H.styles // Fic Recs Masterlist

LOVE ON TOUR: THE GROUPIE MASTERLIST 

a collection of blurbs about groupie!reader

in no particular order:

I – you’re his groupie…

II – how it all started 

III – he asks to cuddle

IV – groupie goes on a date, harry is jealous

V – anal fingering

VI – what happens after groupie’s date

VII – harry with someone else

VIII – dom!harry and anal play

IX – groupie is harry’s favourite

X – why is groupie called miss fabian

XI – groupie and harry spend time together

XII – groupie is on her period, cuddling ensues

XIII – groupie and harry try exhibitionism 

XIV – harry defends miss groupie

XV – groupie accidentally posts the concert on her story

XVI – harry’s reaction when someone flirts with groupie

XVII – groupie thinks gemma is a girlfriend

XVIII – they get their shit together

XIX – groupie gets hurt in the past

XX – harry meets up with brooke again

XXI – harry and groupie are confused

XXII – harry and groupie get it together at last

XXIII – fab meets harry’s band officially 

main masterlist

!!!!

Harry Styles lockscreens (photography by Collier Schorr)

UNCASVILLE

Prompt (from kofi commission): “Maybe a little blurb of HSLOT and reader on a day off exploring the city.”

warning: smut

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 - available through my kofi page!

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

-

Lucy really - like really couldn’t believe her own eyes right now.

She had saved up her money to take a train into Uncasville for Love on Tour which was happening tomorrow and she was spending the day exploring the city.

She really didn’t know how the odds were in her favor to this extent.

She had just gotten a seat at a tiny pizzeria in the city - stuffed in a back corner because she was by herself when the booth next to her is seated.

And it is none other than Harry fucking Styles and his stunning wife sitting across from him - the long seat was shared and she could have reached out and touched YN.

Harry had removed the hood of his hoodie then his beanie, then his sunglasses before handing them to his wife to put in her bag.

They were both dressed extremely casual.

Harry is a puffer jacket, black hoodie, and grey athletic shoes and YN in a familiar hoodie with the words DAMN. that she recognizes as her husband’s with cropped black leggings and nikes. **

Lucy is desperately trying not to stare as she sips on her water and she can’t believe her hands are shaking - they’re right there.

“Will you rub my thighs when we get home? They’re so fucking sore from that workout,” YN complains as soon as she plops down in the booth - her foot coming to rest on Harry’s thigh under the table.

His large hand, Lucy notices there are no rings right now except for his wedding band, squeezes her ankle and thumbs at her as he glances over the menu.

And when she hears his voice for the first time in person, holy shit, it’s deep and raspy but somehow smooth as silk with his accent.

“When have I ever said no to rubbin’ you down?” He smirks in a way that reminds Lucy of a schoolboy who just said a dirty joke.

“That one time in Glasglow,” She raises her eyebrow teasingly, making it seem like it was an inside joke which it definitely was because Harry blushes.

“I tried to get t’get it up, I was bloody smashed,” He defends, smirking micheviously when he pinches her and she jerks her foot off with a scowl, “Don’t forget I still helped you out plenty.”

“Mm, don’t recall,” YN obviously lies, biting back a smile as she scans over the menu, “What did I get here last time?”

“Y’got tha’ spinach pizza and we shared those garlic knots,” Harry hums, pouring them both water from the pitcher provided.

Jesus, he’s probably one of the most famous men on this earth with world tours and movies and companies but he still remembers what his wife ordered a dingy restaurant in Connecticut?

“Oh yeah, that was so good. Will you split those with me again?” She asks, putting back down the menu and sipping her water - well, chugging it really until it’s gone.

“Of course. I told you tha’ y’need to drink more water while we work out,” Harry frowns, pushing his glass towards her for her to sip on.

And it was just that, they were so domestic and so obviously in love - he had heart eyes for her and he was so attentive.

After they order, Harry’s phone buzzes and he huffs before he fishes it out to answer, “Wha’ Jeff?”

YN happens to glance over as she admires the art on the wall and Lucy quickly distracts herself with her book that she has open in front of her.

“No. I told y’that I’m not workin’ today. YN and I just want to-“

He’s cut off by whatever his manager is babbling about with a furrowed brow, his hand coming up to roll his bottom lip with frustration.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine, yeah,” Harry mutters hurriedly trying to get off the phone, “Alright, s’fine. As long as I’m home by five. Bye.”

YN looks back to her husband, “What did he just talk you into?”

“Meeting with Sony about the new album,” He sighs, running a hand through his curly locks, “Said I should be out by four.”

“Okay,” She agree calmly, nudging her foot against his with reassurance, “It’s fine.”

“I love you,” Harry replies with a small smile, secret and just for her, “Best partner I could ask for, so good t’me.”

Lucy resists the urge to pull out her phone to snap a picture or record their conversation - she was better than those intrusive fans.

They deserved privacy from the world like everyone else, sure she was eavesdropping but she promises herself that she won’t share this experience with anyone.

When their food comes, they both chow down on the pizza and garlic bread - talking animatedly throughout their meal.

She learns that Sarah and Mitch have had their baby on tour the whole time and Harry loves playing with him.

That Anne was coming to all the Los Angeles shows and staying at their house with them - planning a surprise party for her belated birthday.

That YN was flying out later in the month to support Gemma at a clothing campaign she’s doing with a British brand.

Then Harry shoves the last piece towards her, groaning, “Eat tha’, m’so full.”

For how lean and in shape Harry is, Lucy was surprised by how much he could eat and was quite impressed - boys and their metabolisms.

“I can’t, I’m stuffed,” She shakes her head, pushing it back towards him with a heavy exhale as she pats her stomach.

“M’gonna stuff you,” Harry mutters with that same wolfish expression before he stacks their plates and finishes his water.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” YN purses her lips, reaching in her bag for his beanie and sunglasses.

“Oh, I’ll keep it, darlin’,” Harry gruffs with a low, bravado and a dark look at her even when she rolls her eyes.

And the Harry is handing the waitress his black American Express before signing the bill with a large tip.

A fan approaches with her cell phone out and in the couples face, “Excuse me? Can we take a picture? I’m going to the concert tomorrow!”

Lucy can automatically see them both tense up, opposite from how relaxed they were a moment beforehand.

