sliding them inside her. Her mouth is hanging open, a look of disbelief on her face. “sh- shawaann” she gasped. I shake my head “I know I know, that was really dirty” I chuckle, still pumping in and out of her.

 “mmm baby you..you’ve never done that…that was h-hot” she struggled through her moans. “fuck” I grunt before pulling away from her and undoing my belt and zipper quicker than I ever have before. Without me having to tell her, she swung a leg over me and pulled her shorts to the side once again. She pulls my hard-on out of my boxers and runs her thumb over the head of it. 

“aahh baby..fuck ride me” I groan

She sinks down on me, the material of her shorts are out of the way but still add some friction every time she comes back down. Her hands find my hair and I can feel my climax building with every stroke. My hands grip her ass and i help move her up and down. “nnh shawnie right there..” she whimpers. I guide her face to my neck and she begins nibbling at my jaw line. She picks up the pace for a second before pulling me out almost all the way. She’s teasing me

“ don’t you fucking stop y/n” I growl in her ear. She starts to grind again but this time, she starts to lose her rhythm. She’s close, so am I.

“i’m almost there baby oooh fuck…yes” she nods at me and i’m assuming she feels the same. Just when I feel her clench around me, I lose it. I throw my head back and squeeze her ass just enough to make her really feel it.

  I’m moaning out her name along with a list of profanities, she’s riding out her high and when I glance down I can see her biting on her finger. I could cum again just watching her. My breathing evens out and even though we’ve both finished, she’s still slowly grinding on me. She leans forward and kisses me with so much passion, it makes me smile. 

I just love her so much.

I grab her waist to stop her movements because my dick is way too sensitive right now. “another go?” she chirps. “give me like 20 minutes babe”

We laugh and she pulls herself off of me, shifting her attention to the tv to catch the last scene of that damn movie.

Loving with a Little Twist by hrrytomlinson

Summary:

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Niall! I just promised my mother I’m bringing my boyfriend - a boyfriend I don’t have - to Thanksgiving dinner. What should I do? I can’t call back and be like, ‘Oh yeah mom, that boyfriend I said that I have, I don’t actually have. Sorry to disappoint you.’ My life is ruined.” Harry returns to suffocating himself with the pillow.

Niall laughs and Harry growls at his best friend’s unwarranted happiness in this life-ending situation. Harry is fucked. Fuck. He needs a boyfriend. Fuck.

Harry/Louis Thanksgiving themed fake/pretend relationship // word count: 29k

Niall-- She’s the Princess

Niall winced away as his wife let loose a sneeze that could rival an elephant. She glared at him over her tissue, nose red and eyes puffy as she huddled deeper into the warmth of her blanket. “I was kissing you two days ago, Horan. You’re probably already sick and just don’t know it yet.”

“Menace,” he breathed, stretching out his legs. Across the room her favorite Halloween movie played on the screen and a bowl of soup sat on the table by her side.  She really did look miserable, but today was an important day in the life of their four year old daughter. “Did you hear back from Stacy?”

She frowned and glanced guiltily towards the hallway, checking to make sure little ears couldn’t hear. “Yeah, and it’s not good news. Turns out all of her kids have the flu, so she’s not going out at all.”

Niall snorted, but his frown had deepened. “Her little germ factories are probably the ones who gave you the flu.”  His wife shot him a glare and he shrugged, “What?  They probably did.  Is there not anyone else that can take her?”

She shook her head, instantly regretting it when the room started to spin.  “Deb already took her kids to an event at the rec center a few days ago, she doesn’t let them out on a school night.  Tanya’s husband gives me the creeps, so that’s out.  Sarah doesn’t believe in celebrating Halloween…”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Niall sighed.  Every year his wife took their daughter out trick or treating.  This was the first year she really knew what it was and had been getting excited since she started seeing the decorations in the stores.  They had spent the last two weeks getting her prepared for what the expectations and rules were going to be while they were out and about.  She had woken up every morning for a week asking if it was time to put her costume on yet.

Niall didn’t normally go with her.  It wasn’t unheard of for him to be recognized and stopped for pictures and it never seemed fair to put Doodle Bug through that on a day she was meant to be enjoying herself.  But at a time like this, it was either risk being noticed or ruining her day, and he was nothing if not a sucker for his little girl.  

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Frat Boy Pt. 9

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8

IT’S BEEN TOO LONG FRATTY FRIENDS! Literally - Six. Months. Or longer. Here’s the RECAP if you need to catch up on your infuriating frat boy shenanigans in a fun and easy fashion! It’s been a while, and we’re learning about Harry now… be fragile with him. As always, please tell me your thoughts after reading! It takes a moment but when I feel people are involved in this project it motivates me to continue with it. Anyways, I’ve already kept you waiting long enough…Thank you for sticking with us. ENJOY! xx

18 Morning View Drive

Coast Hills, CA

Then, exactly an hour and thirty minutes later:

7 pm.

Those were the only things Harry had texted you. Just the address.

“I don’t even know if I want to go anymore,” you whined, looking at your phone once more before tossing it on the bed. “He clearly hates me and doesn’t want me to go.”

“I thought you told me he said you could though!”

“Only because it sounded like he had to! His sister was practically forcing the words out of him.”

Renny cringed. “Sister…Yeah I’m sorry, I’m still not over it.” You groaned at the reminder and she sighed in response. “Okay listen, just be yourself! Try not to hate him.” You felt your eyebrows rise higher than hairline.

“And this is coming from a girl who loathes him more than her entire being?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just think he’s an entitled asshole, but you clearly don’t otherwise you wouldn’t be going to the dinner. Now, nude pump or suede bootie?” She held up the two shoes she was gracious enough to let you borrow and you bit the inside of your cheek. You did think he was an entitled asshole, but… you were curious. So undeniably curious and how many girls could say they went over to a family dinner at the Styles’ house? Not that that was your primary reason for going but…

“Uh, Y/N?” she prompted.

“Bootie,” you said quickly, snapping yourself out of further self-analysis.  You weren’t sure if you liked the boy, but you were definitely… interested. Renny went to the closet and came back with two dresses.

You shook your head.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re a little…fancy.” You bit your tongue, not allowing ridiculous to form. You shook your head.

“Yeah it’s a family dinner. Jeans will be fine,” you reasoned. You plucked your favorite denim from the drawers and Renny gasped as if you’d smacked her across the face. “And a t-shirt,” you added with a smirk. She gasped louder and clutched her chest.

“No no no no no. No!” She raised her finger to you, stalking to the closet again, the cocktail dresses abandoned to the floor. “If you’re wearing these booties you’re at least wearing a blouse. God, who are you?” She plucked a peachy top and a blazer from the inside of the closet, but you snatched the blazer from her hands and put it back on the hanger, opting for the cream sweater instead.

“I want to be comfortable, not looking like I’m going to a business meeting ya dingas.” She snorted at the term and you pulled her in for a hug, clinging to her for a moment. She always seemed so soft and you weren’t sure if it was the Victoria’s Secret body lotion she used or if she was just blessed with naturally smooth skin.

“Renny?” you mumbled against her chest, arms still securely wrapped around her.

“Yeah?”

Your mind raced with hundreds of questions. What were you doing? Was this absolutely stupid? How do you know if you like someone?

“Your boobs are comfy,” you finally sighed. You knew she couldn’t possibly give you explanations for any single one of those things. She wasn’t exactly a love guru, but she was entirely the best at texting and the art of flirting.

“Thanks. Niall thinks so too.” You squeezed her tighter before it registered what she’d said. “Gross,” you mumbled, letting go with a laugh.  You only let her put the bare minimum makeup on you and she was just finishing up with a coat of mascara when there was a knock on the door. She stopped.

“I thought you said he wasn’t going to pick you up.”

You shook your head. “He isn’t. I’m driving.” Renny paused, listening, as if she’d be able to hear what was going on just beyond the door. The mascara wand was set on the bathroom countertop and she crept to the door. You weren’t under any illusions that he would swing by your place beforehand so you weren’t going to bother wasting precious energy on “what-if”s, though your heart still picked up its pace in expectation. The door creaked open at the last swish of the mascara wand.

“Niall?”

Expectations you didn’t want in the first place fell when you heard her voice raise in pitch. Of course it wasn’t Harry.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by.” His satisfaction at having surprising her was evident in his smug tone and you tip-toed out, not having had a proper one-on-one with Niall since the night of the party.

“You alone?” he whispered to her.

You saw Renny shake her head before you took a step out. A bit of guilt hit you thinking about the spontaneous kiss, but it was so long ago. I mean, you were going to Harry’s house tonight and Niall just came for some one-on-one time with Renny. At this point the kiss just seemed…a bit irrelevant. Renny faced you as if to gesture “see! Not alone” and his blue eyes focused on you as if nothing had changed. But then they did.

“Oh, hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” he shrugged and shifted his weight. Renny was oblivious to the awkward shift.

