The first instalment of The Live On Tour 2018 Series:

It’s been a few months since his first tour ended and Harry’s back again. This time with more hair, additional expensive suits and a new girlfriend.

He, like in September, can’t wait for the tour to begin. However, there’s a difference to how the Northern boy feels. Months ago, he was a bubble of nerves, with the urge to throw up and now he’s confident in the sense that no one would hate him and start booeing.

He has a girlfriend that’s been there for him since day one, aside from the time they were having a fued while the transition from best friends to partners was in motion.

“How do you feel, H? New tour, new songs - ”

“ - new girlfriend!” Adam chimes in, a sly smile creeping on his face as he gives a thumbs up to the megastar who gently tells him to fuck off.

Keep reading

six months early for 2019 just to be sure


Originally posted by ohstylesno

Hello, loves! This is my masterlist for all of my Harry writings :) Enjoy! xx - L

* - smut

^ - written, but not posted yet

Keep reading

Harry Fic Recommendation Post

There are so many great blogs and great fics out there that I think deserve more love, so I thought I would do up a post. I have probably missed so many blogs but I will be doing another post when I hit one thousand followers.

Originally posted by thestylesgifs

I’ll put the blog first, then some of their fics I love in particular with brief descriptions.

Some of the fics don’t have titles, so the description is the link.


  • Adore - Harry makes a realization
  • Home - Harry being asked about the picture of you in his wallet
  • Talk to Me - giving Harry the silent treatment after getting sick



  • Shakespeare - amazing series in which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA of your new English class. A perfect blend of romance and angst, does contain smut so be warned.
  • Break M’Own Rules - in which alcohol and pricks make for a messy, angry Harry




  • Running on Empty - fainting into Harry’s arms at the gym is one way to get his attention, right?



  • Ruins -  you, along with hundreds of others, are living in a post-apocalyptic society brought upon earth by nuclear war. The effect of this is long-lasting and only allows you to see the sun one every two years. I love this fic a lot, it deserves so much more love and I really hope there will be a part two.

I’m so sorry if I haven’t included your blog in this post, I probably love your blog and have just forgotten to give you a mention. Keep writing more amazing stuff because I love it all!

My masterlist // my second recommendation post


Here it is! This is my first oneshot and longest piece yet – please be kind. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Happy reading! xxh

Request? Yes! 

getting in a fight with harry and you almost break up and you have emotional sex where you’re both crying and stealing kisses and it’s raw and you’re both just so in love and i don’t know meaningful sex is so much better than just getting in each other’s pants when you feel like it – anon

Word count: 4.5k 

Genre: Angst/smut

Pairing: y/n & Harry

It was quite odd how you could feel so alone in a room so full of people.

Music jumping off of the walls, a steady bass thumping in your chest; laughter cutting through the air, cheers every so often as another round was poured out. The energy was addictive, yet you felt as if you were secluded in your own little bubble, away from everyone else and invisible to the party guests.

Harry stood beside you, happily buzzing with a glass of whiskey in hand. His laughs bellowed out from his chest and were much louder than normal – amplified by the alcohol pulsing through his body. He wasn’t drunk, but the extra confidence given to him by the glass he held was very obvious.

He’d turn to you, mouth parted and about to ask a question, but was swiftly pulled away by an eager acquaintance to congratulate him on ‘his big debut in Hollywood!’ or ‘his incredible new music!’. Harry was too kind to just brush off the compliment with a simple “thank you,” and was quickly taken up in another conversation, leaving you alone.

Keep reading

A list of every angst piece.

I’ve only come to realization with a recent ask that I am the biggest fan of angst yet have the greatest tendency to forget the writer and/or the title of it.

Whether you’re a writer or a reader, reblog or send an ask of any angst writing you know and help make me and people re-live the heartache by reading them again!

Harry’s a pilot, and Y/N is a shy flight attendant on his flight

Originally posted by bionicmalik-blog

Warnings: A lot of Smut

Word Count: 8k

*Smut, angst, fluff…a lot of everything

Wrote something a little different xx

“Y/N, the baby in seat 32c threw up on the floor again.”

She groans. Her neat bun was now beginning to have stray pieces peeking out of it messily, fingers sore from preparing all of the bloody meals for the flight (which tasted disgusting, so she doesn’t understand why anyone bothers eating them), and grabs the powdery cleaning material, working to walk towards the mess of vomit near the end of the plane.

When she gets back from cleaning up the mess, she realizes no other flight attendant is at the station, and that three people have been pressing their call buttons. Before she has the time to wonder where the fuck everyone is, she leaves in a rush to tend to the passengers. She tends to the first class passenger first, he rudely asks her for a bottle of Perrier water. ‘Not water, Perrier’ he specifies cockily before looking away. First class passengers were always the worst, so unsurprisingly she marches away in concealed anger and gets him his stupid Perrier.

The hardest part of being a flight attendant was not falling asleep, and constantly having to move around everywhere. Although there were some plus sides, like the stealthy tips she would receive for helping some of the first class passengers.

After serving peanuts and giving wine to the other two passengers, she relocates someone in economy who’s TV screen stopped working, giving someone a spare set of cheap earbuds, and listens to her fellow attendants gossip about who the hottest person on the flight was. She then finally realizes it’s time for her break. Sighing contently, she pops her back and then turns to head towards the cockpit.

Y/N swears she’s the only attendant who has this break, given that this wasn’t a very demanding flight with many people and that everyone had somehow taken their break while she was alone, working at the demand of the few people on the flight. She approaches the uncomfortably cold bunker, closing the door, and begins to strip down her clothing, goosebumps forming on her skin from how cold it is. She’s prepared to take a shower in the first class shower chamber connected to the cockpit before lulling off to sleep like she usually does.

But just as she strips off her button down, leaving her in just her underwear and her bra, she hears the door click open. Startled, and standing awkwardly in the center of the room, she just stares wide eyed at the door frame.

It appears the other person is just as shocked as well, she opens her mouth to scream, only a small whimper escaping her throat as a large hand makes its way up to cover her mouth.

“You scream, we both get fired.” An accented voice states. Even in the conservative lighting of the room, she makes out two bright green eyes staring widely back at her. There’s a head of tousled hair on him, followed by a crest on a neat navy jacket, a crest only worn by pilots.

Harry is shocked when he opens the doors to see the flight attendant he’s quite sure he’s frequented a few flights before with. She’s rather shy, but when she’s working near the attendants she’s close to, the laughter never seems to cease. She’s served him his meals a few times, leaving encouraging notes handwritten onto sticky notes stuck onto his plates of food,

“Mr. Styles?” she manages to sputter out. Her mouth being pressed down on by his large hands. He nods, curls bobbing up and down before he figures she won’t yell. He then peels his hand off of her mouth.

He nods, clearly exhausted as his curls bop against his forehead. He was known for kind of being a tight ass, normally speaking with a rather strict tone and staying up the entire flight because he didn’t trust anyone else to do the job for him. Evidently, tonight that all seemed to go to dust, as he stood tiredly in the cockpit of the plane.

Y/N doesn’t give herself much time to ponder, covering her nearly exposed chest by crossing her forearms. The gesture, although covering the view of her lacy bra, pushes her breasts up further unintentionally. The action draws Harry’s attention to her breasts, and he blushes visibly, staring for a few moments before he tears his gaze away and clears his throat.

“I-I thought I was the only one who had this break.” Y/N nervously speaks. Harry nods in understanding, “I don’t really take much break time so they forget to add me into the schedule sometimes.”

Y/N nods in understanding, clearing the awkward silence by nearly sprinting away from him and into the shower lounge. And from the corner of her eye, she swears she hears him laughing, chuckling slightly at her actions.


It’s cold.

Like, really fucking cold.

They must be the unluckiest two workers on the entire plane. It appeared as if their flight was flying over the far south of the world just as they situated themselves into their bunkers. The chamber was freezing, all of the hot air and heating being used to warm up the passengers due to their prioritization by the airline.

Harry and Y/N are both shuddering in their individual bunks, both too shy to say anything as they basically communicate with the sound of their teeth chattering. Eventually, knowing there’s no way that Harry’s possibly sleeping at this temperature, Y/N decides to speak up,

“I’m literally freezing to death.”

She bluntly states. And Harry can’t help but laugh at the upfront nature of the statement. His laugh sputters out as he shivers, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.

“Tell me about it. M’closer to dying of the cold than falling asleep.” He replies from a few uncomfortable foam mattresses away. Y/N laughs loudly, her laughing heating up her cheeks and warming her up a bit as she thinks of a snarky response.

“I’m going to pass in the cockpit of a plane, with the most influential thing I last did being cleaning up some baby’s vomit.” She feigns distress, and the both of them giggle while laying there, unable to sleep.

They bask in comfortable silence after that, until Harry clears his throat to speak again.

“Y/N I don’t - don’t really know you that well, but i’d say we’re both pretty uncomfortable because it’s so cold so uh-” He cuts himself off, but Y/N can tell where he’s leading.

“Do you-wanna, uhm-”

And Y/N almost swoons, her heart thumping louder (maybe it’s because she’s nearing her death at how cold she is), and she figures it’s because how fucking cute he is. With his fluffy chocolate hair and his hesitant and nervous questioning.

“Share a bed?” She finishes his suggestion. Through the dim lighting of the moving plane, she can practically see him blushing.

“S’really cold, I don’t think either of us’ll be able to sleep like this.” He reasons, and he doesn’t have to speak twice before Y/N unbuckles her cot, hopping out of it with her pillow tucked beneath her arm before sinking into the soft padding of his. He lies his thin blanket over both of their frames, and she awkwardly lies on her side so that she face him.

He wraps his arm around her waist, her face poking lightly at his chest as he sighs contently, the both of them much warmer than they were moments ago. She can smell the scent of his expensive cologne lingering on the white t-shirt he’s wearing - he can probably afford it with his large pilot salary. Feeling content, she snakes an arm underneath his arm and above his torso, pulling him closer and falling asleep.

She didn’t notice his absence from beneath the sheets at first. The presence of his warmth still lingering beneath them as she stuffed her face closer into the pillow, half asleep and half awake.

But the warmth doesn’t last on the sheets for long. Soon she realizes how much cooler they’ve gotten. Her hands reach around herself to feel that she’s rolled up inside the thin material, not a trace of Harry underneath them. So tiredly, just in case he’s having trouble getting his sleep schedule on track or is silently freezing to death besides her, she cracks open a sliver of her eyes, only to be met with complete darkness.

The alarm clock on the wall of the plane displays a glowy 2, and she know it’s the middle of the night, around 4 hours until they land, and three before they have to wake up to get ready to quickly empty the plane.

Her eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness, she stares at the safety guidelines on the wall to adjust to the darkness. She then moves her eyes, rolling her gaze to the other side of the bed, and that’s when she sees him.

Truthfully she was expecting to see him absent from the bed as a whole. Maybe he had realized how awkward it was to be sharing a bed with some random flight attendant, and he hurried back to work after an hour of sleep. So her eyes widen a bit when she sees her superior, a visible tint in his boxers, mouth open while silently groaning into the quiet space of the room.

She want to fall back asleep, wants to ignore the way that his fingers curl up every once in a while from the lost contact he can’t give himself in his dreamy state, but she can’t bring herself to do so. The more she stares at him, the more awake she becomes.

And god, he looks like something straight out of a movie. His curls are resting messily against the white fabric of the pillow situating his head. His stomach is flexing every once in a while, the tattoos on his creamy skin that are visible through his shirt curving a bit every time he does so. He looks so pretty, like she could take a filthy picture of him in this state and publish it in a few decades on the walls of the louvre.

But as beautiful as he looks, he also looks helpless, his forehead in a permanently creased state as he can’t get the release he craves. There’s a damp spot forming in his grey boxers, the small gap in the front of them opening as he grows fuller.

She questions whether she should do it, full on debates the pros and cons of her probable actions in her head. He is basically her boss, she admits, but the chances are that she’d never see him again after this flight. The odds of being assigned directly to a flight with the same pilot from the one she served before were very slim.

So she reaches out immediately, fingers merely ghosting over the fabric of the tight boxers. Just as she traces over the very prominent bulge there, he lets out a throaty groan.

She almost moans at the sound, but quickly clamps her other hand over her mouth, being careful not to wake him. He’s so sensitive in his dream state, every little touch driving him nearly over the edge.

Slowly, and very carefully, she situates herself between his long legs that are split apart on the narrow space of the small bed. Her legs are folded uncomfortably beneath her, but she figures it won’t take long to get him off.

She pinches at the top of the boxers he’s wearing. He sighs at the feeling of the fabric gliding across his hard member, fingers turning over to grip the cheap fabric of the sheets beneath him. She’s increasingly careful not to wake him up, focusing on getting him off so that she can warmly go back to sleep with him tucked under the sheets again.

“Unh” He lets out of his parted lips, eyes still closed when his boxer band lets him free, his member bounces up after being released from the confines of the clothing, curving upwards towards the ceiling.

Her mouth begins to water in hunger, even though she specifically remembers going to bed full on airplane peanuts and cheap coffee. The tip is swollen red, shiny from the precum coating it as it slides down the sides of his shaft. He’s so hard it looks like it hurts, explaining the furrowing of his eyebrows even in his slumber.

Not being able to resist herself any longer, she reaches forward, one hand holding his boxers back a bit and the other hovering over him. She allows her thumb to graze over the tip of his cock, picking up some of the glossy liquid in the process. His breathing stutters and she brings her thumb up to her lips to taste him.

