Type-Multiple blurbs, but in total word count, they make a One-Shoty blurb. So, consider this a One-Shoty Blurb!
Verse- Model!Harry x Fashion-Designer!Y/n
Word Count- 1.6k
Warnings- Slight smut. Not proofread.
A/n- I had been planning this one for days but when the teaser came out, the inspo hit.
Sort of a description- Harry is a model and doing a photoshoot, and the clothes are obviously designed by the woman we all love, Y/n. Hahah xD Also, this one includes the dazed photoshoots, as well as what he wore in the teaser, so let’s assume that all of these are for the same: Dazed (including the teaser one <3).
A sigh leaves Y/n’s mouth from the back of her throat as her mouth hangs wide open, eyes never seeming to leave the beauty that just walked in and is standing parallel to the doorframe.
“Y- you look, oh- ugh, oh my lord. You look so pretty,” she trailed off, standing up from where she had sat down on the wooden floor due to the chair being full of Harry’s home clothes he had arrived on the shoot wearing. And then again, it’s a dressing room, you can’t expect it to have ten chairs and three sofas.
The sofa being full of the next clothes he’s gonna wear, is just whole another story.
Y/n walks towards him, eyes glued to his frame as he poses for her. “You look gorgeous, Harry. Just the way I had wanted you to look,” she says, her hands coming to touch him.
She slowly slides her hand all over his body, checking out her work on him, or checking out him in her work, she’s not quite sure.
“Harry! Everyone’s ready!” The photographer calls for him.
The Designer was about to kiss him good luck when she halts her actions. “Holy- wait a second,” she asks, causing him to chuckle as she rushes towards the tiny desk in the room and fishes out a few things from her purse.
“Here,” she quickly applies some of her lip-balm on his lips, and yells that Harry is going out there in 5 to the crew, in the process.
Very frantically but smoothly, she draws a thin line of black eyeliner towards the end and just above his pretty eyes-lashes. She moves back a bit to observe her work and checks everything out as the makeup artist had already worked on him.
She just hopes that they won’t get mad, the make-up artist.
A sloppy smile stretches out on her lips. “You’re good now. Look like an absolute angel,” she admits, kissing the tip of his nose.
summary: the one where harry is dating a latina, y/n and harry are meeting her family for the first time, and harry is stressed that he doesn’t know any spanish
summary: y/n and her brother’s best friend harry m, has some pent up sexual frustration for a while. wouldn’t it be best if they just had a one and done? you know to get it out of their system ;)
warnings: blood, violence, weapons, mentions of assault
Harry was not going to save YN, absolutely not no way, he wanted her to die.
The thing was - he wanted to kill her, not some random fucker and despite what an awful human he was, he’d never let a woman get assaulted.
He was running late to harass her after her long shift at the club, he had a deal go wrong with two of his rivals dead, and one of his men with a minor injury so overall it wasn’t awful.
As he arrives in the small, damp alley where she always exited - he saw a sight he wasn’t expecting at all.
YN was pinned up against the wall, a large man looming over her with a knee shoved between her thighs.
“Plea-Please, don’t,” She whimpers pathetically, eyes watering and wide as he continues to whisper inaudible things to her.
Harry feels the instant rage - the kind that remind people why he’s a gang leader but when he’s mad - he sees red and doesn’t have one logical thought.
It has him pulling out his handy knife, taking the man by surprise by coming up behind him and wrapping a strong arm around his neck, tugging him back into Harry’s chest.
“Y’think y’can touch women like tha’?” He snarls furiously, positioning the knife against his throat - sharp point nipping the thin skin.
The man is gasping, trying to pry Harry off of him but it was useless - Harry was ten times strong on top of being on his normal high of adrenaline and unadulterated rage.
“I don’t feel like calling m’men to come clean y’brains of the cement - so when I let you go, y’better fuckin’ run for your life,” Harry hisses, letting the blade go a tad deeper into the skin.
“And if I see this happen again, I’ll fuckin’ paint the walls with your blood,” He warns as he release the man, chucklingly as his wobbly legs struggle to let him run from the alley.
If he’s ever expected a ‘thank you’ from this girl - it should be now but she has a mixed, stormy expression in her face.
“Can I give y’a hug? To thank you?” YN murmurs softly, eyes still wide and bright in the dim lighting of the night.
Harry freezes, he doesn’t hug - never has and never will entertain the idea of doing such a stupid, unnecessary sign of affection.
He either kills or fucks, there’s no in between when it comes to him but he’s taken off guard for sure.
Whatever the fuck black magic there is, Harry (let me remind you Diablo - the most feared man in Europe) just nods dumbly, arms stiff by his side.
He tries to rationalize later that it was just because of the circumstances, her pretty dove eyes, and puffy quivering lips.
She steps forward, moving to snake her arms around his waist and he moves to wrap his arms around her but she’s quick as bolt of lightening.
YN snatches a hefty wad of cash out of his back pocket before pulling her own knife from her hoodie and pushing the blade against Harry’s chin.
“You just fucking ruined that for me, fuckface. I’m taking this as compensation for you not minding your own business,” She bites out, shoving the fat stack of bills into the hoodie pocket.
Fuck - how could Harry have not realized that it was a set-up to rob the dude. He knew that she made a lot of her money by luring in men before taking whatever she can.
“Y’fuckin’ little leech,” Harry hisses, pushing down the embarrassment that he fell for her asking for a hug - like a fucking schoolboyidiot.
“You’re one to talk,” She laughs in disbelief, eyes tracking a little droplet of blood running down his neck to his collarbone.
“Get the knife away from my neck or y’really gonna regret it - you utterly disgusting brat,” He warns, preparing for his next step.
When she refuses to move the knife, just as quick as she had been, grips her hand hard enough it forces her to drop the knife before he swipes her feet with his leather boot and she falls flat on her ass.
YN is still processing what just happened when Harry leans down, his hand reaching into her pocket and retrieving the cash.
In the most asshole move ever, he takes a few notes and throws them at her, “Buy y’self somethin’ nice, like a new fucking attitude.”
Then he’s gone and she is fuming - he wants her dead?
prompt (from kofi commision): “Can you do gang Harry where she actually needs his help? I know she never gets scared of needs his help but I think it would be cool to see the beginning of their relationship or a year in where something happens and she actually needs his help and is scared for once! :)”
word count: 7k+
warnings: smut, violence, blood, weapons
***<— click for visuals throughout the story!
i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.
Just like this one-shot, you can commission me for any writing - avaliable through my kofi pag!
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-
Since the beginning of their relationship, starting back from when they had declared they were going to try to kill one another - YN had made one thing very fucking clear.
She did not need Harry or anybody else’s help for anything.
If she died trying, she died trying because she did not ever rely on anyone for anything - she learned that early on in life.
Harry and YN have been dating for nearly six months, after coming to the realization that it wasn’t hatred they felt but lust and emotion.
Both have felt that strong lust before but not that pull at their hearts, the desire to see each other, or miss each other when they were away from one another.
That didn’t mean they weren’t stubborn.
YN refuses to show weakness because Harry hadn’t - she wasn’t quite sure if he had any by the way he held himself.
prompt ( from a kofi donation) : “When the twins are old enough to be in school, if they choose to do public schooling, one of the kids says something inappropriate (repeating from one of the parents) and H finds it funny but the missus dosent. “
warnings: guns, violence, blood
i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.
If you enjoyed please please reblog, like, comment, recommend or inbox me to chat about the fic!
prompt: how long can she wait on harry to make a move? or are they always going to be stuck in this limbo.
warning: abo (if it’s not your thing don’t read; if you don’t know what it is - research before reading); possessive behavior, mention of blood, smut, minor dni
Authors note: for the finale of this week, a new trope officially. wolfrry! i worked extremely hard on this fic and while i was writing it -i hated it!!!! but after proofreading, it may be one of my favorite pieces i have ever written. thank you for the past year of support and how much we’ve grown together on this blog. all my love always. isla x
if you enjoyed - please reblog, share, like, recommend, comment, & come talk to me about it.
Anne and Carla knew there was something unique about their children - instantly when they met.
It was like there was an invisible string that had been knitted around the toddler’s waists and tied to one another.
They gravitated towards each other since the first time they had crossed paths at the park when they were just around three years old.
They sought out each other to play with, sitting for hours in the sandbox together, searching for flowers in the little meadow, or chasing each other around.
Then it was guaranteed tears when it was time to go home, whereas YN would quietly whine, Harry would puff up and emit a squeaky growl to try to intimidate his mother.
YN wasn’t a weak omega, not even from the start, rarely did Harry’s baby alpha voice or threatening rumbles shake her up.
Harry was always temperamental. He had a close group of friends which later developed in his pack but he didn’t care much for random interaction.
He cared about YN. It was an innate need to protect her and make sure she was safe and happy. He didn’t listen to anyone on the matter.
Girls throughout their school careers crushed and lusted after the alpha. He was by far, the most wanted alpha on campus by betas and omegas a like.
Alpha’s hated Harry.
He never backed down to another alpha, he was a true leader - through and through - and everyone knew that he would replace his father one day.
The Styles protected a large expanse of the state, including all of the territories surrounding their homeland despite the wars that they have waged that included copious amounts of bloodshed and loss.
prompt: I took a few different ideas from my anons for this xmas mashup involving almost being caught, nail polish, dolls, and excitement.
i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.
if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!
-
Harry and YN loved spending a few minutes each night after the children went to bed finding new places and set-ups for the naughty little elf.
It was the messiest one so far because they were inching closer and closer to the day - with a few bottles of silly string.
“You’re cleaning this up in the morning,” YN informs him with an eyebrow raise as she clears off the kitchen island before propping the elf on top of a stack of pots.
“So mean t’me, mama,” Harry sighs but he’s smiling boyishly as he shakes the bottle up and begins to cover the countertop and pots with the neon string.
prompt (from kofi donation): Maybe you can write a few sentence about Ezzie dressing up as a baby bat for Halloween and no one of his siblings thinks he’s scary so Daddy has to pretend he is!
Thanks bear anon! Hope you enjoy
-
Ezra was freshly four and determined to be as scary as possible for Halloween this year because he was just so exited to learn about that emotion.
Patricia, his therapist, had been working on different emotions with him - normally spending two to three sessions on each one.
Last session was learning about being scared or fearful.
-
Harry had just gotten in from San Diego but wasn’t going to miss his son’s weekly appointment for the world - they scheduled them around his away games so he’d always be there.
He was dead tired, yes.
It didn’t matter though because making Ezra feel better and less anxious was more important than anything else.
Harry and YN were sat on the floor with Ezra as Patricia sat in her chair, the young boy was nestled into his fathers lap, staring wide eyed at the picture cards in front of him.
“Okay, Ezra. Can you tell me something that you think is scary?” Patricia probes, reviewing their past hour of hard work.
He shrinks back into his father with a whine, unsure and nervous but YN is reaching over and murmuring softly, “C’mon, Ez. Doing so good, almost done.”
“Mama and daddy are s’proud, answer Miss. Patricia now, honey,” Harry adds supportively, rubbing his back.
