harry dirty one shot

Dating Draco Malfoy Would Include...

Originally posted by excusemefangirlhere

- meeting in third period charms and bonding over how stupid some of the other students were

- a lot of kisses on the forehead with a arm around your waist at all times

- forcing you to take his jacket

- im not kidding

- you two could be walking out of the library at 11 pm after studying for the potions exam the next morning and he’d come up behind you and just wrap his robes around your body

- ‘draco i already have my own’

- ‘oh shush i know your cold y/n’

- being a perfect gentleman around you

- but when he mouths off to potter and his friends you put him in his place

- not being a really big fan of how rude he is to the younger students

- SILENT TREATMENT

- yule ball was almost to most cutest thing in the world

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

His First. (A Dirty Harry Styles One Shot)

- In which Harry is a bit.. inexperienced in the bedroom.

Harry thought he could hide it. He thought he could get away with it. But, when everything came to him so all of a sudden, he realized that he was trapped, and the only way to get out, was by telling the truth. 

And so he did.

“What?” you ask breathlessly, your hands at the mid of Harry’s patterned shirt, fingers frozen on the buttons, pulling the colorful fabric away from his tall and lanky form.

“I-I’m.. yeh are my first.”


Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

Mine

Originally posted by worldstyles

REQUEST: Jealous Harry smut

HARRY’S TEXTS // (Y/N)’S TEXTS

Keep reading

Harry Styles Masterlist

[ smut = * ]

ONE SHOTS

In which Harry and you have been away from each other for way too long and him looking way too good before his show

“If you love something set it free. If it comes back It’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be.”

Harry invites you over to his place and you both make out for the first time

In which Harry wakes up from feeling sick and y/n feels like she can’t do anything to make him feel better

Where Harry goes away for a couple days and y/n gets back into her old ways

Niall wants to prove to you that he is more fun than you think… and you might just give in.

You are away in Paris and Harry just misses you too much and wants you back home

Shouldn’t date a man who holds your paycheck right in his hand

Harry is lonely and meets a girl at a pet shop

Harry works at lush and you are a writer


PROMPTS

A Warm Welcome [h.s.]

A/N: here’s some hades!harry! Sorry if it’s shitty I’m trying to get back in the game! And sorry for any typos and mistakes! Enjoy :-)

___________________________

Being a god comes with a large bundle of heightened emotions and Harry honestly wishes that they had an off switch. Celestial beings are called “celestial” for a reason, after all. They’re abnormally better than any human, and thus they must keep an attitude and air that enforces nothing less, but damn feelings for being able to get in the way so easily.

Gods must be calm and collected under the most extraneous situations, they must rule with an iron fist, and most importantly, they must forbid emotions from deterring them in any way. He’s not saying that he hates feeling emotions more intensely; some are worth the toil. Pleasure, for example, is felt tenfold what any human could handle and he can almost say that this alone makes the troubles worth it. But it’s moments such as now that bring forward overpowering feelings that he wishes he could cast aside: a dangerous mixture of excitement and anxiousness.

More specifically, the excitement and anxiousness that comes with the return of his beloved wife, Persephone (or as he calls her, Y/N), from being away for her given six months of the year.

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

Late, Yet So Sweet. (A Smutty Harry Styles Blurb)

- a quick 30 minute blurb where Harry eats Y/N out at 1 am, hope you enjoy it. xx

The Sun set behind the horizon a few hours ago, but the sky is still baby blue, and the last rays of light are creeping through the blinds, brightening up the dark living room.

Heavy breaths and pants, quiet whimpers and deep moans linger in the open space, as well as the faint sound of the television, which still has on the stupid reality-tv shows, that got left in the left behind a while ago, when Harry nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, started kissing the supple skin, and put his hand down your sweatpants, pressing your clit with his thumb, whimpering:

“Let m’ taste yeh, please. Miss yeh on my tongue.”

With your back slouched against the corner of the sofa, you take a hold of the back of Harry’s head, which is settled right between your thighs, his body rested on his knees on the hardwood floor.

You moan softly, when Harry wraps his lips around your swollen clit, and suckles the sensitive nubbin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Your toes curl up against the sofa cushions, and your legs tremble slightly when Harry flicks his tongue quickly over your clit, making him smile up to you. Even with his cheeks hollowed, his deep dimples still manage to make an appearance.

