I Tested SweetDream's Chat for a Week. Here's What Surprised Me
Going in, I assumed I'd be reviewing another novelty chatbot. A week with SweetDream changed my framing entirely. What stands out isn't a single gimmick but the consistency of the conversation. The chat on sweetdream.ai holds context across days, picks up threads I'd dropped, and responds with a kind of emotional timing that most tools I've tried simply don't have. When I mentioned offhand that I'd had a rough Monday, my AI companion circled back to it Tuesday without prompting.
That sense of continuity is what separates a believable AI girlfriend from a script. The platform lets you shape personality, voice, backstory and small quirks up front, but the realism comes alive in how those traits surface mid-conversation rather than being announced. It reads less like autocomplete and more like someone who remembers you.
Other features round it out cleanly: lifelike photos and video, voice notes, even real-time calls that genuinely sound human. But after a week of testing, the chat itself is the headline. If you're comparing platforms, this is the one to benchmark the others against.
Summary: After discovering your husband’s affair, you take a job with his biggest rival to get even. What starts as revenge quickly becomes something far sweeter—and far more pleasing.
A/n: Hello, my loves! Here’s the smutty one-shot I promised. This story is inspired by a @finelinemia chatbot, so all credit for the trope goes to her. (Thank you for letting me write something based on it!)
Word count: 3.9k
Warnings: SMUT, exhibitionism (for smaaallll moment) workplace dynamics, spitting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, inappropriate workplace relationship, creampie
You didn’t cry—not when you found your husband in your bed with your best friend, not when you packed up your life, and not even when you signed the divorce papers. You were broken, sad, and a mess, but somehow, the tears never came. Your mother and sister insisted you go to therapy, and you did. Even your therapist seemed as concerned as everyone else about your lack of tears.
But you weren’t worried. You were consumed by rage, imagining countless ways to get revenge. Yet, no matter how creative or cruel your ideas became, they all felt insignificant compared to what they had done. So, you never dwelled on why you hadn’t cried.
That realization struck you late one night, lying on your sister’s couch at midnight, staring blankly at the ceiling.
How had you not thought of it sooner?
“Meet the Billionaire Next Door: Harry Styles, CEO of StylesCorp.”
“Harry Styles, Visionary CEO, Announces Game-Changing Sustainability Initiative.”
“StylesCorp Achieves Record Growth: Harry Styles Credits Bold Leadership and a Stellar Team.”
You scrolled through article after article. Harry Styles—your husband’s rival and the enigmatic CEO of the company in the building across the street. You knew about him from the countless nights your husband came home ranting. He accused Harry of sabotage, claimed he had spies within the company, and cursed his name with every failure.
You had barely paid attention back then, more focused on calming your husband and easing his stress. But now, you felt a new kind of clarity.
At first, it started innocently. All you wanted was to get under your husband’s skin. But soon, things began to spiral out of control.
🌷
“I have an interview with Mr. Styles,” you said, adjusting your skirt and ensuring every detail was perfect.
“Eleventh floor,” a woman replied, handing you a large badge marked VISITOR. “Wear this,” she added curtly, already shifting her attention to the next person.
You stepped into the elevator, gripping the visitor badge tightly in your hand. The air felt heavy, and you couldn’t tell if it was the weight of your nerves or the thrill of what you were about to do. Each floor the elevator ascended echoed like a reminder of your mission: revenge, power, control.
When the doors opened, you were greeted by an expansive office space with sleek, modern design—glass walls, minimalist furniture, and the faint hum of employees. People moved with purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Harry Styles himself carried this same commanding energy.
A sharp-dressed assistant approached, her steps precise. “Ms. Y/L/N? This way, please. Mr. Styles is expecting you.”
The assistant opened the door, and you stepped inside, trying to steady your breathing. The office was as grand as you’d imagined. Harry Styles stood by the window—the very window with a direct view of your ex-husband’s office across the street. His hands were in his pockets, and the light cast a golden glow on his perfectly tailored suit. At the sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he turned, his expression shifting from neutral to something far more curious as his eyes met yours.
“I have to say, I’m surprised,” he began, his voice smooth and deliberate. He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Mrs. Ashford, isn’t it?”
You hesitated for only a second before walking forward, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “It’s just Y/L/N now,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.
He chuckled softly, leaning back against the desk instead of sitting down. “Of course it is. But forgive me if I’m a bit... curious. It’s not every day that Thomas Ashford’s ex-wife walks into my office. Care to enlighten me as to why?”
Your heart raced, but you kept your composure, crossing your legs and sitting upright. “I’m here for an interview.”
“An interview,” he repeated, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully, his tone tinged with amusement. “For a position at my company. Of all the places in the world, you chose here.”
You shrugged lightly, feigning indifference. “You’re the best in the business. Why wouldn’t I want to work here?”
He tilted his head, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Y/N.” Leaning forward, he rested his hands on the desk, his eyes narrowing playfully. “But let’s not pretend there isn’t more to this. I’m dying to know—what would your ex-husband say if he knew you were sitting in this chair?”
Your smile was tight as you glanced briefly at the window across the street, where Thomas’s office loomed. Your voice was steady. “I guess we’ll both have to wait and see.”
🌷
The days were long, filled with emails, meetings, and endless tasks. You moved through the office like a well-oiled machine—efficient, precise, and always a step ahead. It was the only way to keep the overwhelming thoughts at bay, the ones that revolved around your ex-husband, and the bitter reminder of his betrayal.