YN watches the way her husband’s shoulders deflate, a bit of sadness and blame as he swallows hard, continuously rubbing his back.
“Oh? Why is that scary?” The therapist tone is friendly and inquisitive enough that Ezra doesn’t feel like she’s ordering him to answer.
“S’scary ‘cause I miss him and ge-get scared he wo-won’t come home,” Ezra sniffles, turning his face into Harry’s shirt to hide.
YN’s heart breaks a little bit when she sees Harry’s reaction to the words his son spoke. He looks at the ground for a moment, biting his lip as he gathers himself.
He has always felt guilt about being away so much during season.
“Bubby, I always come home. Yes?” Harry reminds him, hugging him a bit closer, “Daddy will always always come home to you, y’mama, y’brothers, and Briar.”
“Validate his feelings, Harry,” Patricia offers kindly, directive but not too demanding - reminding him.
Harry looks up at her, nodding and turning Ezra to look at him so they’re making eye contact, “I understand why that would be scary. It’s okay to feel scared when I’m away but mama will also always keep you safe.”
Patricia gives him a nod that he did a good job and YN reaches over to rub his shoulder, adding, “Ezzie if you’re ever scared when daddy is away - y’can always ask mama to call him, okay?”
-
So yes scary.
He had picked up from his older brothers that sometimes scary was fun, that he could be scary to get a reaction.
Ezra had decided that he was going to be a bat for Halloween, a little black costume with the detailed of the animal’s skeleton ***.
He deemed it very scary so he thought it would be perfect for scaring his older brothers who always tried to do it to him.
It was a few hours before trick or treating, all the kids were excited but Ezra insisted on getting into his costume early.
Ezra decides on Easton, eight, first, who is sitting on the floor in his bedroom - attempting to create a massive house from legos.
“Boo!” The youngest boy squeaks, jumping in front of his older brother with the arms spread and as scary of a voice as possible.
Easton just looks up, unfazed and says, “I like your costume. S’cool!”
The little bat huffs, deciding that he might have a better chance with Cash and Briar who were in the playroom.
He jumps out from the doorway again, Cash doesn’t even look up from his puzzle and Briar does look at Ezra but she just giggles and smiles at him.
Ezra is definitely feeling defeated by this point, head hung a little lower because he couldn’t be scary and he wanted to be so bad!
Little did he know that Harry had caught him trying to scare his two siblings and fail from where he was in the kitchen.
Harry makes a grand show of whistle and acting oblivious to the little bat sneaking into the kitchen, despite the fact he isn’t good at hiding yet.
Ezra takes a deep breath before shouting, “Boo!”
In full dramatics, which Harry is very good at, he acts liked he’d just been completely startled - the box of crackers in his hands dropping to the floor as Harry let’s out a faux yelp of surprise.
“Oh my goodness! I thought you were a real bat, Ezra Duke! Y’scares daddy so much!” Harry gasps with wide eyes and a hand in his chest, “Y’so scary, bub!”
And it was totally worth it.
Ezra’s whole face lights up when he realizes he managed to scare his dad which was even better than doing it to his siblings.
The young boy is belly-laughing and near tears with how funny his father’s reaction was, managing to squeak out, “Got you, daddy!”
Harry growls, stalking over and scooping Ezra up to nip at his cheeks, “You got me. Made me drop m’crackers! Y’did sucha good job. Should we go scare mama?”
“Yes!” He automatically agrees, allowing Harry to carry him through the house, upstairs to where YN is sat on their bed - folding a mountain of clothes.
Harry sneaks them around the corner, popping out and let’s Ezra squeal out an excited boo!
YN looks up, already in her motherly instincts despite not being surprised - she could hear her youngest boy giggling wildly in the hallway.
“There’s a bat in the house, Harry! Oh no, there’s a bat!” She points at Ezra with a surprised expression, dropping the article of clothing she was folding.
“S’just Ezzie, mama!” The child laughs, Harry tosses him playfully on the bed and he crawls up to his mother, “S’me, mama!”
“Whoa, bubby. I thought you were really a bat! I was so so scared!” YN replies, bopping him on his little nose with a grin of her own.
And just his parents responding like that, well it makes his whole night and one day, when he grows up - he’ll vaguely remember this memory with great fondness of how wonderful and supportive his parents are.
prompt (from a kofi donation): “ok so MLB H taking the kids trick or treating or like them having a halloween party and y/n tries to get them all (herself and h included) to do a coordinating costume and maybe it doesn’t work out exactly and he reassures/ comforts her ”
***<- click for visuals throughout the story
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—
It was an annual work Halloween party that the New York Yankees held a week prior to holiday at the stadium.
The field was set up for the event with bars, catered food, tons of activities for the kids while all the adults enjoyed the colder weather on the turf.
The Styles’ children usually loved to go to it each year but the two oldest had recently recovered from a cold and were still crabby as hell.
YN had organized their outfits this year to coordinate, she enjoyed doing it and it always made the tabloids, whatever outfits they chose.
She had decided that Harry was going to be a farmer, dressed in denim overalls with a plaid button-up underneath and a wide-brimmed farmer’s hat.
YN was a dressed as a scarecrow with an overall dress, a matching plaid shirt to Harry, with cowboy boots - her face decorated as well. ***
Easton was dressed as a cow**, Cash was a billy goat **, Ezra was a chicken **,and Briar was a little lamb **.
Hi, this was a special request from a kofi donation. Thank you so so much planet anon.
This was the request: Maybe just like what a normal night looks like for them in school after getting out of class/practice, etc just really domestic and fluffy, maybe a little smut idk, completely up to you, make it yours ❤️
reblog, like, recommend, comment, & come talk to me if you enjoyed it!
Enjoy!
-
It was about six months into dating.
Harry had been doing some very vigorous training for the upcoming games against a very good team that they needed to take down for the playoffs.
That meant workouts in the morning, classes, and then training at the field until it was dark and the stadium lights turned on.
He was struggling practice because he missed his person. He hadn’t been able to see YN in nearly two weeks because of this bullshit.
YN had become his person very very quickly. He fell hard in a way that had never happened to him before in his life.
Harry attempts to call her on his way back to the frat house after practice, sighing when it rings until it goes to voicemail.
“Hi baby, m’just callin’ to say goodnight. I miss y’a whole fuckin’ lot and can’t wait until I can get you in m’arms again,” He murmurs into the phone, ignoring his teammates who are fucking around beside him.
“Did you hear that? You wanna hold me, Styles?” Austin coos, throwing his arm around his shoulder with a kissy noise.
“Not w’a face only y’mama can love,” He teases back, slipping his phone into his bag and trying to push back the lump in his throat.
He can’t help but text too.
h: Tried to call. Have a good night, sleep well. I love you ❤️
All the players drop their smelly gear and plop down on the coach to relax but Harry just trudges upstairs with a bit of gloom.
He never thought he’d be so attached to someone.
When he steps into his room, he’s instantly pissed off because someone is in his bathroom - using his shower and making it warm in the room.
“Who the fuck is in there? Are you fucking joking, I’m not in the mood for this,” Harry booms, dropping his duffle and stomping through the door.
Harry rips open the shower curtain, dumbfounded and frozen when he isn’t faced with one of his teammates but his soft, plush, wet, naked girlfriend.
“Surprise,” She giggles lightly as she blinks through the stream of water and pushing her hair off of her face.
He doesn’t think before he’s pushing her further back into the shower and following in after he with his lips sealed to hers.
“Harry!” YN laughs against his lips, he was still completely clothed, “You’re soaking your clothes!”
“Don’t care, need t’kiss you,” He grunts without a care, his hands roaming her hips, belly, ribcages, everything.
“Mmm!” She squeaks happily, helping him remove all of his water-heavy, soiled clothes off and out onto the tiles floor.
“Missed you s’much, baby,” He murmurs, over the moon, as he moves his head down to capture her nipple in his mouth.
“H, yes,” YN hums happily, hands carding through his tangled, matted curls as his other hand kneads at her tummy until slipping to her pretty, plump folds that hide away his favorite parts.
“Yeah, don’t act surprise. Comin’ t’surprise me, of course, I’m gonna lose my mind. M’fuckin’ feral for this body,” He tells her lowly, voice deep and affected as he twists at her unattended nipple with enough force to have her hiss.
Harry wanted to do so so many things from eating her out, to playing with her nipples long enough that she comes from that with just a little thigh riding, but she makes up his mind for him.
“Need you in me, c’mon,” She goads him, turning around and pressing her palms against the wall with her bum stuck out.
“Shit, darling. How is every part of you perfect?” Harry wonders out loud, fingers curiously dipping between her cheeks, thumb smoothing over her tighter hole.
It has her letting out an unfiltered, loud whimper and she pushes back into until he breaches just the littlest of bit.
“Mmm, gonna ‘ave to play with y’arse,” Harry replies in her ear as he slips up and down her entrance a few times before fully pushing in.
“Gonna have to play with yours too,” She retorts back but falters when he starts out with rough, directed thrusts.
“Baby, don’t tease me, know I’ll love it,” He replies, nipping at the nape of her neck, shoulders, whenever he could reach.
It only takes a few minutes before he’s close and she’s whining, “H, just need a little more plea-“
He doesn’t let her finish, tows her leg up and brings his other to thumb tight, wide circles on her clit until she’s panting and rocking against him thumb then back on his cock.
“Good girl, y’got it, baby,” Harry praises, legitimately in awe of how fucking gorgeous his girlfriend was and how he managed to snag her.
“Yeah, yeah,” She babbles, tensing up before letting out a long, euphoric moan as she releases, Harry following right after.
“Want another one?” Harry offers as soon as he pulls out, soft but always willing to please.
“Want a cuddle,” YN replies, thumbing at his puffy bottom lip, “Wouldn’t turn down your mouth though never would.”
“My mouth that good, darlin’?” He hums cockily, squatting down and spreading her legs.
“Don’t get a big ego,” She huffs with a chuckle, “Haven’t had many guys do it to me. Maybe it’s just how it always is.”
Harry can’t help but frown before biting her folds gently for a punishment, “S’never this good. M’the only guy who will be doin’ it from now on, understand?”
He then continues to make her come twice on his tongue just to prove his point before they scrub each other off and wash their hair.
She waits in her towel as Harry riffles through his drawer for her favorite shirt of his to sleep in as well as grabbing a pair of panties from her drawer in his dresser.
Then he’s tugging the shirt over her head and leaning down for her to step into the soft underwear and wriggling it up her hips for her.
“I missed you so much,” YN sighs, once Harry’s in a pair of briefs and they’re snuggled tightly under his covers.
“Thought ‘bout you every second,” He replies truthfully, “Spoon me, darling.”
They move around until YN is tight against the back of him, his tiny bum in the cradle of her hips, and her arm swung around his hard stomach.
“So needy,” She teases, kissing over his strong, muscular back that’s still warm from the shower and sun exposure.
“Never had this before,” Harry mumbles sheepishly, blushing into the darkness of the room and he feels her squeeze his middle.