Harry plasters on a smile but he kindly shakes his head and says, “Not today, sorry.”

The girl visible gets upset, frowning as she remarks that she’s his biggest fan and that she’s spent so much money on his merch.

“Okay, just one,” Harry replies tersely, he seemingly agrees because it’s easier than engaging in a fight with the ‘fan’.

Then the girl scampers of with a prize picture on her phone, already sharing it to social media most likely, with not care that she disrespected his boundaries.

“You’re okay,” YN murmurs as they gather their things, she steps over to him and tugs him into a hug which he welcomes fully, “Tonight, just me and you at the apartment - movies and snacks. Just us.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I need tha’. Just me n’ you,” Harry agrees a bit happier and he tilts his wife’s jaw up for a kiss before squeezing her one more time.

Lucy knows and has seen pap/fan pictures and videos of them being affectionate- remembers how bitter fan girls always say their relationship is exaggerated or even fake.

Well, there is absolutely no way they could fake the love that they have for each other, it was obvious to Lucy how in love they were.

She watches as they leaves, doesn’t miss how Harry lands a smack on her bum before intertwining their hands.

Lucy sticks to her words, never tells anyone but her mom about what she witnessed in that little pizzeria in Uncasville .

-

As for Harry and YN, when he arrives at the meeting headquarters, he’s bombarded by paparazzi but scurries inside.

YN - back at their hotel room, orders all his favorite snacks, sets up all the fluffy blankets and pillows on the living room couch for when he comes home.

She can tracks his movements on her phone so when he’s heading home, she jumps in the shower because she knows he will join her.

Which he does, as soon as he finds her, he strips out of all of his clothes - leaving his vintage bomber jacket and jeans on the floor as he crowds into her despite how massive the shower is.

He hugs her from behind and lays his forehead on the back of her head, “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” YN replies, putting her hands over his on her belly, “How was the meeting?”

“Stressful,” Harry sighs, pulling her back until she pressed up against his hard chest, “Already talking about the third album’s tour dates. S’just so much considering tha’ I’ve only toured the US for this one and have so many more dates in other countries.”

“Not surprised,” She replies with an edge of irritation, they always stretched him so fucking thin.

“Hey, hey darlin’,” Harry coos softly, kissing her hair, “As long as I have y’with me, m’good. S’gonna be okay, lovie. Don’t get all pouty on me.”

“I hate sharing you. I have to share you nearly every night with tens of thousands of people,” YN mumbles, turning around to smush her cheek against his peck, chest against his.

Harry can’t help but twitch at the feeling of her pert nipples on his skin but he chuckles deeply, “Darlin’, I come home to you, yeah? Every night, m’in our bed. I got a ring on m’finger letting everyone know who I belong to. S’just me and you, has been since we were sixteen.”

YN begins to pepper kisses on his neck as he massages at the little bit of pudge he can never get rid of on his hips.

“Sweetheart,” He groans loudly when her hand dips lower to grasp him in her grip and give him a few tight tugs, “How could y’think I belong to anyone else? S’your cock, baby.”

“Mmm, it is,” She agrees demurely, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot beneath his crown before dragging over his drippy slit.

“Yeah, right like tha’,” Harry babbles, pushing into her hand to get a rhythm going - pants coming out from his plump lips as his eyes watch in rapt.

“Only I get you like this,” She states, almost to herself, as she sucks a gnarly hickey onto his chest near his sparrows - just to prove a point.

“Just you, you’re so good - fuck,” He hisses when she rolls his balls expertly with her other hand before he’s snapping out of it and shoving her off.

“Harry, what-“ She begins to ask, confused but she’s spun around once again and he pushes her against the cold tile - shushing her squeak at the coldness.

“Gonna let me ‘ave it?” His sex voice is in full force as his lips brush against her ear - she can feel how hard he is as he rubs up against her bum.

“Please, H,” YN whines impatiently, spreading her legs a bit further and pushing back until he snugs inbetween her cheeks.

“Yeah, s’okay. Let me give it to you,” Harry murmurs as he bends his knees a bit and grips her waist to position her until he’s slipping into her warm heat.

“Yes, shit,” She huffs as he begins a delicious pace that isn’t to fast but hard, enough that she has to focus on keeping her footing.

“Tha’s it. It’s all yours, take it, darlin’,” He encourages as he slams in with determination, hand reaching around to hold onto her breast.

“Baby,” YN moans loudly, echoing over the pounding water and echos throughout the room, “Fuck, that’s good.”

“God, y’so sexy. How’d I fuckin’ get you?” Harry hisses, he tugs her leg up and really starts fucking in until she’s screaming with pleasure as she orgasms.

Then he’s following behind with a few more directed thrusts until he’s spilling inside her - she can feel his ribcage expanding and deflating with each heavy pant of air.

“Mm, cuddle time now?” He asks innocently, like he wasn’t just spewing filth and fucking her brains out a minute ago.

“Y’in charge of scrubbing me since you insist on coming in me, then we can watch that new movie on Netflix, okay?”

Harry smiles boyishly, nuzzling her damp cheek.

“Y’act like it’s a hardship to wash up m’pretty lil’ wife. C’mon, spread ‘em.”

-

They’re halfway through the movie when YN pops her head up off Harry’s chest, “Can we go to that ice cream place down the street?”

Harry, who was admittedly dozing off, rasps out, “Y’want to go right now?”

“Please? They have fudge mint chocolate chip,” She gives him the best pouty lips that has him groaning but still agreeing.

“I’m only sayin’ yes because y’put out earlier,” He jokes as he tugs on his trainers and then his puffer jacket.

“You would have taken me if I hadn’t,” YN points out as she tugs on her own shoes.

He tries to conceal his fond smile but fails, “You’re right, still give you everything you wanted if you didn’t.”

-

Cameron was hallucinating, she was sure of it because when she steps in Big Scoops with her parents after a basketball game.

Harry fucking Styles and his wife are standing in front of him.

Holy shit.

She was trying to contain her fangirling as they stand right in front of her in line to get ice cream, like…what?

Cameron also completely regrets not turning in her chemistry essay because that earned her an F which in turn had her parents take away her phone.

She couldn’t document this moment.

YN and Harry both looked tired, Harry was standing behind his wife with his arms around her shoulders in a bear hug.