She whimpers at the salty taste, becoming greedier and greedier by the second. She lean her head over his hips, nose slightly nudging at his tip. He seems sensitive to any contact, his abs flexing a bit when she does so.

Then, she sticks her tongue out of her mouth, curtly letting the liquid on the tip of his member meet the soft surface of her tongue. He immediately lets out another groan, loud enough to encourage her but quiet enough to let her know he’s still incapable of grasping reality.

Breathing heavily from the arousal dripping between her legs, dampening her shorts after soaking through her underwear, she finally, finally, dips down and takes him between her parted lips, warming him up inside of her mouth.

He breathes in, she can tell as she stares at his stomach expanding through the curtain of her lashes. But in the middle of his breath, he chokes a bit, head jerking. Although she can’t quite see his face from the angle, she can tell he’s awake.

He dips his head from side to side, probably trying to acknowledge that he’s woken up and that whatever occurred in his dream, stayed in his dream. To let him know she’s still there, she lets the tip of her tongue drag across the crease where his head meets his shaft, pressing it against the sliver intensely. He throws back his head once again, moaning loudly as his hand goes to grip his member, finding her head there instead.

His eyes snap to where she’s situated, back arched as one of her hands holds him gently, the other one lightly gripping his thigh to keep her in place.

“Hey, love.” His voice is raspy from having just woken up, something that dampens her inner thighs even more as she whimpers with him in her mouth. He inhales sharply at the vibration, admiring her.

She pulls more of him into her mouth greedily, pushing him between her lips as her tongue licks at the thick vein running from the bottom of his shaft to the top. She looks up at him to see his head thrown back, his eyes closed as he concentrates on the feeling.

And she doesn’t like that.

So she tightens the hand gripping his thigh, as if she’s telling him “Look at me!” without speaking. He gets the hint, eyes snapping open as she holds eye contact with him, sinking down even further.

“Oh, fuck.” He grabs at her hair, gripping it in his palms and pulling it to start her bobbing motion. She obeys, beginning to sink him in and out of her mouth in a rhythm comfortable for the both of them.

“G’na…” He trails off, whimpering when she suck on his tip for a little bit, soothing her sore jaw. She finds it so strange to witness a man or his sture and status moaning beneath her after having a wet dream. “G’na cum, pet.” His words slur from the pleasure, head pressing itself further into the pillow. She started while he was half hard, so it doesn’t take him long to finish.

She feels him throb into her mouth, getting closer and closer to tipping over the edge as he grows hotter and hotter on her tongue.

When he cums, she lets herself pop off of him, opening her mouth just enough to show him that she enjoys swallowing what he gives her. Ropes of white cum decorate her tongue, he stares at her in awe and hunger as she strokes him with her hand, focusing on milking the rest of him out.

And god, he looks so fucked when he’s done, cheeks flushed in adoration as he softly runs his thumb across her cheek. He doesn’t see it coming when she grabs him again, right after popping off.

“What are yeh…” He trails off when she runs her thumb across the slit on his tip, adoring how hard he still is. He’s insatiable, she thinks, when he twitches in her hand as her cold graduation ring makes contact with his upper shaft.

“You look like you could go for another one.” She winks cheekily, lowering her head before taking him in again. But just as she readies herself to bob down onto him once more, he meets her halfway, pushing up into her lips and filling her mouth up. He looks down at her, making sure she’s comfortable as she pats his hip with her free hand.

And although he seems like he’s enjoying it completely, he’s breathless in his confession, completely overwhelmed as he chokes out an, “I don’t know if I can.” And the sound of him, so needy and so fucked out only motivates her further. She quickly pulls him in and out of her mouth, using her hand to cover the parts her mouth won’t.

“God, baby.” He whimpers, widening his thighs to give her more space to work with. She pulls off for a bit, catching her breath before preparing herself for what she’s about to do. But just as she pulls her head back, his hand pushes at her head, motioning her to reposition himself inside of her mouth, where she was before she popped off. She pushes her head back in slight irritation, ticked off at his actions.

“Do you want me to keep going?” She asks him, sitting upright on her folded knees. He stares at her, the both of them gasping for air as he replies with an, “Of course” Wanting her to continue her actions.

“Then keep your hands off, Baby” She tell him snarkily. His hands immediately detach themselves from her head, gripping instead at the sheets once again. He pulls on them when she wraps her hand tightly around him again, pulling up and down to drive him closer once again.

A small layer of sweat glazes his forehead, messy hair sticking to the surface of his skin. His lips are just as swollen as hers, a result of biting down on them in anticipation. And god, he just looks so pretty. She can’t help herself when she takes one of her hands off of his thighs, instead placing it in between hers as she feels her wet folds dripping against her fingertips. She inserts a finger inside of herself, moaning when she submerges it completely.

He stares at her as she touches herself, wanting to do the same but remembering her strict words. So he moans, stares at her expectantly, and waits for her to touch him again.

And he doesn’t wait long, she moves her fingers back and forth inside of herself as he groans silently, and she returns her mouth onto him to take him in and out. When she hits a tender spot inside of herself, she lets her mouth sink down completely, her nose nudging against the area where his v-line begins.

He groans as he aggressively hits the back of her throat, so loudly that she’s afraid he’ll wake the other passengers on the flight. She doesn’t mind it though, allowing herself to do the same.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t - can’t” He pants out, making her tighten her lips even more as she bops up and down more intensely.

“Fuck!” He yells out, his torso jerking up as he hits his second high. She holds him in her mouth, removing her finger from inside of herself to press his torso back down onto the sheets with her  now free hand. Swallowing while still sucking at his softening member, she summons some more explicit language from between his lips, hearing the melodic sound of his quieting voice.

Finally popping off of him, she waits until he softens a bit before pulling up his boxers. She then lays her head against his soft stomach, grabbing his hand and laying it on her head to signal that she wants his hands running through her hair.

“Thank you” He mutters, taking her hand as he presses a soft kiss on the back of it. He intertwines one hand with hers as she feels her head raising up and down along with his breaths, sighing contently at how incredibly happy she is. She frowns at the that she won’t see him much after this, but focuses on how he throws the sheets over their small cot, making it the most comfortable bed she’s been on with his presence.


Y/N doesn’t know whether she’s elated, or disappointed at the arrangements she received in her email for the flight she’s serving. She stared at the list of flight attendants, seeing some familiar ones (familiar enough for her to recognize, but not close to her in any way shape or form), and some that she’s never heard of before. It’s a trans pacific flight, from the Asian country they were originally situated at to somewhere in North America that she really doesn’t remember. The flight log says that it’ll take around 7 hours for the flight to go from one place to the other, and Y/N sighs because that most likely means she either won’t get a break, or will get a break so short it’s practically nonexistent.

But that isn’t what has her head splitting apart.

As she walks onto the plane, mechanics still working for takeoff are scattering around it. A few attendants are already there, and she grabs a physical copy of the itinerary. But as she boredly awaits the crossing bridge to extend, and passengers to fill the large space, she begins to read it once again out of boredom.

It’s the fact that when she turns the page over, looking to peek at who the two pilots were, just to be cautious, she’s met with an all too recognizable name.

Pilot: Harry Edward Styles

RTG Global Flight School

England, United Kingdom

Certified May 6th of 2016

She doesn’t know if she should be nervous or not, wonders how he’ll go about the…situation that occurred the last time they served the same flight - the last time being the day before yesterday.

Her worries soon dissolve though, as two men in uniforms are the first to approach the plane. While the other attendants talk about an attractive passenger preparing to board, setting their bets on what he does for a living, her eyes scatter to meet piercing green ones unsurprisingly boring into her own. He doesn’t seem the least bit shocked, or flustered that she’s here once again and he breaks eye contact quickly, walking into the piloting room at the front of the plane.

4 Hours into the flight, the attendants are in the midst of giving out lunch. Every meal is frustrating, due to the high demand of drinks surrounding the time around the serving of the meal. Refusing to eat it due to her distaste for airline food, she’s reminded that the pilots have not yet received their meal.

She really doesn’t want to serve it.

But she’s the only attendant not preoccupied with a trash bag, or a drink cart. So she doesn’t exactly have a choice when she finds herself knocking on the door of the piloting room, hearing footsteps approaching her as her heart thuds.

Fortunately and unfortunately for her, the older pilot who isn’t - him - opens the door, grey hair tucked beneath his hat.

“I’ve been informed that you haven’t received your lunch?” She asks questioningly, she lowers her voice a bit so that the other pilot doesn’t recognize her.

“I actually think i’ll manage off of our coffee and biscuits.” The older man looks over his shoulder, “Harry? Do you need anything for lunch?”

And then Harry shifts a gear, his broad arm flexing through his suit jacket as he pulls something. He turns around in his cushy spinny chair, eyes widening when he notices her presence in the room. They stay frozen for a bit, simply staring at each other before the middle aged man snaps them both out of it.


“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asks, blinking a few times.

“Do you want lunch?” He asks, awaiting his response so that he can get back to working.

“No, I think i’m good. Arthur, when do you think I could have my break?”

And then she leaves, closing the door behind her as she steps back into the room with the refreshments. She takes a small packet of coffee biscuits, stuffing two into her mouth and crunching down on them as a small snack.

She hears the creak of a door sound in the distance, and figures she must’ve misheard and it must be from a seat. She also thinks it may be from the far bathroom, but just as she’s lost in her thoughts, she feels a set of warm arms wrap around her waist from behind.

Startled, she drops the last cookie in the the package, quickly turning around to be met with a whiff of the same expensive cologne she enjoyed inhaling two nights before. His hand quickly grabs hers, pulling her into the spacious restroom for the staff before closing the door behind them and locking it.

“Mr. Styles, I have work to-”

She begins, keeping her language professional and trying to excuse herself politely. She felt guilty standing in a restroom while every other attendant was working.

“If they say anything, just say I got sick and you were helping me in the restroom.” He mutters lowly into her ear, pulling her into his chest as he lightly nips at her neck. She sighs, breathy moans passing her lips.

“And call me Harry.” He finishes, just as Y/N brings her hand up to lightly pull at the roots of his hair. He moves his lips up, dragging a wet trail from her neck to her jaw, and then her jaw to her lips.

“Harry…” She whimpers, grazing her fingers across the hair on the nape of his neck as she pulls him in, and finally attaches her lips to his.

They work intensely after that in a rush to push together their lips fervorously as they attach, detach, and reattach their lips in a rhythmic motion. His hands grip the back of her thighs, and he squats down, bending his knees before straightening them and picking her up. Y/N squeals, and Harry admires her cute nature before placing her atop of the sink, her legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him in.

The bump in his blue suit pants rubs against her, and she rushes to unbuckle his belt, sloppily tearing it out of his pants before throwing it onto the floor of the bathroom. He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning her blouse, merely hiking up her skirt before sliding his hands up her thighs and gripping her underwear in his knuckles, pulling down the flimsy lace material.

While he rushes to do this, she rubs against the bulge in his underwear, heat radiating off of the baggy material. There’s a name brand logo printed onto the waistband and she figures it’s since he makes such an abundance of money that he’s able to afford nice things.

As he removes her underwear, fingers slicking her wetness against her folds, she groans and pulls down his boxers, tugging him closer to her.

“Shit, wait. Do you have a…?” He trails off. She shakes her head, immediately replying before he has time to get discouraged, “I’m on the pill.”

“I’ll pull out just in case” He declares. And she nods as he stands straighter. She whimpers when his tip nudges at her clit, grabbing his member herself and finally pushing the tip inside of her.

Harry’s a mess, groaning out of control. The events from the night before last were all that was on his mind, the memory of her tonguing at the tip of his cock too enjoyable to merely forget. And now he finally, finally gets to feel her. Pressing inside of her slowly, he closes his eyes, with his senses heightened he takes in every little sound she makes.

“Shit, Y/N.” Bowing his head, he takes her breast into one hand as he slips it underneath the unbuttoned part of her blouse, sucking at the soft skin in the crevice between the two round globes. She bites her lip to keep from being too loud, although she knows it won’t be a problem due to the soundproof walls of the bathroom.

“Baby, fuck” He pulls out of her, pushing in again a bit faster this time. They’re both so needy, wanting to feel each other as close as possible as they make use of what limited time they have before his break is over and someone comes looking for her.

She looks down, admiring the way he’s so thick and full, and how he fills her up so perfectly. Her eyes stay glued to his hips, feeling a series of emotions. On one hand, she wants to cry from how good he feels inside of her. But on the other, she wants to be angry because she probably won’t ever feel him like this again.

He lays the pad of his finger on the bottom of her chin, lifting her head up so that they’re holding eye contact. Their eyes are both swirly, feeling euphoric and he mutters words that almost make her melt into the floor right where they are.

“Beautiful, pet.” he rams into her faster, “S’fucking beautiful.”

His words begin to slur as he presses them further and further to their ends. And just as Y/N swears she’s about to let her eyes release tears from how amazing she feels, there’s a knock at the door.

“Y/N? We need you out here.” She hears Christophers light voice say, quietly so that he doesn’t doesn’t disturb any of the passengers but loudly enough into the crack of the soundproof door so that she can hear him.

