My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

I wanna get railed so bad while wearing one of his Styles embroidered shirts

short but explicit 🤭 ***nsfw warning

(also this isn’t set in covid times.....don’t go out for brunch, even Harry wants to rail you in the bathroom! stay home instead!!)

Harry's shirt is rumpled his hand at the small of your back, the fabric wrinkling into angry creases in his clenched fist. His thrusts are coming so hard and frantic that you have to grab onto the faucet for leverage. His eyes travel down to where your tits bounce beneath his top. Your body jolts with his every trust, his surname egging him on from the left breast. He groans at the sight, watching your flesh spill out of your bra as he fucks you sloppily in the Old Place bathroom. 

"Fucking shit,” Harry breathes, stilling his hips for a moment. His heart is slamming hard against his chest, his breath shortened and begging for a moment of rest. You gasp at the fullness as he stays buried to his hilt, his hands knotting into his own sweaty hair, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s overwhelmed, trying to keep it together as the heat of your bodies begins to steam up the mirror.

But he’s taking too long and your body already misses the weight of his over yours and the keen rhythm of his hips. You whine, sliding your hands to the edge of the counter top. He moans as he slips out, one hand instinctively reaching to pull the hem on your back away so his view remains unobstructed.  

You reach between your bodies, squeezing the head of his cock and smirking over your shoulder when he moans a little too loudly. You break your soft laughter to taunt him with a quiet ‘shhh’ as you line him up again. A low hum rumbles in his chest from behind you as you found a similar tempo to before, throwing your ass back to meet the gentle flick of his pelvis that, at this point, you’re pretty sure is involuntary. 

One more sly glance to him over your shoulder and his weight is pushed over you again, one hand reaching around you spread your slick over your center to knead velvety circles over your clit. The sound of skin slapping is so loud and overwhelming that you’re positive it’s echoing down the small, empty hallway and into the private dinning room all your friends are sat in. 

“Fuck, there! Fuck!” you gasped. “Make me come.” It’s a subtle demand, one you know he'll always rise to, said breathlessly as your knees threatened to buckle. 

You surrender to that jelly feeling in your legs, landing on your elbows against the counter, relying on his arm around your middle to keep you steady. A sinful cry springs from your mouth and you feel like statics taken over your brain as he brings you to the edge. 

He mouths at your shoulder as he comes too, leaving open mouth kisses against your skin. He grabs your face gently in one of his big hands, tilting your mouth to meet his for a feverish kiss. You realize its the first and only one of your rendezvous so you press yourself closer to him. The hungry flare between you has quickly died down and the kiss turns sweet before he pulls out. 

Harry reaches over, gathering some paper towels from the dispenser and offering them to you with a peck to your cheek. As you reach between your legs to clean yourself off, his attention wanders back down to the reflection of his second name on your breast. You haven’t had the chance to adjust your bra back and its enough to make all his thoughts go back straight to his cock. For a split second, he reckons he just needs a big glass of water and, maybe, a light fondle before he’s already ready to go again. 

But the annoyed look you shoot him as you throw the wad of towels away is enough to snap him and his dick back into reality. 

“Should wear it more often,” he nods to the shirt, his fingers tugging on the line of buttons down the front. “Drives me mad.” 

UNCASVILLE

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

warning: smut

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Just like this one-shot, you can commission me for any writing - available through my kofi page!

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-

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.

hi I just wanna say thank u for what u do ur amazing!!! can u pls recommended more angst I wanna get hurt tonight 😩 thank u so much!!

aahh thank you!! i havent read angst in a long time but here are some fics that made me sob

anything by @hes-writer, @harry-writings, @meet-me-in-the-kitchen, @chillmichelle, @hes-words, @hestylesno, @writers-hes, @heyyyharry, @scriptedangel, @harryimaginedstories, @trustfulhaz!!

@stylesmessiah- wilted

@inyourhaven- whos your daddy? part 2

@sunfleurry- one sweet day

@alltheloveflowerh- lets hurt tonight

@harrystylescherry- green eyes

@gucciharrywritings- dont you love me? part 2

@slvtbible- i never asked you to love me

@wroteasongabouther- darker days (before brighter ones)

@pinkliquorstyles- drunk voicemails and confessions

@lightskinrry- no wedding for the bad boys

so tea bestie. and when u get home and get down to business he acts like nothings wrong and at first u think everything’s fine and he’s truly forgotten abt u being a brat but then he refuses to ACTUALLY fuck u🤭like he just keeps rubbing his dick up and down ur pussy and slapping it with his cock and every time u get close he just stops and it’s driving u insane. yeah <3

yeah <3

“What are you doing?” she exhales, miffed, when his tip lingers against her cunt.