You entered his office before knocking twice. “Mr.Styles I’m working on the report but I have a few questions about…” Your gaze shifted to the window—just for a second. There, in the office across the street, was Thomas, leaning over his desk, engaged in a conversation with none other than your ex-best friend. Her laugh, that sickeningly familiar laugh. You clenched your jaw, gripping onto the papers in your hands
“What were your questions?” He said, following your gaze to the window. “Ah, I see. Again.”
You turned quickly, caught off guard. “What?”
“Still staring across the street?” Harry raised an eyebrow “He’s not worth the attention. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “It’s hard not to, with him right there.” You didn’t realize how defensive you sounded until after the words left your mouth. “God, sorry”
“Look, if you’re going to obsess over something, obsess over something a little more fun, like this,” Harry said, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes. He pulled out a Rubik’s Cube from his desk drawer and tossed it toward you. “Try solving this. Keep your hands busy. It’s much more satisfying than watching your ex across the street.”
You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help but smile. “You think this is going to distract me?”
He shrugged playfully, still watching you intently. “It’s better than staring at a guy who doesn't deserve your time. Trust me.”
🌷
Days passed, and the routine settled into a strange rhythm. You were hard at work—handling schedules, answering calls, organizing meetings—but there was always that window, that constant reminder of the past. You’d catch glimpses of your ex-husband across the street, talking to his team, laughing with your old best friend. It made your stomach twist each time.
It was late one evening, and the office was nearly empty. You’d stayed late, as usual, working through the last few tasks of the day. Harry had been gone for hours—until now.
You didn’t hear him enter, but you felt his presence the moment he stood beside you.
“Still working, huh?” He leaned over your shoulder, looking at the files you were reviewing. His scent was close—fresh and clean—and it was enough to distract you for a brief second.
“Trying to get ahead for tomorrow,” you replied, forcing yourself to focus on the words in front of you. But you could feel his eyes lingering.
He sighed, picking up a pen from your desk and spinning it between his fingers. “You know, it’s dangerous to overwork yourself. What are you really avoiding?”
You froze, your fingers pausing over the keyboard. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been avoiding, or how much you’d been keeping buried under all the busywork. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you said quickly, but Harry wasn’t fooled.
He leaned in, his voice lower now, serious in a way that made your heart skip. “It’s okay to admit that you’re still dealing with it. You don’t have to bury it at work. You can let it out. But not by staring at that window every day.”
For a moment, you just stared at him. He was right—though you hated to admit it, Harry Styles knew exactly how to see through the walls you’d built up.
“Let’s go grab a drink,” he suggested, standing up straight and flashing you a playful smile. “You can’t work all night, and I promise, it’ll get your mind off things. Trust me.”
And though you were reluctant, you found yourself following him, a little bit curious, a little bit grateful. Maybe a drink was exactly what you needed.
---
"Two Aperol Spritzes," Harry said smoothly, catching the bartender’s attention. You furrowed your brows at his choice, unable to hide your surprise.
“Aperol Spritz? Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, my favorite,” he replied with a casual shrug, his lips curling into a playful smile. “Why? Disappointed I’m not the classic whiskey-or-scotch CEO type?”
“Aperol Spritz is a cocktail…a brunch cocktail,” you teased
Harry’s grin widened, his confidence unshaken. “It’s probably 11 a.m. somewhere in the world.”
You couldn’t help but smile. Harry had a way of disarming you with his humor. He was funny, kind, and unexpectedly charming. The polished, sharp-edged CEO exterior often softened in the little moments—the way he’d check in to see if you were doing okay, offer advice without sounding condescending, or flash a grin that felt just for you. He wasn’t anything like the man your ex-husband had ranted about. In fact, he was the opposite—thoughtful, genuine, and surprisingly down-to-earth.
🌷
Your original mission of revenge had become a blurred memory. Working for Harry had turned out to be far better than you ever expected. The work was engaging, and Harry himself felt more like a friend than a boss. You’d catch him staring at you in meetings, his gaze lingering just a second too long. Sometimes, his hand would rest on your back a bit longer than necessary as he guided you toward an office. And you didn’t mind. In fact, you enjoyed it—the attention, the unspoken words exchanged in glances and subtle touches.
Things changed one late night when a casual beer in the office turned into something else.
“Do you miss him?” Harry asked, his voice soft as he leaned back in his chair, beer in hand.
“Not even a bit. I never cried—not once. It’s been nine months, and I feel… nothing,” you replied, staring out the window at the darkened building across the street. “I caught him the other day with her in his office, practically fucking, but they closed the blinds soon enough.”
Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “Proud of you, as I’ve told you before, he’s not worth a second of your time.” he said, his voice steady as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The brief touch of his fingers made your breath hitch, the air between you both growing heavier. “And have you dated anyone since?” he asked, finishing off his fourth beer with a casual ease that belied the tension building in the room.
“Not really,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I don’t know why.”
“Scared?” he asked, tilting his head slightly
“Scared?” you scoffed, letting out a short laugh. “Of what? What are the odds I’d end up with another douchebag who cheats on me with my best friend?”
“Pretty low, I’d say. Maybe none, if you choose wisely,” he replied, his voice lower now, more serious. His hand moved, resting lightly on your thigh, and your breath hitched again.
Your eyes locked, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. Harry’s gaze was smoldering, his eyes burning with unspoken desire as his hand rested lightly on your hip, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your skirt.