“Um, I live here?” you crossed your arms, brows furrowing a bit.

He thought it over but for a second before he shook his head, lips quirking up in their innocent schoolboyish charm. “Right. Must be tired or somethin’.”

“Or somethin’” Renny teased. Niall poked her sides and she twisted out of reach, only leaning back again to smack him playfully across the chest.

“Alright love birds, I’m headed out. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye then,” Niall said, arm already sneaking around Renny’s waist. She mouthed an “OMG” to you at his display of affection while you tried not to vom. But when the door closed shut you couldn’t help but think about how natural it seemed for his arm to wrap around her waist.

—–

“OH GEE, THANKS for putting on your BLINKER - not. ASSHOLE!” you shouted, almost wishing your window was down and that the pompous senior citizen wearing ray bans at night could hear you. Since you were a decent and intelligent human being you put on your blinker and switched lanes, trying to follow Siri. Grandpa was driving a Porsche and he cut you off only to go 5 miles per hour. Your 1990 Chevy Cavaleir was driving faster than that and he thinks he can cut you off just because he has a better- you exhaled hard through your nostrils.  No. He wasn’t worth it.  You’d left in plenty of time, 30 minutes early actually, even though it’d only take about 20 to get there.

The only problem was your phone was verifiably ancient and your navigation was the slowest thing known to man. Once you’d gotten off the freeway, you’d made three wrong turns because your navigation was being ditzy and not telling you how close 600 feet was. And now the entitled drivers of Coast Hills decided you’d be okay with them cutting! you! off! Your hands squeezed the steering wheel a little too tight.

The ocean hugged your side on the highway for another five minutes, but each glimpse you tried to steal to it was futile. It was dark, an expansive pitch-black body stretching as far as your eyes- well, couldn’t see. It left you with a chilling feeling as you turned up the winding hills to the mansions waiting at the top. They were nestled all along the drive up, though hidden by hedges and various gates, and at the very tops all you could see were their lights already glistening, making the hills twinkle with light. Perhaps tonight they could see the water better from their perch above, but a part of you doubted it. No matter which way you tried to look at it, darkness somehow refused to be penetrated.

But you bet it looked gorgeous when the sun came up.

In 200 feet, make a right on Coast Hills Drive.

“Shit,” you cursed, quickly getting in the right lane and ignoring the honk of a horn. You didn’t have time to put on your blinker and as soon as you slammed on the accelerator to turn, you were slamming on the brakes. The iron gates were intimidatingly high and the guard that hopped out of his security room didn’t look amused. A mounted sign read “Coast Homes” behind a trickling waterfall that fell against a stone wall and massive palm trees stood beside it. And then there was you.

A knock on your window practically had you jumping out of your skin.

“Are you lost?” the guard asked. It looked as if his mouth was already open to give you directions, hands raising to point you someplace else, but you shook your head.

“No, not lost.” And his mouth closed at your words, hands quickly dropping to his sides and confirming your suspicions.

“Are you here to see someone then?” he prompted.

“Harry. Uh, Harry Styles.” A slight buzz ran through you saying those words. You were here to see him. You were actually invited to the Harry’s house. Oh god, what if you saw his bedroom?

His eyes narrowed a bit at the name.

“I mean, I’m here to see his family?” you suddenly clarified. As if it were necessary. As if he wouldn’t believe that you were here to see him alone. It didn’t make it much more believable though.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

He looked to the back of your car to check the license plate and you felt a twinge of annoyance. “Pull up then.” He used two fingers to beckon you forward before quickly jogging to the security room. You stopped closer to the gate and he scrolled through the computer with a furrowed brow, clucking when he found your name. “You’re here.” But it sounded like “wish you weren’t.” The heavy mechanics of the printer and a dull screech sounded as something printed, and he plucked a sheet of paper from the machine, holding it out to you.

“This is your pass. It’ll last until tomorrow in case you spend the night so don’t worry about tickets or anything like that as long as this is properly displayed on your dash.” He tapped your windshield as if you weren’t aware where your dash was located and you smiled.

“Thank you, it’ll only be for a few hours- tops.”

He nodded and then, as if you were old friends and he was admitting you into a secret club of his, said quietly, “Their visitors don’t usually last too long.” He straightened up instantly, his moment of gossiping weakness vanished with his once-again professional posture. He gave you a nod. “Have a good night!” The gate opened and you called out a quick thank you before entering the most brilliant display of wealth you’d ever seen.

Lawns were perfectly manicured as you passed, some opting for Mediterranean fashions and others expansive Spanish villas with imported tropical plants. Most cars you assumed were inside of the mansions in their garages, but the ones that weren’t inside weren’t any less impressive. “Ferrari, Porsche, oh! Tesla,” you muttered. It was like all the fancy cars you’d ever seen in passing on the highway had the same destination. Here. You stopped counting how many you saw on your hand when you got to 14. And the houses… they were the largest you’d ever seen. They were more like hotels than mere houses.

You’d seen glimpses from below, and recalled the many times you’d stare up at them dreamily on late night cruises to get back home from work, the lights beautifully transforming the hilltops and making you feel like it was an early Christmas. From below you seemed to forget how massive they would be in person.  How they hinted at lives being lived just out of reach. Staring at them up close now, you somehow felt they were even more so.

Make a right on Morning View Drive, then, in 500 feet, your destination is on your right.

You swallowed hard despite yourself as you turned right, suddenly thinking that Renny’s idea of a dress wasn’t that ridiculous of an outfit. But it was too late now, especially when you drove down a street just as manicured as the rest, but somehow seemed wider. The streets alone…They were about twice- no, three times the size of your own in width. And the houses were separated far from each other, far enough that one property easily took up the space of four large houses. You tried to zero in on the numbers along the houses – only to realize they were hidden. By gates. More gates? What were they hiding in there, the Crown jewels?

Your destination is on your right.

Your body jolted forward as your twitchy legs hit the brakes too hard and your car started drifting forward again as your foot relaxed.

Another jolt to stop before you ran into the mailbox.

You couldn’t see a number, but you didn’t think you had too. Forget the other houses - this was the largest home you’d ever seen, fitting for how well known the Styles family was. It was a Spanish Mediterranean style mansion with golden lanterns adorning windows and balconies…and this was just what you could see from what was rising above the iron gate surrounding the property. It sat prominently in the middle of the street, both intimidating and more striking than any of its neighbors, and the largest too – your gaze ran all the way down the gate; it took up the rest of the street until the end of the hill where it’d drop off into a deep valley and eventually run straight into the ocean. You’d seen that view from the highway a thousand times, but it was different to be on the other side of it now. You knew the Styles were rich, but you didn’t think they owned an entire coastal hilltop.  

You awkwardly repositioned the car and drove up to the callbox, but paused, looking to your purse hesitantly. Should you just call Harry on his cell? You rolled your eyes and leant out to press the little call button and the buzz that instantly droned in the air made your hand recoil in a snap and left your mouth suddenly very dry. This was real. This was happening.

Awesome.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself you shouldn’t peel out of his driveway and drive straight back home to Renny and your ducky pajama shorts.

The droning stopped, and a long high-pitched beeeeeep sounded, which triggered the gates. There was muffling on the other end of the line as the iron gates started peeling back, and you could’ve sworn you heard a voice say, “Is that her?” Your hands were mildly shaking as they reached to put the car back in drive, from fear? Excitement? Admittedly, a bit of both.

You drove up the cobblestone drive through a yard lush with tropical plants that had to have been imported, but your gaze was quickly stolen by the resort-like property you’d be entering at any moment. Columns stood tall and the encased chandelier emitted a warm glow where the intricate glass doorway stood. The click of your booties walking along the cobblestone seemed loud as you walked to the front and tentatively raised a hand to the door. You knocked softly for fear the intricate glass would break, though it did seem expensive and thick enough…

You looked back to the only car in the driveway – yours. Their cars were probably hidden and well-kept from the elements in one of the three garages you’d parked in front of. The dent you’d received from last year’s fender-bender was still obvious even in this dim lighting. The crickets seemed peaceful tonight.

“Welcome!”

You turned sharply at the high-pitched voice to see Gemma. She held a full champagne flute in her hand, and leant a bit on the dark wood rim of the door, looking every bit as beautiful as you’d remembered – more so, now that you saw the cocktail dress she was wearing.

“Hi!” you mirrored her enthusiasm.  She ushered you in, not noticing it was a mere mask for how totally unprepared you felt. “Was I, uh, was this like a formal occasion?” you whispered, eyes darting down the long hall. The blank stare she gave you made your anxiety about being the most awkward human bean rise to new levels.