Harry, doesn’t like that, though. The idea that while he’s trapped in minimal space with Arthur (Who is a very nice man, don’t misunderstand him), she’s surrounded by multiple male employees. Probably having conversations with them. So after Christopher walks away, he turns his head to suck at her neck, nearing his finish but trying to make the moment last.

Still pounding into her quickly, he scatters his breath and sucks at her neck, using it as a form of comfort to let her pesky coworkers know that she had in fact been fucking the pilot in the employee bathroom right before going back to serving everyone.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him so much. Because it really shouldn’t, he shouldn’t be so affected by some girl who’s just doing her job. But maybe it’s how good her hair smells, like a tropical drink he believes he had at a bar once or how loud and needy she suddenly gets when he’s inside of her.

It isn’t much longer until Harry pulls out of her, tightly fisting at himself before releasing into the part of the sink she isn’t situated on.

After they finish, grunting into the hot air in the space around them, she moves to press her skirt down, wiping down her blouse to seem just the slightest bit more professional. Neither of them were particularly worried about getting caught, considering there was no viable evidence stacked against them and that they hadn’t put anyone in danger or anything.

Harry works to put himself back together, but not before he feels a small hand smack at his arm. Y/N stands next to him, a shy smirk playing on her lips as she motions to the purplish bruise forming on the side of her neck.

“Really, Harry? How am I supposed to go to work?” She complains. He smiles, grasping some of her soft hair between his fingers before draping it over her shoulders, covering her chest as well in the process. Smiling, he mutters a small, “Beautiful” before lightly kissing her forehead and moving to leave the restroom.

A few moments after Harry leaves, Y/N exits the restroom just as Christopher approaches the door. He slides into the restroom right after she leaves, and she prays he doesn’t notice anything odd about the appearance of the space.

Her hope is crushed, however, when he walks out a minute later, eyebrows furrowed as he holds a men’s Gucci belt in his hands.

“Is this yours?” He asks her, remembering how she was the last person to leave the restroom.

“Uh, yeah.” She tells him, tucking the belt into her tote bag in the corner of the room crowded with other assistants. She makes a mental note to herself to scold Harry the next time she sees him. That is, if she ever sees him again.


“What is this?” Y/N motions between her and Harry.

They had been staying at the same hotel, which was arranged due to the fact that the airline reserved rooms for each member of their staff. Y/N had been pondering her unusual actions of the past few days, stressing herself out over what exactly her and Harry were. They were just having sex, right?

So why does ‘just having sex’ make her feel this way?

When she saw him sitting alone, a glass of golden liquid in one of his ring clad fingers at the stool of a hotel bar, she approaches him without hesitation. He’s wearing the same suit he was before, except he’s discarded his jacket with all of his piloting badges and patches, leaving him in his dress pants and his white button up.

She wasted no time, walking up to him before questioning him very abruptly. He’s a bit startled at first, staring at her in surprise and blinking a few times to make sure she’s actually there.

“Y/N” He states, as a response to her question that she clearly wasn’t satisfied with.

“Are you going to answer my question?” She asks him. As far as she was concerned, sex didn’t mark her with bruises to prove she was taken. Sex didn’t call her beautiful in the midst of a moment meant to be shallow and purely physical.

“We…have sex.” He answers simply. He states what’s obvious, what was already clearly right there.

“Is that it?” She asks, not wanting to feel the flood of emotions that sends a pang to her chest. To her displeasure, though, she feels the rush of sadness hit her. Punching her right above her heart as she lets a small frown form on her lips.

“Y/N”, he turns to her on the high barstool. She stand between his legs in her blouse and skirt, hair still down from when he placed it gently on her chest and shoulders. “Even if I wanted to, we couldn’t.” He honestly tells her, emerald orbs burning into hers. She looks dejectedly at him, staring up at him in defeat. She doesn’t know what exactly she was expecting. She knew that with their schedules, anything even close to a relationship was practically doomed to fail, she feels stupid for asking as she grounds her gaze to the floor.

“Oh.” She stares at her feet, the paint from her pedicure chipping off from constantly walking.

“So is that all it was for you? Just sex?” She asks him. He stays quiet, and she doesn’t even let herself look at him in hopes of seeing agreeance on his face. She thinks she receives his answer though after he’s quiet for a good minute.

There’s a frown forming on her face, salty tears threatening to burn at her tired eyes. She doesn’t even know why she let herself get her hopes up. Maybe she’d figured that finding someone with an occupation similar to hers would allow them to travel together, she should’ve know that happy endings and work relationships only existed in movies and books.

“Hey, wait.” He grabs at her hand. Harry doesn’t know how to feel, either. He knows that he’s enamored by her spontaneity, and enlightened by her sense of humor. He remembers overhearing her conversations with her coworkers, laughing even though he wasn’t a part of the conversations.

But as much as he’s completely smitten for her, he understands their occupations don’t allow them to make time for personal issues. He was constantly flying all over the place, and no matter how much he liked her, he couldn’t put her through the stress of coming only to go.

She yanks her hand from his gentle grip, crossing both of her arms over her chest. Y/N knows she probably looks like a proper mess at the moment, mascara spreading under her eyes and flushed cheeks as she accepts her embarrassment.

“Just, make sure not to call your friends with benefits beautiful the next time you fuck them, okay?”

He tone is bitter, but her voice sound so soft and defeated. Harry sighs, he really wishes he hadn’t done what he just did. Throwing back the rest of what’s in his glass, he orders another one, trying to numb away the guilt of his own actions.


Harry misses the smell of coconut shampoo.

He remembers softly inhaling it before he drifted off into sleep, Y/N resting in his arms with her warm breath fanning across the fabric of his t-shirt. He doesn’t know what exactly it is that she uses, but he knows that every time he smells the tropical scent he’s taken back to the time he ran his fingers through her hair. Granted, it was right after she had sucked him off, and that was pretty memorable, but he thinks the best part of that night was watching her lightly smile in her slumber as Harry’s fingertips glided across her features.

He enters the hotel bathroom, stumbling in after too many drinks. He remembers the bellhop having to escort him upstairs, Harry leaning all of his weight onto the frail man as he struggled to shove him inside of his hotel room.

He enters the restroom to take a shower and wash himself off before going to bed. While he was drunk out of his mind, he wasn’t disgusting. He had a sense of basic hygiene, even when he was the polar opposite of sober.

When he enters the shower, after ridding himself of his clothes, he finds small complimentary tubes of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Wetting his hair, he squirts some of the shampoo ono his hands. The second he begins to fluff the liquid through his hair, however, the familiar smell of coconut fills his nostrils. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine that it’s not his drunk and lonely self in the shower alone, but that Y/N is behind him, the smell radiating off of her instead.

But she isn’t with him in the shower, and she certainly wouldn’t want to be either.

Not breaking out of his intoxicated trance, Harry washes the shampoo out of his hair. Not even bothering to condition or wash up properly, he slips on a fuzzy white robe and stumbles out into the hallway.

The floor must be reserved for members of the crew they had today, he assumes from prior experience. He’s lacking proper thought so he walks down the rest of the long hallway, shouting Y/N’s names and praying to a higher power that a door opens and she stumbles out.

A door opens behind him, and he turns around to be greeted with her beautiful face. Instead he’s met with skinny arms and lanky legs, one of the first aid people assigned to be on each plane. He blinks at the bright light, probably awoken from Harry’s constant screaming.

“Mr. Styles?” He mutters, eyes widening a bit at the rumored stuck up pilot of their plane. He’s surprised to see Harry in such a vulnerable state, looking like he’s close to both laughing and crying.

“Y/N!” He yells again, laughing as he stumbles into the wall.

“Y/n?” The medical boy questions, “She’s in the room next to mine, I think.”

And that’s all it takes for Harry to stumble-run to where the boy turns around to go back inside of his own room. Harry rapidly knocks at the door, knuckles bruising as he has no control over his own strength.

Y/N had sworn she could hear Harry’s desperate voice call out her name in the distance. But she concludes that she’s gone insane and her mind is tricking her into thinking impossible things. Then she hears a small bit of chitchat coming from outside, and the voice stops. Only after that is the unmistakable pounding of the door to her hotel room.

She opens the door.

A whoosh of coconut scented air slaps Harry in the face. He leans forward, pressing all of his body weight onto her as he practically collapses upright onto her body. She doesn’t want to forgive him, but she isn’t heartless and can clearly smell strong alcohol staining his tongue.

“I’m sorry” He whines into her shoulder. She pushed him forward a bit, struggling to reach out her arms enough to close the door to the hotel room. She eventually succeeds, kicking the door closed with the tip of her feet.

“You smell so fucking good.” His nose is practically pressed into her skin. Y/N grabs at the fluffy white robe he’s dressed in and pushes him off of her. She enjoys the contact but the water dripping from Harry’s hair as a result of his incomplete shower bothers her when it drops onto her face.

“Are you drunk?” she asks him. He grabs her hand, playing with her tiny fingers in amusement, “If I am, will you let me stay?” He bargains. She tucks her bottom lip between her two front teeth, nodding as she grabs his hand and basically drags him onto her large bed.

Five minutes later, his wet hair rests on her chest, right where her own robe opens up to show a bit of skin. She rubs circles onto his chest and he breathes in and out, sobering up just a little bit but still far from sober.

His arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, and she loves how incredibly loved she feels. Harry mutters nonsense into the air, clearly having a mind of his own when he’s drunk. He’s normally very straightforward, so it’s strange to watch him all wrapped up around her, clinging onto her like a child clinging to it’s favorite toy.

“Wait!” He suddenly jumps up off of her. Looking around frantically before grabbing the hotel’s complimentary pen from the bedside table.

“What are you doing?” She asks him, trying to read his letters as he writes a note on his own wrist.

“Shhhhh, you can’t look.” He turns away from her, writing away at his soft skin. He’s sure to avoid the tattoos, afraid the pen won’t be recognizable on the dark ink of his tatted skin.

“I’m giving sober Harry instructions.” He states. After he finishes writing, mumbling a small “Ta da!” as he admires his own work, he returns to how the both of them were before. His hair is dry enough to run her fingers through now, and as she combs her hands through the fluffy strands he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

Leaning over to click the lamp shut, she notices his forearm facing upwards towards the ceiling. The words she sees written sloppily from his wrist to his elbow, make her heart double up in size and warm up beyond belief.

“Get Y/N flowers in the morning. She smells like coconuts and she’s nice. -Drunk Harry”

And she thinks everything will work itself out.

Oh So Important Phone Calls (Part One)

Originally posted by hipsterharrey


(Not Proof-read)

Requested: Yes

I decided to merge two together, I hope you don’t mind! :)

‘An angsty one where she’s the one who’s done something wrong, and Harry’s really pissed off at her about it and ignores her and then they fight, BHT later on he feels really bad for being so mean to her??’

‘Hii, could you do an angst where they get into a fight and harry hurts her ((not on purpose please)) or she gets into an accident later and he feels really guilt??? Thank you :))’

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2.4K


Requests / Feedback

You and Harry had been going through a little hard time lately, you didn’t know exactly where it started but it somehow seemed to have gotten out of control and you didn’t know where the both of you were going. On the other hand, for Harry, it was like nothing, he was able to continue doing what he loved and keep that part of his mind busy so he didn’t have to worry about anything outside of work if he didn’t need to. All you wanted to do was spend time with him ever since he’s been home from your by there was always something keeping him from you, whether it was interview, appearance to some fancy dinner or meeting up with his mates. Though he didn’t think anything of it, every time he turned away an opportunity to go to dinner with or just even spend the evening messing around, ordering a hefty takeaway, chilling on the sofa and a few rounds of sex, something would always come up and he’s be out the door leaving behind a small apology.

You gotten used to it in the last few weeks reminding yourself that it’ll only last for a few days before his attention turns to you, you kept reminding yourself it’ll all be okay once he managed to sort out everything. You didn’t want to be the sort of girlfriend demanding attention, because quite frankly that wasn’t you, if anything, you wanted to be a supportive girlfriend. That didn’t stop you from wondering if within his busy schedule he’ll realise he’s been neglecting you, and finally make some time for you.

It was a Friday evening and both Harry and you were in his LA apartment, each doing your own thing. He had invited you to accompany him while he got his work done, quoting ‘it’ll be nice t’spent some t’gether.’

He was in his office on the phone to someone, who you thought was Jeff, while you were in the kitchen cleaning up the last bits and bobs from the late lunch you both had. You were hoping he wouldn’t get ask to go into the studio as you were hoping to spend the evening together since it had been a while you two got any time together due to his busy schedule, but you knew how important his work was and how quickly plans can change: you’ve had 3 years of experience of that. You tried not to show it but every time he had o cancel on you, you felt a pang of hurt, you know you shouldn’t considering you knew what you got yourself into when you both started dating, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Harry on the other hand didn’t think anything of it, to him, his work was what was distracting him from thinking about anything that didn’t seems important. He didn’t mean to do this, you knew this but it still stung a bit knowing all he cares about lately is his work.

You finished up loading the dishwasher and walked out of the kitchen and into the studio office; reminding yourself to make sure you empty the water in the sink and clean up the rest before settling down with Harry for a movie. You looked around seeing the room you have cleaned in the morning in a tip. Harry’s hoodie was dumped on the comforter in the corner; his boots were sprawled across the office from where you were stood, his duffle looked as though it had been thrown across as some of items of clothing and accessories had fallen out and the cup he brought his coffee in with him after joining you for lunch was placed on the table by the comforter. In the far right corner Harry was sat behind his desk, his phone was lodged between his left shoulder and ear, and his fingers were typing away at the keypad on his Mac.