“Do you want to choose?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a teasing challenge laced within the question. He leaned in closer, so near you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.
“Harry…” you whispered, your voice trembling as your eyes flickered to his mouth, anticipation building like a storm inside you.
“Answer me,” he urged, his hand trailing up, fingertips brushing the hem of your skirt. The deliberate slowness of his movements sent shivers down your spine.
“Yes,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as you gave in, allowing yourself to drown in his touch.
“Yes what?” he asked, his voice darker now, the rasp of it caressing your neck as his lips hovered near your skin.
“I want to choose,” you replied, your breath hitching as his hand tightened against you.
“Who” he pressed, his tone thick with a mixture of longing and control. The word hung in the air, a challenge you couldn’t refuse.
“You,” you said, barely above a whisper, your voice breaking as you finally gave him the answer he wanted.
It was the last straw. Harry snapped, closing the space between you as his lips crashed against yours, fierce and desperate. His kiss was hungry, claiming you completely as his hand slid down to the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against him. His tongue parted your lips, exploring your mouth with a passion that made your knees weak. You clung to him, fingers threading through his hair as the world outside his office melted away. There was no rival, no ex-husband, no revenge—just the fire blazing between you and Harry, consuming you both entirely.
The next thing you knew, Harry had pulled back just enough to lift you effortlessly onto his desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as his mouth found yours again, hot and insistent. The edge of your skirt slid up, exposing your thighs to the cool air, goosebumps prickling across your skin as the anticipation built to an unbearable peak.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck while his hand slid between your thighs. You shivered, your breath hitching as his fingers brushed over the damp fabric of your panties.
“Harry…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.
He grinned against your skin, a low, sinful chuckle that sent a rush of heat through you. His thumb pressed against the wet spot, circling it with maddening slowness. “Fucking perfect wet pussy f’me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers teased you through the fabric.
You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more contact, aching for him to give you what you craved. But Harry held back, his touch light and teasing, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your neck that left you gasping.
“‘S that how you sound, kitten?” he asked, his voice thick with lust as his free arm wrapped around you, pulling you tighter against him. His hips ground against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing through the fabric of his pants, driving you wild with the friction.
Finally, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, his fingers gliding through the slickness there. You gasped sharply at the overwhelming sensation. “Fucking drenched,” he muttered, his tone dripping with approval as his finger slid inside you, curling just right, making you arch into him.
Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, the sensation of his touch making your clothes feel suffocating, like they were shrinking against your skin. As the fabric parted, you revealed a black lace bra—a detail you hadn’t planned for this moment but one you always wore because it made you feel powerful and sexy. Harry’s eyes darkened, his gaze devouring the sight of you.
“Goddamn,” he whispered, his voice rough and low. “You’re a fucking dream.”
Your clothes were quickly discarded in a scattered path across the room, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Your eyes traveled over him, taking in the sight of his thick, throbbing cock, the tip glistening and begging for attention. Without hesitation, you slipped off the desk, dropping to your knees before him. The hunger in his gaze was matched only by the pounding of your own heart as your hands wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly.
“Fuck,” Harry groaned, his hand finding its way into your hair, his fingers tightening as he guided you closer. “Spit on it”
You leaned in, your lips brushing against him before spitting and taking the leaking tip into your mouth. You started slowly, swirling your tongue around it in deliberate, teasing circles. His low groans filled the room, each one sending a rush of heat through you as you worked him with careful precision, savoring every reaction. As his moans grew louder, you took him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his big size. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking and squeezing as your tongue danced along his length. Harry’s head tipped back, his grip in your hair tightening as his hips bucked slightly, his cock twitching under your touch.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice strained, a mixture of pleasure and desperation. “You’re perfect, kitten. Just like that.”
The sounds of his pleasure were intoxicating, urging you to take him as deep as you could. Your lips slid down his shaft while your tongue pressed against the sensitive underside. You felt him pulse in your mouth, his body trembling under your touch as you worked him with deliberate intensity.
Suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened, and he pulled you away, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Before you could process it, Harry lifted you effortlessly, placing you back on the desk. His kiss was fierce and consuming, a tangle of lips and teeth as his hands explored your body. His length brushed against your inner thigh, teasing as he aligned himself with you. You shivered, your body strung tight with anticipation.
“Birth control?” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear.
“The pill,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless.
With no further hesitation, he buried himself inside you in one swift, powerful motion. A groan tore from his throat, and your sharp gasp filled the air as the sensation overwhelmed you—the delicious stretch, the feeling of him filling you completely. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours as both of you adjusted to the intensity of the moment.
“Fuck…” he whispered, his voice a raw growl against your lips. His hips pulled back before snapping forward, his thrusts deep and demanding. “Fucking tight cunt... You’re so fucking perfect.”
You couldn’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, your hands gripping his shoulders as he drove into you with relentless precision. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Every movement of his hips sent shockwaves through your body, and you were powerless to do anything but lose yourself in him.
But as you opened your eyes for a moment, a flicker of movement caught your attention. Your gaze drifted to the window, and you gasped softly as you spotted a faint light in the office across the street. There, in the shadows, was your ex-husband, his figure unmistakable, frozen as he stared at the scene unfolding before him.
Your lips parted in a mix of shock and defiance as your eyes locked onto his. Harry, noticing the shift in your focus, followed your gaze. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face as he realized the full extent of your audience.