“What, formal?” Gemma looked baffled for a moment. “Oh! No, not at all. All my other clothes are dirty and I’ve been refusing for Sven or Eli to do them.” She took in your lost eyes. “The house maids- or, housemen? Not sure which,” she clarified. Her eyes quickly darted over your cardigan and jeans. “You look wonderful by the way. Dinner’s only just begun, I promise.” You smiled warmly at her, suddenly becoming aware of the chatter and silverware scraping the plates. A grand piano sat in the entrance, and there was a surprising amount of marble for the Spanish exterior of the house. Chandeliers lined the tall ceilings all the way down and some orchestra music you weren’t sophisticated enough to name filled the air.

She started walking down the hall, and you trailed behind her, your heart rate accelerating from the anticipation of seeing Harry in his home. It sounds weird, but you’d never been able to picture him at a proper house, with a family, with a childhood really… just the fraternity.

“Y/N is here!” She called out just as she turned the corner. Seven pairs of eyes locked on you and you instantly tugged on your sleeves. Especially when you only recognized two. Harry sat beside the head of the table, his eyes locked on the plate of food, and a surprise. Sorority Viv was beside him. You wanted to scowl, but you tugged the sleeves of your sweater down instead.

“Hi,” you put up a hand and braced a smile.

“Well we didn’t think you were coming,” a woman said. Her blonde bob looked strangely familiar and Harry’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke. Even from here you saw them harden.

“Oh..uh,” you looked down at your watch. 6:55. “I’m sorry, I thought dinner started at 7.”

“You’re fine dear,” the man at the head of the table assured. Mr. Styles you assumed. He had kind features and softened wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled like now. He was like a George Clooney and, even though he had gray hair, he was tan and somehow it was fashionable. But something was off.

“It was meant to be 6,” she noted, and her pearl necklace jostled as she leant over and placed her empty glass of champagne on the table and beckoned you to the seat in front of Harry. “Well come in! Please,” her voice sounded sincere but the thin smile radiated about as much warmth as a frozen potato. Gemma squeezed your shoulder as she passed and sat at the next empty one a few chairs down. You pulled yours out next to a fair-skinned boy with light dull brown hair and he offered his hand. It was like porcelain, so it was a little unnerving when you grasped it and found he was actually warm.   

“Charlie,” he said, and you realized he was the boy you saw kissing Gemma.

“Y/N,” you smiled. You looked across to Viv and did the same, and she returned it, if a little unwilling. She looked to Harry again, who’d busied himself more with food.

“Hey,” you said, but it was into the void, his eyes elsewhere probably looking at the thousand dollars worth of décor – your embarrassment was swallowing you up until Viv nudged him. He looked up, eyes distant, and they locked on your own for only a second.

“Hi.”

It was mortifying.

“So-” Charlie cleared his throat- “You guys are mates then I reckon?”

“We’re not sure what they are,” Gemma piped in.

“What do you mean?” Viv asked, looking to Harry.

“Yes, what do you mean?” Mrs. Styles suddenly halted the conversation at the other head of the table with the couple beside her. Harry’s face morphed into a scowl.                               

“Gemma,” he warned.

“Mary, please,” Mr. Styles sighed.

“Harry,” Gemma and Mary spoke at the same time.

“So!” Charlie let out a nervous laugh. “The chicken’s really good isn’t it?” He forked another bite into his mouth and you were envious you couldn’t do the same. Just like that, a gloved hand reached down and gingerly set down a china plate with the juiciest piece of chicken and capers you think you’d ever get the privilege of eating.

“Thank you,” you looked back to the kitchen help before he could disappear, black and white uniform and all. “You have a lovely home Mr. Styles. And Mrs. Styles.”

“Oh honey my mother-in-law is Mrs. Styles. I’m Mary, and he is Lionel.” Her voice was bubbly like the champagne she twirled around, but so was her friendly tone – full of air.

“Oh, okay.” You busied yourself with picking up the silverware before stealing a glance to Harry. His demeanor was different than usual, eyes glued to his food, cheek sucked in as he lightly gnawed on it. He was still, but .. sad? No.

…despondent?

“Did practice tire you out?”

His eyelashes fluttered at the sound of your voice and he looked up, lips pursing just the slightest. It was a miracle he hadn’t ignored you.

“No…”- a brief lift of his shoulders, a shake of the head, then- “No,” he repeated, forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“Yeah, you have been awfully quiet-OW,” Charlie began coughing and Gemma threw him a glare.

“Harry’s never quiet.”

“And how would you know that?” Harry suddenly snapped to life and the room dropped by ten degrees. She raised the napkin neatly to her mouth before slowly tucking it below her.

She took a deep composed breath.

“Oh please Harry,” her oddly placed laugh made you tug your sweater tighter to your body. “I’ve lived with you long enough don’t you think?”

“Long enough? Yeah I completely agree.” A sarcastic half grin spread across his face and something tugged within you that made you want to kiss it away. You heard yourself thinking and it made you sick. Kiss? KISS??!

You stuffed another bite in your mouth.

“So Y/N what’s the story here?”

You look up, cheeks full. Mr. Styles – Lionel, laughed a bit at the sight and his laugh didn’t make you want to cringe into your sweater like his wife’s. “Sorry darling, I’ll let you finish.”

You swallowed a little too fast.

“What are you studying here? How do you know Harry?”

“I’m majoring in Biology, but we’re in English class together.”

“Biology! I’ll drink to that,” Lionel lit up and raised his flute.

“Lionel’s the best doctor in Southern California.” Mary crossed her heart, and Lionel shook his head lightly.

“She exaggerates.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at his comment, but he continued, “If you ever need an internship or if you want to come visit one day…feel free.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out an extremely thick, extremely white business card as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “So… just class?” He gestured between you and Harry once more.

“Well, he’s also quite a good soccer player so I’m pretty sure the whole school knows him.”

“I wouldn’t say the whole school,” Harry started, but his eyes were fixed on Lionel and the way he broke into an easy smile.

“So we’ve heard. We’ve seen him play once or twice, haven’t we?” He looked to Mary who nodded. She soundlessly raised the napkin to her mouth again but she didn’t speak. “Yeah, he’s quite good.”

“Really good,” Viv crooned.

“Could you pass the water please?” Gemma asked.

“What?” Mary arched a thin brow.

“The water,” Gemma repeated.

“Water,” Lioinel mimicked the accent and broke into a smile. “You can’t ever leave Gemma, it’s decided. I’d miss your voice too much.”

Something snapped in you. He lifted the heavy vase of water effortlessly and passed it on to her, oblivious of the gears turning in your head. The accent.

Mr. Styles didn’t have one.

And neither did Mary?

“You don’t have accents?” It was out before you could stop it and the table fell silent. It was one of those awful moments when everyone’s brows were squished and slow side glances were given. And a nauseating feeling spread through you when you realized you might have said a very wrong thing. Viv nervously looked to Harry.

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

Harry cleared his throat. “I mean, technically we all have accents.”

“He’s right,” Gemma said, pointing her fork.

“But you’re…are you British?”

“I am!” Charlie said.

“Yes you idiot,” Gemma nudged him, and Lionel laughed a bit before shaking his head.

“No darling, we’re from here. Born and bred beach bums.” He threw up the shaka sign in true dad-fashion but Mary tipped her champagne flute back.

Harry snorted.

“Never say that again.”

“Why am I embarrassing you?”

Harry didn’t bat an eye.

“Oh come on…Charlie smiled.” Lionel innocently looked over for support, but Charlie’s gaze was locked deep on his chicken by then.  

“You’re lying,” Harry shrugged. “You never go to the beach. Can’t be a host that lies to its guest can we?” Harry turned to you and you froze. “You don’t like liars do you? Cause I don’t.”

“What has gotten into you?” Lionel’s voice was breathless, incredulous.

The table fell silent and the two looked at each other from opposite ends of the table. Lionel set his glass down and a tint of disbelief reflected in his eyes.

“I’ve never seen you there it’s just funny to hear you say it,” Harry continued calmly.

“What’re you talking about I took you sailing all the time.”

“I’ve seen pictures!” Viv said, “Oh you were so cute in your little outfits, don’t you remember?” But her voice sounded overenthusiastic, keen to change the subject.

“Sure and how old was I again Vivvy?”

His retort was instant, the question harmless enough, but it was the way he said it that made Viv’s face instantly fall. For a moment, you even felt bad for her she seemed so genuinely hurt. Mary rubbed her mouth with the napkin so hard you weren’t sure if the red on her lips was blood or makeup. Do you speak? Make a mad dash for the door? Sorry, I didn’t sign up to be on an episode of the Housewives - gotta blast! Then you could throw the thumbs up sign to Harry on your way.

No. You couldn’t. You didn’t even dare to breathe right now.

Gemma watched wordlessly, just as much at a loss as you. More so, it seemed, for her mouth open and closed multiple times, but each time it was a hopeless attempt. Lionel rose his brows, took a deep breath, and leaned back. He looked tired.

Harry’s eyes had barely flitted over to yours before retreating again and in that brief moment you looked at him, it’s as if he realized what he’d said. His cheeks flushed, but his jaw was locked.