“I know but you do now,” YN assured him before whispering back, “And it makes me feel so special you are letting me experience this with you.”
Harry brings his hand up to kiss her knuckles, “Want t’experience everything with you from now on.”
prompt:YN and Harry do not get off to a very pleasant start. It doesn’t get any better when she writes an unflattering article in the school newspaper that had him seeking revenge.
word count: 8.6 k :)
warnings:language
note:i have inserted the original blurb of how the met in the beginning - so if it seems familiar it is!
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——
It was a college game.
Both of them were in their sophmore year.
Harry was the colleges biggest prospect and they were even sure if he was going to make it all four years before he got drafted in the major leagues.
YN was studying english with a passion to write. She was on the school newspaper. Now usually, she would never ever report on sports but Paul was out with a stomach bug and it was sin to miss one of Harry Styes’ home games.
So she was sat on the sidelines, with her iPad, taking notes with very little interest in what was happening. It made it worse because Harry was such a cocky motherfucker.
He knew that he was good, humble was not a word to describe the lean, tall, muscular boy who spent half of the game running bases after successful hits or standing on the pitch - striking player after player out.
It was going to be his last round pitching, top of the seventh, he was tiring from his amazing stretch of strikeouts, when he goes to make a play by throwing to third - he overthrows and the ball comes barreling towards the sidelines.
YN had enough time to put her iPad up in front of her face to block it breaking her face but instead it obliterated the screen on her tablet as it basically fell to pieces in her hand and the ground. Her hands cut up a little.
Medical staff was always on standby, they come rushing her aid, checking out her hands for injury - luckily superficial light scratches from the broken glass.
Harry was looking forward to bringing Ezra to the field with him today.
It was just a day of light stretching and game planning with the team - only about a three hour day before intensive training tomorrow.
The two older boys are up at Anne’s - YN is out of town for the day to go to a friend’s baby shower with Briar and won’t be home until later.
Ezra was super anxious this morning and absolutely refusedto be dropped off with his nana.
He had already woke up disgruntled when it was his father and not his mama - out of his normal routine off the start.
-
Easton and Cash automatically go running into Anne’s house, chasing off the cat before getting distracted by the cookies she had left baked on the kitchen counter.
He has Ezra on his hip and when he leans down, trying to set his feet on the floor - his son adamantly refuses to stand.
“No! No daddy, no!” Ezra protested, scrambled to hold onto his father with a angry screech.
“Whoa, okay. Okay, bubba,” Harry replies, picking him back up and rocking him a bit, “Feelings? Happy, sad, mad?”
“Mad,” He huffs without elaborating, small fist gripping his father’s shirt to guarantee he won’t be put down.
“Come to Nana?” Anne suggests, reaching out her arms for him.
“No no no,” He lisps, other hand moving up to tug at his father’s hair gently to get his point across, “No daddy, don’t leave me.”
-
Yeah, well Harry can’t say no to one of his babies asking him to not leave them.
So here Harry is, walking through the stadium hallways with his youngest son on his hip - dressed in an adorable dinosaur tracksuit ***and his current favorite doll ***.
When people wave and greet them, Ezra nuzzles into his father’s chest to hide shyly unlike his older brothers who would be going up and high-fiving everyone.
When they get onto the field, a few people try to come up to make conversation but anytime his attention is elsewhere - his son’s hand comes to pat his face as if to remind him that he’s there.
“Alright, where going to start with butterfly hamstring stretches,” Chris, one of the trainer, orders.
All the players oblige, including Harry who sits down and Ezra stands next to him - looking around curiously.
While all the men are laid on their backs with their arms and legs straight up and down, Harry loses sight of his son.
He sits up, sees Ezra toddling through the players, away from him - baby doll dragging in his hand as he looks around with wide curious eyes.
“Ezra,” Harry calls over the blasting rap music and the trainer yelling, “Ezra Duke.”
His son turns around to meet his father’s gaze.
“Get y’bum back to daddy, please,” Harry asks, patting the grass next to him.
“No no no,” His favorite word right now and he starts toddling away faster like it’s a game.
Harry has to leave his stretching position, takes a few long strides, and scoops up his mini-me, “Y’gotta listen to daddy, don’t tell me no.”
“Mama,” Ezra whimpers, “Want m’mama.”
“I know, sweetheart. Mama’s out with Briar right now,” He simpers, kissing his temple and carrying him back to his spot.
As Harry is stretching by having his legs spread and leaning over to touch his toes when Ezra pats his shoulder and tries to hand him his baby.
“Feed the baby,” Ezra demands, brow furrowed and lip pouted out as he presses the toy into his father’s chest.
“Can’t play right now, Ezzie,” He murmurs to his son but soon realizing this means a meltdown.
And he was right.
Ezra plops on his bum, throws his doll at his father, and begins to sob hysterically.
“Hey, we don’t throw things when we’re mad. S’not nice? Y’understand?” Harry says firmly, gently gripping his son’s chin.
He ignores his teammates who are chuckling because Harry is notorious for breaking bats and throwing things when he’supset.
Ezra snatches his doll back and makes a run for it, his little feet taking him as fast as they can as everyone watches on with humor.
“Son of a -“ Harry mutters, springing up and chasing after him before grabbing him and lugging him up onto his hip again, “I’m sorry, I have t’go. I’ll see y’guys tomorrow.”
With that, Harry is toting his crying son through the hallways and out to the car. He can’t be upset with him, knows that he hates his routine changed and not having his mom.
“Daddy, daddy,” He whimpers as Harry ticks him into his car seat, “Want m’mama.”
“I know, honey. Soon, okay?” He assures his son, about to close the door when Ezra squeaks.
“Kissy?”
“Y’gonna tell daddy tha’ y’sorry for throwing y’baby doll?” Harry asks, kissing his son’s forehead and then an extra one to his nose.
“Sorry f’throwing my baby,” He repeats with sad eyes, knuckling at them as they get heavy with drowsiness.
-
Ezra refuses to go to bed until his mother walks in the door.
He usually goes down at seven but it’s currently eight and constantly looking at his father and asking, “Mama?”
“I miss y’mama too,” Harry laughs, knowing she’s about to walk in any minute with their baby daughter who he’d also missed terribly.
“Hello?” A voice calls from the entryway, door opening and then shutting quietly.
“Mama!” Ezra squeals, his voice cracking as he starts blubbering, “Mama mama!”
“Oh hush, why the tears?” YN smiles softly when Ezra runs into her shins and begs to be picked up.
Harry excitedly goes over to the carrier where Briar is looking up at her dad with wide, bright eyes and when she sees who it is - she gives him a wide smile and babbles, “Daddadada.”
“There’s my lil’ mama,” Harry coos happily, heart melting when his daughter giggles when he picks her up and nuzzles her cheek, “And there’s m’baby mama.”
They kiss for a quick moment before she asks, “Why’s the bub still up?”
“Absolutely refused to go to bed without his mama,” Harry tells her, wincing when Briar nibbles on his finger, “Can’t blame ‘em. I can’t sleep without y’either.”
A/N: ceorry is finally here with plus size reader!! hope you guys will love it, i really enjoyed writing this and i can’t wait to read your thoughts!
WORD COUNT: 13.7k
WARNING: sexual content, struggle with body image
SUMMARY: You’re about to start your business as an interior designer. Thanks to your best friend, your first client turns out to be none other than Harry Styles, the insanely handsome and stupidly rich business man.
The front door shuts closed behind you just as Bianca drops the spoon she was holding into her bowl of ice-cream upon hearing your announcement and before she could even speak up you continue.
“And I think Vincent and I kinda broke up.”
She coughs with wide eyes, placing her bowl to the coffee table as she moves to one side of the couch.
“There’s a lot to unpack there, come on, sit down and tell me about it all!” she urges and sighing you drop your bag by the front door and walk over to her, collapsing onto the couch after what felt like the worst day of your life so far.
You eye the ice-cream Bianca just discarded and you feel like you could inhale it in one go so you point at it turning towards your best friend and flatmate.
“Can I eat that?” you sigh with a frown.
“Uh, sure, go ahead! Seems like you need it more than I do.”
You dig into it right away, drowning everything that happened today in the sweet, creamy, icy dessert. You eat it way too fast so you get an instant brain freeze, but in your current state it’s not even that painful.
“So, what happened?” Bianca asks cautiously.
“Um, well, my boss threw out the window everything I worked on the past month and wanted me to start over so I had enough and quit,” you start with the first part of your announcements.
“It’s kind of good, isn’t it? I mean, you hated working there and you’ve been thinking about leaving for a while.”
“Yeah, but not this abruptly. I knew I wouldn’t work at fucking Ikea forever, but it would have been nice if I had a full plan before quitting.”
Shoving one spoon full of ice-cream after the other into your mouth you try to keep yourself together and not think about how uncertain your life has just become. Everything you had and thought to be stable a few days ago is now gone.
“You’ll figure it out. You can finally start your own business, like you always wanted!” B tries to cheer you up.
“Yeah, I guess,” you shrug, still focusing on the ice-cream.
“I’ll help you, okay? I have some connections, it’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” you sigh with a weak smile.
“Okay, now onto the next thing, what did that scumbag Vincent do?”
Bianca has never been a big fan of your… who was even Vincent? You never agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, just acted like it, but every time you tried to bring it up he just dodged it. And because having someone was more than having no one, you went with it and stayed quiet. But lately things have been rockier and you’ve had enough.
“He… He sent me a text with a picture that was definitely not meant for me.”
“What?” she gasps. “What did he send?”
“A picture of a lingerie set and the text said he can’t wait to see me in it. The set was for a woman who is the size of my arm, B.”
You almost fainted in the kitchen section when you saw it, had to hide behind one of the displays to pull yourself together and not have a meltdown in the middle of Ikea. You had to wait until your lunch break to call him and question what it was about, it turned into a screaming match and at the end he just saved his ass by saying you were never exclusive so it’s not cheating.
Then you told him to go fuck himself and all of his side bitches and ended the call. Two hours later you also quit your job, so it’s a miracle you’re not crying like a baby right now.
“Fucking hell, I always knew he was a pig. But you’re better off without him, he never appreciated you enough.” Bianca circles an arm around your shoulders as she brings you closer to her and you lean into her, spooning the rest of the ice-cream into your mouth.
“I think he always had an issue with my looks,” you mumble.
“Because he is a fucking assturd, that’s his issue,” Bianca scoffs and the way she says assturd always gets to you, so you can’t help, but laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with your looks, you look fucking sexy, don’t let an idiot make you think otherwise.”
“Maybe I should go on a diet again. Last time I lost a few pounds, so…” Placing the empty bowl to the coffee table guilt washes over you for eating the ice-cream.
“Fuck no! There’s no diet in this house!” Bianca protests. “You know what? We’ll go for a pamper day tomorrow and then the day after we’ll start to work on your business. Update your portfolio, I already have a few people in mind who would be open to hiring you.”
“I don’t want to put you into extra work, B. You have enough work at the firm.”