“What d’you mean?” Harry volleys back, voice strained and accent thicker than ever. He glides the tip in a languid motion up to her clit and back down pointedly, “M’prepping.”

“Prepping,” Y/N hums, head ticking with pique, “Are you prepping for a long nap or something?”

His gaze flits to her own, suddenly dark and spilling with tension, “M’prepping to gag you, that’s for what. Shut the fuck up and lay still.”

She inhales, her muscles buzzing with a restless yearning when his head slaps against her bundle of nerves. Bucks up off the mattress. A strong grip shoots out over her hip, pinning her to the bed, crescents in her skin abaft his short, teal-polished nails.

“I said to stay still. Touching my dick in public isn’t so nice when it doesn’t fuck you after, is it?”

i will never accept the sound of my recorded voice

may be the last teaser hand in hand with this and this. stay tuned. 

“Sit with me a mo’,” Harry invites. Splays his legs in overture.

There’s an episode of the Handmaid’s Tale on the television. It’s one they watched last weekend. Probably for a reason.

“Like, between?” she chews on her bottom lip. He trails a palm over a jean clad thigh.

“No,” his legs clasp together like an afterthought, “Take your sweats off. Panties, too.”

Y/N blinks, a pink flush spilling over her cheeks. Dips her fingertips below her waist band.

“Keep your shirt on,” Harry adds, almost absent-mindedly. His eyes stay on the TV as she shimmies out of the attire in bemusement. He pats his lap, “Now sit. Put your legs on either side of mine.”

She edges toward him, reaching behind as she situates. Steadies herself with a grasp on the back of the couch. Outside, there’s siren that wails, loud in the silence. He broadens his legs, forcing hers apart. And Y/N holds stifles a gasp when his palms come up to fondle her breasts.

“What are you doing?”

“Quiet now. Daddy’s watching,” Harry scolds before he fingers the hem of her tee and flips it up to expose to chest. Tugs at her nipples.

“Fuck,” Y/N hums, a heat rushing to her pussy. She squeals when a harsh pinch is delivered.

“Did I not tell you to be quiet? Do I have to gag you?”

She can vaguely hear Serena Joy screaming something at Offred through the speaker.

“Sorry,” she hisses, hips shifting when he rolls the little pebbles between his fingertips, “Do it…harder.”

She can make out the smug twitch of his lips in her peripherals before the caress becomes more earnest, nails denting crescents into her flesh.

“Touch me, please,” she begs. There’s something about having herself so exposed to the air, spread open by him. Christ. It’s as if her lower body’s been dipped into a sex cauldron.

“I am touching you,” he huffs in mirth. Presses his lips against her neck.

“No, touch my…”

“I think I’ll play with your nipples for an episode,” He ruminates aloud, “Then, maybe I’ll pull the recliner out. have you straddle my lap so your little pussy’s in front of me. Just spread it open with my fingers. Take a look to make sure everything’s okay down there.”

She can practically hear the teasing leer at the latter statement, “My little girl’s been so horny lately. Wanna make sure nothing’s off.”

She lets out a high whine that results in the nails digging harder. Incessantly squeezing. Unforgiving and insatiable. The pressure’s like a chase, and she’s riding the edge for it.

“Please. Do it to my…my clit.”

“Your clit? Maybe next episode. Maybe then I’ll pinch your clit a little, or run my thumb over it real light when a commercial comes on,” Harry describes, hushed, mouthing at the shell of her ear hotly, “Do that ‘til you’re begging me to go just a little longer, just a little faster, just enough for you to cum. I’ll say no. Slow down even more. Or maybe I’ll just keep playing with your nipples next episode, too.”

The illustration of his plans leave her breathless.