You walked in, manoeuvring around the mess Harry had created amongst the floor, being careful not to trip over the line of wires he had bundled that connected to various electronic on his desk. “Haaaary” you whined quietly as you gained balances after almost falling over. He didn’t seem fazed at all; his full attention was just to the person on the opposite line on the phone and his Mac. You finally stood in front of him, your arms crossed and a frown on your face.

“Are you going to join me in the lounge?” you question him trying to get his attention and when you didn’t, you huffed and ran your hands through your hair already getting tired of his behaviour. This has been nonstop for the last few days and you don’t know how much longer you can go on if you didn’t do anything. He looks up to you for a second with no emotion or guilt even on his face, and turned his attention back to the Mac. His eyes looked so sunken and dull, he needed to lay off work for a bit and take care of himself but he was always busy, he would think for himself. You had to do something, as least for him.

Without a second thought, you lend over the desk and snatched the phone from between his shoulder and brought it to your ear, you didn’t even think to check who it was first. Harry stood up quickly, pushing the chair back with force making it hit the wall behind him, and he shouted your name out harshly but quietly enough so the person on the other end didn’t hear. He walked around the desk towards you, as you slowing started moving backwards with his phone in your hand. He gestured for you to give his phone back but you weren’t having any of it.

“Listen, I don’t know what you and Harry are exactly talking about” you spoke. You looked at harry for a moment to see him shaking his head, almost as he was warning you. “But this is enough to today; if it’s really important then it’ll just have to wait until Monday!” You ended the phone call immediately after finishing what you had to say and looked up at Harry. He was not impressed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?!” he yelled walking towards until your back hit the wall and he was towering over you. Your heart immediately sank as you looked at him; he’s never looked this angry and annoyed before, he wasn’t one to get angry in the first place. “You absolutely had no right doing that, that was an important phone call and you may have just fucked it up!” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair. He brought his fist up and banged it on the wall beside your head and breathed out harshly, you moved across the wall getting out of his way. He turned around, kicking the bin over in the process as a source of a reliever.

You just stood there still just looking at him as he paced around the room talking and breathing heavily. At one point he stood still, his hands on his hip suggesting he was thinking of a way to sort this out, he just chuckled sarcastically and shook his head. He turned around to you and put his hand out, “G’me the phone” he simply stated looking directly at you with a straight face. Your hand held even tightly onto the phone, bringing your hand down by your side in an effect to hide it. “Just give me the phone” he repeated stepping closer to you. When it finally registered what he was asking for, you gained your posture again and stood up straight and shook your head. “No” you said, gripping the phone tightly in your hand “you’re not getting it back.”

“For God’s sake, stop being so childish! Just. Give. It. To. Me.” he gritted, stepping lose to you but before he was able to enclose you and get to you, you took the opportunity and get away and make your way out of the office with the phone tightly in your grip. You heard him call after you several times as he followed you out of the office. Your heart was thumping as a sense worry washed over you, you weren’t fully aware of what you had just done. Did you just ruin a perfect career opportunity for harry? Did you just ruin the chances of him being able to go further in his acting pathway? You didn’t know and you quite frankly didn’t care right now.

“Step any closer and I swear to God this phone is going into the sink” you stood in from on the sink, the phone in your hand above the sink, your other hand in front of out in an effect to stop him coming close to you.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was silly and quite childish but it got his attention. Harry’s face was stern, his brows were furrowed and lips in a straight line. He was angry but more or so confused with the behaviour you were displaying. You’d never been the one to interrupt him during his work, but instead had encouraged him to go above and beyond because you believed in him and knew he was capable of a lot more than he let on. So when you acted this way, he wasn’t quite sure what you were trying to accomplish.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” He spat, bringing his hand to his hips as he stood about two meters away from you. “Please can I just have it back” he pleaded, shaking his head at you. You remained emotionless, staring at him intensely showing how serious you exactly were. He looked at you and then into the sink seeing the murky water just floating below the stopper.

“You’ve been on this damn thing since we came out here, why on earth would you ask me to come with you if you didn’t want to spend time with me?!” You seethed, feeling yourself on the very end of your tethers. It had been like this ever since you came out here with him, the first few days were fine you didn’t mind him going out with his mates or into the studio because if was work. But one he had managed to finish off one piece of work, he would instantly be called out to go for drinks, and then the process would keep repeating.

“Is that what all of this is about? You were completely fine before now what?! All of a sudden it’s a big problem!” He fired back, adding more fuel to your fire. “I’ve asked you to tag along, but you refused because you’d rather be coped up here!” He yelled waving his arms around. “Now please, just give my phone so I can get back to work” he pleads. You shake your head at him and you two stare at each other until for a while you speak up.

“Well if that’s how you feel” you start, looking at his phone before releasing your grip slowly. “Then we’ll both just stay coped up here” you state and fully let go of the phone and it dropped into the water. Harry didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you as his eyes widened and mouth gasped slightly opened.

“Wha- fuck sake!” he gritted, taking long strides towards you and moved you out of the way by nudging you by the shoulders. You weren’t expecting him to do that but you tripped over your own feet and your hip took a knock on the corner of the kitchen counter. You whimpered as the sudden action sent chills through your body before the pain of the hit came rushing. Harry was too busy trying his best to get his phone out of the water to even realise what he had done.

“You stupid- UGH!” He groaned as he pulled the phone out and throws it roughly onto the counter, one he washed his hand he tended to his phone. You on the other hand were just stood about 2 metres beside him rubbing your hips trying to sooth the pain. “I don’t even know what possessed you to do this, but you better hope to God it work, all my important texts and metric dates are on this”

“You’re so fucking selfish”

You stood back just listening to him rant on, keeping you composure so he didn’t notice you whimpering as he threw harsh words at you. Instead of saying anything you just looked at him as his back was turned to you. He was doing all sorts of thing to the phone to get it to work, he was rummaging through the kitchen drawers to find sensible tools to help him, and there was a pile of tissues next to him as you were sure he used the last bit to dry the phone.

What he did next took you by surprise; you jumped as he took the phone and throw it across the kitchen floor out of frustration, breaking into large pieces and small glass fragments smashed from the screen. A lump in your throat brought on all sorts of emotion; you felt small, weak and scared. This wasn’t the best way to get his attention, you knew that now but it was too late. He was obviously stressed out about his work from before and now you just added feud to the fire. You knew how important it was for him to finish things up in LA with Jeff and the team before he could go back to the UK and take some time off, and now you just had to go and ruin it all.

“H-Harry, I’m so-“

“Shut it, you’ve done enough as it is”.

You stood still taking in what had just happened, everything thing just happened out of nowhere, and in the spur of the moment, you probably just found yourself in a very compromising situation with Harry. After a few moment of standing around with his hands running through his hair, he exhaled loudly and walked out of the kitchen, kicking the phone harshly away from him with his feet.

He came pass the kitchen with his jacket in his hands and his car keys jingling in his hands, your head shot up from the sound and your limped towards him in a hurried manner trying to catch up.

“Where are you going?” You asked as you leant on wall as you got into the hallway, he didn’t answer you; instead he ignored you and just put his shoes on eager to get out. “Talk to me please” you pleaded, reaching out to touch him, he instantly pulled away and glared at you.

“You better be gone by the time I get back”

Part Two

Feedback is always appreciated, loves! :)


Originally posted by pinkharold

This is so angsty, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to whoever requested. Keep spreading the love. xx - L

You overhear Harry talking badly about you at a party.

Warnings: angsty, light smut

Word Count: 1,728

Keep reading

harry’s moods @ every request for the studio version of medicine,, ever

Harry is a Bossy Lawyer, and Y/N is his intern


Word Count: 8K

Smut, angst and fluff.

Hope this is everything you wanted and more


Harry Styles was an extremely professional man.

He was the type of man who just looked like money. If he entered a room, you would feel his presence. You would smell the expensive Tom Ford radiating off of him, look at the intricate suit he wore that was no doubt made specifically for him, and you would get out of his way. He would then proceed to command the attention of everyone in the room, without even muttering a word or giving a single smile.

He had reportedly been this way since he first moved to New York, as well. His old college classmates stated that he never spoke in class but aced every exam. He’d never lost a case, always managed to turn in everything on time, and despite his quiet nature, every single law professor would nearly get on their knees to get him to join their own firms .

It was no surprise to anyone, then, when Harry Styles made the decision to start his own firm. Instead of working for anyone else, he simply chose to be his own boss. Every year he picked out a little less than a handful of interns from a high pile of applicants - specifically 2. They were mainly to do his dirty work, to snoop around and boringly comb through files for hours so he wouldn’t have to, but regardless it was a golden seal on any law student’s resume so every star student applied.

This year, he accepted 2 additional interns on top of the two he had from the previous year.

An aspiring lawyer from somewhere across the seas in Europe named Liam, and some girl from a small town who moved to New York to pursue her dreams, Y/N.

Mr. Styles was easily irritated. Well, it wasn’t visible irritation as much as it was just complete silence. Every morning Y/N had the chore of giving him his coffee, and since no one at the office had the hint to invest in sugar packets, she was always forced to attempt to measure out how much “4 Packets of sugar” was in large spoonfuls.

Sometimes, he’d take a sip and shrug with a small lift in his eyebrows before turning around and burrowing himself inside of his office again. And others, he would take a sip and stay silent for a moment before handing it back to her, a gesture to which Y/N would promptly turn around in embarrassment and remake his coffee until he approved.

Today, however, was different.

The entire office environment was tense, getting even tenser by the moment as rustling papers and groans filled the room. Usually mornings were full of small talks between Y/N and Liam, and the nice boy who was interning from the year before named Michael. The girl, Rachel, who had also been interning for Styles & Associates always showed disdain towards Y/N, making snarky remarks about how incorrect she was (even when she was, in fact, correct).

“Why is it so tense in here?” she tries to whisper to Liam. But because no one else was speaking and nothing was playing in the background on the TV like it usually was, the other two interns glance at her before staring back at their files.

“You seriously didn’t hear?” Liam whispers back to her. He places the tip of his thumb in a yellow manilla folder to keep his place, turning to face her. Y/N hears a scoff coming from Rachel, she promptly ignores the sound and keeps her gaze locked on Liam’s expectantly.

“That one CEO, Jared Laughlin - he owns that huge department store in the upper east side with the same models in the window every month - he’s convicted of first degree murder.” Liam tells her. Her eyes widen, jaw suddenly halting from chewing her bubble gum.

She knew the store, the one where every rich person would walk in and out with multiple shopping bags. Her and Liam would often make fun of the ugly flowers glued onto the thousand dollar dresses in the display when they were picking up Mr. Styles’ sushi from an expensive buffet. She’d never expected to first-handedly be this close to the owner of the damn place.

“Holy shit.” Y/N says a little too loudly. Rachel loudly mutters a “Shhhh!”, her finger plucked over her lip as her spit flies onto the papers in front of her.

“Sorry, damn” Y/N jokingly raises her hands as if surrendering. Michaels stifles a laugh as he combs through more files.

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Y/N grabs a large box, identical to the ones situated in front of the other interns, and begins reading through each little paper in each manilla folder.

“We’re defending him, is what’s so damn hard. And well, the person who was murdered was his wife. She was 30 years younger than him, and rumored to be having an affair with another man.”

“Shit.” Y/N cuts him off, surprised at how unrealistic it sounds. It’s like something straight out of a lifetime movie, or some crazy crime show where everyone is secretly related or something.

“Shit, indeed.” Liam replies, pausing as he tries to multitask and thinks back to what her original question was, “Oh yeah, we’re looking through his marriage records and his wife’s files to find anyone with considerable cause.”

She nods after that, beginning to comb through her own set of files just like everyone else was. In the corner of the room was a box of her belongings, just books and things that she left behind, and she gets the odd feeling that she may want to look through them later.

“Hey Li, have you looked through those yet?” She points to the clear plastic box, it’s lid nowhere to be found because it probably couldn’t fit over the jagged edges of the objects.

“Yeah, we searched through them but they’re mostly just junk. Some copy of a poetry book and some makeup, rich person shit you know?”

With skepticism and the need to look through the box herself, she just accepts his answer and gets to work.


It’s currently 12 AM. Every other intern tapped out hours ago, Michael leaving at 5 PM sharp to be with his girlfriend, Liam leaving two hours after that because he forgot he needed to feed his poor fish that ‘Just wouldn’t die’, and Rachel staying until ten without actually doing much except for pretending to look at things just to prove that she was a harder worker than Y/N.

Eventually, she taps out, and Y/N is alone in the spacy and messy office, the only other person in the establishment being Mr. Styles, who hasn’t left his room since the morning. She wonders if he always stays this late, because honestly Y/N had never seen him leave before. Her and her fellow interns were always quick to leave.

Y/N had a good reason for her aggressive working though, she’d looked through Mrs. Laughlin’s belongings, and whilst flipping through a page of her book, had stumbled across a page with indents from writing. She assumed that someone had written something on a separate piece of paper while using the book as a hard surface, resulting in curves in the soft thin pages of the book.

She took out a pencil, a piece of paper, and lightly traced the curves to find a sweet note and a name written below it, stating,

“As always, thinking of you my lovely Vivian.