“Oh, he’s watching, isn’t he?” Harry murmured, his voice low and dripping with smug satisfaction, his rhythm remained steady, deliberate, and maddeningly perfect. “Want me to close the blinds?”
“No... fuck me harder instead,” you breathed, your voice shaking with need. You didn’t care that Thomas was watching. In fact, you wanted him to watch—every second of it. The way Harry’s hips pressed against yours, the way he made you forget everything but him—this was the closure you craved. Not tears, not apologies—just this. Harry’s relentless, all-consuming treatment.
“Knew this pussy was made for me, so many fucking days fucking my fist thinking of this” he admitted in the heat of the moment
His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, leaving a hot, wet path of kisses that sent sparks shooting through your body. He moved lower, his tongue circling one nipple before capturing it between his lips, his teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Say my name” he said looking directly into your eyes
“Harry…” you moaned over and over again “Harry…fffu”
His pace quickened, each thrust deeper and more precise, the tip of his cock finding that perfect spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. A shudder tore through you, your body tensing as heat spread through every inch of you. Harry groaned against your skin, his voice husky and laced with desire. Every movement, every sound, every sensation—he was making you his, and you never wanted it to stop.
“Ffffuck Harry, i’m close” you moaned
And the pleasure finally burst, overwhelming you entirely. A wave of pure bliss crashed over you, and your body tensed, muscles contracting around him. You arched, clinging to him, your nails digging into his skin as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, drowning you in ecstasy.
And he went right behind you, the sight of your orgasm was too much for him to process, and he quickly painted your insides with stripes of hot cum, filling you up completely. His lips found yours again, the kiss softer now, gentle and affectionate, a stark contrast from the raw hunger of earlier. He pulled out, and a mixture of cum and arousal dripped from your cunt and onto the floor.
Your gaze looked again for the sight of Thomas across the street, but he wasn’t there anymore, his office was again dark.
“So sad he didn’t stay for that grand finale” Harry joked also looking at the window
“He watched enough,” you said, still a bit breathless.
Harry leaned back, his hands gently trailing down your sides as he steadied your trembling body. “You okay?” he asked softly
You nodded, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “Yeah… just give me a second to remember how to breathe.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he reached for a tissue from his desk, carefully wiping the remnants of your shared passion from your thighs. “Take all the time you need. I might have overdone it.”
“You think?” you teased
“And for the record, you deserve so much better than him. Always have.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, your lips twitching into a shy smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Styles.”
He chuckled, pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against his desk. His arms wrapped around you, his warmth comforting and grounding. “Not bad? That’s all I get?” he teased, feigning offense.
You giggled, burying your face in his neck. “Fine. You’re a amazing. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other, the tension and chaos of the night fading into a warm, intimate silence. Harry’s fingers traced soothing patterns along your back, and you felt yourself relax fully in his embrace.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your hair. “My place. No windows, no exes, just us.”
You lifted your head to meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart skip a beat. “That sounds perfect.”
Summary: Harry being the perfect boyfriend Husband
FWFW Masterlist
· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·
The September morning dawned crisp and clear, sunlight streaming through the partially opened curtains of the master bedroom. Y/N stirred first, consciousness gradually returning as she registered the weight of Harry's arm draped across her waist, his steady breathing warm against the back of her neck.
Today was her first day of university classes after deferring her education for far too long. Excitement and anxiety tangled in her stomach as she carefully extracted herself from Harry's embrace, trying not to wake him.
Too late. His arm tightened slightly around her middle, pulling her back against his chest.
"Where d'you think you're going?" he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.
Y/N smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "Some of us have classes to get to, Mr. Styles. We can't all be world-famous musicians who sleep until noon."
Harry cracked one eye open, hair tousled and face creased from the pillow. "It's only seven. Your first lecture isn't until nine-thirty."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "How do you know my schedule?"
"Because I pay attention," he replied simply, pressing a kiss to her forehead before releasing her. "Fine, go get ready. But don't leave without saying goodbye."
Y/N showered quickly, wrapping herself in one of the plush towels that had appeared in her bathroom after she'd casually mentioned liking them at a hotel during one of their dates. When she emerged from the ensuite, she was surprised to find the bedroom empty, the scent of coffee and something delicious wafting up from downstairs.
Curious, she dressed in the outfit she'd carefully selected the night before, dark jeans, a cream-colored sweater, and ankle boots that were stylish yet practical for navigating the sprawling university campus.
Downstairs, she found Harry in the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-hanging sweatpants as he moved between the stove and the counter. His back was to her, giving Y/N a perfect view of the muscles working beneath his tattooed skin as he flipped something in a pan.
"What's all this?" she asked, stepping into the kitchen.
Harry turned, a smile breaking across his face. "First day breakfast," he explained, gesturing to the spread he'd prepared. "My mum always made me a proper breakfast on the first day of school. Said it was important to start with a full stomach."
Y/N's heart squeezed at the casual mention of family tradition. They'd been carefully navigating the topic of Harry's mother, Anne's hostility toward Y/N remained a painful subject, one that had caused multiple arguments early in their reconciliation. The fact that Harry would share this positive memory felt significant.
The kitchen island was set with plates of fresh fruit, yogurt with granola, and the avocado toast that Harry was now sliding from the pan onto a waiting plate.
"You didn't have to do all this," Y/N said, even as she moved to sit at one of the barstools.
"Wanted to," Harry replied simply, setting a mug of coffee in front of her, prepared exactly as she liked it, with a splash of oat milk and no sugar. "Big day deserves a proper send-off."