“What do you think? Maybe I’ll alternate, focus on your nipples during the next episode and give you featherlight touches during commercials. Your nipples would get so sore. How many minutes is that?” There’s a pause, Offred shouts something back. He pinches harder. “An hour and a half, at least. This one’s just started. You’d be begging to cum and for me to stop playing with them. Or maybe my dirty little girl would get off on the pain. You’d want me to push you to the brink of tears before you cum all over my hand.”

She cranes her neck back, paints the back of her eyelids with fireworks of rapture. Smothers a moan with her lips. One hand stops, slinks around to cup her face in hungry aggression.

“But maybe you won’t get to cum at all. Just sit there with your tight, little pussy out, crying for me to let you,” he whispers, scarily calculated. Grips tightly over her jaw, “Or maybe you’ll cum, and then I’ll flip you over and eat you out, focus on your clit right where it’ll hurt until you cum again. You’ll be so sensitive, probably try to push me away. But I’ll keep going, hold your hands down until you finish. And then again, from my cock stretching you open.”

never too much

Masterlist ∞ Requests

Tags: angst, fluff word count: 4.0k+

Warnings: mentions of drunk driving, car accident

In which you think Harry has too much on his plate to worry about you.

It was all a bit surreal. What was supposed to be a nice day out with your best friend turned into an unfortunate emergency room visit and 8 stitches along the side of your thigh. 

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1/ ok long anon :) back longer than ever ! because was there one time Harry was seen at like a western bar? or a bar that had a mechanical bull and he rode it ?? Then left with a girl? did that actually happen am I making that up? Anyways Harry’s in the middle of his American tour and has a 3 day break before his next show on Friday. And let’s pretend he’s somewhere around Nashville, or down further south near Dallas or Houston, or maybe west near Phoenix, or could be up in Boston, anyways point is, it’s Tuesday night and Harry just wants to find a place to have a beer at an actual bar with his band and some of the crew, and hopefully not be center of attention for a moment. And the bar he manages to make his way into isn’t packed whatsoever, but still has a nice crowd of what seems to be older locals, there for open mic night/karaoke. He and the band manage to make their way in to go sit at a booth tucked away and if any of the patrons do spare a look at him, it’s not really at him, but more so at his funky multicolored cardigan. And Harry’s having a great time just being able to be out drinking and having a good time with his friends, just laughing over stories told, pausing to listen to whoever is up at the mic if they catch his ear. Harry suggests another round of drinks, and he walks up to where you’re behind bar in a pair of Levi’s shorts, head turned away as you’re filling up a glass from the tap, and as if you could sense someone there behind you, you’re already saying “I’ll be with you in a second” without even turning around. And when you hear a “take your time” in an accent that’s definitely not from one of your usual crowd, you quickly look over your shoulder and just as quickly turn back to the tap because holy shit…it’s actually Harry Styles at this bar of all places. And as you turn to take the drink you poured to the patron at the corner of the bar, Harry gets an actual look at you and thinks to himself oh wow…she’s pretty. Really, really pretty even in this low lighting. And as you slide your way back over to him, you ask “what can I get you?” in the most calm cool collected way you can manage. And maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s because he’s naturally a menace, but Harry says “your name” with a slight grin. And you won’t lie, hearing that from Harry Styles did make your heart start pumping faster, and a smirk starts to make its way to your mouth that Harry catches, but is shaken away as you roll your eyes because men really are the same no matter who they are and you respond “it’s y/n. Now seriously, what can I get you? They don’t look it, but this crowd can get rowdy if they don’t get their drinks in time even if I tell them that it was a young big shot rock star decided to hold up the line” And there it is. The little weight that settled on your shoulders for a second lifted because you know that he knows and he knows that you know who he is. But you also can’t help but notice the little bit of hurt that crossed Harry’s face when you responded. And Harry, he’s a little taken back by your sharp response, mouth dropped, but not so much shocked that you know who he is (he’s not conceited just knows how relevant/big he is). And he doesn’t know what it is whether it’s the fact that you’re so pretty, or the fact you tried to play it cool (the shocked-knowing glance you made at him when you thought he didn’t notice turns out was noticed) the alcohol, or the slight bite in your response, but he turns to look back at the booth with his friends and notices that they’re so deep into conversations and laughs and (some even dancing with some of the older patrons) honestly, haven’t noticed that Harry’s been gone for a moment. He looks back to you and says “Y/N” (that rolls nice off his lips), “I’m sorry, I’ll have one of whatever is on tap.” And you nod as you turn to pour his drink while Harry decides to settle in and take a seat at the bar. And when you place his drink on the table, he goes “Seriously, I’m sorry if I offended you or made you uncomfortable in anyway.”