Marvin Johnson”

Y/N hadn’t wasted a minute, hopping onto her computer to look up different Marvin Johnson’s in the New York area. She finds a variety of men - and one woman - one of them being a 43 year old telemarketer who’s 5’2 and calls himself ‘MJ like Michael’, a few being college students, one who had an obituary from his death ten years prior, and finally one that she assumes is most likely the one who is responsible for the letter.

He’s an Exotic dancer at a male strip club in the richer districts of the upper east side. From a brief look at his instagram, she can make out a quote he posted in one of his captions as being a quote directly from the book sitting next to her on the desk. But just as she’s about to determine probable cause, the door next to her creaks open.

She’s never really seen him like this before. His dress shirt is crumpled, suit jacket resting in his hand instead of adorning his body. His hair, instead of stiffly gelled up, is now fluffy and bouncy everywhere and his cheeks are flushed from being so tired.

“Y/N?” his eyes widen. He clearly wasn’t expecting his intern, his junior intern at that, to be typing away at her laptop at midnight as he finally gave himself a break.

“Uh, Mr. Styles” She quickly hops up out of her chair, hoping he didn’t see her slouched position. They both try to fixed their professionality, running fingers through their hair to fix up their appearances.

“Sorry i’m here.” She blurts out, and immediately wants to slap herself because of how stupid she sounds but is too late to stop herself, “I just…well, I found a lead and-”

He cuts her off, eyes bulging out of his head as he snaps out of his tired state. And for the first time since she’s ever met him, she sees a small smile forming onto his face.

It starts with his eyes, a little crinkle forming on the outer edges. His puffy pink lips point towards the ceiling more and more, little pools of darkness showing up in his dimpled cheeks. She sees a crack of white from where his teeth show.

Harry’s close to jumping up and squishing her into a bear hug at this point. He’d spent the entire day waiting for an intern to knock at his door and tell him that they’d got a lead, or waiting to stumble upon one himself if it were possible. After tugging at his hair and groaning for hours straight (and sneaking out the cognac beneath his desk for a little sip even though no one needs to know that), he’d finally become tired enough to retire to go home. He always did have a problem with falling asleep, so locking up alone and leaving wasn’t uncommon for him.

“What’s the lead?” He eagerly asks her, Y/N looks around her desk, papers strewn all across it before pulling out the book and the slip of paper she’d shaded to read the preexisting message.

“I saw this little indent of handwriting in one of Mrs. Laughlin’s books. I traced it to find a name, and after looking it up I zeroed in on a Marvin Johnson, who works as a high class dancer and lives on 4th.”

She switches through the tabs, showing him all of the evidence she has stacked up against him.

“But, wasn’t the guy she was cheating with someone else? I was told he was a rival CEO.” Harry points out in confusion.

“Exactly, that leads to probable cause. She has two affairs, one of the men find out about the other, they get mad, and one of them kills her in aggression. Meanwhile Jared has no idea, and-”

He cuts her off, finishing her thought, “He’s blamed for the murder of his wife.”

Y/N raises her hand, stretching to yawn as she’s extremely tired and she wants to drown herself into a nice rose-scented bath at home. She’s half awake, and she uses that fact as an excuse for oggling his tattoos she can see through his dress shirt for a little too long.

But Harry seems to get the wrong hint, and when she stretches her hand up he promptly reaches out and slaps it playfully. She stares at him in confusion for a moment before realizing he’s just falsely high fived her.

Harry automatically widens his eyes too. And no matter how fucking blessed he thinks he is to have her at the moment, he has to snap back into the real world and acknowledge that he is her boss, and that that was extremely unprofessional.

She just looked so soft, he thinks, with little prints from her glasses pressing into the spine of her nose, and her cushy full lips pushing her minty breath towards him every time she speaks. He just can’t believe the fact that someone so cute, and so intelligent and so amazing somehow landed in the same office as him due to her mutual interest for law.

“I’m s’-” He sighs, “I’m really sorry, Y/N. That was very unprofessional. It’s s’just been a really long day and m’very tired and you just- you just saved my ass right now and-”

She cuts his flustered confession off with a giggle.

“It’s okay. Mr. Styles. I want to ask though, do you stay here this late every night?” Her eyebrows furrow a little as she awaits his response, and he has to restrain himself from reaching out and flattening the adorable crease forming between her eye’s as he clears his throat.

“Yeah, I don’t really - I’m not the best at falling asleep.”

Y/N purses her lips in thought, a small smirk playing at her lips as she nods. They both agree to go home for the night, given how incredibly late it is, before continuing the investigation the next day based off of the lead she’s discovered.

And when Y/N finally packs her purse into the passenger’s seat, popping her back after she closes the door ad yawning once again, she pulls the driver’s door open and hops inside of her small car. And from the corner of her eye she swears she sees a certain curly haired, green eyed man, leaning on his grey Audi, staring from afar to make sure she gets inside of her car safely.


The next morning, Harry is less tired than he normally is. Although he ends up going to bed an hour later than he usually does and awakens at the same time to the annoying sound of his phone alarm, he feels strangely giddy at going to his office. He convinces himself that it’s because he’s going to win his face. But he’s always won his cases and he’s never felt this amazing at just a lead.

He brushes the feeling aside.

When Y/N knocks on the think oak door of Harry’s office, she stands with his coffee in one hand and a small gift in the other. He opens the door, a small grin playing on the ends of his lips.

“Well if it isn’t my star lawyer.” He states, feeding her ego a little too much. She hears Rachel scoffing from the other side of the room, but Harry dismisses it as she hands him his coffee.

“Mr. Styles, I know you told me that you have trouble sleeping, so I got you these chocolates with melatonin. They’re really good and they help you sleep and it’s really not much but I mean you’ve done so much for me so I just figured you’d like them” She finishes her ramble and he doesn’t reply, and she suddenly becomes really nervous and insecure about her gift. He was a multi millionaire lawyer who drove a sports car worth more than the home she grew up in, some crappy chocolates to knock him out weren’t going to change that.

“I-I’m really sorry if it’s inappropriate, I just thought-”

“No, no really, love, it’s fine. Been looking for a way to help me sleep.”

Her cheeks heat up at the nicknames he throws on her. She hands him his coffee without another word, and instead of tasting it to critique, he simply smiles and closes the door behind him when he walks back into his office.

Harry’s heart warms up when their fingers touch as she passes the box of chocolates over to him. He watches her nervously fiddle with the hem of her skirt, and he takes her coffee before closing the heavy door and sitting down on his organized desk. He sips a taste of the coffee, and it tastes just right, but maybe even better because of the girl who served it to him.


The next few days, Y/N and Harry are more public with their new and unusual friendship.

It starts when Y/N’s car won’t start up, so she calls Liam who has to pick up some extra pet food before going to work because the store won’t be open at the time work ends. She then calls her best friend, only to realize that she’s gone to the other side of the US to meet her boyfriend’s parents. So then she calls Harry, who rolls up to her tiny apartment building in Brooklyn in sunglasses and driving gloves (He says they aid with driving safety).

Then, it’s little things. How she says that his office looks so neat that it’s unhomely, in a playful way, so he stops by the late night street mall with her before he drops her off at her house - because her car wasn’t fixed yet - to help him decide what objects could possibly make his office more homely.

It’s him ordering her an extra box of lo mein from the Thai food place down the street from their office when they’re working late at night just to see if she’d want some too, it’s leaving his office door open from now on so that he can look at her when he’s feeling a bit down, and it’s checking his appearance in the mirror of his sports car before walking into the office to see if he looks alright.

Y/N isn’t expecting to be confronted with ludicrous accusations today.

But the second she walks into the doors of Styles and Associates, she hears four words that make her freeze, and her blood boil.

“Bet she’s fucking him.” It’s Rachel.

Who is she kidding, of course it’s Rachel. Liam wouldn’t say that, Michael would never, and Harry doesn’t speak to the other interns about gossip.

“Rachel…” Liam trails off.

“No. How else do you think that she’s getting all these offers. He offered to give her a raise, even told her he’d write her letters of recommendation in advance just because. They’re more than just coworkers and you know it!” She bangs the wooden table. Harry’s door is shut, strangely enough, and Y/N clears her throat.

Rachel turns around, and instead of looking apologetic or embarrassed, she stares at Y/N with a devious look on her face.

Y/N shrugs it off, heading to the small coffee maker in the other room to make Mr. Styles’ coffee for him. She pulls out four packets of sugar, ones she stole from the Mcdonalds across the street from her complex, out of her pocket. She empties them into the dark brown liquid, smiling as she swirls the small black coffee straw around his coffee and blends the two flavors together.

She knocks on the door to his office. She looks around the workspace, Liam and Michael typing away on their computers, but she doesn’t see Rachel.

The door opens a moment later. Rachel stands in front of the door, Harry directly behind her with a stern look on his face. Rachel stomps past her and she reluctantly hands the coffee to him, careful not to disturb his already foul mood.

“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Styles” She tells him. While she would usually just enter into his open-doored office, set his coffee down, and walk away, she felt as if the past few weeks hadn’t even occurred. She felt like the same intern who was deathly intimidated by him, and disappointedly felt like they had taken ten steps in the opposite direction they were going in.

He takes it from her hands, gripping it tightly. He nearly yanks it from her and she stumbles a bit as the brown liquid almost tips over the rim of the cup and spills out.

Bringing it up to his lips, he takes a microscopic sip of the coffee, and Y/N really, really doesn’t expect what he’s about to do next.

He throws the mug to the ground, it shatters into little glass pieces and some of the hot liquid sloshes onto the carpets beneath them. Y/N lets out a little whimper at the hostile action, flinching completely in surprise. Liam and Michael’s stares burn into Y/N’s back, she widens her eyes as she looks up at her boss.

His green eyes are blazing into her own, a vein sticking out of his neck as he heats up with anger more and more by the second.

“I- Mr. Styles-”

“It tastes bloody horrible. God Y/N, you’re working for a fucking PhD and you can’t even brew a coffee correctly?” He pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes closing in anger as Y/N stares at him with owl like eyes, glazing over more and more by the second.

And she really didn’t know what she’d done. He had had bad days before,but none were every like this. And worst of all was that she even considered him a good friend at this point, and now she was back to being reminded he was a genus high and mighty lawyer, and she was merely an intern trying to make it to half of where he was.

“This, just, clean this up.” He points to the puddle of coffee and shattered glass on the ground, turning around and throwing the door behind him to slam shut on his own. Y/N swears she’s never felt lower as she sinks to her knees and picks up the shards of glass into her hands carefully. She sniffles, wiping away a few stray tears every once in a while.

Her parents had always told her that law wasn’t a good job choice. She’d continuously objected, telling them that it was her life and she believed in herself enough to be successful. Y/N never thought sleepless nights of study would lead up to this, to her on her hands and knees being laughed at by her female coworker as she sweeps up crushed glass from a dirty carpet.

Soon, though, she sees a brown towel lay on top of the coffee in front of her. Liam’s large hands reach out to help her in cleaning the carpet faster. He smiles at her reassuringly, but she ducks her puffy eyes, not wanting to stare at him any longer.

After they’re finished cleaning up the mess, Y/N rushes to grab her purse, stuffing her journals and binders into it before she has the time to fully break down.

“Y/N?” Liam mutters just as he sits down, hands still placed on the arms of his chairs as he pulls himself closer to the table, “Where are you going?” He asks her.

“Home.” She simply croaks out, not wanting to look at him - or anyone for that matter.

“Hey, I know that was a proper dick move on Styles’ part but if you leave right now he might just take his anger out on you more the next time he sees you.” Liam tells her honestly. No one had ever left early for no good reason before, and while Y/N knows he’s right, she feels so hurt that she’s willing to take that chance.

So she walks out of the office building and drives home in her own car.


Harry walks out of his office, he needs the overview of Mrs. Laughlin’s inheritance, but when he walks out he realizes that Y/N isn’t there.

He checks his expensive watch, seeing that it’s merely 2 PM and she had no reason not to be there. Then he assumes she’s in the restroom, but the door to it is wide open and there’s still no trace of her.

“Where’s Y/N” he mutters sternly to everyone in the office. Michael looks horrified, Rachel just sips her coffee, and Liam looks irritated as he replies.

“Left hours ago, Mr. Styles.” Liam tells him honestly, “Right after she cleaned up the coffee you threw. Didn’t look too well.” And everyone is back to sifting through files and typing away. But Harry can’t help but feel a little tight knot in his tummy.

Of fucking course she would leave, he’d practically treated her like property. Throwing her perfectly fine coffee onto the floor and then making her clean it.

He was just so, so angry. Because Rachel had told him right before he threw his coffee that Y/N had been bragging around the office, talking about how she was close to having Harry smitten for the benefit of her own career. How she would soon be successful and rich by using Harry as leverage.

And he assumes it’s true, because well - he’d been used so many times before. Like when he was in college and the girl he’d liked for so long had only agreed to go out with him so that he’d help her with the criminology homework they were assigned. Like when he’d taken a supermodel out for a drink, only to realize her real husband was imprisoned on drug charges and she needed help more than anything else. But he shouldn’t have even thought of imagining Y/N would actually say something like that, not after she turned down his raise and rejected his offers because it wasn’t fair to the other interns.

And Harry feels like he’s going to puke, because this girl that he’d been admiring from afar had finally enjoyed his company enough to spend time with him and feel comfortable with him. He may have just ruined weeks of progress for some ridiculous assumption.

Y/N was easily the most hardworking intern at the firm, they really can’t bear to lose her knowledge in this case. Harry knows exactly what he has to do.