“It’s not work, and you’re not putting me into anything. I offered it so just take it. Alright, now let’s watch a movie to cheer you up and never talk about Ike or Vincent again.”
You know Bianca has connections in circles that fall way out of your league. She’d done all kinds of hostess works during college and she made an advantage out of them for herself, networking and connecting with the right people, building herself relationships in fields you can only dream of stepping foot into. She’s been going to business dinners and high end bars with people that hold the kind of power a normal person can’t even imagine. She has dragged you to some outings as well, mostly where drinking was included and whenever she mentioned the name of the places your eyes fell out of their sockets.
“B, I cannot pay for a night there, I would end up just drinking tap water in the restroom!” you protested, but she just rolled her eyes.
“We are not paying a penny. Everything is covered, we’re gonna be guests!”
And that’s exactly what happened. Your money remained in your purse while the drinks just kept coming and coming. During these occasions you got to see what she’s like around these men. It was always obvious they saw her as just an eye candy and nothing more, a pretty woman they can walk in with and earn jealous glances and they probably never even realized how smart she really is, working at an all women law firm. Whenever business talk started and she could chip in once legal topics were touched, she impressed them all with her knowledge and she knew they would be calling her soon, willing to pay any amount just to have her work with them.
Bianca is naturally confident and the kind of woman every man stares at when she walks into a room. But she never makes other women feel less, what’s more, she can go absolutely feral when someone treats a woman in her presence less just because they don’t find her that pretty or charming.
One time, when you were freshmen in college you were out at a bar near campus. A guy came up to the two of you and very obviously tried to flirt with Bianca, completely ignoring your presence. He didn’t last more than five minutes before she grilled him so badly he walked away without a single word, never even glancing her way for the rest of the night.
So when she told you about this “friend” of hers who might be interested in your work, you knew it would be some prestigious businessman, one of the big fish, but now as you’re nearing the office building that towers above most of the city’s other skyscrapers, you can feel your stomach churning. This is not just a big fish, this might be a whole shark and you might not survive a meeting with him after all.
Walking into the lobby you’re met with a modern design, it’s spacious and minimalistic, but also kind of welcoming, makes you want to linger around longer. You approach the front desk where a woman with a headset smiles at you, her makeup and outfit absolutely spotless and suddenly you feel underdressed compared to her.
“Good morning, how can I help you?” she asks in a nice, warm tone.
“Hi, I-I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Styles?” you tell her, already cursing yourself out for making it sound like a question, as if she knew why you were here.
“May I ask your name, please?” she turns to the computer, her fingers already typing away on the keypad.
“It’s Y/N Y/L/N.”
She hums, her eyes glued to the screen, the smile never leaving her features. A few more clicks and she turns back to you.
“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Styles will see you in a few minutes, would you be so kind and go to the 78th floor? They will be already waiting for you. Elevators are on your right,” she instructs, gesturing towards the three elevators.
“Thank you,” you nod breathing out the words before making your way to the elevators.
People come and go, you’re not the only one waiting at the elevators, but you’re definitely the odd one out. The blue midi dress Bianca urged you to wear is out of your comfort zone and you feel like it’s tighter around your curves than what’s considered classy. You paired it with a white blazer you haven’t worn in ages, but it’s the most business-looking piece you own. The women around you seem to be wearing outfits that cost about three times more than yours, designer purses and ankle-breaking high heels appear to be the normal around here while you’re wearing flats, because you simply don’t put yourself through the torture of forcing your feet into heels.
And the cherry on top? The massive folder you brought your portfolio in is anything but professional with the colorful fruits printed all over it, strawberries, watermelons and cherries are floating around on it. You swore you had a simple black one somewhere in your desk at home, but you failed to actually find it and this one was the only one that wasn’t used to the point that it was threatening to fall apart. You thought you could play it off, but seeing everyone around you know you wish you chose one of the beaten-up folders instead.
On the way up the elevator stops three times before you reach the 78th floor and stepping out you’re immediately met with a woman who could easily be the clone of the one at the front desk downstairs. She is just as spotless and perfect as she was, her smiling lips are painted red and so plump, you wonder if they are even real.
“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N! Mr. Styles will see you in a second, would you like to have a coffee or tea while you wait?” she asks, walking you over to a waiting area with comfortable looking couches and massive paintings on the walls.
“Uh, no thank you, I’m good,” you shoot her a shy smile and she nods before walking back to her desk near the elevators.
Pursing your lips you look around and decide to drop your bag and folder to one of the couches before taking a better look at the paintings. With your arms folded over your chest you squint your eyes looking at the first one, trying to make out what it’s supposed to be picturing.
All of them seem extremely abstract, minimal color schemes to fit the design of the office and while they look sophisticated and expensive, you’re still looking for the meaning behind the patterns. You get so into the decoding that you start tilting your head to the sides, a frown etched over your face and you don’t even realize when someone joins you in your examination.
“I think they look like birds,” a male voice with a heavy British accent speaks up behind you, making you jump, your heart racing in your chest as you turn around with wide eyes and finding yourself facing the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.
He is tall, broad shoulders and a muscular build paired with a charming smile that’s already making it hard for you to think straight. The fitted suit he is wearing must be designer and the massive rings adorning his fingers are also subtle reminders of his wealth. His appearance is oozing confidence and power, there’s no doubt he knows what he is doing and he is good at it too.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles softly at your reaction. “I’m Harry Styles and you must be Y/N Y/L/N, right?”
Holding out a hand he smiles at you warmly as you slip yours into his, the touch of his palm sending a shiver down your spine. He’s got a firm hold, but not the kind with which someone would try to dominate you. It’s more like a reflection of his strong personality.
“Yes I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Styles,” you manage to speak up despite your awe, though your voice sounded thinner and weaker than you intended it to be.
“Please, call me just Harry,” he asks you, his hand letting yours go and you love how his words are dripping from his accent. “Follow me into my office and we can get down to business,” he gestures towards the door and nodding you gather your stuff from the couch, rushing after him while trying to get your thoughts straight so you don’t make a complete fool out of yourself during this meeting.
His office matches the rest of the building, it’s modern and clean in every way, one full wall covered with floor-to-ceiling windows, gifting you with an incredible view of the city.
“Please, take a seat,” he gestures towards the couch and armchairs with a coffee table in the left side of the room instead of approaching his desk. You opt to sit on one end of the couch, not sure where he’ll sit, and after dropping your bag next to you, you place the folder onto the coffee table, trying not to cringe at how ridiculous it looks compared to basically everything in the room.
“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks and you see him standing by what seems like mini bar, it’s got that typical crystal set wit the amber colored liquid in it that very much appears to be whiskey and your eyes involuntarily wander over to the clock on the wall, checking that it’s ten in the morning and he’s offering you alcohol. Harry catches your reaction and lets out a chuckle, opening the built-in mini fridge underneath that’s got all kinds of non-alcoholic drinks as well.
“I know it’s too early for whiskey, I’ve got other choices as well.”
“I’m good, thank you,” you breathe out a chuckle, shaking your head. Nodding he grabs himself a bottle of water and pours some into a glass before walking over to join you, deciding to sit on the other end of the couch.
“Thank you so much for coming in, the last few designers I connected with could only squeeze me in weeks later,” he chuckles and taking a sip from the water he sets the glass down on the table before placing an ankle over his knee, giving you his undivided attention.
“My schedule is not that full at the moment,” you clear your throat and what you meant by that is that you’re free all the time. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Lucky for me, I guess,” he smirks, his eyes wandering over to the folder and you expect him to comment on it, but he just keeps smiling before nodding. “So, where should we start?”
“Um, I brought my portfolio, I know Bianca suggested me without anything to show, so I thought you might want to see some of my works,” you explain, taking the folder from the table and laying it to your lap you open and start roaming through, trying to figure out what to show him first. “I have some digital plans I’ve done and some actual ones that I was able to create. I don’t know how much B told you, but I used to work at Ikea.”
Just as you say it out loud you regret it, your previous job at Ikea does not sound too prestigious and respected, but now you can’t take it back. Clearing your throat you hand him the booklet that has your digital works, seemingly he didn’t have a problem with your slip about Ikea, so you just move on.
“I like to try myself out in different styles, though of course I have favorites.”
Harry starts to flip through the booklet, taking his time examining the pictures in it before glancing up at you for a moment.
“And what are your favorites?”
“I’m… I’m a fan of everything vintage. My taste is more of a maximalist, if we want to categorize it, I like mixing different styles and being creative.”
Interior design is truly your passion. You chose this as your career because it’s the only thing you see yourself doing even decades later and you always wanted a job that was also kind of a hobby as well.
You don’t notice it, but Harry is watching you in awe as you talk so openly about your work. It’s rare he sees someone be so passionate and in love with what brings them money and seeing you be that person is like a breath of fresh air.
“And do you have a favorite project?” he asks and he doesn’t miss the shine in your eyes as you nod with a shy smile and pull out another booklet. You flip through it until you find the section that’s dedicated to your parents’ weekend house you worked on a few years ago. Handing it over to Harry he doesn’t even need to ask you to tell him more about it.
“Growing up we spent almost every summer here. My mother inherited it and my parents decided to renovate it fully a few years ago. I wanted it to keep its charm and all the memories we have, but also get it into shape.”
“Do you have any photos of what it looked like before?” he asks and suddenly you realize it’s something you should have included in the portfolio. Harry catches how your face falls and somehow reads your expression perfectly. “I wasn’t expecting it to be included, don’t worry. I’m just curious about what parts you kept.”
“I have a few on my phone,” you breathe out, pulling your phone out of your bag. Frantically swiping back you find some old photographs from your childhood, you digitized them for your an anniversary gift for your parents last year, now they come in handy.
Without a second thought you scoot closer to him on the couch and show him the screen where you swipe through the handful of photos.
“I convinced my mom to keep the hardwood floors and the wallpapers needed to be changed, but I managed to hunt down the exact same design, so it’s new but also old,” you smile, you’re pretty proud of it, took you weeks to find it and you drove to the next state to get it yourself. “We kept a lot of the furniture in the living room, I just gave them a little makeover and I kept almost everything in the same place as before.”
The pictures also feature you and your brother as kids, as well as your parents’ younger version. Though you’ve changed quite a lot throughout the years, people always tell you how easy it is to recognize you in older photos. Harry notices as well. The last one you’re showing is of the back porch and you’re sitting on the stairs, your hair is a mess and you’re wearing a yellow sundress, one you loved wearing at the time as much as possible. You have an ice-cream in your hand and some of it is smudged around your mouth as you smile at the camera. Faintly, but you remember this day and the moment your mother snapped this particular picture. It was the last day of summer and she tried to get your mood up with the ice-cream so you wouldn’t be too blue about going home in the morning.
“I assume that’s you, right?” Harry asks, pointing at your younger self on the screen.
“Yes,” you let out an airy chuckle.
“The house looked incredible before, but I truly love what you did with it too,” he then continues, switching back to business. “I can see why it’s your favorite project.”
“Thank you,” you reply, your cheeks heating up from the compliment.