2/ And you notice how genuine he sounds right now, and you were neither offended or uncomfortable, just more shocked that Harry Styles is asking for your name. You tell him “it’s fine, really, just wasn’t expecting /that/ from you. Anyways, what managed to bring you all the way over here?” And that’s how you two started talking about everything really even as you excused yourself to fill orders, the conversation was easily jumped back into. Harry told you of how he’s been on tour and just needed to feel like a person and you told him about yourself. How you took up bartending because you’re starting grad school in the fall and little stories about the old timey crowd that like to inhabit this place. Like how behind the dingy curtain on the little stage, there’s actually a mechanical bull that is hardly ever used now because too many drunk old people nearly breaking a hip trying to live out their Wild Wild West fantasy. And you both don’t really notice, but as the conversation has gone on, he’s leaned more across the bar as you’ve leaned closer to him as well. Harry’s noticing how your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the mole on your forearm as you stretch to hand people their drinks. And your beautiful doesn’t go missed by the kind elderly guests who he can hear make comments on how “you get prettier every time I see you y/n” And you’re really smart. When you told him what you’re going to grad school for, and what you’re researching, Harry was reminded how he stopped going to school at 16. And you’re noticing how easy he is to talk to. Surprisingly easy and despite being a huge celebrity, he’s really down to earth, still cocky but charming. He’s also so handsome, strikingly so, especially this close. Anyways, the night has gone on, more of the crowd turning in for the night, and you’re now around the bar, sitting on the stool next to Harry, knees occasionally knocking against each other, still talking. At some point you’re both broken out of whatever trance you’re both under by each other by one of Harry’s friends coming over to tell him that they’re all leaving and you think sadly to yourself that this weird, unexpected, encounter has come to an end. But when you see that Harry hasn’t gotten up from his stool, and he tell them that’s going to stay back and he’ll get a ride back later, something lights up in your belly. As they all wave back at him you send a wave off as well and Harry turns back to you and says “Is that okay with you? I’m honestly having a really great time talking with you.” And you swear steam could come out of your ears and your face is probably beet red right now as a high pitch “no, that’s fine, I’m really having a great time too. But I am going to have to start closing up now, so if you do want to leave…” and Harry is all “oh….well is it okay if I stay as you close up, give you some extra company? I promise I’ll stay out of your way, or I could help, you know?” And he adds with a smile, “Whatever I can do that’ll make you want me to stay, lovely” And that last part makes you smitten really as you nod okay to him. So the bar is now closed, and you’ve been going through your usual closing routine (it’s just you that night since it was Tuesday) and you just can’t believe Harry Styles is here helping you sweep and flip chairs onto tables (“I can help some. I used to be a baker you know?”) And you’ve plugged your phone into the speaker to play your Spotify as you clean and when you hear the opening of Canyon Moon, a shock runs up your spine as you pause mid tabletop wipe down and your eyes move to meet Harry who has looked up mid sweep. And you’re blushing again and stammering an apology of “I am so sorry let me change it” as you rush to your phone to change it as Harry who has gone back to sweeping says “no I like this one” with a grin and looks back to you. And you’re a little relieved but still embarrassed biting your lip as you tell him “yeah i do too” with a returned grin.

3/ And you both go back to cleaning and talking, you’ve both ended up in one of the booths, Your feet brushing against each other under the table as you finish up looking over inventory sheets between asking Harry about his tattoos (his sleeves rolled up,holding his arm out on the table as you admire and you didn’t miss the flex of his hand when you brushed against the one of the holy Bible asking if the placement of the bookmark means anything particular). And at some point Harry looks towards the stage at one point and asks “is there really a bull behind there?” And you told him “yeah and that bull has a name, and it’s Stella by the way named after an actual cow the owner had on a farm as a kid” and now you’re pulling the curtain to reveal, the very intimidating mechanical bull that takes up most of the tiny stage. And Harry’s all “can I ride it?” And you’re all “are you sure? I mean it hasn’t been used in awhile besides my coworkers when we’re fucking around after closing sometimes.” And Harry’s like “yeah it looks like fun.” And that’s how he ended up, on top of the bull, shoes discarded and socked feet, holding on with one hand as the bull bucked and you laughed at first because of how ridiculous he looked, and he’s laughing along with you having the time of his life too, but oh…the way he’s practically grinding against the seat is making you have some really impure thoughts. And you shake your head a little as he’s finally lost his bearings and has fallen off onto the protective padding below laughing his head off. And jokingly you say “23 seconds. And here id thought you’d last longer.”