Okayy, someone woke up on the wrong side of his small fraternity bed this morning. But you’re welcome to come back and live with us. Have your nice king sized bed again…” It sounded like a nice offer but if you listened hard enough you could’ve sworn you detected something sharp.

“Oh funny joke Lionel,” Mary laughed humorlessly, slowly turning to you. “Harry’s always been independent.”

I wanted Gemma to reach out, to whisper a concerned Harry as a warning, because right now his eyes were dark, brewing a storm of blood rain from invisible scars he’d cut open himself. How deep did they run?

“Yes, funny, funny, that’s what we are,” Lionel said, but there was no smile on his face, he was rubbing the corners of his mouth with the napkin and setting it down on his clean plate. “Sorry about this.”

As if Harry wasn’t in the room. As if you didn’t feel as though you were in the most awkward position you could’ve been placed in, plopped in the middle of a tug of war you didn’t really remember signing up for. Were you supposed to be on a side?  

“Dinners aren’t usually like this, I don’t know why he’s-”

“I don’t know why we’re having this dinner. Are you done?” Harry asked Viv. Her plate was still full of vegetables and at least half the chicken.

“Actually-”

“Great! Are you done?” He turned to you in all his over-animation, and in his dark green eyes you felt a sudden sympathy. It wasn’t right what he was doing, but he could only be acting out for a reason. Or multiple.

Or perhaps he was a just a selfish petulant boy.

Whatever the reason there was a wild plead in his gaze and you didn’t want to disappoint.

But you were also very much aware of Lionel waiting for your answer.

“If everyone’s done, then I’m done too.” And in fact, your appetite had disappeared.

Gemma seemed close to tears, but she blinked them away and tossed her napkin. “Yes, I’m actually quite tired.”

Charlie halted his fork mid bite and with one look from Gemma he reluctantly put it down.

“Stuffed full actually,” he mumbled.

“Great, well, I’ll grab dessert.”

Mary rose with her napkin but the scrape of Harry’s chair against the wood floors made her do a sharp turn.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer as he headed to the marble staircase, footsteps loud as he jogged up them.

“Let him go,” Lionel sighed, and with it, he shrunk smaller in his chair.

“Harry!” she screeched. But he didn’t answer and with a turn at the top of the stairwell he was gone.

Everyone dispersed after that. Lionel received a conveniently-timed phone call to which he had to dismiss himself into one of the many rooms. Mary headed immediately into the kitchen but she never came back -

And then there were four.

“I’m-” Gemma bit her cheek, folded her hands. “Nevermind.”

“I think I should get back.”

Gemma looked at you understandingly, a sad sort of reluctant smile gracing her face. “Perhaps that’d be best. It was really nice meeting you though, and as much as Harry doesn’t seem to get on with loads of people, he mentioned you multiple times. I thought-” Her eyes got misty again and they glazed over the multiple paintings hanging over the dining table. “Nevermind what I thought,” she looked down to her feet but for a moment before that, her warm eyes had smiled at yours. You didn’t know her, not at all, yet somehow you could tell the warmth behind them was genuine. And you liked her instantly.

“Alright, I’ll just – I’ll head out then. Thank you so much for the dinner, it really was delicious.”

“Thanks for coming,” Charlie offered, swinging his arm around Gemma.

“Guess I’ll see you at school.” Viv appeared beside them and the unexpected head of jealousy showed its face again. Well, not its whole face. Just the tip of its nose as it peered behind the pillars of your heart, because would you really want to spend more time in there?

You were shocked when that tiny part of you said yes.

You were only halfway to your car when you heard Viv shout out.

“Wait!” You obeyed, feet halting as her fast jogging in heels made record time. She let out a breath. “Back there, what you said about the accents, it’s not like it’s a big secret, but um.” Her eyebrows slightly knitted together. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, I guess just so you don’t make it a big deal.”

“Yeah. Wait- why, did I make it a big deal? I really didn’t mean to.”

She shook her head, then stopped. Her head leaned slightly to the side and her eyes pinched as she pondered your questioned. “Maybe a little.”

She put her arm around you and steered you to your car.

“Harry’s adopted, it’s not bad that I’m telling you this because they don’t try and keep it hidden or anything it’s just – they don’t advertise it. And most people don’t ask. They just assume long-term boarding school or something. They don’t look into it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Adopted. Of freaking course.

“It was when he was young, seven or something. Uh-” She stopped, perhaps she’d said a bit too much. “But anyway it’s not that big of a deal.” But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She looked to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Totally fine. I mean I’m sure his other friends know anyways.”

She smiled then, and stuck you at arms length. “See you later.”

After revving the engine, and drawing up to the gate, you sat there for what must have been a solid twenty seconds, throwing the engine in reverse and then approaching it again. It didn’t move. Shouldn’t this thing be automatic from the inside? You threw it in park and trudged to the front door again, but no one was moving inside the house. You tried knocking. Everyone was gone. Fantastic.

A miracle, one of the garage doors started to open and you walked closer.

“Oh good, I was about to be stuck!” you called out as the doors clicked back, expecting Gemma to return your smile from the other side. But it was dark and no one was there. You did see the shadow of three other cars though. Three very nice racecar material cars.

“Hello?” You called out. You swallowed harshly when you saw two brown booties.

“What’s going on?”

You felt like you should be the one asking him that, but you just shrugged your shoulders. “The gate won’t open.”

Harry stood expressionless before retreating to the back of the garage.

“Wait- where are you-”

The sound of the gate opening shut you up. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t really know what else to say, and Harry wasn’t exactly making conversation, so you were silent as the clank of your door closed you in again. Back to reality. This night had been a disaster.

The spluttering of your engine lasted longer than usual and you stilled.

Come on grandpa!!!!

You twisted the key again but it was refusing to give you the satisfying thrum when it finally gave. You were so close!! It couldn’t give out now!!!! It could literally break down, say, in a total hypothetical situation that did NOT happen, when I’m trying to avoid human contact after being pantsed in front of hottie toddie physics professor but it CAN’T give out now.

You tried again but it failed.

And you tried again.

And again.

And again.

Harry’s figure approached the car window with a beer in hand and he took a deep swig of it before knocking on the window. You barely heard it above the spluttering but you gave grandpa a moment of silence.

You rested your head on the steering wheel before bouncing up again and rolling down the window.

“What Harry,” you sighed.  

“She’s dead.”

“I know.”

You got out and waited, crossing your arms while Harry ran into the garage to check if he had any jumper cables or whatever else he’d need to fix this. At least it wasn’t smoking.

“We don’t have any.” He sauntered over, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the car. “Can stay here if you want.”

“I can call an Uber.” You hit your phone’s lock switch but it was a black screen. DAMN you Renny for hogging the charger before you’d left. DAMN YOU. “Can’t. Can’t call an Uber. Could you call one for me?”

“Are you trying to use me for my money?”

“I- no.” Your mouth parted but it closed again. Was he for real? Was he….kidding? “I can pay you back you know.”

“Lionel won’t hear of it. He doesn’t trust Uber.”

“Doesn’t trust Uber. What is he? A binge-watcher of late night crime shows?”

“No.” An almost smile shone through and you crossed your arms.

“Well I can’t just block the gate.”

“No one’s going anywhere for tonight.” He headed for the garage again. “Come on,” he called back.

“Renny will be worried about me!”

“You can call from our landline.”

People still had those?

“Sh they can hear you these walls aren’t 12 inches thick!!” you whisper-yelled into the receiver. You gave Harry an awkward smile and twirled the cord around the vintage phone. “Mary picked it up at a Parisian market or something. It’s mainly for decoration but they got it hooked up just in case,” he’d said, only walking to the end of the hall to give you some “privacy.”

It was literally from the 1920s. You felt like a vaudevillian actress about to break into song about how she wants to live a normal life but mommy and daddy keep her locked in a tower.

“I DON’T CARE IF THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HEARS ME YOU ARE BETRAYING YOURSELF IF YOU SPEND THE NIGHT THERE.”

“Renny- ! Oh my- ! Could you just- could you just LISTEN?”

“Let me call you an Uber.”

“Lionel already knows and they’re-” you looked over at Harry who seemed to be distracted by a painting he’s probably seen a thousand times before and you lowered your voice- “Apparently one of the maids is already making my bed.”

“ARE YOU ROYALTY NOW?! Are they going to give you complimentary chocolates in the morning?! Are you going to be giving him complimentary HEAD-?!!!”

“RENNY!”

Harry’s head whipped towards yours, but his lips were still set in his pout. You grimaced, putting your back to him and facing the end of the hallway.

“Now you have me thinking about the wizard’s wand. I literally hate you,” you grumbled.

“You know I’m joking. Well, half-joking. You can stay there if you want it’s just-” she sighed- “What is this, are you guys like dating now? Because the last I heard you were literally running away from him and wanting to punch his face in.”

“He does give off that effect. And no! We’re not-” your voice lowered more- “We’re not dating. My car’s just broken down.