“Do you think they’ll give you a discount or a freebie?” YN asks her husband in a sweet, teasing tone.

“Y’have said that joke for the last eleven years and it hasn’t gotten any funnier,” He chuckles but it was with affection and tone like he found it funny but didn’t want to admit it.

“M’sleepy,” YN murmurs, a yawn following the statement - she turns around in his arms and hugs him, arms around his middle.

Harry waddles them forward when the line moves and she giggles cutely into his chest.

They were just so fucking cute.

“We can sleep in tomorrow,” Harry reminds her, quietly like he knows people might be listening to them, “Sound good, pet?”

“Mm,” She agrees, turning to order when it’s their turn and then Harry does - he steps forward to hand them his card and Cameron sees him sneak a fifty in the tip jar.

The teens behind the counter ask for a group picture which Harry agrees to but Cameron notices that the genuine, happy smile that he had for his wife contorts into a more tense, forced one.

She couldn’t really blame him. He was just trying to get a late night snack with his spouse before his show the next day.

Cameron notices that when they thank him and separate that YN rubs his back in reassurance and guides him out of the shop protectively.

She hears her murmur, “I know. Let’s go home, bub.”

She decides not to blast the encounter all over social media because tonight made him seem so much more human.

-

Lucy finds it to be such an odd experience, seeing Harry on stage the next night because of how she saw him the day before.

He was such a bright light on stage as he shimmied and danced like he was having them time of his life up there.

She is towards the back of the pit, when the show begins and YN trails out with Jeff and Tommy - Lucy makes eye contact with YN.

And to her utter surprise, YN beckons her over as Harry transitions into Only Angel, his wife yells over the music.

“Were you at the pizza shop yesterday?” YN asks curiously, leaning over the barricade.

Lucy is surprised by the fact that YN remembered her (she did have very distinct thick framed glasses and her hair was dyed electric blue so…).

She nods, starstruck, YN was even more beautiful close-up and her outfit fit her body perfectly, big engagement ring shining in the lights. ***(pretend the color matches his outfit).

“I just want to thank you for not blasting our business all over the internet, truly, thank you,” YN replies sincerely, a soft smile made Lucy feel welcome and less nervous.

Lucy had to take a moment to find her voice, “Y-you’re welcome, you guys deserve privacy just like the rest of us.”

YN turns to say something to Jeff that Lucy cannot hear and then she faces her again with an envelope in her hand.

“Two pit tickets, for tomorrow nights show,” YN informs her as she hands the shaking girl the item - ignoring all the other fans recording their interaction.

“Wha- are you?” Lucy stutters out in absolute disbelief - she had to be dreaming or something, instead she puts her foot in her mouth and chokes out, “Can I give you a hug?”

YN doesn’t think twice before she’s shooing off the security guards and reaching out to give her a tight hug.

Lucy pulls back, she happens to glance at the stage where Harry is staring at them intently - attempting to seem engaged in singing but he is watching protectively to make sure everything’s okay.

When YN and him make eye contact, she rolls her eyes at his watchfulness which makes him give her a dimpley smile and blow them a kiss.

Yeah, Lucy just won at life.

Sometime treating people with kindness really does pay off.

TO BE SO LONELY

A/N: i think it's easily the juiciest smut i've written. just woke up and i was like "oh yeah, this is gonna be good" and needed to write it so... enjoy!

PAIRING: Harry X Reader

WARNINGS: smut, dom/sub stuff, edging, mouth fucking, a bit of degrading kink? idk im really bad at these tags lol

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

masterlist

“Thank you so much, Y/N!” the fans say in unison as the last photo is taken and you make sure everyone got what they wanted.

“Of course. Have a great time tonight!” you smile at them, knowing that they will be down in the pit later tonight at the concert. They told you all about how excited they are to finally see Harry perform and you assured them that he is just as excited to be on stage.

“She is so nice,” one of the shorter girls whispers to her friends, standing already a few feet away, but you still heard her, a smile tugging at your lips. You’ve been trying to build up a great relationship with Harry’s fans knowing well they are so significant in his life. Unlike his previous exes, you might have had it a bit easier than them, having been friends for a long time with Harry before you finally took it to the next level. Now you’ve been together for four years and even though there will always be people feeling bitter about you, most of the fans approve of your relationship, seeing how happy you are making each other.

You wave at them one last time, ready to continue your walk back to the hotel when one of them calls after you again.

“Yeah?” you turn around, not at all irritated that they are holding you up. It’s just one tiny gesture from you, but they will probably always remember meeting you, you’d rather give them a nice experience.

“Do you know why he doesn’t play To Be So Lonely anymore?” the brunette girl asks shyly and you breathe out. It’s come up several times since tour started, but you genuinely have no idea why the song never made it to the set list.

“I wish I could tell,” you tell them with an apologetic smile.

“You could convince him to play it!” the tallest of them chimes in.

“You guys really like to call him an arrogant son of a bitch, huh?” you smirk, making them laugh. “I’ll… ask him, okay? But I can’t promise anything.”

“It would be so great, because we will be here for night two as well,” the brunette muses. You can tell they are huge fans, queuing for two nights in a row, that’s dedication, not even mentioning the money they invested into it.

“Give me an Instagram name, I’ll let you know what he said,” you sigh, giving in. They excitedly get back around you as they decide whose username to give you. Putting it into your notes you bid them your final goodbye and head back to the hotel.

It’s only noon, so Harry is still lounging in the hotel room. Arriving you find him only in a pair of shorts, lying across the bed, scrolling on his phone. His head shoots up when he hears the door open and close, already smiling when you come into his vision.

“Hello, love. Had a nice walk?” he hums, following you with his eyes as you drop your bag and kick your shoes off, changing them to the fluffy slippers the hotel gave you.

“Yeah, you should have really come,” you smile back, thinking how the girls would have lost their shit if you were with Harry when they met you. But Harry felt a little too tired, wanted to get some more rest before tonight’s show. All the traveling has been taking a toll on him, though he wouldn’t admit it, he is too proud for that, but you notice the way he is out like a light almost every night, turning into a pile of bricks when his head finally hits the pillow. Okay, not instantly, he surely makes sure to fulfill his boyfriend duties more than enough. And now as you see him lying in bed shirtless, you just can’t stop your eyes from wandering around his naked chest. It’s always like the first time over and over again, he never fails to stun you with just… existing.