“I’m bear-y sorry” Y/N stands with puffy eyes, in a large men’s t-shirt from the sales section at some fast fashion store, with her forearm resting with all of her weight onto the doorframe of her apartment. She’s just made a batch of cookies, brownies, and a cherry pie (She’s a stress baker) and she’s not expecting for him to be there.

Harry’s holding a stuffed bear as large as he is, one he remembers that she pointed at when they passed by a street game at the small mall they went to. She told him about how she’d never been able to win a large stuffed animal when she was younger, and how she’d always wanted one someday.

She doesn’t expect for him to bring it to her apartment though, especially after what he said the last time they talked.

With a sad frown on her face, and droopy cheeks, she moves to swing the door shut to pretend like she didn’t see him there. She wants to pretend like he never came by, and like he’s just her boss and nothing more, no feelings attached.

He’s quick to shove the door back to where it was.

“Y/N” He sighs, lips frowning and posture slouched, “I’m sorry.”

And she’s a bit surprised, because Harry Styles isn’t the type of man to say he’s sorry. He’s the type of man to never smile, never apologize, and never bring large stuffed bears to his intern’s apartment. But it looks like he’s broken all three assumptions made about himself.

“I shouldn’t have done that to you, or said that to you.”

At these words, she’s taken back to the incident that occured, and she’s automatically afraid of him again.

Sniffling, a few tears fog up her eyes. She feels a salty taste in her mouth, and Harry reads her expression. He looks extremely worried as he reaches out and pets his thumb against her cheek, preparing to swipe away any salty liquid that comes out.

“Please don’t cry, pet.” Normally her heart would’ve welled up in adoration of the pet name, but tonight she can’t help but cry instead. Her tears soak the expensive and stupidly soft material on his chest, and she’s overwhelmed by how good he smells, even when she’s sobbing.

“G’na make me sad. I can’t believe I made you feel like this.”

He rubs her back soothingly, rings running across her spine and leaving goosebumps on her arms. He’s not sure of how to hold girls when they cry, or how to hold girls at all. Harry had only ever had strings of one night stands, he’d never been attracted to a girl and then not slept with her before. Then again, he’d never met girls with interesting stories about how they’d had unfulfilled their wishes of winning large stuffed bears.

She sniffles a bit before detaching her messy face from his shirt and staring up at him, glossy bambi eyes looking at him pleadingly.

“Thank you for the bear.” She grabs it by it’s large stuffed paw, dragging it into her apartment. Harry takes that as his cue to come in, following behind her desperately before she changes her mind. He’s not used to it, following girls around and feeling sorry for them and rubbing their backs while they cry into his chest.

Her apartment is far smaller than his, looking homely though because it smells like freshly baked desserts and there are books and blankets scattered over the old but homely furniture. He feels the strange new feeling that he’s the one who needs to pay her back, for just being such a nice and genuine person.

But Harry figures that new experiences are always alright, and gratefully accepts a brownie on a small glass plate that Y/N hands to him with a cup of milk.


“Are you ready for the trial?”

Harry nervously pops his fingers, pulling on them one by one as they individually crunch. He doesn’t normally get nervous, but this client could potentially open his career up to various new demographics of rich people. In other words, he’d be making even more money than he currently did.

Y/N stands in front of him, straightening out his tie one last time while staring up at him. He grins down at her, and they hold eye contact for a few moments, the colors of their eyes seemingly mixing the more they stare.

“I’m always ready, love.” Y/N doesn’t know whether to scoff at him and give him a hard time over his cocky nature, or blush at the nickname he’s permanently deemed upon her. She lets go of his tie, slowly dragging her hand down his torso before patting the sides of his jacket.

“I’m so excited to see such a big trial in person. How exhilarating.” She stares in awe at the number of people in the courtroom, and notably how expensive they all look. She knows Harry will command all of the attention once he goes out to the room, but for now she lets her eyes scan over all of the intricate patterns on everyone’s clothing.

“It’s not as exhilarating when you realize most of them are judging you, that’s why you have to be charismatic. To be appealing to the jury.” He tells her. She makes a mental note of his free advice, snarkily replying with an, “I guess you’ll need tons of good luck then.”

The hallways are clear of any people as most have filed into the courtroom, and they stand speaking to each other alone. He laughs at her sassy remark.

“Luck doesn’t win cases, pet, knowledge does.”

Everything he says seems to be some sort of lecture. It makes Y/N want to punch him in the face for being so obnoxiously knowledgeable, laugh because of how serious he always is, and jump his bones all at the same time.

“That sucks, Mr. Styles.” She pulls the sides of his blazer together, “I was going to give you something for good luck.” Harry doesn’t think much of it, holding his hand out to see what exactly she puts in it. He’d well rested the night before thanks to her weird insomnia curing chocolates, and if the rest of her gifts are as useful as the last, he doesn’t mind taking them.

Instead of placing something in his hands as he stands smiling, dimples lightly shallowing into his cushy cheeks, with his eyes teasingly closed in expectance, she leans up onto her tippy toes in her heels, and softly molds her mouth against him. There’s light stubble on his upper lip, and he opens his eyes in surprise. His mind is racked, but his body seems to respond to kissing her back. When she lightly pulls his lower lip into her mouth to suck on it, he closes his eyes and enjoys their heated moment a bit longer.

She’s the first to pull away, just as she was the first to initiate. She spins him around while his cheeks are still pink and his lips are still swollen, lightly shoving him towards the courtroom. She leans up onto her toes again, resting her forehead against his shoulder and saying, “Good luck, Mr. Styles.”


“Winning the biggest case of the year, not bad.”

They’re all in the office now. Well, all of them except for Rachel. She didn’t really do much ever since the incident that occured. Harry had told her she was walking on thin ice, so she never really stayed longer than she needed to in hopes of not breaking it.

Now they have paper cups they borrowed from the water machine, Harry’s expensive cognac in each of their hands as they make a toast to the  success following the trial. Not only had Mr. Laughlin been proven innocent, he also had the opportunity to receive extra money for defamation and received full property rights to all of his wife’s belongings.

And for a few hours, that’s all they do. They sit, and they laugh, and they talk about all of the hard work that contributed to the ultimate ruling and how incredibly worth it, it all was. Well - it’s mostly the three interns, Harry’s admiring something other than the case he’s won. Specifically the girl standing beside him.

Michael taps out first so that his girlfriend won’t go to sleep alone in their shared apartment, Liam leaves to mourn his fish that passed away because he was feeding it the wrong food, and Harry and Y/N are left behind.

They’re in Harry’s office, lighting one of the nice smelling candles they bought to make his office more homely. Y/N sits on his desk, something he wouldn’t have ever expected himself to let a girl do. But a month seems to work wonders, because he does nothing but smile while staring at Y/N’s dangling legs and cheery smile.

She sighs.

“I think my favorite thing this year was when you showed at my door with a teddy bear.” Giggling, she pushes back more onto the desk. Her skirt hikes up a bit, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it.

“I think my favorite thing was hiring you.” He tells her. He’s awfully affectionate, rubbing the skin on her leg as his hand lays gently on her knee.

“I like that too.” She smiles, leaning into him so that their faces are closer together, ”You’re amazing. You’ve taught me everything I needed to know.”

His other hand grips the side of his face, his eyes flickering down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. He rests his thumb right between her cupid’s bow and the edge of her bottom lip, his own lips parting a little to reply.

“I think there are a few more things I could teach you.”

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s because she’s over ecstatic from them winning the case she’s been working on so hard, or because she just wants him so badly, but she finds herself sliding her tongue out between her full lips, lightly grazing the damp tip over where Harry’s thumb lies on her bottom lip, before moving her lips to lightly engulf the tip of his thumb.

She sucks at his finger, a very simple gesture, but one that makes Harry’s cock twitch inside of his briefs. His lips part as he watches hers around his finger and he shudders a bit.

The hand on her knee hikes up quickly, sliding up her thin skirt. He eyes her lace underwear, wetness seeping out between the small gaps of the lace.

“Oh, Pet.” He lightly grazes her fingertips against her thin underwear as she lets out a shattered breath, “How long have you been this wet?”

It’s more of a genuine question than a teasing one. His fingers are more pressured now, pressing up and down the slick material of her underwear as she softly mewls with his finger still in her mouth. He feels the vibrations on his digit, cock spurting out some precum as it dampens his boxers further.

“Use your words” He scolds her. She forces out words, wanting him to continue what he’s started, “M’always wet for you, Mr. Styles.”

He uses his fingers to push her underwear aside, and one handedly presses his slender finger straight into her dripping core. She’s so warm, and soft, and he wonders what part of hr isn’t soft as he takes in how heavenly she feels.

“Feel’s so good pet.” His fingers curve up and down inside of her, urging her further into the long groan she lets out.

“Can’t wait to be inside you.” Y/N whimpers at his words, taking his thumb out of her mouth with a pop before lowering his other hand between her thighs as well. She presses the damp thumb that was once in her mouth right onto her clit, moving his large hand with her own.

“Mmmm darling, you can’t tell me to do things.” And he tears his hand away from her clit, moving it to start buttoning the button down shirt she has on top. He can see the outline of her black lace bra underneath the cheap material, and his cock presses even further against the uncomfortable metal of her zipper.

She begins to slip her own hand down to her clit. But just as Harry sees her slyly worming her fingers down to where she needs them most, he growls a low “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/N frowns in her sensitive state, she didn’t want to be scolded but she just couldn’t help herself. She wants to cry at how badly she wants to cum, how badly she wants him to just get on with it.

His fingers pump in and out just as he removes her blouse. She lets out a small cry, furrowing her eyebrows as she sighs and leans her head back afterwards. She sees the painful bump in his dress pants, and takes in just how large it is. Her mouth waters and she reaches out with both hands to grab the buckle of his belt, pulling him closer while he continues to pleasure her.

He twists his fingers, swirling a feeling in her lower abdomen that makes her slick even more around him. She can tell she’s dripping around his fingers, and although she knows she’ll be embarrassed when this is all over, Harry seems completely fucked at the moment.

His dress shirt’s sleeves are rolled up to where his forearm meets his upper arm, tattoos she didn’t even know he had peeking out of the small gap. She sees milky fluid oozing down his arm, close to staining his blue dress shirt.

“Mr. Styles, no.” she cries out, eyes glued to where she’s about to ruin his clothes with her messiness. She wants to tell him to stop but it feels so fucking good, so she meets is eyes and then stares down at where she’s dripping, trying to tell him without words as she’s consumed in her own pleasure.

“S’alright darling, s’just a shirt. I can buy tons, just trying to make you feel good.” And after his sweet words she rests her head forward so that her forehead is just below his collarbone.

“Mr. Styles!” She cries once more before she’s coming. And her head is in the clouds as she twitches, his arm pulsing and his veins popping out beautifully when he continues to pump in and out of her slowly.

She doesn’t give herself time to recover, though, because she immediately remembers how hard he is. She grabs the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly before sliding it out and throwing it aside in one fast motion.

His suit pants fall the second she unbuttons the expensive buttons, hands immediately reaching out to clutch the bulge in his pants. Harry hisses, her cool hands feeling around his burning length just to take him in for a bit.

Her eyes widen when she moves her hand up more and more, still not feeling where he ends. She lets out a genuine gasp, breathing heavily before telling him, “You’re so big, Mr’ Styles.” To which his cock involuntarily twitches and she smiles.

“What do you want?” She asks him teasingly slowly sliding his tight briefs down his hips.

“Mr. Styles, i’m your intern. You’re supposed.” He pulls her into him, her bra clad breasts pressing up to his dress shirt. She gasps, her mouth suddenly right next to his red tipped ears, “To tell me what to do.” She finishes. He groans at the thought of telling her everything he wants to do, but he figures he’ll save some of it for another time.

Her tiny hand slides down more, and he finally springs up, the tip of him already leaking with fluid. Y/N moves her fingers between her thighs, slicking some of her own wetness onto her fingers before grasping Harry’s cock. She quickly begins to jerk up and down, staring as he parts his lips and moans in a raspy tone.

“Need to be inside of you, love” He tells her. She quickly changes her angle from rubbing him up and down, to pointing him towards her entrance. She can’t wait to feel him - all of him - inside of her.

It had been a year since Y/N had last had sex. She hadn’t had time since her ex boyfriend, so she knew she’d be extremely tight around him, especially when he was that thick.

She pushes the soft tip into herself, holding the rest of him from entering her with her tight fingers. Harry involuntarily juts his hips forward, trying to feel more of her tight around him before she stops him.

“I haven’t done this in a while, Mr. Styles.” And for a moment in this time of lust, his heart softens a bit at her shy confession. He allows her to adjust to just his tip, moving to unclip her bra and then slide it off of her.

He leans forwards, sucking at her nipples while waiting for her to take more of him in. He’s enjoying palming and squeezing at her breasts, so he doesn’t expect it when Y/N all of a sudden takes all of him in at once, pulling him into her.

He leans forward involuntarily, and they press their forwards together, lips smacking for a split second, before she lays back onto his desk. Her skirt is still bunched around her upper thighs, legs thrown up farther so that he can hold onto the when he fucks into her.

“Shit, you like that?” He asks when Y/N purrs softly against the wood on the desk, with her head tilted to the side. She nods violently, opening and closing her mouth to speak.