Harry can feel his cock twitching in his black Calvin Klein boxers, when you tug at his curls, pushing his mouth closer to your dripping wet core. A low groan escapes his lips, vibrating against you.

Harry’s hands travel up your front, his cold rings dragging against your hot skin, to your breasts and cup them under the thin fabric of your t-shirt, that is crinkled over at the hem, showing off a bit of your skin and your belly button.

The filthy sounds of Harry slurping on you and humming, loving the sweet taste of you, makes you shudder and your eyes flutter shut, and your lips fall into an o-shape.

“So fuckin’ sweet, angel.” his words get muffled by your wet cunt, and make your hips shift, grinding yourself gently against his mouth. 

His other hand starts slowly sliding down on your skin, and settles on your lower tummy, that place he finds perfect to have midday naps on. You place your own hand over his, holding tightly to his tattooed wrist.

“Oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, when you feel the burning sensation in your tummy add up, making you complete mess. You’re panting with shaky legs, your knuckles turning white from gripping too hard, whether to the pillows and blankets, or Harry’s short curls.

You cry out, when Harry pulls himself away from you. With eyes half-lidded and your chest rising up and down in a rapid speed, you look down at him, watching in awe as his eyes sparkle when he locks them with yours, his raspberry lips glistening from your juices, as well as his slightly scruffy chin and jaw. 

“What, why-why did you stop?” you pant out, your hand gripping onto the pillow next to you, but Harry just chuckles at your question. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he answers, now a smirk curved on his lips.

“Let m’ feel yeh cum aroun’ my cock, how does that sound, love?”

Masterlist Updated

Smut:

Mean Fuck (Frat Niall Smut)

Dirty Dare (Michael Clifford Smut)

Drunken State (Luke Hemmings Smut)

Wake Up Call (Niall Horan Smut)

Daddy Kink (Ashton Irwin Smut)

Home (Larry Smut)

White Secret (Calum Smut)

Mini Skirt (NIall Daddy Kink Smut)

Unusual First Night (Niall Smut)

Succumbing To The Prick (Niall Smut)

Preference And Imagines:

He Hears You Sing (5SOS 4/4 Imagine)

Backstage Quickie (1D 4/4 Preference)

Cuddles (Larry Stylinson Imagine)

CEO!Michael Short Imagine

Calum Hood Blurb!

Midnight Snack (5SOS 4/4 Imagine)

How He Kisses You (5SOS 4/4 Imagine)

Bad Internet Connection Makes Him Thinks You Didn’t Care (Lashton 2/4 Imagine)

How You Met Calum

How You Met Michael

How You Met Luke

How You Met Ashton

Morning Preference (5SOS 4/4 Imagine)

Snowy Day (5SOS 4/4 Preference)

He Walks In On You Changing (Cashton)

You Guys Dine With His Family (5SOS Preference 4/4)

He Founds Out You’re Extremely Ticklish (5SOS Preference 4/4)

Cute Tweet Wars (Cashton)

Football Girl (Niall Imagine)

Jealous - Nick Jonas (Luke Imagine)

Disney World (Father Ashton Imagine)

Happier (any of them sad imagine)

Fanfiction:

Hot Cocoa, Marhsmallow and Harry Styles (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Say that again; H.S.

“So how did your date turn out the other night?” Harry appears into my side view, still buttoning up his crisp, ironed-by-me chemise as he walks to stop beside me. I turn on my heel, bumping my hip into the marble countertop as I let a humourless chuckle flow past my lips.

“Disastrous. Catastrophic. I-never-ran-so-fast-in-my-life-short.” I laugh loudly, handing Harry the utensils for his dinner in a few hours. I pull on his shirt near his shoulder to straighten it before I lightly push at Harry’s chest to get him up and going – there wasn’t much time left.

“Couldn’t be that bad,” Harry starts off but pauses ever-so-subtle, “or can it?” he disappears from my view – hopefully to his large dinner table in his living room – elevating his voice so we could continue our conversation.

“Believe me. It really can be. Not that you ever experienced a hell like that.” Again, a chuckle passes my lips while I shake my head. A friend of Harry’s had set me up on this date and the male in question wasn’t that horrible, but our mind sets were so different I don’t think that could have ever worked out. I cut the date short after a comment that resembled ‘all women belong in the kitchen’ and sent the lad on his way.