Putting his phone aside he reaches out, grabbing the air to show you he wants you there with him. Without batting an eye, you shimmy yourself out of your tight jeans to make you comfortable, leaving you in only your tour merch shirt as you climb to bed, Harry’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you on top of him as he kisses your cheek sloppily.

“Missed me?” you grin at him, his hands moving up and down your back, reaching lower with each stroke, his fingers brushing over your bum until he finally just grabs it shamelessly.

“Always,” he smirks, lifting his head so your lips could meet.

Walking into the room you had the intention to ask him about To Be So Lonely, but quite honestly, when you feel his hands slide under the fabric of your panties and turning you over he gets on top of you, the song definitely slips your mind… you’ll ask him later, right?

Right.

It’s impossible not to grin as you watch Harry surrounded by all those signs. It’s impressive how they all got together to demand justice for a song. Harry is pretending like he can’t see any of them, but you know it’s hard for him to do so.

These girls really do want to hear that song, why wouldn’t he finally give in? You’ll have to step in. After all, they should get what they want for their money, whether it’s Harry twerking, his naked chest or… a song where they can call him an arrogant son of a bitch.

He is still on his adrenaline rush when you leave the venue, all handsy and touchy, he can’t tear himself off of you, not that you mind it.

“H, stop!” you giggle, when his hand slides under your skirt. His driver, Malcolm has seen and heard enough of the two of you on this tour, doesn’t need any more trauma.

“Sorry,” he growls, but doesn’t seem to actually mean it. Cupping his face you smack a kiss to his lips before patting his chest gently.

“Behave a little.”

He is trying his best, he really does. Keeping his distance as you head up to your room, but as soon as you step inside, the beast is out.

“Harry!” you squeal when he throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bed like a caveman as you hold onto his waist so you don’t fall face first.

“I’m so fucking horny!” he growls and you can’t help but chuckle and smack his ass that just riles him up even more. He throws you to the bed, making you bounce from the action as the sheets wrinkle around you. Climbing on top of you he is quick to attack your lips with his, putting most of his weight on you, a moan slipping through your lips, your legs locking around his waist. But as his mouth travels down your saw and throat, devouring you eagerly, your eyes open and you remember what you were supposed to talk to him about tonight.

“H?” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair. He just hums in response, but doesn’t stop. “Why don’t you just put To Be So Lonely on the setlist?”

He stops, your question clearly surprising him. His head lifts so his hungry green eyes meet yours and you can tell how puzzled he is.

“I’m sorry, did you just ask me about my setlist when I’m trying to get some sexy time?”

You chuckle at his words, nudging his butt with your heels. Pushing himself up to his hands he puts some space between the two of you, but his hips are still pressed against yours.

“I met a few fans today and they were curious why you wouldn’t just play it. They’ve been begging you since the beginning of tour and I know you saw the signs tonight.”

As you speak, you trace his features with the pad of your fingers, when you reach his lips he gently bites on it before kissing it.

“It was just a general, creative decision to leave it out,” he gives you the diplomatic answer, but you know it’s not the truth.

“Okay, so then make another creative decision and put it on the list.”

“Y/N, it’s not that easy to mess with the set list,” he sighs dramatically and you give him a look.

“Uhuh, so you can just randomly sing about a girl dressed as a banana, but can’t put To Be So Lonely on the list beforehand? With time to rehearse and all that?”

Harry growls, his head falling forward to the nook of your neck. A few seconds pass by and no answer comes, but you feel his lips nibbling on your skin, he is trying to avert your attention, but he is not gonna win this.

“H? Why are you so against the song?”

“Because quite frankly, when I wrote it, I didn’t think thousands of women will scream at me at my concerts, calling me an arrogant son of a bitch,” he snaps, giving you a stern look, but you know he is not mad, just a little frustrated that you brought it up when he was trying to get into your pants.

“You can’t be that narcissistic, baby. It’s a great line and… kinda true.”

“Okay, you have the right to call me that, but I would like to keep it that way.”

“It’s not against you. It’s like a joke you share with your fans and they are sad you took it away.”

“They will get over it,” he shrugs, trying to lean down to kiss you, but you move your head out of the way.

“Or you can just give them what they want,” you suggest, giving him the puppy eyes.

“Babe, are you seriously talking about this when I’m literally throbbing for you?” His hips push against you and it’s pretty clear how much he wants you. It’s taking everything in you not to drop the subject and just jump his bones, but… you feel like you owe this to those girls and all his other fans.

“We would be over this if you just told me you’d put it on the list.”

“Not happening,” he shakes his head stubbornly.

“Okay, then…” you push him off of yourself, breaking up the position you’ve been in, his shocked eyes following your movements in disbelief as you stand up from the bed. “Then this is not happening either.”

He stares at you, like you’re a ghost as you fix your shirt and walk over to your suitcase, digging into it aimlessly. You just need to do something so you don’t bend and get back in bed with him. Then you hear his laugh and you dare to peek at him.

“I can’t believe my own fans are cockblocking me!” He is kneeling on the bed, shoulders curled forward as his head hangs low, shaking from side to side with a chuckle. And you can clearly see the outline of his hard cock that makes your thighs shudder.

Folding your arms on your chest you watch him climb off the bed, nearing you but he stops a few feet away, hands on his hips.

“So no sex?”

“Not until you put the song on the list.”

“What if I told you I’ll perform it tomorrow?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you, but you weren’t born yesterday. He is a sneaky arrogant son of a bitch who doesn’t shy away from playing you when sex is on the line.

“Nah, I don’t trust you. You’ll get this,” you say, pointing at your groin, “after I heard you play the song.”

He stares at you for a couple of long moments, probably hoping that you’d break, but it’s not happening, not this time. He then gives up, his head falling back as he growls in irritation.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he mumbles under his breath, heading into the bathroom and you know that the setlist will be longer on night two in Chicago. You won.

Grabbing the doorknob he stops, glancing back at you one last time.

“Babe, I’m going in there and I’m gonna use my own hands. Probably for the first time since last tour,” he informs you, referring back to the time when you spent the most time apart at the beginning of your relationship. The two of you often sought relief on FaceTime, using your own hand, pretending like you were touching each other as your moans travelled through the call across the world. But now you’re in the same room, and he is forced to touch himself. You don’t particularly like the idea, but his ego could use the punch for one time and besides, he’ll get what he deserves tomorrow night if he really plays the song.