4/ And Harry catches your shot at his ego as he gains his composure, rising up to where you are at the controls to say “heyyy now. Bet you can’t do better.” And you’re a little insulted at his assumption because you mentioned earlier to him that you and the rest of the workers here will occasionally ride the bull after work for fun and you’d managed stay on the longest several times thanks to your highly strategized technique you’ve developed, as you scoff “oh please I know how to ride” and your eyes widen because you didn’t mean for your response to be that saucy, but Harry is already looking at you with that smirk and says “well, show me how you ride then” and you swallow and agree and after giving harry a rundown on the easy to use controls, you’re perched on the bull. With the bull facing the away, your starting with your back towards Harry, and he can’t help but to notice your ass in your shorts again as it’s slightly arched on the bull with your hand in the air. Once he actually starts up the bull, he realizes how right you were about knowing how to ride. And he didn’t think this was possible but you’ve managed to make this whole activity seem graceful? In the way that you’re going with the motions of the bull. Harry also can’t help but notice how sexy you look up on it too, he can’t help but let his himself imagine you riding him like how you are on the bull right now. You rocking rhythmically back and forth on the saddle. Harry’s glad that he’s behind the controls right now as he reaches to his pants to discreetly adjust himself because he’s getting hard. And your gleeful laughter snaps him out of his dirty thoughts as you make eye contact with him, and it’s a split second but oh did you just see him? adjust himself? Oh… and it breaks you from your concentration as you’re flung from the bull a little harsher than expected onto the padding below. And Harry has exclaimed your name as he has stepped his way into the padding of the bull pen rushing to you as you’re rolled onto your side catching your breath laughing a little because this is, just so crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy that Harry Styles has not only showed up to your bar, but he /likes/ talking to you, he called you lovely and now, he’s hard over you. And Harry is leaned over you, rolling you onto your back, concern on his face, and asking “are you okay?” And you’re still trying to catch your breath as breathless laughs escape you as you tell him “yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

5/ And now you’re close, really close and really looking at each other as Harry goes to sweep some of your hair off your face. And you reach your hand up to softly brush against the bare skin of his tattooless arm. And you’re looking at Harry’s lips as he’s paused his ministrations in your hair looking down at you and smirks “you were right about knowing how to ride.” And a smile spreads across your face, and your eyes are doing that crinkled thing that Harry likes as you reply “oh, you think?” and your hand moves to tug on his collar, to bring him down to your face as you kiss him.

Anndddddd that’s all I’ve got lol.

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BESTIE....... BESTIE OH MY GOD HELLO??? IM SPEECHLESS IM... OMFG HIM BEING A LITTLE NERVOUS? YOU BOTH BEING SO EXCITED TO HANG OUT AFTER HOURS, AND THE REALIZATION THAT LIKE... OH FUCK HE’S ACTUALLY KIND OF INTO YOU... OH MY GOD

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

1:32 AM | harry styles.

summary: a series of moments in yours and Harry’s life together that seemed to occur around 1:32 AM.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k words

warning(s): nothing but fluff with a bit of husband!/dad!harry

a/n: (disclaimer: gif is not mine and belongs to @harryisart) hope y’all like this! i thought it was a cute concept. reblogs/feedbacks are very much appreciated <3

It was half past midnight.

You couldn’t sleep and it was practically driving you insane. You blame yourself for having a last minute coffee before bed. So stupid, you thought.

You tossed and turned in bed, drank some water, even tried counting sheeps; but to no avail, you could not get a wink of sleep. You sighed, thinking of ways to get yourself to sleep; you were lucky that tomorrow - well, today - was Saturday. 

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand, groaning as the bright light from the screen hurt your eyes. You scrolled through your contacts to find the number you were looking for. Harry.

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