“You keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m not lying to anybody.”

“Keep telling yourself that kid. Because the last time I was with you was when you were literally RUNNING away from him. But you’re going to spend the night at his house. Voluntarily. I mean geeze you’re giving the poor guy a headache you can at least suck his dick.”

She’d hung up before the words even processed.

—-

“This is the living wing, I dunno why they call it that it just makes it sounds depressing.”

“What do they mean by living?” you asked. Each word sounded heavy on your tongue, each sentence carefully constructed. It was weird to be talking with him when he clearly wasn’t in the best frame of mind. When you didn’t know if he’d snap and turn sour all of a sudden.

Though you didn’t think that’d happen. He seemed more sullen to you now more than anything, apologetic maybe, if a word like that could describe him. Think: a toddler after being scolded for something he’s done wrong. Eh? That image seemed to work.

“It’s where my dad keeps his…creatures. Birds, fish, I don’t know I never fucking go in. It’s also where their bedrooms are.” He poked his head around the hallway before muttering, “I guess.”  

“Oh okay.”

Your feet stopped following him when you met a tall window. Their backyard was….spectacular. It was dark and the twinkle lights only exposed so much, but there was a very nice long pool, tile patio with sunbathing chairs, and more green beyond it. The all black on the horizon you assumed to be the ocean.

You didn’t realize Harry was behind you until he muttered, “What’re you thinking about?”

“You know I could ask you the same question. Like at least half the time I’m around you.”

His brows squeezed together a bit but a bit of a smirk was starting to form. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Oh you do. You definitely do,” you started to laugh and back into the window to scrutinize him from afar. Because right now he had a very odd look in his eye. “You’re quiet most of the time,” you said softer. After dinner, you weren’t quite sure what was going on in Harry’s family life. But the longer the adopted word kept being tossed around in your brain and analyzed every which way, you wondered how many different dynamics existed that added or subtracted to their relationship. Take Gemma. How did she fit in? She had the accent too.

So, if you could make him smile by backing up and eyeing him like he was some sort of specimen than so be it. As much as you would’ve killed to see him unhappy a couple days ago, you’d realized you’d been a bit rash to run into conclusions. And yes, you had managed to make yourself look like an utter mentally unstable ass and a half. So you could cut him some slack. The night hadn’t been a nightmare for just one of you.

“Stop it,” he warned. But you started to circle him and you squinted one eye, putting two hands up to frame Harry’s face and the window with the warmly-lit grounds like a director choosing the shot. “Okay seriously. Stop.”

“Nope,” you popped the p, “It’s funny. I couldn’t picture you in a place like this before, but now I can.” You slowly put your hands down and you thought you heard him mumble weird.

“Oi. Did you just call me weird?” your mouth opened in playful surprise. His nose scrunched up at your over exaggerations. He was confused, you could tell. And he was probably being just as cautious as you were, you realized. You didn’t blame him. But he was so close to smiling. Soooo clooosseee-

“S’just weird,” he settled with. And his would-be smile dropped. A little bit of guilt struck you.

“What is?” you began slowly.

“It’s weird that you’re here.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ouch.

“Why?”  

“Because I can’t picture you here.”

His voice seemed shy. He nodded towards the other end of the hall. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.” And he didn’t give you much time to catch up, nor time to feel offended, as his long legs were once again a disadvantage to you.

You weren’t sure how many bedrooms you’d been passing, and to be completely honest, Harry’s explanations of what each room was went a bit beyond you.

“Theatre’s to your right, sun room’s to the left. That’s the library over in there, elevator’s around the bend. Annnnd… here it is.”

He forgot to mention the multiple living rooms you’d been passing which had killer ocean views, or the full-on mini bars. Yes. Bars. As in numerous. You didn’t see much alcohol in them though and you wondered if it had anything to do with Harry.

“I’ll be at the other end then.”

“Of the house?”

“The hall, just there.” He pointed, and looked back at you with a funny look about him. “No sneaking into my bedroom.”

You coughed. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? A poor one but…Are you making jokes now?”

His smile faltered, but it was finally there. No matter how small or pained it looked. His eyes looked to his boots for a second before settling on your elbow, then your shoulder. Then your chin. Or was it-

“Right. Well. I’ll give you something to wear, just- stay there. Or don’t. I don’t care.” Harry turned quickly and disappeared into the last room at the hall. Your eyes grazed the hallway walls. He may not look necessarily enthused that you were there, but in this whole situation you’d felt like an outsider. And you suspected that was exactly what he needed.

Not that you held any pretenses to know what that confusing boy needed.

Not at all.

Or rather, none at all.

None were there to gather dust, to give you a glimpse into what he looked like as a toddler through to the awkward teen years. No family portraits hung. Each wall’s empty space was filled with a landscape painting of the sea, or the cliffs facing the water. Except for the power portrait of the Styles in the center of the home that looked out over their grounds - it was stark of any traces of family existence. The messy bits anyway. And instantly you compared it to your old stained carpets and walls with so many nails in it if you removed all the pictures and unscrewed the nails, you’d be left with hardly a house at all. This felt like someone had come in, staged it for a potential buyer, and that was it. Like if you opened the dresser’s drawer you wouldn’t find anything in it except for another nail or the assembly instruction manual.

You hummed to yourself, peering into your bedroom. A nice queen-sized bed and bamboo flooring. White canopy drapes covering what you assumed to be a window.  The only thing that seemed off was the ceiling. It had stars painted on it. You walked to the center of the room and looked up- there was a name there, inscribed in the center of the biggest star. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs before wandering over to the ensuite bathroom. It was no less impressive.

A big part of you was wishing to be with Renny right now. Gosh you would’ve paid anything to see her face if she could only see the outside of this house. You never fared well when there was quiet, a lot of it anyway. And in a house this big, it was quiet. A little too quiet. And cold. Was the AC set to 50 or something?

Warm water ran down your face and you briskly turned the faucet off. At least Renny would be able to say “I told you so” tomorrow. Well, not about the blowjob thing. You opened the medicine cabinet to find some toothpaste, or face soap. The last thing you needed was another zit to pop through.

But there wasn’t anything of the sort. No no no.

Pills filled the cabinets. Some with labels, some without. You closed the cabinet. Definitely not toothpaste. Definitely not your business. But who were they-

“Oh my gosh!” your heart flew to your chest.

Mary was sitting on the edge of your bed, silent, hands folded in her lap. Had she seen you? The sudden adrenaline found an escape in an awkward laugh. “You scared me.”

“Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” She tucked a strand behind her ear and it wasn’t until your hip hit the door frame on the way out of the bathroom that you realized she hadn’t been looking at you this entire time. She would’ve judged you for that blunder. No, her eyes were fixed on the walls, then the ceiling.

Did she need help with something? Were you in the wrong room?

“Is this my room?”

“It’s my youngest’s room.” She looked up again, and her left hand seemed to be a little shaky as she soothed already straight hair behind her ear. You watched her closer and saw her body sway a bit to steady herself when her head lowered. You instinctually looked to the door, to an exit. Harry should be down there. Nerves suddenly held your body like they always do in a situation that’s unfamiliar, in the face of unpredictability.

“She liked astronomy!” She said suddenly, as if she’d just had an epiphany. She walked over to the canopy drapes and peered between them, revealing a balcony as she looked out. “I thought she’d like it. She likes the stars.”

“I bet they’re, uh-” your eyes shot out again- “Beautiful from here.”

She was quiet and she slowly turned to you, pointing to the ceiling. “There. Did you- didyouseeit? There.” She stumbled closer, still in heels, and you crossed your arms tightly, nodding even though you had no idea. You followed her hand briefly. It was the scribble on the wall.

“I picked it,” she said, finger sliding to fall at her heart. “I picked it.”  

“Jesus! Mary.” Harry stormed in, a horrified look on his face as he clutched clothes in his hands. They fell to the floor.

“And Joseph,” you muttered.

Harry’s eyes held no humor in them in the brief moment he glanced to you. It was hardly enough time to properly glare. But glare he did. And there was enough fiery gusto in them to realize that now was not the time.

“Jane,” she corrected. “Jane.”

Harry was struck still, and you watched as his eyes frantically observed. But when she was about to sit down again he spoke,

“What’re you doing in here? Y/N is going to try and sleep.”

Mary looked at him, her drunken emotional journey to the past turning sour. Her lips pressed in a hard line and she stood up, swaying a bit when she did so, but the level of composure she emanated was impressive.  She went over to him, passing you silently, and for an irrational second you thought she was going to jump you. Instead, she grabbed Harry’s arm when she was almost out the door. “There were two rooms Harry.” She tried to whisper it, but the alcohol had warped her perception and you heard everything.

She let her hand fall and Harry’s fist clenched as it did.