“This is your last chance, Y/N,” he warms you, his hand moving to his crotch, palming himself through his pants and your mouth waters, but you keep a straight face.

“Well... to be so lonely…” you sing, grinning back at him, which just earns another grunt from him before he disappears in the bathroom.

He is definitely grumpy when he returns, you can’t tell for sure if he jerked himself off or not, the running water covered any other noise. You take a quick shower too and when you come out, he is out on the balcony, talking to someone on the phone as he leans against the railing. You just get under the covers, making yourself comfortable, listening to his muffled voice through the sliding glass door. Then you hear him get back, moving around the room until the mattress dips under you, his warm body pressing against yours from behind, His hand slides to your stomach, toying with the hem of your sleeping shirt.

“Babe?” he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

“Mmm.”

“Can I just… put it in?” he murmurs and you can feel him grow hard again. Well, if he took care of himself in the shower, he is one horny motherfucker for trying to go at it again. Turning your head to the side you smile at him sweetly.

“You can do more than that tomorrow, after I heard you sing the song.”

You feel him freeze and then sigh, rolling to his back, the warmth of his body disappearing from behind you. Turning around you cuddle to his side and pushing yourself up you smile down at him, proud of yourself for winning this game.

“But I still love you,” you hum, kissing his lips softly. “Do you love me?”

“I guess,” he sighs, but wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him tight as he closes his eyes.

The next morning while Harry is in the bathroom, you search up the girl who gave you her username and send her a quick message that tonight is going to be the night, but keep it a secret so others can be surprised when he plays the song. Macy, as you see on her profile writes you a lengthy reply thanking you for convincing him and ranting how much they love you. It’s sweet and you can’t wait to see the reactions when they finally get what they want.

Harry seems to be holding up his mad act, but you know it won’t last long. He still holds your hand, still makes sure you eat right and still kisses you all the time.

Right before he goes on stage, he pulls you in for one last kiss, but before he pulls back, he leans to your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

“I hope you know your ass will be red when I’m done with you tonight.”

A whimper slips through your lips and you need to clench your thighs together as he gives your ass a light smack, running off to get into that stupid box and get rolled under the stage. You mumble a soft fuck under your breath, but you’re excited to see him go all crazy on you.

The fans finally get what they wanted. When the opening accords of To Be So Lonely fill the arena, they lose their shit and Harry just stands behind his mic, smirking to himself. Of course, they scream that one line at him like there’s no tomorrow and you can’t help but laugh.

You know he is riled up, it’s written all over him and you know you’ll be ruined by the end of the day. But you don’t mind it.

You thought he would at least hold it together until you get back to the hotel, but oh boy, were you wrong! Because as soon as Harry finds you when he is off the stage, you see the fire in his eyes. He runs up to you, grabs your hand and starts pulling you after him to the dressing room.

“Harry, are you—“

You don’t get to finish, he pulls you into the room, slams the door closed and pushes you against it, his lips devouring you right away. His hips strain against yours and you can already feel his hard cock pushed against you.

“You got what you wanted? Are you proud of yourself?” he growls, a hand coming up to grab your jaw, keeping you in place, not that you’d ever push him away. No words come out of your mouth, you just can’t get yourself to talk, not when his other hand is already sliding into your pants, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Answer me when I ask a question,” he grits through his teeth, his fingers pushing on your sensitive bud, making you moan from the sensation.

“Yes! Yes, I got what I wanted,” you choke out when his mouth sucks hard on your skin under your ear, for sure leaving a mark on you.

“Want to know what I want?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, legs turning into jelly as he is still working on your clit. Your panties are flooded, this very short sex ban wasn’t only hard on him. You missed out on the lazy morning sex and you couldn’t get your hands on him when he was parading around in the room in only his underwear.

“I want to fuck you until your legs give up and collapse onto me. I want to show you what you were missing last night.”

You gasp when you’re pulled away from the door and you vaguely process him bringing you to the vanity, helping you up until you’re sitting on the wooden top. He basically rips your shirt off of you, throwing you behind him before his hands start kneading your breasts in the black lacy bra you put on purposely, knowing well it’s one of his favorites.

He licks and bites down your neck and chest, not even bothering to unhook the bra, just tugging on the cups so your breasts spill out for him. Your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct and you grind against him, your chest heaving wildly from the way he sucks on your hardened nipples. You want the bra off though, so reaching behind you unclasp it and throw it to the side, an approving grunt leaving his throat as he keeps leaving marks on your breasts.

You can’t stay still as his mouth moves down on your stomach, his fingers working fast to unbutton your pants. He tugs them off of you easily along with your soaked panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him while he is still wearing his stage outfit, but it seems like he wants it off just as much as you do.

Dragging the suspenders off his shoulders, he moves his hands to tear the shirt open, but you stop him with the remaining of your responsible thoughts.

“No! Lambert will fucking kill you!” you chuckle, reaching up to unbutton the shirt carefully. He just breathes out heavily, letting you undress him as he works on his pants. The slacks pool at his feet by the time you’re done with the buttons and he rids himself of the shirt fast, pushing back between your legs, now only in his underwear.

“Always so thoughtful,” he murmurs, kissing you hard as his fingers dig into your waist, pulling you to the end of the vanity table. “But weren’t so thoughtful when you denied this from me.”

Without warning, two of his fingers push into you, curling inside, sending a shiver down your spine. His name tears out of you loud and clear as you gasp for air while Harry starts pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“Did you enjoy playing with me? Did you like making me suffer?”

“Harry!” you moan, your thighs starting to shake as your orgasm is building up rapidly.

“You were a little brat, you know that? I should punish you for it.”

You want to protest, you want to say you’re sorry, but you just can’t form the words, the only thing that leaves your mouth is his name over and over again. But right when you’re about to cum, he pulls back and all the air gets knocked out of your lungs.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum just yet. Now get on your knees,” he orders and you jump off fast, not even thinking for a second about obeying him. He has full control over you and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You eagerly pull his underwear down, his throbbing, hard cock springing free and your mouth waters at the sight, the head glistening from the precum. But before you could wrap your lips around him, he stops you, making you look up at him confused.