“As if girls throwing them at my feet is something that’s so thrilling. Can’t even have a proper conversation like that. They only have one thing on their mind.” Harry appears back into my view to grab a few napkins on the edge of the table, already turning on his heel again.

“Not to start anything – but uh – you sound like a woman. All men are the same kinda shit? But reversed.” I stop my motions as an amused grin crawls onto my features, dropping the dessert spoons back on the marble and discarding them all together.

“I’m offended. You’re implying that I whine. I don’t whine, I complain that I can’t get laid.” Harry’s voice is still humorous as he ducks beside me to grab the dessert spoons off of the table, bumping his hip with mine to get me out of the way. “I still need glasses.”

“Harry come on, if you wanted loose sex, you’d have it in an instant.” I ignore his comment about the glasses but turn for the cabinet either way. Harry wasn’t someone you could just approach like you’d do while out clubbing, but that didn’t mean the boy couldn’t get lucky from time to time.

“I couldn’t even fix myself a proper date? Let alone find myself a one night stand. They don’t see me like that.” Harry mopes somewhere on the premises of his loft, but nowhere in my line of sight. I visibly roll my eyes – although he obviously can’t see that – all the while a scoff leaves my lips.

“Ah come on, Styles. You’re fuckable. Don’t complain.” I discard his nonsense almost directly. Sometimes I wonder if Harry realized how attractive he even was. He could come off as strong and confident but he was just as insecure as the rest of us – maybe even more than the rest of us.

“What did you just say?” Harry’s voice lowered, his movements stilling as his whole body turned in my direction. “I – never mind.” I mumble, feeling a blush creep onto my features from Harry’s intense stare. The confidence I had once possessed around had completely drained because of his whole aura, the demanding stare accompanied by that lopsided smirk of his.

“Say it again,” Harry demanded quietly, already making his way back up to me, a smile beginning to grow on his lips.

“You’re – well. Desirable. You damn well know that H.” I groan, not quite sure why he suddenly desired a confirmation of his good looks – let alone from me. I’m not sure how long it takes for any sound to pass between us. Harry had always been someone for a dramatic pause now and then.

“I didn’t know you thought about me that way, Y/n.” Harry’s smirk continues to grow as he discards the cutlery completely, slowly trailing towards his open kitchen, where I’m still gathering other utensils needed for Harry’s family dinner.

“I didn’t say I did. I was stating a well-known fact.” I awkwardly throw back at him, trying to maintain a grin of my own as I feel the ground underneath my feet heating rapidly.

“You sure?” He toys with me, his eyes twinkling underneath the dim lighting of his kitchen. He twirls around me, collecting the glasses I had gotten out of the cabinet one by one.

“Yeah…” I trail off, wondering to myself if I was indeed sure of my words. I keep my gaze trained on the expensive crystal instead of my best mate fluttering around me as if this wasn’t a conversation we weren’t supposed to have.

“Too bad.” I still in my movements, one of my hands curled around the stem of a wine glass as I balance my whole weight on my tippy toes. I try to speed-rake my mind about what intentions could have been behind those two simple, plain words, but come up rather empty-handed. Well, I was never someone who could rapidly come up with solutions anyway.

“Too – what? Why?” I come out of my trance, landing back onto my feet as I turn around, glass dangling in my hand which Harry happily plucks from between my fingers.

“I’d – I wouldn’t mind.” He winks and within a split second my cheeks are a fire-blazing red and my eyes are as wide as they can possibly get without popping.  

I’m taking one step forward, towards Harry, but refrain from moving any further. I’m not sure if I’m reading his words as I’m supposed to, and I’m not ready to give into my urges if they are misplaced. Harry is a bit more confident than I am and closes the gap between us in just a matter of a few split seconds.

I’m pressed against the counter, my hands covering over Harry’s biceps as his own hands cup my face, keeping me in place. A little noise – what it was supposed to sound as, even I am not completely certain – leaves my lips and causes Harry to push himself even impossibly closer.

His hands wander, his lips staying locked with mine as my own mind seems to click. My hands rest on his firm biceps first, a few moments later letting them flow over his exposed arm towards his toned chest. I’m letting my fingers ghost up on his chest towards his neck when Harry’s hands cup my bum firmly, drawing a moan from my already parted lips.

“How much time do we still have?” Harry breathes against the skin of my neck. He technically forces me to open my eyes, which are immediately cast towards the clock on the far kitchen wall. “If we’re lucky, about forty-five minutes.”