You were struck dumb, again. This wasn’t your domain, you weren’t close enough to comfort him if that was what he needed and you weren’t brave enough to interject if he needed a good slap in the face. You barely knew him. And the realization of that sunk deeper than you’d ever realized. You can get frustrated because of him, infuriated at him even, but you couldn’t be one to judge. Not when he seemed more miserable here than anywhere else.

“Stay here,” he finally said. And then he was gone, leaving you with a pile of clothes that couldn’t explain the half of it.

You stripped quietly once the door was closed, pulling the oversized plaid button up down that fell to completely cover your hands. It still left you cold, barely covering your bum, but your heart warmed a little at how he didn’t just give you a black t-shirt. You almost stepped over the sweatpants that were there before greedily snatching them up with a smile In your fanciful mind you imagined he knew you’d be cold in here.

Harry never came back. You couldn’t text Renny, or anyone, and you couldn’t be bothered with figuring out how to turn on the tv or to find a channel. So you lay there, looking at the ceiling. You didn’t belong in this room. Mary, even if she hadn’t necessarily said get out, still verifiably creeped you out enough so that you didn’t want to be in this room. You never knew Harry had another sibling. Not that you’d even known about Gemma until yesterday. How many other people knew him, truly? Why were you here now? What would you do if you opened your eyes and Mary was just sitting at the end of your bed again - watching you sleep?  It made your head dizzy and you closed your eyes. If she was there at least you wouldn’t be able to see her. But the scribble in the sky was still burned in your mind’s eye and it had your imagination roaring. You rolled over on your side, pulling up the thin sheet to cover your ear. The wind smacked a palm tree leaf against the balcony window and you jolted in place. You felt haunted, and it wasn’t like the sheet would protect you from anything except for soothing the little toddler in you who still believed that good always won, evil always lost.

This was an expensive home.

With probably more security than the local bank.

You were safe.

But you didn’t feel secure.

Your anxious thoughts continued like pins pricking your stomach until fatigue made it stop. You didn’t know the time when you fell asleep.

And you didn’t know the time when you awoke. The smacking of the palm trees was as bad as ever , and your nightmare had been worse tonight. The same sick one. A house in the countryside, peeling wallpaper that threatened to wrap itself over your hands if you leant against it a little too long, trapping you there when you needed to run from faceless creatures.

You were being watched.

You jolted-to in a cold sweat.

Was it 2 am? 3? You hoped it was closer to 6, to the sunrise. These days you cherished the times when you’d wake up at 4. You tried closing your eyes again, but the sweat soon chilled you enough to where the sheet wasn’t enough. You silently stood, walking over to the cabinets on the far side of the wall. The painted shutter doors squeaked when you opened them. It must’ve not been opened for a while because the paint caused the two doors to stick together and it only gave on the third tug.

What you saw stilled your heart. Because you didn’t find linens or a big fluffy blanket, and if you’d discovered this just a few hours later in the morning you’d probably glance right over it, perhaps it would’ve sparked a moment of confusion maybe. But now, in a big strange house in the middle of the night you surely felt a chill. And then you were booking it out to the hall.

His door was there. Just like any other door. But you paced around it a few times. He was probably sleeping. Should you just go to the downstairs? Just…I don’t know… grab a glass of water? Try putting on the tv? Like a normal person would? You raised your hand, but it fell just as fast. Gosh who were you?!

You couldn’t yell at Harry for being bipolar when you were basically the perfect spokesmodel. You knew why you were standing outside his door. You knew who’d make you feel secure. This was embarrassing.

But the door opened before you had to knock.

“You can come in,” he murmured.

“Oh,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Oh you don’t have to-”

But when he opened the door wider you didn’t waste a second in entering.  

part 10

and a Long Island Iced Tea | Harry Styles One Shot


So this might be a little different to how the anon had in mind but this premise can get a bit samey sometimes so I tried to do something a little different. I dunno. Hope you like it, I x


You hadn’t slept in nearly three days. You’d managed to eat a couple of slices of toast but the unrelenting nausea made it hard to swallow. You sipped at water but by this point that was the only thing you were living off. Anxiety made your body shake constantly, even when you were busy pinning garments and making alterations your hands shook making the work that came so easily to you, so difficult. The only thing in your mind was how you could make it right, how you could fix the mistake you’d made. You knew you couldn’t, you knew you couldn’t because you’d always feared it being the other way round and when you thought about it and your gut tied itself in knots and you felt sick, you knew it wouldn’t have been able to be fixed. But it was you who had done what you never thought you could.

Three days had passed since the phone call, and now you were waiting in what had become your shared living room, your own flat virtually unlived in on the other side of town, waiting for him to appear. His flight was due in early that morning and as you sipped on black coffee, a bad decision considering you already had the shakes and your mind was working on overdrive, and watched the sunrise you were wondering if he felt as sick as you did.

‘Please tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.’ Harry’s voice was monotonous, emotionless as it came down the line. He didn’t even say Hello, let you know how he was. You knew what he was talking about but you were hoping he wouldn’t know yet. You were going to tell him, you wanted to tell him before he found out from someone or somewhere else but you were too late.

‘I’m so sorry Ha-’

‘Fuck Y/N.’ He shouted and you gasped. You shouldn’t have been taken back, he was angry, of course he was angry, he had every right to be but he never shouted at you. You’d seen him get angry at others, seen him shout at others, but frustration with you was always harnessed into something calmer. ‘After everything you put me through about coming out here, you’re the one who actually does it.’ His voice was quieter but you could still hear the anger in it. You’d argued about him going out to LA again. He never seemed to be home much these days, you knew he was busy and it was an important time for his career but you missed him, you were lonely and every time he went to LA something happened, something kicked off and you were the one left at home without a clue what was really going on trying to hold the pieces together.

You’d told him you couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t sit in London fighting of paparazzi questions and tweets from fans and gossip mongrels whilst he sat back in LA and let it blow over. You knew that wasn’t what he did, if something happened he would call you and comfort you tell you he’d sort it, and he did but that didn’t stop the questions. ‘Have you spoken to Harry?’ ‘He’s cheating on you can’t you see it.’ ‘She’s an idiot to think she could keep him away from the models out there.’ How could you ignore it? He’d promised he’d be working the whole time he was there and he’d be back as soon as it was all sorted, there’d be no time for partying or socialising and it seemed there hadn’t been, but that wasn’t the case for you.

You’d been invited out for a night out with some friends and you decided to go. You’d been working to the death the last few weeks on your collection and you deserved to let your hair down. Apart from anything else it would take your mind of Harry for a while. And it did just that. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you let the young lad, that looked like a brit-pop throwback, who had been dancing too close all night, press his lips onto yours. You pushed him away as soon as you realised what was going on but not before someone in the club had snapped a picture. Within hours it was doing the rounds on social media before you even knew about it, by the time you knew it was too late to do any kind of damage control.

‘Harry please listen to me.’ You were crying now. You were scared of what what you could lose, you couldn’t be without him but it would be your own fault if he decided he couldn’t be with you now and you weren’t sure how to process that. He was silent, that was the only cue you needed. ‘I was lonely, I was missing you, I was st-’

‘You were missing me?’ He laughed in disbelief and you sobbed. ‘Missing me so much, were you missing me while you were kissing him?’ You stayed silent just sobbing. ‘Answer me.’ He screamed.

‘Harry please don’t shout at me.’ You begged, your voice faltering as tears flooded down your face.

‘Stop crying, you have no right to cry, you fucked up I’m the one that should be crying.’ He told you angrily, spitting his words down the phone to you. You knew he was right but you were shaking with the fear of losing him and you couldn’t help but cry. You breathed trying to hold it back. If it would make him tolerate your voice until you could explain, or try to explain, you’d hold the sobs back until you couldn’t breathe.

‘It just happened, he kissed me, I pushed him away and that was it.’ You told him quickly in one breath before you hiccuped. You wish you could see him, you wished he could see you. If he could see how much you hated yourself, how angry you were at yourself, how much you loved him maybe he’d realise.

‘Did you kiss him back?’ He asked quietly. In honesty you couldn’t remember, if it wasn’t for the photos you might not have even remembered the kiss had happened. You wished you could forget but now it was all you could think about. ‘You did didn’t you.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’ He laughed and you could hear his voice sticking to his mouth. His voice wetter, you knew he was crying now. Maybe he could cope if some random guy had come onto you, he’d seen you dancing on nights out, he knew how attractive you were, and yeah a guy might come onto you. Not when he was there because he wouldn’t leave your side when he was there but on your own, catching you unaware maybe he could get over that. But the thought of you pushing your lips, his lips, into a stranger was too much to bare.

‘Harry I’m sorry, I love-’

‘Don’t.’ He told you and sobbed loudly. ‘I don’t want to speak to you right now I can’t deal with it, I’ll see you when I’m back.’