“No, I don’t want you to suck me,” he hums shaking his head, cupping your face in his hands. “I want to fuck that bratty mouth of yours so you know that your words have consequences.”

Fuck, he is so hot! You need to clench your thighs as a moan rips out of you.

“Stay still,” he orders, one hand on the base of his cock as he pushes himself into your warm, wet mouth, a whimper of your name slipping through his pink lips. Then both his hands come to cup your head and he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth.

Putting your hands on his thighs you try to keep as steady as possible, his head reaching the back of your throat every time he pushes into your mouth. Tears are stinging your eyes, but you don’t want him to stop. Looking up you see how much he is enjoying it, how you’re the only one who makes him feel this way and you can almost feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm again. The urge to touch yourself is strong, but you know he would punish you for that, he doesn’t like you touching yourself, unless he asks you to do it, so you just try to breathe and stay still just like he asked.

“Fuck, your mouth is perfect,” he growls, pushing in one last time, your nose touching his pelvis and he keeps himself there for a few heartbeats, until you start gagging. Then he pulls back, his whole dick glistening from your saliva and it’s such an exciting view, one you’ll never have enough of.

He helps you up, your knees are sore, but you couldn’t care less. Kissing you hard his hands squeeze your ass before he turns you around, bending you over the vanity and you push your ass up high instantly.

“And now…” he hums, his hand cupping your ass as he pushes his cock between the cheeks, sliding it back and forth a few times, making you whimper. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night.”

His hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, then he massages it gently before his palm meets the cheek again. Fuck, this feels so good and he is not even inside you yet.

“Harry,” you whine, your upper body pressing against the wooden surface as he keeps kneading your butt with no mercy. Then he bucks his hips back, just enough so his cock now slides between your soaking wet folds and he starts rocking himself against, teasing and edging you.

“What is it? Now you want my cock? You didn’t want it last night?”

“I did! I wanted it!”

“So you just chose to be a brat, letting me use my hands?”

You don’t answer, his tip is nudging at your clit every time he pushes forward and you clench your walls around nothing, you need to feel him inside you or you’ll go nuts.

“Just for your information, I didn’t jerk myself off last night. It was hard to resist, but I didn’t want anything else than your sweet pussy.”

“Then take it. It’s all yours, Harry!” you cry out and yelp again when he smacks your ass again.

“Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never want to play games with me,” he growls, grabbing the base of his cock and finally pushing inside you, both of you gasping from satisfaction. “Fuck, nothing feels like this, baby,” he breathes out, staying motionless for a few seconds, his cock buried balls deep inside you.

Then he grabs your hips and starts pounding into you so hard, your thighs keep hitting against the edge of the table and you need all your energy to keep yourself up. His stamina is impressive, he just gave a whole ass concert and now he is fucking you so hard, as if he’s been training for it his whole life. Fingers digging into your flesh, his hips smacking against your ass every time he thrusts inside you hard and fast.

“Are you close?” he pants and all you can do is nod eagerly. “Don’t cum yet. Don’t cum!”

“Harry! Please!” you beg, almost crying for relief.

“Not yet!” he barks and pulls out of you, the lack of his hardness inside you making you gasp. “Come on, baby. Just a little longer,” he murmurs, pulling you up from the table, he presses a kiss to your forehead and lips as he walks you to the sofa. He turns you to face him and you throw your arms around his neck like a little monkey, you just need to be close to him. He has edged you so close to your orgasm two times, you’re not sure you can take a second.

You hear voices coming from the other side of the door and for a moment you wonder if he locked the door, but when he kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, you forget about it instantly.

His hands find the back of your thighs and he picks you up easily as he sits down, making you straddle him, knees pushing into the soft cushion. His lips melt against yours, a tad bit softer than he has been treating you, but you love both sides of him equally. Strong hands run up and down your naked, sweaty back before one of them moves between the two of you, lining himself up with you and then he pulls you down, his cock filling you up again as you softly gasp against his mouth.

“Ride me. Wanna see you bounce on me,” he tells you.

You feel tired, like not much energy is left in your body, but you nod, mustering up everything you have to obey him. His hands grab onto your waist, guiding you in your first few movements as you roll your hips back and forth, up and down, riding him in his dimly lit dressing room, his thousands of fans still lingering around in the building probably. It excites you, knowing that so many others want him, ache for him, but you’re the only one he wants and needs.

Grabbing onto his broad shoulders you keep up a steady pace, bouncing on him, panting heavily and every time you feel like you’re too tired to continue, you see it in his eyes, the want, the desire, how in awe he is with you, like you’re the only person on this Earth. He leans forward and kisses your throat, collarbones before wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking and biting it to edge your senses.

“H, I’m close,” you moan, pulling his head up so you can kiss him.

“Wanna cum around my cock?”

“Yes! Please!”

He wraps his arms around you as he rises from the sofa and turning the two of you he lays you down, getting on top of you. It’s a small sofa, one of your legs is thrown over the back while the other one falls off of the seating just so he can get between your thighs, but when he starts pounding into you, bottoming out every time you forget about how uncomfortable it is.

“Cum for me. Let me feel your pussy tighten around my cock,” he grunts, kissing your hard, his tongue pushing past your lips.

A few more thrusts and you finally fall over the edge, coming so intensely, you can’t hold a scream back as you drag your nails down his back. You’re seeing stars, gasping for air as he follows you with his own relief, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mine. You’re all mine,” he grunts, so animalistic and raw as his thrusts become slower but even harder, his cock jerking inside you.

“Yes, I’m yours!” you breathe out, holding him tight as he rides the last waves of his orgasm until he comes to a stop, but still remains inside you.

You’re gone, melted into a puddle, barely able to move your limbs, but it feels so good. The thought of getting up from this sofa feels so painful, you just want to stay here, like this forever, even though your back is starting to hurt and your leg is kind of going numb.

You feel Harry’s lips gently kiss your shoulder before he pushes himself, up, lifting his weight off of you and sliding out of you at the same time. You must have whimpered unapprovingly at the feeling, because he kisses your lips softly.

“I know baby. Gonna take care of you,” he murmurs and you hear him move around the room, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

You feel a damp washcloth between your legs, he cleans you up gently not to hurt you since he knows how sensitive you are, especially after a round like this. It hurts to get your leg off of the back of the sofa, but you just need to. Pushing yourself up into a sitting position Harry returns, helping you up and as soon as you’re on your feet, he picks you up bridal style, carrying you to the shower where the water is already running.