The two of you go over some more projects, Harry seems to be interested in anything and everything you say, he is impressed by what you’re showing him and as the minutes go by you slowly loosen up in his presence.
“So, what do you think?” you ask, when you get to the end of your portfolio, booklets and pictures splattered over the coffee table in front of you.
“I love what you showed me and I think that Bianca did not lie when she told me you’re the best I could find,” he smiles at you with that charm you’ve been feeling ever since you laid your eyes on him. “I had plenty of questions, now I assume you might want to ask me a few.”
“Well, B didn’t tell me much about the project you want to work on. Can you tell a bit more about that?”
“Of course. I just bought a new home and learning from my past experience it might be a better idea to furnish it with someone who knows what they’re doing,” he says with a smile that definitely hides a story, but you only have guesses what it meant. “It’s completely bare, I only have a few things I want to bring with me from my current place.”
“Do you have a budget?” you ask, and grabbing your notepad from your bag you start scribbling notes down. Harry smiles as he shakes his head no.
“No budget. Don’t worry about the money.”
Your hand that’s holding the pen stops in motion as you glance up at him, making sure you heard that right before crossing over the word “budget” in your notes.
“I have a few ideas, but I’m open to basically anything and judging from what you showed me, I know I would like anything you come up with,” he smiles. Standing up he walks over to his desk and awakening his laptop he clicks a few times before glancing up at you. “Y/N, if you’re free, I would love to give you the project.”
It surprises you. how fast he decided and didn’t even ask for time to think about it and hear out other designers. He can see the shock on your face and walking back he sits on the couch again.
“I love what you showed me, I can tell you’d take it seriously and put your heart into it. There’s nothing else I need, Y/N. I’ve only met two designers at this point and neither of them caught my attention like you did. I don’t want to waste my and your time. So, if you’re available, I’m open to start whenever you’re free.”
“I uhh–I’m definitely available and I’d be honored to take the project, Mr–erm, Harry.”
“Great, then I’ll handle the documentation, if you’re fine with that and we can meet for a more in-depth meeting, I assume you have more questions for me.”
“Yeah, I do. And it’s perfectly fine by me.”
“Amazing. As much as I would love to stretch this meeting longer, I have a call in a few minutes, I’m very sorry. But my assistant will get in contact with you about the rest.”
Nodding you quickly gather your portfolio and stuff it back into the folder in a frenzy, not wanting to make Harry late in any way, though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. As you stand you hold the folder to your chest and follow Harry towards the door.
“Thank you so much for your time, it was a pleasure and I can’t wait to see you again,” he smiles at you as he opens the door for you and walks you out to the elevators. “If I’m correct you live with Bianca, right?”
“Yes, we share an apartment,” you nod.
“Well, when you get home and meet her, please thank her for bringing us together. It’s not the first time she helped me out and she always has a solution for me.”
“She is just that good,” you chuckle in agreement. The elevator arrives and the doors slide open.
“Thank you again, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” Reaching into his suit jacket’s inner pocket he pulls out a business card and hands it over to you. “Call me if you have any questions, anytime.”
“Thank you,” you nod, slipping the card into your bag.
“Have a nice day, Y/N,” he calls after you as you walk into the elevator and turning around you face him one last time.
“You too, Harry,” you breathe out as the doors close and you’re taken down.
When Harry said you’d meet soon to go over your further questions you imagined that you’d have to come into his office again. Yet, now you’re just about to meet him at his current place, it’s six in the evening, definitely after business hours, so you’re a bit thrown off by it.
His current home is not far from the office building and of course, it’s just as luxurious as you expected and you can only imagine where he is moving from here.
The doorman greets you with a bright smile and when you say you’re here to see Harry, he doesn’t question who you are, just walks you over to the elevators and pushes the button for the 45th floor. Harry must have told him he was expecting a guest and for some reason it fills you with excitement, just the thought of Harry talking about you.
The elevator takes you up so fast, it’s like you teleported to his floor and when the doors slide open you’re met with a hall with two doors. Just as you step out the door on the right opens and Harry appears, no suit, just a pair of simple jeans and a black t-shirt that bares his tattooed arm you couldn’t see last time. It’s like a whole different version of him, but the warm smile he flashes you ensures he is the same man you met a few days ago.
“Y/N, hi! Come on in!” he invites you inside, holding the door open.
“Hi, thank you,” you return the smile and walking past him, you enter his private space.
It’s a modern looking, spacious apartment with a similarly amazing view of the city as his office, lots of big windows, a simple, but luxurious looking interior design, and it makes you think about what he said about his current place and how it was furnished and designed.
“Thank you for being so flexible about the time, I just simply could not fit in another meeting during the day and since I thought you might want to see the things I want to bring with myself, this seemed to be the best solution,” he explains as the two of you walk further into the apartment. It’s spotless and tidy, he definitely keeps his home organized, or has someone to do it for him. “Do you want a drink maybe? It’s after business hours, so it could be alcoholic, right?” he chuckles and you follow him into the open concept kitchen.
“Just maybe a water, please,” you smile. It’s not that you don’t drink, you just don’t trust yourself when drinking, especially around Harry.
“Alright, a water coming right away,” he nods, smirking as he opens the massive fridge. “Could you find a parking spot somewhere near? I forgot to tell you to use the garage, I have a few extra spots.”
“Oh, I don’t have a car,” you tell him and he gives you a surprised look. “I usually take the subway.”
“You’re not planning to go home by that as well, right? It’s gonna be dark out there.”
“I don’t have many other choices, I can’t really finance a cab drive every time I need to be somewhere.”
He grabs a bottled water and just nods to himself, though you can see the gears turning in his head. He pours some water into a glass and hands it to you, before suggesting to take a seat in the living room.
“Is this the interior design you did?” you ask, taking a look around. It’s not what you think would suit him, but it’s not as bad as he made it appear to be.
“Oh, no. It’s… I shared this place with my ex-girlfriend,” he tells you and your ears perk up at the personal detail he just shared.
“Ah, I see,” you hum, taking a sip from your water, pretending not to be dying to know more about him.
“The design was redone by her, so it’s all her style. We broke up a few months ago and neither of us wants to stay here. She moved out already and I’m staying just until the new place is being finished.”
“You didn’t have a saying in the design?”
“Not really. I mostly didn’t have the time to care about it and she willingly took the project into her hands. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately I don’t have any photos of the before,” he adds with a cheeky smile.
Following some chit-chatting you get down to business. You have tons of questions for Harry and he answers them all willingly. He also shows you the floorplan of the new place, arranging another meeting already so you can check it out in real life.
Hours pass by and the picture gets clearer with each crumb of information you learn about him. The project now definitely has some stronger points you can lean onto when you’ll build up the whole plan. Time flies and the next time you look at your phone to check how long you can stay without feeling like you overstayed your welcome, you realize it’s past eleven.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you for this long,” you snap out of your comfort.
“You did not bother, it didn’t even feel like work,” he chuckles.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile sheepishly as you start packing your stuff. “Can I use the restroom before I leave?”
“Of course. First door on the right down the hallway,” he instructs you.
Quickly finishing your business you take a moment to smooth out the wrinkles on your clothes and fix your hair before walking back out. Harry is now standing with his phone in hands, smiling when he looks up at you.
“Alright, I’ll head out then,” you exhale, grabbing your stuff from the couch.
“I ordered you a car already.”
“What?” you ask with wide eyes.
“I can’t just let you go home alone so late. Please, I insist!”
“Harry, you don’t have to–”
“Yeah, but I certainly want to. It’ll be here in a few minutes, I’ll walk you down.”
“Okay,” you nod, accepting defeat as the two of you walk out to the elevators. “At least let me pay for the ride.”
“Absolutely no way.”
The way he said that leaves no place for protesting so you keep your mouth shut and just go with it.
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Y/N. First amount will be forwarded to you by the end of the week, okay?” he says as the two of you arrive at the downstairs lobby of the building.
“Oh, yeah, that’s perfectly fine,” you nod. The amount Harry insisted on paying you when you negotiated the costs earlier is about three times of what you originally thought about and he didn’t budge when you offered to lower it. He said your time and knowledge are worth this money and he would feel bad if he didn’t pay the right amount.
He also told you the first third of the payment would be completed by the end of the week when you sign the papers and it seems like he’ll definitely keep his word.
A car parks down right in front of the building as you step outside, Harry opening the door for you like a true gentleman.
“Thank you for everything, Y/N. Have a great night and I’ll see you soon,” he smiles as you’re about to get into the car.
“Thank you too. See you soon,” you nod with a shy smile. He shuts the door when you’re inside and he waves after you once the driver starts driving to the address you just told him.
Over the course of the next week you spend every waking moment working on this project. Your room turns into a full time office as well as 80% of the dining table. The remaining space is just enough so Bianca can eat her breakfast in the morning while you’re already working before she even leaves.
You want everything to be perfect, down to the smallest bit. The trust Harry has placed in you is something you simply can’t afford to waste, this is the base of your business. If he likes your work he might recommend you to some of his friends or partners and you can build a clientele then.
You’re more nervous when you present your plan to Harry than you were at your last college exam. You made a board, several digital designs, floorplans and basically anything that could help him visualize what you had in mind.
He loves it. All of it.
When you ask him if there’s anything he would want to change he can’t bring a thing up.
“I’m blown away, Y/N. It’s perfect, really,” he tells you and it feels like every weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders is now lifted and you can finally breathe.
So then starts the actual, physical work.
Harry is willing to pay any amount to get things done as fast as possible, so you get him the best team to do the needed construction work in his new penthouse. In just a couple of days you get the base of the home to the level where you can start with the designing as well.
It’s a Friday evening when you’re still at the penthouse, working on arranging some decoration on the massive built-in shelves in the living room, the workers have already finished for the day so it’s just you in your yoga pants and an oversized shirt that’s one of your most comfortable ones, definitely not an outfit you’d normally meet with anyone besides Bianca, probably.
So when you hear the elevator doors open, signaling that someone has arrived, you jump in surprise. With a vase in one hand and your printed digital design of the shelving in the other you watch Harry walk in, carrying a takeout bag along with his laptop bag.
“Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I would check out how things are going,” he smiles as you put the vase down and shove the print back into the stack on the coffee table that arrived just earlier that day.
“It’s your house, you can come and go whenever you want,” you tell him, wiping your palms into your pants as he walks up to you. He must have come from work, he’s wearing his usual fitted suit in royal blue this time, and he looks ridiculously good, as always. You kind of want to dig yourself a hole, looking like this next to him, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all as he places the bag to the coffee table, looking around with an excited smirk adorning his handsome features.
“I could give you a tour,” you offer, folding your arms over your chest.
“Do you want me to see it half-done?”
“Well… my original plan was to show it to you when it’s fully done,” you admit and that’s all he needed.
“Alright, then I’ll just stay right here. I brought food, have you eaten?”
“Uh, I had a sandwich in the afternoon…”
“Then I’ll take it as a no,” he smiles, moving over to the massive couch that’s already put together in the living room area, luckily.