Harry’s pressing into her harder and harder now, one hand gripping her breast and toying with it while the other one rests against.

“Mr-, you feel so good” She tells him honestly. She can feel herself so tightly around him, can feel every little vein in his cock pulsing inside of her as he draws her into her high. Everytime he draws back and pushes back in she fills up all over again, moaning when she hears him slap against her skin.

Harry begins to rub his thumb against her clit, right above where he’s pressing in and out of her quickly. She lets out a loud moan, tightening around him at the new sensation.

“Been waiting for this for so fucking long, pet.” He tells her honestly. His hands begin to shake, thrusts becoming a little less rhythmic and more uncoordinated. She can tell he’s close to cumming, so she rubs herself against his thumb a little more as she prepares to feel full with him.

“Fuck, are you - are you close?” he moans out, looking down at her desperately. He looks so different like this, with his bossy persona out of the way, pleadingly asking her to come so that he can as well.

Y/N nods, not being able to make out any words as she focuses on the feeling. She’s so close to falling over the edge when he begins rubbing his thumb faster against her clit.

“C’mon” He mutters to her, with more frustration at himself than her.

She shakily grabs the forearm thats flexing as he rubs against her rapidly, “Mr. Styles.” He groans at the name she calls him, he’d always wondered what it would feel like falling out of her lips while he was fucking her senselessly. And now that he got to hear it in person, it was a bit too much for him. Without another word, he groans loudly and tips over the edge.

Y/N moans when she feels him fill her up with his hot cum, thumb still half-heartedly rubbing at her. It’s just moments after he finishes that she follows right after, cummig around his pulsing cock as he grips one hand onto the desk for support.

“Holy shit” He moans in awe, cock twitching one more time inside of her when he sees what a mess they’d both made. Harry liked order, but ever since he’d met Y/N he wasn’t even sure what he liked anymore.

He presses his fingers underneath his member, waiting to catch the mixture of both his cum and hers that falls out when he pulls out of her slowly. When it drips out onto his fingers while he removes his softening member from inside of her, he brings them up to his chest, looking around for a tissue or a towel.

Y/N is sitting up at this point, hair a proper mess from its usual neat state and legs still parted. She knows her thighs will be sore in the morning, and thanks her lucky stars she doesn’t have work the next day.

Without hesitation, she grabs Harry’s wrist to the hand where his fingers look messy from the both of them, bringing it up to her lips to take into her mouth. He groans at the gesture, becoming hard again after cumming so intensely just moments before. He doesn’t hesitate, connecting his lips with hers as he leans in after she gulps down. It’s the naughtiest yet hottest thing he’s ever seen any girl do, and even more because it comes from sweet little Y/N.

The next few minutes they dress up, neither of them speaking but both of them wanting to stay near each other. Y/N was shy and embarrassed after what just occurred, and Harry wasn’t one to ask people to stay at his place after sex just because he enjoyed their company.

But he also wasn’t one to have sex with his interns on his office desk, or become smitten with tiny stress bakers and get them teddy bears, so he figures firsts are good this time around.

He grabs her hand just as she finishes buttoning the last button on her crumpled shirt, pulling it into his chest. She stares up at him with wide eyes.

“Come, home with me. V’been missing your brownies.” He mutters shyly, becuse he’s never really done anything like this before.

And he just looks so soft and fucked out, and Y/N can’t wait to make him watch Pretty Woman with her as they munch on desserts (He’d never seen it because he wasn’t a big movie enthusiast) so she nods and grabs his hand, slotting his fingers through hers as they smile at each other like they’re doing it for the first time.

Oh So Important Phone Calls (Part two)

Originally posted by stylesinthewild


Thank you so much for the response on Part One, it got over 1000 notes and I’m still in awe! Didn’t expect it to get such an amazing response x

So many of you requested part two so here it is x

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2.7K


Requests / Feedback

You can read Part One: Here


Honestly, Harry had no idea what was going on, his mind was racing wild with thoughts of the previous events that had gone on earlier during the evening. He couldn’t concentrate on anything that was being said in the large studio room he had made his home for the last few hours.

His notebook was rested on his lap, pen in his hand twirling it around his fingers ready to write any ideas down. The only problem was, nothing was coming to mind.

“Hey mate, why don’t you get going?” Jeff spoke, his hands tapping his shoulder, “it’s getting late and I’m sure your missus would be worried”

Worried, yeah” he scoffed, shaking his head as he slammed his notebook shut and stood up to start putting his things away into their compartments that he had taken over ever since he started working in the studio. Neither of them said another word, purely because Jeff didn’t want to make things worse for you than they already were.

“Just talk to her, yeah?” He said, not knowing whether it was right to intervene or just to leave it. “I’m sure she feels bad about it.”

Harry didn’t say anything back, he just simply got this things together, and made is way out of the studio and got into his car.

He spend a good couple of minutes in the car park not knowing what to do from here. His mind is racing with all sort of possibilities but is yet to come to a stand. His fingers are drumming against the steering wheel, his lips between his teeth and his eye felt heavy and tired. All he wants to do is go to bed but going home means facing the possible circumstances of what lays ahead.



Harry stumbles into his house almost tripping over the bottom ledge of the door. He slammed the door shut behind him and threw the keys across the table by the entrance, which ended up falling on the floor against the laminate. His wasted state didn’t care though, instead he just walked across the hallway and into the kitchen. He walked over the pieces of glass on the floor, the sound of it piercing through his throbbing head.

He opened the tap and and filled himself a full glass of water before turning around and walking into the living room, he set the glass on the table and shrugged him jacket off setting it roughly on the back of the couch. He kicked his boots off and slumped down on the couch and turned the TV on, playing around the channels a bit before he set himself to watch the catch up of last weeks football game. Though he intended on watching the game, his eyes soon started shutting and he soon doze off with the sound of the match in the background.

The following morning Harry didn’t expect to be woken up with the sound of his house phone shrilling through out the house, he squinted his eye as he rose his head from the awkward position on the sofa. He definitely would regret that at some point but right now he didn’t care. His body felt cold all of a sudden and he realised he hasn’t put anything over himself when he got home last night.

He stood up from his place on the sofa and walked into the hallway where the phone was and picked it up. He rubbed his eye, cleared his throat and brought the phone up to his ears.

“Hello?” He grumbled, making himself sound somewhat awake, when he didn’t get an answer straight away, he tried again. “Yes? Hello, who’s it?”

“Oh hi, it’s me Helen? Y/N’s friend.” The girl finally spoke. Harry was taken back a bit, wondering why on earth his girlfriends’ friend would ring him, but more or so how did she get his number?

“Uh- hi, how are you? What can I do for you?” He asked through the phone.

“I just want to talk to you about yesterday, Y/N ran-“ Harry knew where this was going, it annoyed him that you felt the need to blab about what goes on between the two of you, to any outsider. Whether that be your-so-called friends or his friends.

“Look, I don’t know what she’s said to you, but I’ll tell you, it’s none of your damn business” Harry stated before he allowed Helen to finish her sentence.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry but please just go and see her at least, she’s not being herself and I’m worried” she reasoned, in hopes of getting him to see some sense from where she was getting from. “She’s at some Peninsula hotel or something, I’m sure you know where that is”

“Why don’t you go and see how your-so-called friend if you’re that worried about her” he seethed, his anger and annoyance was getting the better of him right now and he was just letting all the steam off.

“Because not all of us are privileged enough to fly to wherever the hell we want!” Helen bit back at Harry, she knew about their argument from the night before, she just wanted him to go and talk to her at least, but Harry wasn’t taking things lightly. “Yes she messed up but you didn’t have to throw her out like that! God knows what would have happened to her!”

“Oh god, stop with the superstitious thoughts, she’s a big girl, she’s more than capable to look after herself, and yes you may know what happened because she opened her mouth, but you don’t know the whole story, so just leave us to it!” He didn’t let her speak once more, instead he slammed the phone shut on the holder and ran his fingered through his hair.

He didn’t know what to do or what to say to anyone anymore because no one would understand. The people who are suppose to understand how much his career means to him just don’t get that any small mistake of his behalf could cost him. His whole life he wanted to make the most of himself, and make those who loved him, proud of him.

Every time he tried to forget about what had happened between the two of you, and how much of a stupid argument it may have been in front of other, but to the both of you it meant the difference between gaining and losing something precious.

He loved you, he really did but he sometimes wondered whether that love was enough to keep up with his career, whether the love the both of you had was strong enough to take you into the future. He knows he had to make time for you in between his interviews, tours and appearances, but just how much of the importance of it did you understand? Maybe he’s making a bigger deal of it? Maybe he did take it a bit far by telling you to leave but there had to way around it. He loved his career and wanted to go forward and extent his career option, but where do you fit in that all?

You had needs that had to be fulfilled, and only he could fulfil, and wanted things in life just like any other person, the only difference was you had the world judging your every move and every decision. There had been times where you were unable to make the most of things because of your boyfriends career, but you put your head up high and took everything by the chin.

This whole damn situation was frustrating for Harry, he wanted to move forward from it but it was proving to be more complicated than he imagined. You both had always said whatever argument or disagreement you got into, you’ll always talk it out. Harry groaned to himself, he knew exactly where he wanted to go but did he have the guts to face up to it? It took him a few minutes to sort something out, so he went up to his bedroom. As he opens the door he could almost sense something was missing, everything was there just as he had left it but the feeling was there. He walked in and inspected the place before moving forward, the bed was made just as you had done the previous morning, there were a few of your skincare products sitting on the night stand beside your side of the bed. He walked over to your side and sat down on the bed, familiarising himself with you. Everything was just as you had left it, a mess. Harry hated it, he hates when there was mess around him because it stressed him out even more. Sometimes he thought you did it just to spite him, or to tease him.

He got up from the bed and walked over to his wardrobe and saw some of your belonging had gone. He wasn’t surprised though, you always did what other asked from you, it was your naivety and you had struggled to see it when people took advantage of it. And maybe that’s exactly what Harry had done.


You left last night after Harry had told you to, you didn’t want to anger him anymore so you thought it was best just to listen and get away from there as soon as possible. You had just wish he listened to you at first rather that making terrible decision in the heat of the moment.

In the three years you both had been together, you’d never seen him so angry before, and even so over something so small, so you thought.

You didn’t get much sleep last night, first you were unable to a hotel which would have rooms available, and those of which were cheap considering Harry had offered to take care of your expenses while you were in LA with him. You didn’t want him to, begged him to let you do your thing and spend your own money but he was persistent.

Once you did find a place you packed a few of your belonging, enough to keep you going for a few days until you and Harry managed to sort things out. If you ever sort it out. You decided to order some room service once you got in, but never got around to eating even half of it and you broke down crying as the sudden thought of Harry leaving you hit you. Being together for three year, you never thought ever breaking up with Harry, you always had an idea in your head that you’ll both eventually get married, have adorable little babies and grow old together. But they were just dreams, and not every dream is destined to become true, and you just had to live with it.


You were laying on the bed in the room, with an amazing view but that didn’t change the fact you felt to lonely and lost. You were in a foreign country with nowhere or no one to go to, everything you did involved Harry, and when he wasn’t here, you were lost.

Just as you were about to doze off, there was a knock at your door. Confused, you sat up in the bed and reach for the robe the hotel had provided and put it on, you walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Harry standing on the opposite side.

Your mouth gaped open by the sight of seeing him standing in front of you, you didn’t think he’d find out where you were, let alone be standing in front of your room

“Harry?” You said, a smile appearing on your face. In that moment you had forgotten why you were there in the first place, and phone call, the argument, and everything was out of your mind in that split moment, you were just happy to see him again,

Harry didn’t say anything back to you, his face sturdy as he looked down to you, his lips pierced shut in a straight line, with no emotions of his face.

You moved out of the way to allow him in, to which he responded hazily. He walked straight in as he inspected the room with a thoughtful look, he had brought a small overnight bag with him which he placed on the bed in a forceful manner. You shut the door behind you and walked to him

“I can’t believe you c-“

“This must have cost a bomb, right?” He said nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets as he walked around, inspecting every little detail the place had to offer.

Your face dropped as soon as the words came out of his mouth. You weren’t expecting him to be so full on with you, you thought he may have calmed down a bit.

“Can’t imagine you paying for it single handily” he accused, turning around to look at you. His eyes narrowed as he stared directly at you, as if he was waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what though, you didn’t know how to back yourself up on this one. He knew you had used his card to pay for the room, and he was trying to rile you up. You looked down, too ashamed to even look at him, let alone talk to him anymore. “Well?”

“Sorry, I di-“

“Quit apologising when you don’t mean it” he stated firmly.

“And what’s your deal with telling others about our business? Not even twenty four hours and people already know what happened” he stepped towards you in a mocking manner, his eyes never leaving you. “Should have kno-”

“Stop, okay?! I said I was sorry and can we please just get over it!” You spoke harshly, finally looking up to him, tears brimming your eyes. “I don’t know what more you want from me!”

“Nothing you do now will sort out the fact you ruined a really good career opportunity for me” he seethed. “Now I’m just going have to stay here longer than I wanted and sort something out because little miss ‘give me attention’ doesn’t know when to stop demanding!”

Both of you stood in the middle of the hotel room, staring at each other, hoping one of you would say something. What needed to be said, had been said, what more was left though.

After a few moments, Harry grabbed something out of his pocket, a piece of paper which you couldn’t make out what it was properly from where you were standing.