“That’s all I need.” Harry chuckles as his arms snake around my body, hoisting me up into his arms. I just hope we’re not getting an unexpected visit.

Birthday boy

A one shot with a surprise birthday party and a sub Harry

WARNING: SMUT

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okay but I feel like Harry would definitely send you nudes n shit while you’re in class

Like, you’d be listening to your professor lecture and your phone would vibrate and you’d take a quick glance and just about scream– it’d come out as a tiny garbled squawk.

And it’d be a thread of pics of him, starting from a selfie where he’s slumped into the couch in his donut hoodie with his messy nest of hair bc he didn’t feel like brushing it this morning so he just ran his fingers through it a couple of times and then called it a Grammy-worthy hairstyle. His face is neutral as he’s staring at the TV, the hood of the jumper hanging over his right shoulder and he just looks cozy and lazy. And then the second pic would be a pic of him looking down at some unknown thing off camera, but by the angle of the pic you deduce it’s his lap. And then the pic after that would be of him with his hand tucked into his black Nike running shorts, the outline of his knuckles showing that he’s cupping himself underneath. This picture would be followed by the caption, “im hard :(”

And you’d roll your eyes, typing back a quick “handle it” and locking your phone, setting it back on top of your textbook and continuing taking notes. It’d vibrate again, but you’d ignore it bc you don’t want to miss anything important. Then it buzzes again, and again, and again, and it keeps going at faster intervals and you know he’s aware that you’re ignoring him. You snatch it back up with a small, exasperated sigh, flicking through the 19 messages he’s shot at you. “help me!” “It hurts!!” “Don’t be so cruel :(” “baby I need you to cocks me through this!” “Get it? ‘Cocks’? Sounds like coax :D"

Then a pic of him all pouty with his big emerald eyes all doe-like. “just a quick one, c'mon. Just tell me what you’d do to me if you were here :)”

“I’d tell you that you sound like a fuckboy.”

“You answered so it worked”

“Because it was annoying. Now leave me alone I have work to do!”

And then a pic would come through of his bare hard-on, tucked out of his shorts and in his large hand with his fingers wrapped around it, pearls of pre-come shiny on the tip. “But I’m so hard for you :((”

You’d yelp, lowering your brightness to the lowest setting and tapping out an angry reply: “I’m. In. Public. You. Dipshit.”

“Scandalous ;))”

“do you want to get blocked again?”

“Tell me you wanna suck me off :)”

“if you use one more smiley face…”

“what, these? :)))) :-)))”

“Har, please. I have to go”

And before you shut off your phone a vid pops up and you see his face as the thumbnail, so you click it, glancing up quickly to make sure no one is watching and putting one earbud in.

“I’m really hard– s'like, it hurts a lot. And you’re not here and I just want you wrapped around me.” He frowns like a child, knuckling at his eyes and you can tell he woke up recently, even if it is one in the afternoon. “So ’m just gonna…hold on…this new phone’s a slippery one, innit? I’ve dropped it more times than I can count…”

The camera flips and, sure enough, there he is, all shades of red and purple, thick and veiny and bubbling over with jizz as he strokes himself at a medium pace, twisting every now and then to give the handjob some variety. “I just want you so bad, minx. Wanna push myself inside you while you’re all hot, wet, soft and tight…fucking hell, you’re so tight…”

You’d shift a bit, legs clamping out of instinct. He’s such a dick for doing this. You glance up and there’s 5 minutes left of class. You can make it.

He flips the camera back over to his face, where he’s leaning his head back against the sofa and biting his lips raw, tiny feathery moans oozing from them as his breathing gets heavier, his shoulders visibly jolting. “Oh, fuck me, doll. Make me come so hard, so much…Wanna taste you– just shove my face in between your pretty little legs and lick into you until you’re shaking.”

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking and the veins in his neck chisel themselves into existence, his Adam’s Apple bobbing slowly as he swallows thickly. Sweat is beading his forehead, a few teeny curls sticking to his skin. You can see the hint of stubble that curtains the lower half of his jaw and trails onto the underside of his face and it only worsens the ordeal because you can just about feel it now, rubbing against your thighs as he’s in nose deep or scratching down the back of your shoulders as he takes you from behind. The little shit is staring directly into the camera and smirking, for fuck’s sake, licking the corner of his mouth and humming out a long groan. “Nice and hard for you, babygirl. Want you to fuck my brains out…”

The video ends there with Harry’s back arching off the couch, cutting off as he gives a watery yelp. You sit there, blinking tears of desperation from your eyes and trying to force the blush from your cheeks.