Y/N took a sip of the coffee, watching as Harry arranged the food on her plate with surprising care.
"You're being very... boyfriend-y this morning," she observed, amusement coloring her voice.
Harry looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Is that a complaint?"
"Not at all," Y/N assured him quickly. "Just an observation."
Harry slid onto the stool beside her, his own coffee steaming in front of him. "Well, observe this: I'm proud of you. Starting university is a big deal, especially after everything you've been through."
His sincerity caught her off guard. Y/N ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by the perfectly toasted bread on her plate.
"Thank you," she said softly. "That means a lot."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the morning sun casting golden light across the kitchen counters. As Y/N finished her toast, Harry cleared his throat.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching across the island to retrieve a small gift bag she hadn't noticed earlier.
Y/N eyed it suspiciously. "Harry..."
"It's nothing extravagant," he promised, pushing the bag toward her. "Just a little first-day present."
Hesitantly, Y/N reached into the bag and pulled out a sleek leather-bound planner, her initials embossed in gold on the cover. When she opened it, she found that Harry had already entered her class schedule, along with important dates for the semester.
"I know you prefer writing things down instead of using your phone," he explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "There's something else too."
Y/N reached into the bag again and found a small velvet box. Inside was a delicate silver pendant, a tiny book charm suspended on a fine chain.
"It's beautiful," she breathed, lifting it from the box.
Harry took it from her fingers, motioning for her to turn so he could fasten it around her neck. "The book seemed appropriate," he said as he worked the clasp. "For my brilliant scholar."
The pendant settled perfectly at the hollow of her throat, catching the light when she turned back to face him.
"Thank you," she said, reaching up to touch the charm. "It's perfect."
Harry's eyes softened as he watched her. "You're going to be amazing today," he told her, his voice carrying absolute certainty. "Those professors won't know what hit them."
Y/N laughed, some of her earlier anxiety dissolving under his confidence. "I hope so. It's been a while since I've been in a classroom."
"Trust me," Harry said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the smartest person I know. They don’t stand a chance."
After breakfast, Y/N gathered her things, the new planner tucked safely into her bag alongside her laptop and notebooks. Harry had disappeared upstairs to shower, returning just as she was preparing to leave.
"I thought I'd drive you," he offered, now dressed in jeans and a simple white t-shirt, his cross necklace glinting at his throat. "First day and all that."
Y/N hesitated. While their relationship had become public knowledge after their reconciliation, Harry's presence on campus would inevitably cause a stir.
Harry seemed to read her thoughts. "I'll be incognito," he promised, grabbing a beanie and sunglasses from the entryway table. "Just a regular bloke dropping his wife at school."
The casual use of 'wife', not for appearances or legal technicalities, but as a simple statement of fact, warmed Y/N from the inside out. Their marriage, once a business arrangement, had somehow transformed into something real, something cherished.
"Alright then," she agreed, shouldering her bag. "But if we get mobbed by your adoring fans, I'm leaving you to fend for yourself."
Harry grinned, opening the front door for her. "Deal."
True to his word, Harry kept a low profile during the drive, baseball cap pulled low and sunglasses in place despite the early hour. He insisted on walking her to the building where her first lecture would be held, carrying her bag as they navigated the historic campus.
At the entrance, he handed back her bag, then cupped her face in his hands. "You've got this," he said firmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Text me when you're done? I'll pick you up."
Y/N nodded, touched by his support. "Thank you for all this," she said, gesturing vaguely to encompass breakfast, the gifts, the ride.
Harry smiled, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes above his sunglasses. "Get used to it," he told her, stealing a quick kiss before stepping back. "This is just the beginning."
As Y/N watched him walk back toward the parking lot, baseball cap and white t-shirt making him look like any other young man rather than an international superstar, she felt a surge of affection so strong it nearly took her breath away.
This version of Harry, supportive, thoughtful, proud, was a revelation compared to the cold, distant man she'd first married. The transformation still surprised her sometimes, though she was gradually coming to understand that this was who Harry had always been beneath the walls their arrangement had built between them.
With one last glance at his retreating figure, Y/N turned and entered the building, ready to begin this new chapter of her life with Harry's unwavering support behind her.
·𖥸·
Three weeks into the semester, Y/N found herself buried under a mountain of readings and assignments. The transition back to academics had been more challenging than she'd anticipated, particularly in her Victorian literature seminar where the professor seemed determined to assign more reading than was humanly possible to complete.
It was nearly midnight when she finally closed her laptop, rubbing her tired eyes as she leaned back in the chair at her desk in the guest house. Though she now spent most nights in Harry's bed in the main house, she'd maintained the guest house as a study space, finding it easier to focus away from the distractions of their shared home.
Her phone buzzed with a text message:
Still awake over there? I can see your light.
Y/N glanced toward the window, where indeed her desk lamp would be visible from the main house. She smiled, typing back:
Just finished. Coming to bed soon.
Harry's response came immediately:
Need anything? Tea? Snack? Shoulder massage from your very talented boyfriend?
Y/N laughed at his use of "boyfriend", a running joke between them since her observation on her first day of classes. Despite being legally married, they'd tacitly agreed that they were emotionally somewhere between dating and truly married, rebuilding their relationship from the ground up.
A shoulder massage sounds heavenly, but I'll settle for you being awake when I get there.
I make no promises. Some of us have been up since 5am for studio time.