“Harry, there’s no need–” you try to protest, but as always, he cuts you off again.
“No need, but I want to. Come on, I haven’t been able to consult with you properly all week, so we can catch up.”
He brought some Italian, and it seems like he was expecting to find you here, because he brought food enough for two people. Since there aren’t any plates or cutlery yet, you eat straight from the box with the wooden forks the restaurant packed for the order.
“You’re working extremely fast, Y/N. I’m surprised I’m seeing this much progress to be honest,” he comments, digging into his pasta.
“You said you want it done as soon as possible,” you shrug.
“When do you think you’ll be done with everything?”
Taking a deep breath you look around as you go over everything that needs to be finished. There’s not much left, but some of the furniture will be delivered only next week, so you have to wait for those.
“I would say… next weekend.” Harry’s eyebrows rise at your estimation and then it’s followed by a nod of appreciation.
“Y/N, you impress me every day. But I don’t want you to overwork yourself, it’s past eight in the evening and you’re still here. No one is expecting you to be home on time?”
“Only Bianca,” you admit with a chuckle. “But she is a workaholic too, so she might not even notice my absence.”
“Just your roommate? No dates?” You can’t help but scoff at his question.
“Exactly. No dates.”
Ever since you parted ways with Vincent you haven’t been in the mood to think about getting yourself out to the dating field and then you didn’t even have time to think about it, putting every free hour of your life into this project.
“That sounded like you had some not too pleasant experiences,” he hums, peeking at you curiously.
“Let’s just say, that a certain guy ruined my willingness to enter the dating scene again for a while.”
“Well, I apologize in the name of every male, then,” he says, hoping to earn at least a tiny smile, and it happens, so he feels like he succeeded. “So, I never asked how you know Bianca.”
“We went to the same high school. She somehow befriended me, don’t ask me how it happened and then we ended up going to the same college, moved in together and we haven’t been able to let go of each other since then.”
“So you have quite the history together, huh?”
“I guess you could say that,” you nod with a chuckle. “How about you?”
“How do I know Bianca?”
“Yeah.”
You never asked her this detail, but now you definitely want to know if they have hooked up before, because then you’ll force yourself to never even think about Harry outside of business thoughts. You respect the Girl Code.
“We met at a conference about two years ago. Somehow got into a conversation and I was in need of some legal help around that time, so she recommended me her boss. We kept in touch, I often go to their firm when I need the help of some outsiders, since I have my own legal team at the company, but it’s nice to get some fresh people involved in some projects.”
“Ah, I see,” you nod, processing the information.
“Not what you expected to hear?” he asks with a smirk as he tilts his head.
“Well, it’s just that some of B’s connections… she tends to make them in unorthodox ways,” you try to explain, in no way meaning to judge your friend.
“We never hooked up, if that’s what you meant by that,” he chuckles and heat crawls up your neck to your cheeks and ears. “We’re strictly friends, sometimes business partners. That’s it.”
“Alright, I have no judgment at all.”
He smiles before returning his attention to his food. You eat in silence for a while before he breaks it next.
“So, do you have a next project after this one?”
“Erm, no, not really,” you admit. You feel like you can be honest with him at this point and drop the professional act. “You are actually my first client, so I’m not quite popular just yet.”
“I’m your first client?” he asks with genuine shock on his face.
“Yeah, I recently quit my job at Ikea. I was a designer for the displays, you know, those fake rooms and little apartments you see on the first floor.”
“You worked on those? You designed them?”
“Yes,” you nod with a soft chuckle. “But I knew I didn’t want to do it for too long and then I had an argument with my boss and got fed up so I quit before coming up with a plan. Bianca said she’d help me out and that’s when you came into the picture.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you just started it. You work so fast and efficiently, I mean it’s obvious you haven’t been doing this for a decade, but you didn’t come off as a rookie.”
This is the best compliment he could give you. You feared possible clients wouldn’t take you seriously because you were just starting the business, but if Harry thought that upon meeting you, it seems like you had nothing to worry about.
“So, no next project then?”
“Not yet,” you shake your head.
“Well… I have news for you then.”
Your eyes widen as you look up at him, a cheeky grin stretched across his face as he places his food box down to the table to give you his undivided attention, so you do the same, unsure what he’s about to tell you.
“If you agree to do it, I want you to design the new office we’re opening soon for the marketing department. They are moving into a separate building, because we plan to eventually turn it into an independent agency, and I have discussed it with the board and we would love to give the project to you.”
“What?!” you breathe out in disbelief. “I-I don’t—that’s… Harry, you don’t have to do it just because I don’t have anything else after this.”
“Up until a minute ago I didn’t know that,” he points out with a warm smile. “And I actually had no power over the decision. I presented your portfolio along with two others I chose, no names, no nothing, they just voted on which one they liked the best. Yours won.”
You stare back at him, total loss of words as you wrap your head around the news you just received. Doing the penthouse was already a good start, but designing a whole office building would skyrocket you into more and more projects, there’s no doubt. And you didn’t even have to ask for Harry’s help, he did it voluntarily.
Touched by the gesture, you can’t stop yourself before you throw your arms around him and hug him tight. Your reaction surprises him at first, but a moment later he wraps his arms around you as well, pulling you close to him.
Then you realize that it might have crossed a line, so you pull back, clearing your throat.
“Sorry… I just… thank you, Harry. Really,” you breathe out, fixing yourself up quickly.
“No need to thank me. You’re good at what you do, it’s a fact.”
You stop yourself from thanking him over and over again, but your look says it all. And that’s enough for Harry.
You finish the penthouse in time and have the big reveal just like you planned it. Harry’s jaw is on the floor the whole time you walk him through his new home, showing him every tiny detail you put into the project with him on your mind.
It’s perfect from the bottom to the top and though Harry was already impressed by your work, now he is completely blown and he keeps telling you that as you wrap up the paperwork to end the project, however you both know it’s not the end of your work together, because meetings about the office building are starting next week.
“What are you doing tonight, Y/N?” he asks when you’re just about to leave.
“Uh, probably just gonna watch a movie with Bianca,” you chuckle, shrugging.
“Would you two like to join me and some of my friends for some drinks? I have a table reserved at my favorite place and I would love to thank you for your work here.”
“No need to thank, you already paid for it,” you add chuckling.
“But this deserves more,” he gestures around, his eyes trailing to the massive windows watching over the city, one of your favorite thing about the place, even though you had nothing to do with that. “And Bianca deserves a thank you for recommending you to me too. Please, be my guests for this one night.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, unable to resist his charm. You’re convinced he could make you do anything with just a few looks and a smile.
“Great,” he beams and pulls you into a hug when you reach the elevator. “I’ll text you the details and I’ll see you tonight!”
“Bye, Harry,” you nod as the two of you part and you step into the elevator, staring at each other until the doors slide closed.
Just a couple of hours later you find yourself at a bar you would probably never go to if it was your choice, it’s obviously way too high end to you, but Harry made it clear no one is spending money tonight except him.
Bianca made you wear a dress you’ve been keeping in your closet for probably years. You never felt the confidence to wear it, finding it too revealing for your appearance, but tonight you changed your mind and took the risk.
Walking into the bar you throw one last look at your reflection in the mirrors lining the walls, the dress wraps around your body way tighter than what you’re used to, making it impossible to hide your true figure. For a moment you second guess your choice and contemplate going back home and changing, but it’s too late for that. At least your cleavage looks good, thanks to your best bra you chose to wear for tonight.
Harry spots you from across the place and his lips part as he watches you approach him, barely even noticing Bianca next to you, which is quite a rare occurrence. You’re not typically the one to be in the center of attention, but you definitely are when it comes to Harry.
“Wow, ladies, you both look amazing!” he compliments, kissing Bianca’s cheeks in a friendly manner before he turns to you and pulls you into a hug for your surprise. The way his hand slides over your spine and down to the small of your back makes your knees turn into jelly, but you manage to stay stood.
“Thank you,” you breathe out as you let go of each other. He is wearing another pair of fitted pants and a white shirt without a jacket this time, the first few buttons undone on his shirt, revealing part of his chest and the necklace you’ve caught a glimpse of before.
You join the circle of his friends, everyone seems incredibly friendly and open and you try your best to remember the names. Drinks keep coming whenever you finish one, but you keep it slow and steady, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself. Throughout the night you catch Harry’s eyes lingering on you several times and you just nervously smile at him before averting your gaze.
“Someone is into you,” Bianca teases you leaning closer so only you can hear her words.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you shake your head, taking the straw of your drink into your mouth and sipping on it to keep yourself busy. Why would he be into you when there are several prettier and thinner women around. It’s hard for you to believe that someone would took interest in you when Bianca is sitting right next to you.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back,” you let B know as you stand from the table and head to the restrooms.
When you’re washing your hand, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror. The outfit makes you feel exposed and you can’t help but spot everything you’d want to change on yourself. Think about how much better you’d look in it if you lost a few pounds, if your arms were thinner and your tummy flatter.
You force yourself to stop before you lose all of your confidence, so turning away from your reflection you head out to return to the table and numb your thoughts with the conversation going on and preferably some more drinks.
As you walk past the bar you almost trip and fall when you spot a familiar face sitting on one of the stools. Vincent is nursing a drink just a few feet away from you, but he’s not alone. There’s a tall, thin woman next to him, one hand on the counter, the other one on his thigh, suggestively scratching her nails over the inside of it.
It’s obvious she is either the woman he intended to send the picture to or maybe another hookup he kept while dating you. Your heart drops seeing the way he looks at her, because you never saw a hunger this kind in his eyes when you were with him. He’s almost devouring her with just his looks and it feels like you’re being stabbed in the chest.
You want to leave, from the bar, from the face of Earth before he notices you, but you’re out of luck. Vincent spots you, a surprised look on his face as you look away in an instant and try to escape, only to bump against a hard, muscular chest.
“Everything alright?” Harry’s hand come to your arms to steady you. He saw you look upset and wanted to check in on you, but now as he sees your expression from up close he is even more worried.
“Yeah, I mean no—I just…” you stutter and before you could give him an explanation, Vincent walks up to the two of you.
“Y/N?”
“Fuck,” you mumble before turning to face him. “Vin, hi!”
“I saw you, but thought it’s not quite a place you like to come to, so I wasn’t sure.”
“You’re right, it’s not my usual place, so I guess that’s why you’re here with someone,” you snicker back, surprising not just Vincent, but yourself with the venom your tone carried. Harry doesn’t need more to realize who he is facing right now, the anger crawling up his spine is hard to control as he thinks about what Vincent could possibly do to hurt you.
But he manages to put it aside and out of the blue he takes the lead. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you to his side as he flashes a sweet, sugarcoated smile at Vincent.
“I think we haven’t had the chance to meet yet. I’m Harry,” he holds out a hand for him and Vincent is seemingly shocked by the scene, his eyes keep snapping to Harry’s hold on your waist.
“Um, Vincent. Are you two together or something?”
You open your mouth, but Harry beats you with the answer.