“When i get home, you’re fucked.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way ;)”

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 2

A/N: This is a filler chapter. Meaning, this is much shorter than part 1. Do not feel dishearted, there will be a longer, more detailed part 3. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio.



“Are you ever going to speak to me?”

Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.

It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.

After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.

At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.

For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.

But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.

It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.

Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.

The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.

She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.

She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration. 

“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”

There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.

And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.

And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.

She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.

“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”

It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”

Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.

Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.

The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.

When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.

He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.

He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.

He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route. 

At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.

Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.

Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore. 

He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.

Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“

“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.

He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.

“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“

“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.

“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.

His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.

“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”

Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.

Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.

To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.

“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”

She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her. 

She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took. 

Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.

Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.

“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”

Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.

“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.

She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again. 

His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.

He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.

He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.

“Love, I—“

“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“

She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t  handle it anymore.

“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”

“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”

Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob. 

He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.

“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”

Tokens - Draco Malfoy One Shot (Requested by Anon)

request -  A DRACO MALFOY ONE SHOT RIGHT AFTER THE SECTUMSEMPRA SCENE WHERES HES IN THE HOSPITAL WING AND Y/N WONT LEAVE HIS SIDE AND AT THE END HE WAKES UP AND THEY END UP KISSING

“Draco? Draco where did he go?” I asked one of the prefects in my hall.

“I don’t know, go ask one of the professors or something, love.” The prefect lazily dozed off, going back to looking at one of his trading cards he hid in his robes.

“Everyone in this damn school is bloody useless.” I muttered under my breath, going up the probably 6th staircase in the last 20 minutes.

‘Which way to the medical wing? Do you have any idea?“ I asked a couple of students sitting out in the courtyards. They were some Ravenclaws and they seemed intimidated by the Slytherin themed robes I had on, but they seemed to have snapped out of their senses once I asked again.

"G-Go straight and then take a left. You’ll see a couple of nurses there.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, smiling and dashing off to the corridors in search of my friend. It had gotten a bit too heated today in Defense of the Dark Arts, having Draco called up to go against Potter from the Gryffindor house just to prove something that didn’t really matter. Draco had ended up getting really hurt and my heart was broken at the sight.

Unlike other people, I didn’t really blame anyone for this accident. I kind of take life as it is and when it sends to me. I don’t see any logical point in drowing your anger and sorrow into one person. Most times, it just doesn’t make sense.
You catch my drift at all? I hope you do.

“Shit, Draco!” I gasped, running in after seeing his almost sleeping state in one of the beds.

Keep reading

sex bomb

Harry works at lush and you’re a writer 

masterlist x

a/n : I hope you guys really like this story. I worked really hard and this story means a lot to me. So if anything I would really like some feedback and what you guys think of it. Thank you

 Today wasn’t the best day of work, sitting at a desk all day and answering phone calls from very impatient rude people isn’t fun. When I drive out of the parking lot and onto the road my mind starts to check off the list of things I have to do when I get home. Cook dinner, feed the cat and do the laundry. Right before I get on the freeway I decide to stop by the little strip mall that is right across the street. I turn and pull in and park right in front of 7-Eleven, I decide to grab myself a treat just to maybe calm my nerves a bit for the rest of the day. I walk out and jog up to the front door, I yank the door open and stride right up to the freezer. I looked at all the types of ice cream bars they had, Snickers, Twix and Hershey. I decide to get a Snickers bar and pull it out of its case. I walk through the aisles searching for anything else that may grab my attention. I decide to not get much more and head up to the front counter to pay for everything. The cashier rings everything up and I hand him the money, he hands me my bag and say thank you. I reach for the door and walk out to the sidewalk, i start to walk to my car when I look to my left and notice a wonderful smell coming towards me. I decide to have a look and to see where it is coming from. When I start to walk and notice that it is coming from this one store that is called lush, never heard of it before. I walk in and decide to have a look around to see what they have.

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“Did You Miss Me Baby?” (Harry Styles Smut)

Summary: Due to stress and missing Harry, Y/N is sexually frustrated. She tries to deal with it herself, but Harry surprises her by coming home early, and helps her out.