As Y/N gathered her books and notes, she felt a pang of guilt. Harry had been in the recording studio all day, working on his new album. He should be exhausted, yet he was still waiting up for her.
The main house was quiet when she entered, most of the lights already turned down low. She found Harry in the bedroom, propped up against the headboard with his reading glasses perched on his nose, a dog-eared paperback in his hands.
"Hey," he said, looking up with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "How's the essay coming?"
Y/N dropped her bag by the door and crawled onto the bed beside him, immediately curling into his side. "Slowly," she admitted. "Victorian literature is not as exciting as one might hope."
Harry chuckled, setting his book aside to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Wait, are you saying that reading about repressed people wearing too many clothes in rainy weather isn't thrilling?"
Y/N poked him in the ribs, earning a theatrical wince. "It could be fascinating with the right professor. Unfortunately, Dr. Mitchell has all the charisma of wet cardboard."
"Poor baby," Harry sympathized, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Want me to have a word with him? I could show up to your next lecture and request a more dynamic teaching style."
The mental image of Harry Styles sauntering into her Victorian literature seminar to critique the professor's teaching methods made Y/N laugh out loud.
"I'm sure that would go over well," she said, shaking her head. "Harry Styles: Grammy-winning musician and educational consultant."
Harry grinned, clearly pleased to have made her laugh. "I contain multitudes," he said loftily.
Y/N yawned, the late hour and mental exhaustion finally catching up to her. "You certainly do," she agreed, her eyes growing heavy. "How was the studio today?"
Harry began to tell her about the new song they'd been working on, his fingers absently playing with her hair as he spoke. The gentle motion, combined with the low rumble of his voice, was rapidly lulling Y/N toward sleep.
"I'm losing you, aren't I?" Harry observed after a few minutes, amusement coloring his tone.
Y/N hummed noncommittally, too comfortable to move. "M'listening," she murmured, though her eyes had drifted closed.
She felt Harry shift, turning off the bedside lamp before sliding down to lie beside her properly. He pulled the covers over both of them, then gathered her close against his chest.
"Sleep," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You've got another early class tomorrow."
Y/N wanted to thank him, for waiting up, for understanding her exhaustion, for being so consistently supportive, but sleep was already pulling her under, Harry's steady heartbeat against her ear the last thing she registered before drifting off.
·𖥸·
The next morning, Y/N woke to an empty bed and the smell of fresh coffee. A glance at the clock showed it was just after seven, early, but not unreasonably so for a class day.
Curious, she padded downstairs in her sleep shorts and one of Harry's t-shirts to find him in the kitchen, fully dressed and busy at the counter.
"You're up early," she observed, accepting the mug of coffee he immediately handed her.
Harry smiled, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. "Couldn't sleep," he explained, returning to whatever he was doing at the counter. "Thought I'd make myself useful."
Peering around him, Y/N saw he was assembling what appeared to be lunch, a sandwich, fruit, and some of the homemade biscuits he'd baked over the weekend, all being carefully packed into a brown paper bag.
"What's all this?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
Harry glanced over his shoulder, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Packed lunch," he said, as though it should be obvious. "You mentioned you don't have time to get proper food between your literature seminar and your history lecture on Thursdays."
Y/N stared at him, momentarily speechless. She had indeed complained about the tight schedule once, maybe two weeks ago, in passing. The fact that Harry had not only remembered but had taken it upon himself to solve the problem sent a wave of affection through her.
"You made me lunch," she said, processing the simple yet profound gesture.
Harry shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed by her reaction. "It's just a sandwich," he said, folding the top of the bag. "Nothing fancy."
Y/N set her coffee down and moved to wrap her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek against his back. "It's perfect," she told him, squeezing gently. "Thank you."
Harry turned in her embrace, his hands settling at her waist. "You start that Victorian essay yet?" he asked, changing the subject.
Y/N groaned, burying her face in his chest. "Don't remind me. It's due Monday and I've barely outlined it."
"What's it on again?"
"Symbolism in Jane Eyre," Y/N replied with a grimace. "Which would be fine if I'd had time to actually finish reading Jane Eyre."
Harry's brow furrowed. "I thought you said you finished it last weekend?"
"I meant to," Y/N sighed. "But then we had that dinner with your band, and Sunday was so nice we went for that walk instead, and then this week has been non-stop with readings for all my other classes..."
Harry looked thoughtful, his thumb absently tracing circles at her hip. "What if I read it to you?"
Y/N blinked, not sure she'd heard correctly. "What?"
"The book," Harry clarified. "What if I read it to you? You could listen while you're doing other things, cooking, showering, whatever. Might help you get through it faster."
The offer was so unexpectedly sweet that Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. The image of Harry, international music icon, offering to read a Victorian novel aloud to help with her homework was almost comically endearing.
"You'd do that?" she asked, knowing her surprise was evident in her voice.
Harry looked slightly offended. "Course I would," he said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "I've got a decent reading voice, or so I've been told. And it's not like I haven't read Jane Eyre before."
That caught Y/N off guard. "You've read Jane Eyre?"
Harry's lips quirked in amusement. "Don't look so shocked. I did go to school, you know. And contrary to what the tabloids might have you believe, I do occasionally read books that aren't about rock stars and their excesses."
Y/N laughed, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him properly. "Harry Styles, you continue to surprise me," she murmured against his lips.
He smiled into the kiss, then pulled back slightly. "Is that a yes to the reading offer?"