“Yes. And I’m the luckiest guy in the city she chose me,” he says, eyes meeting yours as the words roll off his tongue. “Seems like you know her well, so then you know she is the absolute best, right?”
There’s something passive aggressive in his tone, something threatening as he stares back at Vincent who for sure can feel how far behind he is compared to Harry.
The woman from the bar walks over to Vincent and wraps around him like a clingy koala bear, eyeing you with a challenging look, she doesn’t even try to introduce herself.
“I’m getting bored, babe,” she whines to Vincent and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Not gonna keep you up longer, we have some celebrating to do too,” Harry smiles at them, squeezing you to his side. “It was nice meeting you two, whatever your names are,” he shrugs as he simply pulls you away and your eyes widen at his last comment, but don’t say a word, just walk away with him.
But instead of returning to the table he walks you out to back of the place where people usually disappear to have a smoke. When he finds a peaceful corner, he turns to face you.
“It was him, right?”
“Yes,” you nod, feeling the tears stinging the back of your eyes.
“What did he do exactly?”
“He… He sent me a picture of the lingerie he bought for some other girl, maybe that was her, I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t meant for me, because… Because the sizing definitely couldn’t fit me.”
It feels like you’re dipping yourself in acid, admitting it all to Harry and talking about your insecurities to him. And now that you started, you want to unload more of what you’ve been keeping bottled inside.
“I mean, I would choose her over me too. He would be stupid to settle with me when he can get women like her,” you chuckle bitterly, and it’s the last straw for Harry.
“That’s it, you’re coming home with me, we’re gonna get things straight in that pretty head of yours,” he says and taking your hand he pulls you back inside.
It all happens so fast, Harry tells the rest of the group that the two of you are leaving and before you could even get a word out, you’re sitting in his car, on your way to his place.
When you arrive he helps you out of the car, his hand wrapping around yours and he doesn’t let go as you cross the lobby of the building, marching up to the elevator. The way up to the penthouse is silent, but only verbally. Harry’s hand remains wrapped around yours, his thumb keeps brushing over the back of your hand, squeezing it from time to time. You can’t tell what’s gonna happen now, not after the evening and the shocking turn it took, but you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else now.
The elevator arrives and the doors slide open, Harry’s familiar home welcomes you. The lights are out and you expect him to turn them on, but he just pulls you inside in the dark, towards the windows that are now showing you the incredible night sky of the city. Without a word Harry walks you to the window and then stops, turning you towards the sight, standing behind you.
“Tell me what you see, Y/N,” he then says, his voice coming from right next to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I see the city. The buildings, the lights…” you softly answer, eyes glued to the picture in front of you, while your mind keeps circling back to his close proximity.
“Do you find it beautiful?”
“Yes,” you nod shortly and involuntarily lean back, your backside meeting his chest, but instead of pulling away you stay. What’s more, his hands find your waist, the warm touch of his palms reminding you of what it felt like when he pulled you into his hold when you were talking to Vincent.
“Now take a better look. Do you find anything you don’t like in this sight?”
“Yes,” you answer again.
“Tell me, what are these things?” You feel his nose brushing against your hair and you almost instantly forget his question biting back a moan, his front still pressed against your back.
“I see… I see chimneys and messy rooftops… some graffiti…” It’s hard to focus, but you keep your eyes on the skyline and try to find more things that aren’t that beautiful. “I see into a few messy rooms through the windows…”
“It’s not perfect, right?” he hums, his fingers gently stroking your waist as he talks.
“No,” you shake your head.
“But it’s still beautiful, something you admire and love looking at, right, Y/N?”
As the words roll off his tongue you realize what it’s about, your breath hitching as your heart starts racing. Harry notices the change in you and his hands squeeze your waist to earn your attention back.
“Yes,” you breathe out, barely more than just a whisper.
“Stay right here,” he tells you and a moment later he disappears from behind you, your body instantly aching to feel his closeness again. You hear his footsteps move away from you and a few seconds later he turns all the lights on. The sudden brightness turns the windows into mirrors, the city lights fading as the inside of the penthouse appears in front of you mirrored, along with your standing figure. Your eyes spot Harry walking back to you until he takes his previous spot, but this time he keeps his hands to himself as his gaze catches yours in the mirror.
“You’re beautiful, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on and I want you to see this beauty too. Look at yourself,” he tells you and you force your focus to move to yourself. “Do you see things on yourself that you don’t like?”
“Yes,” you answer right away.
“But that doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful. All those things make you who you are and when you see it as a whole, you shouldn’t see them, only the beauty.”
Your lips tremble and tears are dwelling in your eyes. No one has ever said anything like this to you and even if someone did, you wouldn’t have believed. But with Harry, you know he meant every single word. You’ve been battling with your looks for so long, beating yourself up for not being pretty enough, thin enough, attractive enough, making yourself believe that no one would ever look at you like you’ve seen other girls being looked at. The envy, jealousy and hurt you had to deal with your whole life never let you see yourself as Harry made you.
“Hey,” he softly murmurs, turning you around when he sees your teary eyes. He takes your face in his palms, worried he might have said something that hurt you. “Talk to me, did I say something that upset you?”
“No,” you breathe out, your hands coming up to wrap around his wrists as you finally look up into his eyes. “I just… You meant it?”
“All of it,” he answers without hesitation. “Do you want to know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks with a tiny, cheeky smile as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs, his hands remain holding your face.
“At your office?”
“Yeah. I walked out and you were standing there, staring at the art on the wall, your head tilted as you were trying to make out the painting. You wore that dress and I just took a few moments, staring at you, because I was in awe. I thought… I thought wow! This woman could easily be the end of me and she hasn’t even looked at me!”
You can’t help but laugh at how he recalls his thoughts and the sound of it is making his heart soar.
“That first time, I had to try so hard to stay professional and not make it obvious how attracted I was to you. The way you talked about renovating your parents’ weekend house, I was drinking up every word, you talked so passionately and it just made me fall for you even more.”
“I was so fucking nervous,” you admit, leaning into his touch.
“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. “I made you nervous?” he asks with a hint of pride in his words.
“Of course,” you nod. “I saw you and then… I wanted to be professional so you’d choose me, but I was also very into you at the same time.”
“Really? So you wouldn’t have minded if I flirted with you?”
“No, but I would have probably turned into a giggling little girl,” you admit grinning.
“I’m sure I would have loved it,” he hums and leaning closer he nudges his nose against yours, your whole body buzzing to be touched and worshipped by him or at least you need him to kiss you before you pass out from excitement. “I’m sorry your ex made you upset tonight, it’s not what I planned.”
“He’s not my ex,” you correct him.
“How come?”
“He never wanted to be in a committed relationship with me, I guess I was never good enough for him,” you tell him with a shrug, your hands moving from his wrists to his waist where you fist his shirt, wrinkling the expensive fabric, but you couldn’t care less.
Harry doesn’t like this answer. At all. The thought of you with Vincent was driving him crazy all evening, but now that he knows he treated you like this is just the last straw. Vincent is lucky he is not around, because Harry wouldn’t be able to hold himself back and not punch him in the face.
Growling, he slides his hands from your cheeks to your neck, tilting your head up by the chin with his thumbs so you’re staring right up at him. Your lips part and Harry’s eyes are mesmerized by the view of having you like this, in his hold.
“Let me show you what you deserve, baby,” he breathes out before the dam breaks.
Hunger takes over him and he presses his lips against yours as if his life depended on it. His kiss is demanding and heated, but you’re returning it with just as much enthusiasm, the feel of his perfect lips against yours seals the weeks worth of pining that’s behind you. Like two puzzle pieces, you click perfectly and the moan that bubbles from your chest when his tongue pushes past your lips destroys the last bits of Harry’s self-control.
His hands move from your neck, fingers brushing against the swell of your breasts before they reach your waist and dig into the soft flesh, pulling you flush against him while he keeps kissing you, claiming your lips as his.
One hand remains on your waist, while the other moves to your ass and he wastes no time taking a handful of it, squeezing and feeling the curve of it up shamelessly. He loves how it fits perfectly into his palm, it’s so soft and bounces with every movement.
You circle your arms around his waist, nails scratching his back over the fabric of his shirt and you wish there was nothing between your palm and his skin. When his lips move down to your jawline, then your throat, kissing and biting you on their way, he starts walking forward, backing you until your backside hits the cold glass of the window. Gasping your back arches and Harry uses the opportunity to bury his face into your breasts, giving in to the desire he felt every time his eyes wandered down to your cleavage in this dress throughout the night. He’s losing his mind, licking, kissing, biting and sucking your exposed skin wherever he can reach, inhaling your sweet scent that was intoxicating enough when he wasn’t this close to you.
The difference between how Harry is all over you and how Vincent treated you when you were intimate is astronomical. Normally your thoughts would be revolving around everything that could go wrong, how you might be looking, your flaws and imperfections that could ruin the experience, but they are now locked and forgotten in the back of your head.
Harry makes you feel so wanted like no one did before. You see the genuine passion and hunger in his eyes, all of it just for you and for once in your life, you feel confident enough to be fully present in the moment.
His right hand moves to your left thigh and he urges you to lift it up, his hold grabbing the back of your knee as his hips press against yours in a whole new and tighter way now, your soaking wet pussy rubbing against his thigh in this position.
His lips return to yours, kissing you like it’s been decades since the last time you locked lips, it’s impossible to tell where he ends and where you begin. He loves the feel of your breasts and tummy pressed against him, the way you’re involuntarily rolling your hips to create some friction for your pleasure, how you keep moaning when his hands touch you in a new area. He is convinced he is losing his mind, but if this is the way his life ends, then he’ll go as a happy man.
“You’re fucking perfect, Y/N. Inside and out. Let me show you just how much I love this body of yours! Let me show you your worth!” he begs, his words muffled against your lips, but you understand every single one and they make your core throb even more.
“Please!” is all you manage to get out, your own desires taking control over your mind and body.
Harry wastes no time. Pulling back he moves you away from the window just enough so he can reach the zipper of your dress at the back, the fabric instantly loosening around your form before falling to the floor. He steps back, his eyes roaming your body and you’ve never felt more exposed and vulnerable, people you’ve been with usually didn’t take the time to even take a good look at you and you got used to the rush that usually comes with sex. But Ha
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WC:4,270
Harry doesn’t fucking know what’s gotten him in such an aggy and irritated mood. His palms are sweaty and he doesn’t know why. He tells himself it’s because Y/N’s never been out before and that she and Mike have been gone for almost three hours.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust either of them; he trusts Mike with his life and he trusts that Y/N won’t try something stupid. Ideally, Harry would have liked to have been the one to take Y/N out first, maybe to prove something to the people watching his every move, he’s not sure.
Part of him feels a little guilty. He hasn’t seen her for more than five minutes since she moved to New York and he feels a little bit sick. He’s taken her from her family and everything she’s ever known.
or
Harry starts to open up and Y/N finally leaves the penthouse.
//
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If there was one word to describe what Y/N was feeling right now, it would be shame.