‘I love you Harry.’ He didn’t reply and the phone line went dead before you could finish. Now you were about to see him. You’d thought about staying in his grey, random donut shop hoodie that you’d been wearing for the last three days but you didn’t know how he’d react so you opted for your hoodie and some jeans. Your uniform for working days. You could really do without this today. You needed to be in the studio, in only five days your first collection would be on the catwalk at London fashion week. You needed to be doing alterations, getting measurements, making sure everything was sorted but the two page long to do list on your desk hadn’t even crept into your mind yet. All you could think about was Harry, all you could think about was how all you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms the way he normally did when he got back from a trip but you knew that wouldn’t happen.

You heard his key in the door and you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. You didn’t move, you didn’t wander out to find him. Tears were already stinging your eyes as you heard him pulling his bags through the door and the door close heavily. It was seconds, but it felt like minutes until he was stood in the living room door looking at you. He looked as tired and weak as you did. The bags under his eyes were heavier and darker than you’d ever known them, and despite having been in LA for two weeks his skin looked pale and matte. The tears that had been stinging your eyes fell down you cheeks at the sight of him and he just shook his head.

‘Say something.’ You begged him, not moving as he took his first few steps into the room but not coming near you.

‘I don’t know what to say Y/N.’ He told you. He was staring straight at you but it felt like it was more straight through you. He didn’t know who you were anymore.

‘Will you let me explain.’ He shrugged and you swallowed hard on nothing, your coffee long since finished. ‘I was drunk, that’s not an excuse but I was, I can’t remember hardly any of the night-’

‘These sound like excuses Y/N.’ He told you looking cocky. That look would either normally turn you on or annoy you but right now it just made you feel even more guilty.

‘They’re not,’ You told him trying to assure him you weren’t excusing you inexcusable behaviour. ‘He’d been moving in on me and Jen all night and we pushed him away but finally I’d had enough and I let him dance with us, he obviously took it the wrong way-’

‘You seem to remember a lot of the night you can hardly remember any off.’ He interrupted again and you sighed. You couldn’t get annoyed at him for taking stabs at you or for interrupting you when you were trying to explain. And apart from anything else he was right.

‘He obviously took it the wrong way and he kissed me.’ You finished, Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

‘And you kissed him back.’ He said it like he knew, like he’d seen it himself. You shook your head. ‘That’s what the papers and Twitter is saying.’

‘So you’re going to believe them over me?’ You asked he shrugged, he didn’t seem to care. Perhaps he was over it by now. ‘Harry you know what those people are like, you know the shit they come out with, I’m your girlfriend-’

‘No you’re not.’ Your heart broke in that instant. You were shocked into silence, your voice gone and your heart rate tripling. You wanted to fight back, to question it but you thought you might be sick if you opened your mouth. Harry moved closer to you, you could feel his breath as he pulled your face up to look at him. ‘I trusted my girlfriend with everything, I loved her with everything I am, I’d have gone to the ends of the earth for her, she’d have done the same for me.’ Your tears were falling fast and hard, blurring your vision so you could hardly make him out. ‘I don’t know who you are.’ He spat before dropping your face and walking away from you toward the stairs.

‘I’m going for a shower, I want you out by the time I’m done.’ You went to chase him, protest, he was already half way up the stairs by the time you got to the bottom and called his name. ‘I said I want you out Y/N, I don’t want you here right now.’

You sat at the bar on the other side of town from where you’d been three hours ago, waiting. Three hours ago you’d just finished your first show at London fashion week. For most it probably got lost amongst all the other, bigger, well attended shows, but for you it was the biggest deal, made bigger by Harry’s presence. He’d promised he’d be there, of course he’d promised before you’d betrayed his trust, you should have known he wouldn’t break that promise. Harry Styles was many things but he never went back on his word. You should have known that. He sat in the front row with other mutual friends of yours looking better in a shirt from your collection than the model who was wearing it. It certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, but it also hadn’t gone unnoticed by the journalists and paparazzi outside either. He’d told them he didn’t want to talk about your relationship but they couldn’t help themselves.

‘That’s one of Y/N’s pieces you’re wearing, isn’t that comment enough?’ One of them asked, Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes. You knew the sort of questions they would ask in the current climate, he knew too, you didn’t know why he stopped. You wished he hadn’t, you didn’t want to hear his potential answers, you didn’t want to hear the questions that were on everyone’s lips, yours included. But there were for you to ask, no one else.

‘Look, she’s a good designer I’m here to see the show, shall we leave it at that?’ Harry said before walking away. You saw the video on Twitter, there were the usual nasty comments alongside it and you’d been tagged in some of them but you ignored them all, just watched the video and closed the app. You were there to do your job, you were good at your job, you focused on that.

You caught his eye as you walked down the catwalk at the end of the show to a wildly loud applause. He was smiling,standing with your friends to applaud you and he even gave you a wink. You wished he hadn’t, it confused you even more than it comforted you. Once you returned back up the catwalk he was holding his phone up in front of his face and you felt a little less comforted. He didn’t care as much as he once would have done. It was that, that ensured you didn’t feel good about the meeting he’d proposed, the text coming through to your phone as you were taking garments from models.

Can we meet at the bar later?

It was vague but you knew where he meant.

Sure, I’ll be a couple of hours here so 7ish ok?

See you then

Those few hours passed too slowly. You were confident of what he was going to say, which way it was going to go. He wasn’t going to forgive you, he couldn’t. How could he trust you? If he couldn’t trust you what kind of relationship did you have? You knew it, you could feel it in your stomach but you just wanted to hear it. You wanted to see him, see if anything could be salvaged even if it was just the shadow of a friendship. The wink he’d given you, the proud smile on his face as you walked down the catwalk after your models, made you think that maybe.

It was all whirling around your head in a mess of thoughts as you sat at the bar, Long Island iced tea in hand. You moved it around on the bar, spinning it in your fingers occasionally taking a sip as you mulled your situation over and tried to put yourself in Harry’s shoes. You couldn’t though. He’d never done anything like this to you and you knew he never would. Your drink was half finished when Harry arrived. His hand on your back made you aware of your presence. You smiled weakly as he sat on the stood next to you leaning it to kiss your cheek politely, always polite. The bar man wandered over before anything other than ‘Hi, how are you?’ Could be said.

‘Can I just get,’ He hesitated thinking about it. ‘Ah screw it can I get a daiquiri and another Long Island Iced Tea.’ He didn’t even have to ask, he knew what you’d be drinking in here. Best Long Island Iced Tea in town he’d told you the first time he met you in this bar. He had no idea what he was talking about, and it certainly wasn’t the best Long Island Iced Tea you’d had in London but you couldn’t order anything else. ‘How was your afternoon?’ He asked turning to you, it seemed like a normal conversation wa going to ensure but you knew, not only because it was obvious, but because of the way he was playing with his lips that he was just waiting for his drink to arrive so you’d be undisturbed until he broached the subject.

‘Not bad ta you?’ You asked taking a sip of his drink, he nodded and shrugged. He was wearing exactly the same clothes as he had been earlier. Black jeans, of course, your white silk shirt, black leather boots and the black woolen trench style coat you’d bought him. ‘Where’s everyone else?’ You asked, you knew.

‘Gone for drinks you know that.’ You did know that, that was the plan for after the show. You were all going to go for celebratory drinks before a night on the town but things had changed and Harry was more important.

‘This is more important.’ You told him and he agreed with a nod as the barman bought your drinks over. Harry thanked him and took a sip of the pale yellow cocktail.

‘Collection looked great by the way Y/N.’ He told you with a smile and you thanked him nervously. ‘Got my eyes on a few things.’ He told you cheekily and you chuckled lightly through your straw as you slurped the last mouthful of your cocktail.

‘Well you get friends and family discount, and that’s not a bribe.’ You joked but regretted it instantly. ‘Sorry that was inappropriate.’ You looked down at the bar pulling the second drink closer and pushing the finished one away.

‘Don’t be silly it’s fine.’ He smiled placing his hand on your thigh. You sighed and tried to ignore the contact, you didn’t know what it meant and you were scared to ask. You’d missed it though, his hands on your, his arms around you, his lips. The small touch was enough for now, it was more than you expected and you’d take what you could get.

‘I’m so sorry Harry, I wish-’ You began but he interrupted you and took your hand, turning you in your stool so you faced him.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He told you and you looked at him confused and slightly panicked. If he wouldn’t even hear you out you stood no chance. You thought he’d wanted to meet so you could talk but perhaps he’d already made his mind up, perhaps it was already over for him and there was no going back. ‘It was all a bit much at first and I didn’t handle it very well.’ You went to interrupt him, tell him he handled it better than you probably would have, that his reaction was more than understandable. ‘You were right, I should have trusted you over what everyone was saying and I do really it just took me a while to realise.’ You nodded taking it in. ‘I don’t want you to explain it, I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want you to apologise, I just want to forget it and move on.’ You thought you were going to cry from overwhelming happiness this was going in the complete opposite direction to that you’d thought and prepared for.