You were about to ask him what it was, but he beat you to it.

“Your flight is leaving at eight tonight, and you check out from here at four” he said, his attention on the little piece of paper in front of him. You looked at him shocked, your mouth opened and eyes wide. Why is he doing this? You thought.

He folded the paper, or flight tickets as you now know, and placed them in the bag which you could only thing if being one thing, your clothes to take back to the UK. He didn’t anything else, and walked past you to the door.

“Harry, wait” you stopped him, briskly walking to him and grabbing him by his jacket to stop him from leaving. He sighed heavily and turned around to you. “W-what is that? What does it mean for us?” You said through tears, your vision was blurred by the tears what were non stop at this point but you needed answers. “I-I know I shouldn’t have d-done what I did, but please talk to me” you pleaded him as you stepped closer and grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand and brought him closer to you. “Don’t do this, please, I’m begging you please don’t” he didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to do he just listen to you plead on. Tears were full on falling down, your face red from the irritation and hands shaking. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Just go”


What are your thoughts so far? Let me know! 

Will be doing part three to this but it won’t be up until next weekend (or after), I have exams and assignments to do this week so once they are over, I can get part three up!

Love you all x

3:18 AM

Originally posted by thegirlbehindtheblackcamera

Thanks for this request! A little bit of sleepy, smutty Harry. It was a fun one to write. Love you all so much. xx - L

You and Harry’s thigh get close in the middle of the night.

Warnings: smut

Word Count: 1,156

Keep reading

Choosing Her

description: y/n overhears harry sticking up for her when he is questioned on their relationship and encouraged to be unfaithful to her.

word count: 1,347

warnings: profanity

a/n: there are a few writings out there where y/n hears harry talking negatively about her, so I thought I would try something similar with a different approach!! ALSO i love grimmy and know he would never be like this but please use ur imaginations xoxo love u all!! 



As her eyes flutter open, her hazy mind becomes confused at the sound of faint voices audible within her home. Once her grogginess fades and is replaced with clarity, she distinguishes Harry’s deep voice speaking softly within the kitchen of their cozy home. The sound of his voice causes a wave of relief to wash over her body, for there is no greater sense of security than when she is with him.

She groans as she rubs her hand over the right temple of her head. She had only been at work for approximately an hour before she called Harry to pick her up, for an agonizing pain had developed in her head and she could hardly function due to the throbbing ache. Harry had safely transported her back to their shared home and had gently assisted her towards their bedroom. Once he shut the blinds to block out the light, he had tucked her into their cozy bed and left a tender kiss upon her cheek before returning to the studio.

Hearing Harry’s voice engage in a conversation with several other individuals, she realizes that Harry must have invited his band mates back to the house following their session in the studio. They have a tendency to do this, particularly after an exceptionally great day in the studio. Sometimes he would ask some of his other friends to come along as well, and before you know it, their house is filled with Harry’s greatest friends. She is used to having them over, and in fact, she thoroughly enjoys being around his friends. Those that Harry loves quickly became her loved ones as well, and she could not imagine not having them in her life.

She slowly eases herself from the comfort of her bed and gradually makes her way towards the bedroom door. On any other night, she would put in a little effort to improve her appearance and clothe herself in something other than her Pyjamas. On this night, however, all she wants is to sneak into the kitchen so she can pour a steaming cup of tea and then return to the warmth within her fluffy bed.

However, as she quietly descends down the stairs, her body freezes at the sound of her name being brought up in the conversation. She slowly lowers herself to sit upon the stairs, hiding herself from the view of Harry and his friends. She can clearly hear their conversation from the stairs, and she can even see slightly into the kitchen where they have all gathered.

“How long have you and Y/N been together now?”

Fixating upon the raspy voice, she recognizes it to belong to Mitch Rowland, a member of Harry’s band and one of his greatest friends. She has always gotten along really well with Mitch, and she considers her and Mitch to have a special bond unlike the ones that she has with the rest of Harry’s friends.

Peeking into the kitchen, she can see her handsome boyfriend dressed in his favourite black NY sweater and casually leaning upon the island in the middle of the room. She cannot help the butterflies that stir within her stomach at the sight of his striking appearance.

“Urm, it’s been almost two years,” Harry responds before taking a large swig of his beer.

She then hears Adam jump into the conversation. “Must be a record for you then, huh?”

Harry chuckles in response. “Definitely my longest relationship,” Harry confirms while lightly nodding his head. “Haven’t made it half as long with anyone else.”

A large smile involuntarily jumps to her face. She feels like the luckiest girl in the world, for she is the girl that Harry had settled down with. He had told her numerous times that what they had with each other was unlike anything he had ever had before, but hearing him also confirm this with his friends makes it feel even that much more real.

And then she hears Nick Grimshaw contribute to the conversation.

“That’s because you were happy with one night stands and late night booty calls.”

It’s not that she doesn’t like Nick. In fact, her and Nick are good friends and get along really well with one another. But Nick is the type of friend that loves to be a bad influence and create drama. She adores Nick, but she also knows that he is not one of Harry’s friends that she can particularly trust.

“Seems like an entire lifetime ago,” Harry mumbles.

“It must have been hard to give up it all,” Nick taunts. “You know, giving up all of the women throwing themselves at you just to have the same girl each night.”

She feels her eyebrows furrow in disappointment at the turn of the conversation.

She watches the curls of Harry’s head bounce as he nods his head in agreement.

“It was hard,” Harry says, “But definitely worth it.”

“So you’re telling me that you don’t ever feel trapped?”

Harry laughs loudly, as if that is the most absurd thing that he has ever heard. 

“Fuck no,” Harry responds. “I don’t know, man, it’s hard to understand if you’ve never experienced it.” 

“Experienced what?”

“Being really fuckin’ in love, I guess.”

Her heart nearly jumps through her heart at his words. She feels completely giddy and on cloud nine, almost as if she is sixteen years old and returning home from her very first date. Unable to wipe the smile from her face, she does not fight it from beaming.

“So I guess you aren’t going to meet up with Kendall then?” Mitch assumes.

“Definitely not,” Harry answers. “I didn’t even reply to her message.”  

“Wait, what message? Are we talking about Kendall Jenner?” Nick asks, sitting forward on the chair in anxiousness at the juicy gossip.

She, too, wonders what message Harry could be referring to. She feels her heart thumping loudly within her chest, completely overcome with uneasiness at the conversation.

“Kendall wrote Harry asking to meet up at her hotel room when she is in London next week,” Mitch explains.

She watches as Harry lifts his beer bottle to his mouth, clearly striving to withdraw from the conversation. He slightly turns his body to peer over his shoulder, ensuring that she is not nearby and able to hear the conversation. Little does he know, however, that his girlfriend is only feet away, striving to hold back the tears that threaten to fall down her cheeks.

“Holy shit!” Nick exclaims. “Are you going to do it?”

A stern appearance crosses Harry’s face. “I have a girlfriend, Nick.”

“I mean, Y/N doesn’t have to find out.”

Harry shakes his head, adamantly. “I’m going to tell her about it,” Harry announces. “I am just waiting for her to feel better before I do.”

But he didn’t need to. Although it is not exactly what she had wanted to hear, she has never felt as confident in Harry as she does in that moment. Her mouth pulls upwards into a proud smile before she decides that she does not need to hear anything further. Pulling herself into a standing position, she ascends towards the bedroom, allowing Harry and his friends to continue their conversation without any unknown listeners.

But as the night drags on and his friends eventually leave the home, Harry joins his girlfriend in their bedroom. With her back resting against the headboard of the bed, she peers across the room and observes as Harry strips himself of the clothing he had been wearing.

“Kendall Jenner, huh?” she asks through a smug smirk. “That must have been a hard one to pass up.”

Harry’s green eyes widen and dart towards her, staring at her in complete shock. “I was going to tell you,” he says quickly, defending himself.

“I know,” she says through a faint giggle. “I heard.”

Harry snickers, for he realizes that she had been listening to his conversation with his friends. Completely naked, Harry slowly crawls up the bed on all fours, slowly approaching his girlfriend. He stops when his face is only inches away from her, causing them to stare intensely into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?” Harry asks.

“For sticking up for me,” she answers, “And for choosing me each and every day.”  

“Always,” Harry replies.

He leans forward and crashes his lips against hers, pulling her into a mesmerizing and passionate kiss.

“After all,” he says once they break apart briefly. “Who needs Kendall, or any other girl for that matter, when I have you?”

miss you.

request: angsty piece where harry gives y/n the silent treatment.


where y/n loses Harry’s rose ring.

this is very delayed as I went through a writer’s block, but I think I’ve overcome it. I spent a lot of time on this so I really hope you all enjoy :) feedback is appreciated!


It was a ring. A material item woven of dear silver into the form of a rose in everlasting bloom. Intricate in how patience perfected the very details adorning the heavy band, it was a prized possession, from the shaded black embodied beneath the silver petals to the sister of leaves on the sides engraved mid sway in the winds.

But it was a ring. Inanimate without a mind of its own. A luxury that y/n believed had been mistaken by him for a necessity.

It was an instinct for Harry to reach for y/n’s delicate hand when he saw the exorbitant accessory no longer protecting her symbolic ring finger. He brought it closer to his curious eyes, rubbing his thumb across the skin just below her knuckles. Excuses began to cross his mind thereafter: perhaps she had mindlessly moved it onto another finger; perhaps the band had become invisible on her skin overnight; perhaps his eye deceived him and the ring had been there all along.

Keep reading

Infinity - Made in the A.M. series

Originally posted by twofronteeth

Requests: 1. Getting into a fight with h at Anne’s house please. 2. request-going to lunch with h, his family, and your family. (These were two separate requests I just combined them)

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: I’m starting to work on the requests I’ve been sent, thank you so much to everyone who has been sending them! Feel free to send more 

It had been one of the best days you had had with Harry in a while.

Every day you spent with him seemed to be a great day, but he had been really busy lately so the two of you hadn’t been able to do much. You never blamed him, this was the lifestyle you signed on for after all, but you were still grateful for days like this.

The two of you had started the day with a lazy sleep in. Despite it being the late morning you had remained in bed, shifting from lying in each other’s arms to gentle, loving kisses for hours. The two of you shared some long-awaited downtime together, just drinking each other in.

But when the time on your bedside clock had hit 11 o’clock the two of you had begrudgingly gotten out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Anne had been planning this lunch for weeks and the last thing she would have wanted was for the two of you to be late. You both knew how her mind went to the worst case scenario when anyone was more than three minutes late.

So, punctual as ever, Harry’s car rolled into the driveway of his family home right on 12:30. You had gone to open the door to get out but Harry had grabbed your arm to catch your attention. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “I love you.”

You were sure your smile spread from ear to ear as you returned those three little words. You leaned over to place one last gentle kiss on Harry’s lips before you joined both his and your family for lunch.

When you walked in, both your families were already scattered in small groups throughout the house, each in separate conversations. “Y/N!” Anne exclaimed as she saw you walk through the door. She quickly made her way over to you and wrapped you up in a big hug, squeezing you so tight you could hardly breathe. “Good to see you too, Mum,” Harry joked as he stood to the side.

She gave him a light smack on the arm but pulled him into a hug seconds later. “It’s good to see you,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

The two of you spent the next half hour greeting the rest of the family members who were at the gathering and sipping champagne, up until Anne announced that the food was ready. You both took your seats at the table and seconds later Harry had placed his hand on your thigh, tracing small circles with his thumb.

For a while, everything was complete bliss. Harry was by your side and your family was all around, chatting and eating great food. You had always been very family orientated and times like this were one of the things you loved most in this world.

Everything was going perfectly until your mother brought up your family friend, Isabelle, having a baby last week.

“Hopefully it won’t be long until Harry and Y/N start giving us cute little grandchildren,” Anne said with a grin.

“Well, he better put a ring on it first,” you joked and everyone else laughed along easily.

Everyone, that is, but Harry.

At your words, he hastily removed his hand from your thigh and your laughing was cut short. A few people around the table, as well as yourself, noticed his sour expression, Gemma being one of them. With a quick glance between the two of you, she knew to change the subject.

“I’m thinking of visiting Isabelle and the baby tomorrow if anyone wants to join me,” she broke the silence that had filled the room. By now everyone had noticed that Harry did not appreciate your joke, so everyone was quick to latch onto her subject change.

You, on the other hand, just looked at Harry in confusion. What was his problem? The two of you had been dating for over three years now and had been living together for almost two. Surely marriage is what you were working towards. The two of you had never said it out loud before, but you had thought you had this silent understanding of what you both wanted for the future. But now you were starting to doubt this.

Harry refused to meet your gaze, eyes moving to whoever was speaking at that moment but never engaging in the conversation.

You stared down at your food, no longer feeling at all hungry.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, standing in your chair abruptly.

“You alright love?” Anne looked at you in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just going to the bathroom sorry,” you smiled at her, but it didn’t meet your eyes.

You quickly exited the dining room, acutely aware of Harry standing in his place and following you out. You walked all the way to the other end of the house before turning to face Harry, you didn’t want your families to hear any of this conversation. You opened your mouth to speak but Harry beat you to it.

“What the hell was that Y/N?” he snapped at you.

Keep reading

Beg For It

Originally posted by nodenyingheisgolden

This is multiple requests in one. This is… dirty, to say the least. Love you all very much. Enjoy. xx - L

Harry sees what can make you feel better- toys or him.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,381

Keep reading