You take a nice, hot shower together, Harry washes you with so much care and keeps kissing you murmuring sweet nothings to you. It always amazed you how dominant he can be during sex, but then he turns into this soft bundle of joy, taking good care of you, no matter what you did or said.

While you get dressed, you inspect your reddened butt in the mirror and you swear you see the outline of his hand on it. Walking up behind you he squats down and kisses the red marks, making you chuckle.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, regret glistening in his eyes.

“No. I would have told you on the spot,” you smile down at him. Grabbing you pants he helps you into them, caressing your bum over the fabric gently. He stands back up and cups your face in his hands, kissing you tenderly.

“I love you. But if you pull this shit on me again,” he warns, but can’t push his smirk down.

“I did it for your fans.”

“Then tell them it earned you a good fuck.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, pulling him down to kiss you again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

HSLOT WASHINGTON D.C.

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

*inspired by this *

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a week 😌)

-

Despite Harry being less than active on social media, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t creep through Instagram and Twitter after the shows.

He used a fake account to scroll, constantly liking pictures and videos of his wife dancing or funny fan signs to his phone.

Tonight, after the Philly show, YN was already fast asleep in their tour bus bed - she had curled into Harry with her leg between his and her head on his bicep.

Harry was trending on Twitter for his show, however, he scrolled a bit further and noticed that a hashtag called #JusticeforYN was trending.

When he clicked on the link, it took him down a rabbit hole of screenshots and videos from the concert.

It doesn’t take long to see what had happened, it was a girl recording herself on Snapchat from the pit during the concert.

The ‘fan’ held up her phone enough that you could see her but also YN, Jeff, Harry Lambert, and Tommy in the background behind the pit.

Adore You started blasting through his AirPod and the girl recorded his wife dancing with their friends - he gets distracted for a moment, watching her have fun and sing along.

He loved her so fucking much.

But then, it’s the next clip, and the captioned text on the video said ‘Harry’s Whore.’

The small smile on his face disappears instantly when he sees where this is going.

In the next few segments, the girl is screaming things at YN who can’t even hear them because of the music but it’s still completely disrespectful.

“Hi, Harry’s Whore!”

“Get the fuck outta here, nobody wants you here!”

“Fuck you!”

It makes Harry rage, even from the comfort of his bunk with his perfect love, and then he digs deeper to find his real fans defending YN.

YN was pretty loved by the fans. She was always kind, posted pictures of Harry (because he rarely did), and made really kickass merch.

He finds the Twitter account of the girl who harassed his wife, her name was Gina, and he read through her tweets.

She was going to three more of the concerts - following them from Philly to Detroit.

One of her tweets said…

‘If you guys are mad about what I said during the last concert, just wait what I have to say to her next time.’

And he also finds out that she had won a meet and greet for the DC show through the record label and Harry already knew what he was gonna do.

-

YN wakes up before Harry, sitting in the small living area of the bus - watching a cooking show on the television and still slightly dozing in and out of sleep.

“Hi bun,” She mumbles, opening her arms and legs to let Harry flop between them. Chest to chest and he was a bit to heavy for this but he liked laying like this.

“Mornin’, my love,” Harry rasps, peppering kisses all over her jaw and the smooth column of her neck until she giggles.

“Shouldn’t you be saying good morning to your whore on tour?” YN replies, her voice is light and unbothered - obviously found out the online drama.

Harry tenses up, looks up at her seriously, and tells her, “M’gonna take care of it.”

“Don’t, it’s fine, bubs,” YN assures him, she’s smiling softly and Harry just…he is so obsessed with the woman below him that he has to kiss her for a long moment.

“No, it’s not. I’m not going t’let someone treat m’wife like that. She won tha’ meet and greet. I’m gonna have a talk w’her when she comes backstage,” Harry tells her, lips brushing on every word and he can help but grind his hips forward against her.

“Always so horny in the morning,” Yn teases but still lets her thighs fall open a little bit more so that the only barrier is their underwear.

“Can y’blame me? Look wha’ I wake up to,” He rumbles, voice getting illogically deeper and raspier when he speaks.

It’s not long before he tugs his briefs down just enough and her panties to the side to get inside her with his lips glued to hers.

He’s whispering things that would make him blush with embarrassment if anyone heard him.

“Can’t believe y’mine after all this time.”

“Y’my perfect match, on m’knees for you whenever you ask.”

“Arena full of people and all I see is you, baby.”

“Feel like heaven.”

“Only y’make me feel like this.”

“Come on, stubborn girl. Show me y’love me.”

-

Harry looks insanely stunning in his purple outfit but honestly - YN always steals the show (without even trying). ***

They’re in a common area, waiting for the meet and greet with the fans - it’s comical how Gina’s face drops when she arrives to see Harry facing away from everyone with YN giggle as he crowds her up against a wall.

They can hear Harry murmur, “Y’alway showin’ me up. Only gonna be able to look at y’during the show, bug.”

“Harry,” Jeff calls to his client, making him turn around and his eyes instantly search the small groups of fans until his eyes land on a girl dressed in a bright pink fishnet dress and boa.

“You,” Harry points at her, his face isn’t giving away any emotion, “Can I have a chat w’you?”

“S-sure,” She stutters, eyes wide and excited - oblivious that Harry actually knows what she had been posted on social media.

The singer takes her off to the side, YN’s eyes keep darting to them as she chats with the friendly fans who are complimenting her dress and her merch designs.

Frank is standing near Harry, prepared to escort the girl out after the conversation.

“Can we get a selfie?” Gina asks, pulling out her cellphone.

“No,” Harry replies seriously, “You also are going to get escorted out of this arena and banned from any of my future concerts.”

“Wh-what?” The girl stumbles, eyes watering as she looks at him in confusion and dismay.

“I need to make this a safe space for everyone who comes to my concerts. That especially includes m’wife. And I don’t feel comfortable havin’ someone scream at m’wife and posting nasty things on social media attending my concert.”