Requested: yes

Warnings: masturbation, blow job

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! This past week and last week have been EXTREMELY busy! I apologize to the person who requested this a while ago. At the time I got this request I was so focused on finishing up the “Come Home Harry, Come Home” series. So, to whoever requested this, thank you! And I hope you enjoy!

*Gif probably doesn’t match but like look at him, how I could I not love and use it?*

Originally posted by ohstylesno

“Did You Miss Me Baby?” (Harry Styles Smut)

For the past few weeks, you have been home alone since you needed to finish exams, and Harry has been traveling around from NYC to LA for his album promo.  In between study breaks, you would turn on either the Today Show or the Late Late Show.  Being away from Harry for a while, you were starting to get horny. You didn’t know it yet, but it wasn’t until you saw Harry in the pink suit on the Today Show, then the patterned and the black velvet suit on the Late Late Show.

With the mix of the stress, and missing Harry, you were frustrated.  Sexually frustrated. You were horny and Harry wasn’t there.  So, you had to deal with yourself.

You push your books off your bed and begin to take off your big t-shirt and sweatpants. After you take off your bra, you lie down of your back. You first move your hands up to your breasts. You close your eyes, and think of how Harry would move his hands over your body. You squeeze each of your breasts, and then pulling at your nipples.

You moan when you feel your nipples start too harden. Next you slowly move your hands down to your underwear, and pull them down to around your ankles. You bend your knees up, and open your legs. You take one of your fingers, and slide it down your slit feeling how wet you are. And then your slowly move your finger back up to your clit making circle shapes. You moan at the feeling. You think of when Harry taught you how to masturbate. Some morning, Harry laid behind you, and you laid your back on his chest, and opened your legs. He first played with your breasts, then moved his fingers down to your core. And you repeated exactly what he did. You first started slow circles, then faster circles on your clit as you got closer. But, Harry always told you to hold off on your orgasm, so when you do, it will be more intense.

So, you slipped one finger into your core, pumping it in and out slowly. Then you added another finger, pumping them faster. As you curl your fingers hitting your sweet spot, you take your thumb and rub it against your clit. Right when you are about to cum, you hear a thump noise and you jump up in fear. Because you were so into what you were doing, you did not even hear Harry come into your apartment calling your name to surprise you. The loud noise you heard, was Harry dropping his bags at the sight of you masturbating.

“Ah baby, that was a lovely sight to see when I first get home.” He says smirking, pulling off his shirt.

“Lay back down princess. Just relax.” He says kneeling down on the bed, putting his head down to your core.

He takes one lick, then looks up at you and raises his eye brows and goes, “Did you miss my baby?”

You just moan back in response.  Looking down you can see him smirking. And then he goes to work. He first licks your whole core with a flat tongue, but then focuses on your clit. He flicks it, moves his tongue side to side on it, and sucks on it.

As you feel yourself getting close, you beg Harry, “Fingers, please. I need your fingers.”

Harry does not remove his mouth from your clit, and adds one finger slowly. After feeling that you have adjusted to his finger, he adds another finger. This time, he removes his mouth from clit, to look at his fingers moving in and out of your core. He is mesmerized watching his fingers disappear, and then when he pulls them out to be covered in your wetness. Then Harry pumps his fingers in and out, faster and faster, curling them. He curls them until he knows that he hit your sweet spot.

Your breath hitches, and your toes start to curl in excitement.

“You wanna cum princess?” He asks not stopping pumping his fingers.

“Yes.” You breathe out.

“Cum.” He orders.

Harry then puts his mouth back on your clit, and continues to push his fingers in and out faster, curling them, helping to bring you to your orgasm. As you cum, you grab his hair, and toes curl.

“Yes, Harry. Yes, yes, yes!” You yell out cumming.  Your orgasm was so strong because you hadn’t cum in a while, and because you prolonged.
When you come down from your high, you pull Harry up and flip you two over so that you are on top. You kiss him, then kiss down his neck, chest, down to his v-line. Down to the hem of his pants.

“I need you cock baby.” You say, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down.
Harry folds his arms under his head, and looks so at peace. When you pull his pants down, you pulled his boxers down with them. After throwing his clothes on the floor, you see his hard cock spring up onto his chest.