‘Harry.’ You gushed. ‘Are you sure, I mean I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.’ You told him and he laughed.

‘Y/N you’re being ridiculous.’ He told you, your brow furrowed instinctively not quite believing what you were hearing. ‘A drunk guy in a club kissed you, you pushed him away, I mean I’m not happy about it but I’m not going to lose you over it.’ You laughed in disbelief and joy. ‘Let’s just be glad I wasn’t there or you might have been about to become a regular visitor at the local prison.’ You laughed again but this time with humour, everything felt right now and your hand in his didn’t feel like an intrusion. ‘I love you, let’s not something like this happen again.’ You nodded and leaned in to kiss him, savouring every second of his lips on yours. ‘I was thinking, you need to talk to your landlord about your flat.’ You nodded in agreement as conversation flowed in a way it might have done when he’d first arrived back from LA five days earlier, it was like the last week was erased and you couldn’t have been more grateful. ‘Also I’ve got a friend in LA who wants to look at your collection.’ Your eyes went wide and Harry laughed at your reaction.

‘Are you serious?’ London was one thing but the states was another. Harry nodded at you still chuckling.

‘She couldn’t get enough of this shirt and when I told you it was your design she asked if there was more.’ You laughed. You knew Harry Styles walking around in clothes you’d designed could only be a good thing but you’d never imaged it could be that good.

‘Oh my god Harry, thank you.’ You practically leaped off the chair and into his arms. ‘Thank you.’ You said quietly, comforted by his body so close to yours again his arms wrapped around you.

‘You don’t have to thank me, I’ve got nothing to do with you abundance of talent.’ He told you to which you giggled as you pulled back from him a little pressing another, single kiss against his lips. ‘Shall we go find the others?’ You nodded Harry downing the last of his drink before standing from his stool and taking your hand leading you out the door.

The next morning you wake up, naked in Harry’s bed. The smell of his sheets engulfing you. Harry’s side of the bed is empty but the sound of the coffee machine whirring downstairs and the smell of sweet, blueberry pancakes tells you he’s downstairs sorting the normal Saturday breakfast. You pull the heavy duvet in closer for a few seconds, enjoying his sheets alone for a little longer while you check your phone. You pull the charger out of it and the screen illuminates with notifications. Texts of congratulations, a couple of emails and a retweets but one twitter mention that catches your eye.

‘@Harry_Styles mentioned you in a Tweet!’

You unlock your phone slightly confused. It takes a few minutes to load but when it does you could cry. A photo of you walking back up the catwalk the previous day after your show. You’d worn a navy pant suit but lost the jacket earlier in the morning in the mess so you had the tailored trousers on, a black high neck top, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows and your everyday silver bracelets and rings glittering. Your hair was tied in a loose bun at the nape of your neck and the bright red lipstick you’d decided on to make you look a little more alive stood out. You had a smile on your face, a smile of relief but also a smile of dread as you saw Harry, phone in hand ceasing to smile and clap you. Now it made sense.

‘My gorgeous girlfriend doing me proud as she does everyday with you to the end. H x’ You felt the tears stinging in your eyes. It looked like it was directed to you, it was your twitter handle in the tweet but you knew it was a message to the world and everyone who continued to feel the need to ask questions and talk about your relationship like they had a clue about it. You took a deep breath and liked the tweet so he knew you’d seen it before swinging your legs out of the bed and searching for the donut hoodie that you couldn’t wait to put back on.

On My Own - Part 2 - Niall

A/N: Part 2 is here. But I have a feeling it might need a part 3 now… Let me know!

Niall awoke the next morning feeling pretty rough. He couldn’t remember getting home, but was grateful to find himself in his own bed. He lay in bed for a while, completely still, hoping to lessen the pounding in his head. Eventually, though, he realised the only thing to do was get up, take some tablets and drink as much water as he could manage. 

When he reached his kitchen, he was equally surprised and confused to see you there.

Hi,” he muttered.

Morning,” you replied, a cup of coffee in hand. “Do you want one?

Nah, just water.

You got him a glass while he hunted out some painkillers. Passing him a drink you asked, “Do you remember anything from last night?

Well, I have no idea why you’re in my kitchen,” he said, taking a large gulp from his glass. “But I’m grateful. I do vaguely remember seeing you at the bar.”

I’m not surprised,” you told him.

How did I get here?

In a taxi, I came with you, didn’t seem like a good idea to leave you in that state.

But why did you stay?

You hesitated then. You’d stayed because of everything he’d said at the bar, the way he’d told you you couldn’t leave him in the taxi.

What?” Niall asked, sensing your hesitation. “Did I ask you to?

Not exactly. You told me not to leave you in the taxi.

Sorry,” he bowed his head pinching the bridge of his nose. “You could have left me.

No, I couldn’t.

I’ve been drunk before, I would have been fine,” he assured you.

It wasn’t that you were drunk, it… It doesn’t matter,” you concluded, tipping away the rest of your coffee and getting ready to leave.

Y/N, it matters to me,” he said, grabbing your hand to stop you leaving. “I’m sorry I can’t remember whatever I said but just tell me.

You got weird, honest levels of drunk and told me that you wrote On My Own to convince yourself it was true,” you told him, not making eye contact. “Between you telling me about all of that and the stuff behind the album, and the way you told me to stay in the taxi,  I couldn’t just leave.

So, don’t leave now.

Niall-- Loss For Words

“Sounds like utter shit to me.”

My eyes narrowed at him from my end of the couch, my legs stretched out in between us as he rubbed at my feet.  “Watch your language, Horan,” I warned.  “We agreed that we both needed to stop swearing now before the baby was born so we wouldn’t have to adjust once she’s already talking and repeating everything we say.”

Niall rolled his eyes.  “Wouldn’t want her swearing straight out of the womb, would we?”  His tone was sarcastic.

I shifted, my hand rubbing over my swollen belly.  I was 24 weeks pregnant with our first baby, we had just found out she was a girl a few weeks ago, after several weeks of keeping her legs crossed so we couldn’t see.  “That’s not what I said, and you know it, Niall.  I just said that you should start talking to her; tell her stories or talk about your day.”

There was a short snort from the other end of the couch.  “You don’t actually think she can hear me through all of that?” he asked, nodded at my stomach.

My lips thinned as I just looked at him.  “Thanks, sweetie.  You know how to make a girl feel great about herself.”

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes.  “You know what I mean, pet.  She’s inside of you, she can’t hear much of anything even if her ears are working.”

“You do remember I have a degree in child development psychology, right?” I questioned and he grunted; his typical response this pregnancy when I reminded him I had become familiar with this process and how children developed from conception a long time before we even considered having a child.  “I promise you, she can hear us talking right now.  If not exactly at this moment, she will very, very soon.”

“Yeah, and how did you know that?”

“There have been studies done that show that babies can not only hear what is going on outside the womb, even if it is muted, but they also recognize the voices of the people they hear the most often,” I explained patiently.

Niall had just grunted and gone back to his TV show and that was the end of that until a few days later while we were making dinner.  Out of nowhere, he turned to me and asked, “These studies… How do they know the baby can hear ya?”

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Y/N is a single parent living in London. With an awkward co-parenting situation, a job and an eighteen month old, baby boy to juggle life could be easier. When she bumps into an old friend on the way to a job one in evening, maybe she’ll get just the helping hand she needs, or maybe more.

Standalone/ One Shots/ Blurbs/ Drabbles

Speeding Ticket
Niall One Shot |

Personal Assistant
Harry Styles One Shot | 8.2k | Y/N is Jeff’s PA but one of his clients takes a little more notice than most in her

Bright Red
Harry Styles One Shot | 2.1k | Y/N surprises Harry for his 23rd Birthday

My Girl
Harry Styles One Shot | 5.9k | Y/N and Harry are best friends but maybe they’re meant to do this.

Pizza and Ice Cream
Niall Horan | One Shot | 623 | Y/N has a rough day at work and Niall makes it better

and a Long Island Iced Tea
Harry Styles | One Shot | 4k | Can Harry forgive Y/N when she does thing she never thought she could do?

Blogmas 2016

Niall-- Late at Night

It always surprises me, the moments that make my heart so full it could explode.

The moments where everything I have in life just seem so overwhelming in their normality that it fills me with warmth.  I can remember a time when I thought my life with Niall would bar me from these sorts of moments, but even in our privileged life I can find those moments where things just feel… normal.

I can’t sleep.  Insomnia has taken me hostage once more and not even the soft sheets pressed against my skin can will me restless mind to sleep.  I knew if I rolled over and poked at my husband, he’d be awake in a moment.  He’d only grumble a little that I’d ruined his dream of a perfect round of golf before keeping me company in the dark hours.  Cuddling with me and talking about silly nonsense or just sitting awake next to me as we both did our own things on our phones or read books.

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Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy and gloriaandrews

Summary: AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who “has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don’t hum Bolero.

This is for you Cassi! Love you! @organiclubestyles