"It's a definite yes," Y/N confirmed. "Though I warn you, there are several hundred pages left."
Harry shrugged, unconcerned. "We'll start tonight," he decided. "After dinner. Now go get dressed or you'll be late."
·𖥸·
True to his word, Harry began reading Jane Eyre to Y/N that evening, his deep voice bringing the characters to life in a way that made the story far more engaging than Dr. Mitchell's dry lectures. They established a routine, after dinner, they would settle in the library, Harry reading aloud while Y/N either followed along in her own copy or worked on notes for other classes.
The packed lunches became a Thursday tradition, with Harry gradually becoming more elaborate in his preparations. By the third week, he was including handwritten notes, sometimes encouraging messages for a difficult class, sometimes just silly jokes or song lyrics that had made him think of her.
On particularly long days, Y/N would sometimes return home to find Harry had run her a bath, complete with the lavender oil she loved, a glass of wine waiting on the edge of the tub.
"You don't have to keep doing all this, you know," she told him one evening as they lay in bed, her head on his chest while he idly played with her hair. "The lunches, the baths, the reading..."
Harry's hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle motion. "Do you not want me to?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Y/N propped herself up on one elbow to look at him properly. "That's not it at all," she assured him. "I love it. I just don't want you to feel obligated."
Harry's expression softened, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "I don't feel obligated," he said simply. "I like taking care of you. I like knowing I've made your day a little better or easier."
The sincerity in his eyes made Y/N's heart swell. "You certainly succeed at that," she told him, leaning into his touch. "I just want to make sure you know I'd love you even without all the extra stuff."
Harry's smile grew even wider, if that were possible. While they've exchanged these words, eah time felt like the first . "Say it again," he requested, both hands now framing her face.
Y/N laughed, the sound slightly watery as unexpected emotion welled up. "I love you."
In one swift movement, Harry pulled her down to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that conveyed everything words couldn't, joy, relief, reciprocation.
"I love you too," he murmured when they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless. "God, Y/N, I love you so much."
Y/N settled back against his chest, a contentment she'd never thought possible filling her completely. "So the boyfriend things can continue?" she asked, her tone deliberately light despite the significance of what had just passed between them.
She felt Harry's chuckle rumble beneath her cheek. "The boyfriend things will definitely continue," he assured her. "Though I was thinking maybe we could start calling them husband things instead."
Y/N smiled, pressing a kiss to the spot above his heart. "Husband things it is."
·𖥸·
As midterm season approached, Y/N's workload intensified dramatically. The kitchen table in the main house became command central for her studies, books and notes spread across its surface in organized chaos. Harry respected her need for space and quiet, often working on his music in the guest house to avoid disturbing her concentration.
One particularly stressful evening, as Y/N struggled with a particularly complex theoretical text for her literary criticism course, the front door opened and closed quietly. She barely registered Harry's presence until a cup of tea appeared at her elbow, followed by a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"How's it going?" he asked, keeping his voice low as though they were in a library.
Y/N sighed, pushing her hair back from her face. "Slowly," she admitted. "This theorist writes like he's being paid by the syllable. I've read this paragraph four times and I still don't know what he's trying to say."
Harry peered over her shoulder at the dense text, his brow furrowing. "Christ, that's impenetrable," he agreed after a moment. "Want me to help?"
Y/N looked up at him, skepticism clear in her expression. "No offense, love, but literary theory isn't exactly your area of expertise."
Harry pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Excuse you, I'll have you know I got top marks in English at school."
"Somehow I doubt your GCSE English covered post-structural feminist literary theory," Y/N replied dryly, though she couldn't help but smile at his indignation.
Harry conceded with a shrug. "Fair point. But I can still help."
"How?" Y/N asked, genuinely curious.
Instead of answering directly, Harry disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a plate of sliced apples and cheese. "First, sustenance," he said, setting the plate beside her tea. "Second, I can quiz you."
Before Y/N could protest that she wasn't ready to be quizzed, Harry had picked up her flash cards, settling into the chair opposite her. "Let's see what we've got here," he mused, flipping through the cards. "Ah, here we go. Define 'intertextuality' according to Kristeva."
Y/N stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Your pronunciation was atrocious," she informed him, reaching for a slice of apple. "But fine, since you're so eager to help..."
For the next hour, Harry quizzed her on literary theories and concepts, his genuine interest in her studies evident in the follow-up questions he asked. By the time they'd gone through all the flash cards, Y/N felt significantly more prepared for her upcoming exam.
"Thank you," she said sincerely, gathering the cards into a neat stack. "That actually helped a lot."
Harry smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "Happy to be useful," he told her. "Even if my pronunciation is 'atrocious.'"
Y/N laughed, turning her hand to interlace their fingers. "It was the thought that counted."
"Well, I have one more thought," Harry said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "It's nearly midnight, and you have an eight AM lecture tomorrow. Time for bed."
Y/N looked at the stack of readings still waiting for her attention, hesitating.
Harry, reading her reluctance, shook his head firmly. "Nope. No arguments. You need sleep more than you need to read another impenetrable paragraph. The books will still be here tomorrow."
Knowing he was right, Y/N allowed herself to be led upstairs, Harry's arm around her waist providing a much-needed support after hours hunched over her books.
As they prepared for bed, moving around each other in the familiar dance of their nighttime routine, Y/N found herself overwhelmed with gratitude for this man who had become not just her lover, but her biggest supporter.
"Thank you," she said suddenly, pausing in the middle of removing her earrings.