Without any teasing, you start blowing him off. You first swirl your tongue along the head of his cock. When you look up at him, his mouth is slightly open as he groans, and his eyes close with furrowed eyebrows.

Wanting to make him feel good, and to hear him moan, you take him all into your mouth. You starts bobbing your head down, and what you cannot fit you use your hands.

“Take my cock baby.” Harry moans, looking down at the beautiful sight of his girlfriend going down on him.  “Show me how good your mouth is.”

You begin to tease him, by bobbing your head slower, but when you pull your head back, you hold his cock, and with a flat tongue you lick his head, and then go back down on him.

“Babe, if you keep going I’m gonna cum, and I wanna cum in you.” Harry begs.
Reluctantly you pull back with a pout.

“Don’t pout baby.” Harry says flipping you over, so that he is on top. “I am going to make you feel good.” He says giving you a kiss.

He then open your legs, and pushes himself in. You both groan at the feeling. You are groaning at the feeling of being filled up, and he is groaning at the feeling of how you squeeze around him perfectly.

“Babe, I’m not gonna last long, you feel so good.” Harry moans, thrusting into you fast.

“Ugh, yes Harry. I missed you.” You say kissing him.

“I missed you too love. You make me feel so good.” He moans.

“Faster Harry, faster.” You moan.

Harry then grabs your hips and begins thrusting faster. You moan as you hear the wet sounds of him entering you, and your skin smacking together.

Overwhelmed with pressure, you scratch down his back, which causes him to groan in pressure.

“You fill me up so good, so deep.” You moan in his ear.

“You close?” He breathes out. Before you could answer, he takes his thumb and starts making circles on your clit, and you start tightening around his cock.

“Yes” You moan.

“Cum for me.” He says, thrusting faster into you, circling his finger quicker. With his words, you let go. You scream out his name with your legs wrapping around his waist.

After you relax, you begin moaning in Harry’s ear, “Cum for me baby. Fill me up. I want to feel you inside of me. Cum.”

With your dirty words, and seeing you a moment ago cum, Harry releases inside of you, groaning out your name, thrusting hard and fast into you. When he comes down, he rolls over next to you, and puts his arm around you, pulling you close to him, kissing your forehead.

“I miss you baby.” He said, running his fingers through your hair.

“I missed you too baby.” You say, kissing his chest.

“Thank you for my welcome home present.” He says smirking.


A/N: Sorry this took so long to post! I wrote it last night, then got so distracted by the Stanley Cup that I forgot to post it! Tell me what you guys think!

MASTERLIST ☻

[*] indicate smut. Reader’s discretion advised.

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» to see all writing in order, click “harry styles smut” in the tags :-)

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Okay but riding Harry in a bath tub..

Candles lit around you two in the dark room, as the scent of sweet lavender lingers in the air. You kiss Harry’s jawline as his hands rest on your bum, giving it a good squeeze when you get to the sweet spot right under his ear, blowing some cooling air on the wet mark.

He tries and lifts you up a bit, just so he can kiss your chest, wrap his lips around your nipple and suckle the sensitive nubbin. Your back arches when he flicks his tongue, making you push yourself more against his cock. He moans against your skin, his eyes closed and his wet curls combed back by his fingers.

You grind your hips slowly against his shaft, earning an angelic whimper from his perfectly o-shaped lips as his lashes flutter. You look at him, and you can see the pain his eyes trying so gard to keep his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Please, baby. Could yeh, um-” Harry trails off, pushing your hair down your back and tracing his fingers on your collarbones.

“What baby? What do you want?” you ask him, adding more pressure to your grinds this time. Harry’s breath hitches and he whimpers again, his legs slightly trembling under you.

“Plea-.. please ride me. Please baby.”

You take hold of his hard shaft and settle it to your entrance. Just to tease him, you only take in his red sensitive tip. Then you slowly start to sink down on him, his hips shifting under you, and he starts panting.

“Like this baby? Does it feel good?” You coo at him, and he bites his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

You take Harry’s hands and guide them to take hold of your hips. As you start to get into a good rhythm, Harry’s veins and ridges massaging your wet walls, making you cleanch around him, his grip on your hips tightens and he’s trying to gently thrust up into you.

“Ungh, ahh fuck. Jus’ like tha’, slide down m’ cock, so fucking wet and snug fo’ me.”

Need (blurb)

I have no idea where this came out of.

WARNINGS: Its just pure… filth

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