Realization flashes across Gina’s face, “I’m so so sorry. I can apologize. I really didn’t mean-“

“No. I don’t think my whore of a wife would want to hear it,” Harry chuckles with a nasty edge, “Y’can fuck off now. Go find a new artist to harass ‘cause if I see y’face at one of m’concerts - y’getting kicked out immediately.”

Frank appears beside them, gently guiding the hysterical girl out of the room while the fans look back in confusion.

They forget all about it once Harry saunters up to them and gives them a crooked smile, “Hi, m’Harry. How are y’guys?”

The fans don’t miss his hand moving quickly to squeeze his wife’s hip in reassurance before starting to sign things and take pictures.

-

Later that night, the disgruntled ‘fan’ sends out a nasty few tweets where real fans go after her and defend YN.

Also, the true fans are cooing over the fact that Harry is such a good husband.

haleyhs22: omg, could you imagine being called out by the nicest guy on this earth

tpwkjess_young: okay but I wish I had the luck that @ynstyles has to get a manz like that 😩

UsWeekly: Harry Styles bans ignorant fan from tour after nasty videos were leaked attacking his wife

strawberriesinsummer: harry is such a VIBE. Like he deadass kicked that girl out and then spent the whole night trying to seduce his wife with his shimmies and winks - he’s the hoe 🍑

-

updated: 3/1/2021

✰ = smut

☂ = angst

(if there’s nothing next to it, then it’s fluff)

take a look at my fic recs!

here are all my playlists!

24 hour bookstore→part one, part two✰: you meet harry one night while he’s in nyc and then he asks you on a date and things get…dirty

quarantine confessions: harry’s in la and you’re in nyc and he stops calling and you wonder if your kiss screwed everything up

the quarantine couch✰: you’re staying with your parents during quarantine and you have…needs

a trim: harry really needs a haircut

fuck ‘em only we know (light smut): based off of Bank’s song

boardwalk (summer feeling challenge): you and harry have a fun night on the boardwalk in ocean city, md

wallowing: after another one of your relationships end, you pour a large glass of wine and decide it’s time for some wallowing while fine line blasts throughout your apartment and your best friend comes to comfort you

wallowing part two (wip): you and harry have been seeing one another but nothing’s official; you two go out one night and he fucks up so you go home to wallow in your feelings—again.

ungodly hour→ part one, part two✰: request based off of chloe x halle’s song

26 ☂: request based off Gracie Abrams’s song 21 

fine line✰:harry plays you fine line for the first time and some things come out

tis the damn season: ✰ based on miss swifts iconic tune

green eyes☂: based on the song green eyes by Joseph, or harry wants to take a break

faking it: (light smut) you fake an orgasm and harry knows

october✰☂: september was filled with heartbreak, but october is offering you better things

house hunting: you and harry are looking for a house in italy

needy✰: you just really need dick

playlist fic challenge masterlist

SOMEBODY ELSE: you and harry are friends who start an arrangement…and then that arrangement ends and you’re left with impossible feelings as you watch him move on.*COMPLETED*

MASTERLIST

EARLY MORNING GLORY (Extended Fic; chaptered): a slow burn, friends to lovers, harry au where he’s just starting out and it takes place in NYC.*ONGOING*

MASTERLIST

IN MY FEELINGS: you and harry hate each other, but that doesn’t stop you from hooking up *ONGOING*

MASTERLIST

Pittsburgh

fyi: this is written from a curious gazes point of view!

i write for FREE - 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!

*video is mine (as in i took it so please credit if you use)*

-

Keep reading

In Return - Harry Styles

a/n: i just really wanted to write something with cockwarming and… this is that. that’s all, just a short fic to get it off my mind lmao

warning: cockwarming and sex ofc

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

“Pretty please! I’m begging you!”

Following Harry into the kitchen you pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes as he moves around, trying to ignore you, but he miserably fails, especially when he glances at you and sees your pouty look that’s all for him. He can never resist it, you know that and use it against him pretty often.

“Why are you so obsessed with it anyway?” he asks sighing.

“Because I’m dying to see you with a good, smudged smoky-eye look, just like the rest of the world!” you stomp your foot against the checkered tile. You’ve been trying to get him to let you do his makeup for the longest time, but you just saw an edited picture of him floating around the internet where someone put dark eyeshadow on him and he looked so damn hot, you just have to see it for real.

“What do I get in return?” he cockily smirks at you, tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t know, what do you want?” you shrug. You watch him think for a little before his grin widens.

Keep reading

Harry’s a dick, and Y/N hates him for it.

WARNINGS: small dick energy from Harry until all of a sudden it’s big dick energy, if anyone treats you like this at work, please for the love of god go to HR, switch Harry and Y/N, degrading sex, PIV sex, oral (fem and male receiving,) rimming, spit kink, idk man lots of different sex things in this, lots o’ swearing bc it wouldn’t be a fic by me without it and lots of plot where they just hate each other so much lol.

(A/N Here it is; love you all. Pls let me know your thoughts!)

-masterlist-

Y/N hated Harry. 

She hated his perfectly coiffed hair and his smooth, glowy skin. She hated his award-winning smile, which drew people in like a siren or summat, his melodic laugh and the swoon of his voice, which could charm even the grumpiest of coworkers. She hated his leather jackets and his heeled boots, his vanilla and tobacco scent and his tattoos.

And she especially hated the way he teased her. 

Y/N would consider herself a strong and willful woman; she was intelligent and knowledgeable about her work. She cared about her clients and the colleagues around her, even if they were more often laughing at her than actually talking to her. She was well-spoken and confident, but something about Harry riddled her into a bumbling fool for some reason. She could hardly form a sentence around him. And if, by some miracle, she did, it was primitive and nonsensical, often made more embarrassing by the fact that she was usually trying to defend herself against his incessant taunting. 

It was infuriating. Each time she saw him leaving one of the elevators across from her desk, she would internally groan, duck her head and try and focus on whatever was on her computer screen. Anything to avoid capturing his attention, and no doubt his mockery straight after. Why did he need to come down here so often? It felt like he was doing it on purpose. None of the other members on the associate’s team would bother to come down to the analyst floor (too busy dealing with actual clients and pretending they were much better than any analyst still wading through spreadsheets and numbers), but each day he would arrive, waltzing down and gliding across the shitty commercial carpet as if he owned the place, and Y/N fucking hated it. 

Keep reading

Do you know who you are?

I’m never coming back down