Her situationship with Harry was hardly wrong. They were both single, consenting individuals who came to each other in time of need. Affection and validation, to put it simply. It wasn’t like Harry was cheating on someone else with her, yet Y/N felt her shoulders slug her form because it felt like she was the other woman. The secret getaway you receive on the weekends; the ghost of a kiss tempting you on the side.
In a way, Y/N felt as though she was cockblocking Harry and his girl, Sloan. As though Y/N was the sole reason why they couldn’t get together; be together, because doing so meant having to break her heart. It was as if there was an unspoken word that they had given her the opportunity to move on first before essentially rubbing it in her face. Y/N knew it was all in good faith, even if it was not intentional. In fact, she kind of appreciated it–except there was no chance that Y/N would be able to detach herself from Harry anytime soon. Believe her, she had tried multiple times. With each time, Y/N only found more characteristics about him that she admired; that she loved with an inkling bit of annoyance because she wasn’t supposed to like him more. But somehow, her heart found a way to override the logical listings of her brain and overlooked each blaring alarm to stop falling deeper and to start climbing out of the hole she had managed to get herself in.
Sure, Harry was oblivious to her feelings–still perceiving her emotions as overemphasized showcases of her caring nature. Her feelings were friendly, her touches were friendly. It was all friendly. The way she dropped everything at a mere second’s notice because she’s always got Harry’s back was only amicable. Besides, Y/N couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because it was what they had agreed on some months ago. When all of this had started, it wasn’t what you could call ‘heat of the moment’ because the pair of them continued on with little awkwardness. After that passionate night that had occurred between them, there wasn’t any avoidance–uncertainty, sure–but Harry and Y/N were so close that talking about it didn’t make a dent in their relationship.
So, they made ‘rules’; boundaries and limitations that not only included the sexual aspect of their budding relationship but it also encompassed the confines of their emotional capacities. It wasn’t like they weren’t allowed to catch feelings–they both recognized that controlling that realm was a lost cause because, well, you can’t really control them. It would just be preferable if they didn’t. And amongst it all, Harry and Y/N were both confident that these said hypotheticalfeelings had no possibilities of showcasing themselves. It was easy.
See, feelings made things complicated. For Y/N, it made her soft. It wasn’t a bad thing, per se. But what were once rough corners were now rounded edges that shifted her personality. Being with Harry–as a friend–made her see things from a new perspective; a way in which she saw the good intentions of people that attempted to get to know her. Y/N learned to smile at the small victories instead of scowling at how little she had accomplished. She began to view the glass as being half full and each millilitre as a stepping-off point to achieve a new height–no matter the difference. It was refreshing for her. Y/N rarely thought about her thought process before Harry had come along with a set of eyes that had her comparing the two of them.
Y/N remembered the time when she baked chocolate chip cookies. It seemed simple enough to pull off; she was never really a baker in her years of living but Y/N figured that by paying meticulous attention to the instructions, there was no way that she could get it wrong. And well, Y/N had managed to get it wrong right off the bat. She had forgotten to grab a bag of sugar specific to the recipe so she was forced to use the one sitting in her pantry. The end result wasn’t that bad either. In fact, it was quite delicious but it wasn’t what Y/N was trying to pull off.
With such a mundane moment like that, Y/N would have usually beat herself up for not double-checking everything. But Harry was so enthusiastic about her cookies despite the mishap, going as far as complimenting her with a grin after taking a bite. He was genuine, of course. Harry had said something along with the words ‘now, you know two recipes!’. Y/N laughed at his statement; it was so stupid and silly but damn if it wasn’t true. She just didn’t think of it that way.
See, feelings made things complicated. It muddled your mind and sparked a touch of idealized optimism as though nothing could go wrong. If there were any, it would be faced with calm positivity that encouraged someone that they could fix it with no problem. It was nice at times but now, it was really fucking annoying.
Y/N would find herself scoffing sometimes at how foolish she was being. How she wouldn’t even think of blocking a portion of her day just in case he’d call. She would spend hours at a time convincing herself that she had nothing to do anyway, so that if the time Harry ever did think of her as a first choice for once; she’d be there.
Always available, never too busy. For him, at least.
__
It was the third day this week that Harry saw Y/N at her place.
It was ‘the usual’ for them; to see each other often. Aside from their relationships, they were one of each other’s closest friends. So here Harry was, splayed on the couch of her apartment with a movie playing on the television screen. Y/N attempted to remember the title and figure out the plot about twenty minutes ago but she had abandoned that ship since then. Something gnawed from deep inside her when the realization struck that Harry truly was only there for a movie, a chat, and some food.
He hadn’t even progressed from his position of closing in the distance between the two of them. Usually, Harry would encourage Y/N to lay her legs on his lap, his fingers tracing outlines of whatever image he could think of on her skin. That affection was missing. Y/N could tell because there was a waft of cold air bristling on her side, reminding her that there was a physical distance between their bodies; a sheer contrast from how this is usually projected.
It wouldn’t have bothered her if it was the first night she took note of it. Y/N would never force Harry to do anything he didn’t want. But when the second night came with no difference from before, Y/N had begun to feel an oozing feeling sprouting from her chest. Her heart dropped to her stomach, reacting to the acidity by making her feel sickly. Now, the third night was what confirmed everything for her. It was done. They were over.
“When were you gonna tell me?’
The soundtrack of the movie changed to an ominous one. How fitting, Y/N thought. Harry seemed to freeze in place, his eyes staying glued to the scene in front of him. Though, the stuttering of fingers told Y/N that he had heard her loud and clear.
“What?” He replied, inhaling deeply before shifting his body to face her. Y/N mirrored his actions.
Y/N didn’t even know what to say, didn’t know how to word it. So many thoughts ran through her mind, some more than others. She didn’t know if she was allowed to ask them. If someone were to come up to her and ask ‘do you know who you are to him?’. Y/N would say no because, at this moment, she represented nothing of relevance.
Y/N didn’t know who she was to him anymore.
“That this…” She gestured between them, the distance biting her with the emphasis, “This thing between us–it’s over isn’t it?”
Harry sighed, biting his lip. A nervous tick. Y/N hated that she knew that.
“I was going to tell you,”
“When?” Y/N pushed, “There is no time when you’re going to tell me without making me feel humiliated as I am now,”
It was true. Y/N felt like melting on the floor to avoid confrontation but at the same time, she really needed this to bring her peace.
“I-I didn’t know when but I was. Believe me, darling.”
She scoffed, “Okay, let’s say I believe you. What happened, then?”
Harry furrowed his brows at Y/N’s tone. His posture became defensive, more guarded.
“Why wouldn’t you believe me? I’ve been nothing but honest to you,”
“Have you? What about Sloan? Have you been honest to me about her?” Y/N raised her voice a tad bit. She was angry and frustrated, and Harry was looking at her was a crumpled face that resembled confusion.
“What–I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me. Frankly, I don’t appreciate it. I’ve been truthful with my intentions with Sloan and with you,”
Y/N stood up abruptly just as Harry let the last few words slip from his mouth. The television was too loud, causing her to swiftly grasp the remote and jam her thumb into the power button to turn it off. Y/N stared at Harry for a brief second before turning away from him, hiding her face away from his view. Why was she yelling at him?
She couldn’t upright say that she was jealous of Sloan; how she had harboured Harry’s romantic feelings towards her. Y/N couldn’t point out that it was the third night in a row that Harry had refused to touch her. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if Harry was in a relationship with someone that wasn’ther.
“Y/N?” A gentle touch was placed on her shoulder as Harry approached her with caution. “Why are you crying?”
Y/N didn’t even notice tears brimming her eyes and wetting her cheeks.
She sniffled, “You’re so stupid,”
Y/N shook her head, staring up at his discombobulated face. “You’re so fucking stupid. You don’t even know,”
“What? Y/N, you’re not making any sense right now. I promise you that I have never lied to you,” He pleaded with Y/N to make her believe him.
He didn’t need to do that. She did. It was just another stab in the heart to hear and see him being so patient with her. Y/N hated herself for letting things go as far as they did.
“I know that. I’m just… crying like a baby because it’s not me that you want. It’s her, isn’t it? You love her. You told me that you loved her after I told you how I felt. Do you remember that? God, I hope you don’t,” She muttered the last part under her breath, “You were kissing me, touching me, being with me–but it’s her that you want.”
“Y/N…” Harry began, words caught in his throat as her assumptions strangled him in a place of ultimatum.
Y/N took steps back away from him, now favouring the distance that was between them only minutes prior. She should have done this ages ago; detach and separate.
“You should leave. I want you to leave,” Y/N held her head high after a moment of hesitance.
“We should talk about this,”
“No!” Y/N yelped, halting Harry in place before he got any closer to her. He was magnetic and she knew she didn’t stand a chance. “Please, leave. There’s–there’s nothing to say. I caught feelings when we established that this was. . only platonic. I fucked up. It wasn’t you; you don’t need to apologize. We don’t need to talk about it. You just. . you go be with her. I’ll call you when–if–I’m ready,”
Y/N winced at the numerous voice cracks that littered her monologue. Could she be any more pathetic right now? With that being said, Y/N felt her breathing get a little easier. There was no one to blame but her. He needed to know that for the sake of herself.
Harry mauled over what Y/N had said, his legs stuttering as he contemplated stepping forward or stepping back. He stepped away, nodding his head. He slowly gathered his things sprawled on the coffee table as if to give Y/N a chance to change her mind and let them discuss things. She didn’t.
He was walking towards the hallway leading to the door, lethargically as if the life had been drained out of him. Harry sighed just as the door handle was in his grip. He shook his head, a ghost of a sad smile splintering his face. Y/N wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t watching him closely.
Description - in which y/n and harry are loving fans of one another and it develops into late night talking
A/N - welcome to the first full-length fic from the harryshouse universe! we are kicking it off with a bang with LNT! i hope you enjoy this and please feel free to give feedback or donate to my kofi for a quick coffee!
warnings: i may have overdone it on the fluff ;)
You’d been a fan of Harry Styles for a good couple of years now.
It was something about the way he loved himself and the people around him, that was so foreign to you, that enticed you and made you adore him. It also was a bonus how pretty he is and how well sculpted that jawline was.
The first time that you knew about him was through a friend playing you a song of his, you recall it being ‘Carolina’ and you thought instantly that he was talented. There was no way a man could sing that could and not be attractive too, and you were right. As soon as you saw a photo of him you immediately knew he was somebody special.
Harry inspired you to create your YouTube channel and blog page. It stemmed from something he once said in an interview about living to be happy, not successful. They were two different things to him and you adored that mentality, so you attempted to adopt it the best you could. So your channel started with you posting montages of your days or weeks and then as viewers grew you started to do more sit-down and talk videos.
You shouted towards the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. You had already firmly situated yourself in bed, with the tv set up ready to listen to Harry’s new album.
It was weird to think that this day was finally here. It was even weirder to admit that the Fine Line era was over and Harry’s House was about to have its turn. Harry had been making this album since March of 2020 and it was almost a relief to be only 2 minutes away from getting to hear it.