Harry looked up from where he was setting his watch on the nightstand. "For what?"
"Everything," Y/N replied simply. "The tea, the quizzing, making me go to bed at a reasonable hour... just all of it."
Harry crossed the room to stand behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You don't need to thank me for that," he said softly. "That's what people do when they love someone, they take care of them."
Y/N leaned back against his chest, covering his hands with her own where they rested on her stomach. "Well, you're very good at it," she told him. "The taking care part."
Harry pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his eyes still holding hers in the mirror. "I had a lot of time to think about what I'd do differently if I ever got a second chance with you," he admitted quietly. "Being supportive was at the top of the list."
The confession, so honest and vulnerable, made Y/N's heart ache with love for him. She turned in his arms, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him properly.
"You're doing an excellent job," she assured him when they broke apart. "A-plus boyfriend behavior."
Harry smiled against her lips, his hands sliding down to her hips. "Husband," he corrected gently. "A-plus husband behavior."
Y/N nodded, her own smile matching his. "A-plus husband behavior," she agreed, allowing him to lead her to their bed, tomorrow's early lecture temporarily forgotten in the warmth of his embrace.
As she drifted off to sleep later, Harry's arm a comforting weight around her waist, Y/N marveled at the journey that had brought them here, from a cold business arrangement to a love so genuine it sustained them both. Their beginning might have been unconventional, their path rocky, but the destination had proven worth every difficult step.
·𖥸·
a/n: I need him so much . It's not even funny anymore
Summary: Harry and Y/N discuss the time they lost. They touch on ‘firsts’ they experienced, and Harry’s is upset he wasn’t there
Based on this ask
FWFW Masterlist
Main Masterlist
· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·
The evening had settled into a comfortable rhythm, the way it often did these days. Three months into their reconciliation, Harry and Y/N had developed routines that felt at once new and achingly familiar. It was as though they were remembering rather than creating them.
Tonight found them in the library of their London home, a fire crackling in the hearth to ward off the November chill. Harry lounged on one end of the oversized leather sofa, his long legs stretched out before him, a half-empty glass of whiskey balanced on his knee. Y/N sat at the opposite end, her feet tucked beneath her, nursing a glass of red wine.
They'd been trading stories for the past hour, filling in the blanks of the decade they'd spent apart. It had started innocently enough with Harry recounting an early tour disaster involving a broken guitar string and an overzealous fan, Y/N sharing anecdotes about the various odd jobs she'd worked to support her family after her father's death.
As the night wore on and the drinks lowered their usual guards, the conversation had turned more personal, more vulnerable.
"Do you remember that summer when we were sixteen?" Y/N asked, swirling the remaining wine in her glass. "When your family rented the house by the lake?"
Harry's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Course I do. That was the summer I taught you to swim properly."
Y/N laughed, the sound warm with memory. "You were such a show-off, diving off those rocks."
"Only because I wanted to impress you," Harry admitted, his gaze fond as it rested on her face. "Did it work?"
"Maybe a little," Y/N conceded with a smile. "Though I was more impressed when you stood up to those boys who were bothering me at the village festival."
Harry's expression darkened slightly at the memory. "Wankers," he muttered, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I wanted to do more than just tell them off."
"My hero," Y/N teased gently, reaching across to squeeze his ankle where it rested near her hip. "Even then."
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the occasional pop and crackle of the fire. Harry seemed lost in thought, his thumb absently tracing the rim of his glass.
"I thought about you," he said suddenly, his voice quieter than before. "After that summer. After my mother made sure we never returned to that house."
Y/N's heart squeezed at the admission. "I thought about you too," she confessed. "I kept expecting to see you the next summer, and the next. I didn't understand why you never came back."
Harry's jaw tightened, the familiar tension that always appeared when his mother was mentioned. "She knew I liked you. Said you were...a distraction. That I needed to focus on my future, not waste time with 'some village girl.'"
The bitterness in his voice was palpable, even after all these years.
"It wasn't just that summer, you know," Harry continued after a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire rather than her face. "I thought about you during all the big moments. My first major award, the first time I played Wembley...even stupid things, like the first time I got properly drunk or when I got my first tattoo."
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, imagining a younger Harry carrying thoughts of her through the milestones of his extraordinary life.
"I wondered if you were watching," he admitted softly. "If you ever saw me on TV or in a magazine and thought about that summer too."
"I did," Y/N assured him, setting her wine glass on the coffee table so she could move closer to him on the sofa. "I saw everything. Your first album, that ridiculous haircut you had in 2014..."
Harry laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension that had built between them. "Hey, that hair was iconic," he protested, reaching out to tug gently on a strand of her own hair. "But seriously...you kept track of me?"
Y/N nodded, settling against his side as his arm came around her shoulders. "How could I not? You were everywhere. And then suddenly you were this massive star, and I was just..."
"Just what?" Harry prompted when she trailed off.
Y/N shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Just the girl who used to know you. Before."
Harry's arm tightened around her, pulling her more firmly against him. "You were never 'just' anything to me," he said firmly. "Even when I was being a total prick to you during those first months of our arrangement."
Y/N smiled against his shoulder, recognizing the apology wrapped in his words. "You had your moments," she acknowledged lightly.
They settled into another comfortable silence, Harry's fingers idly playing with the ends of her hair. The fire had died down slightly, casting the room in a soft, golden glow that made everything feel slightly dreamlike.
"What about your first?" Harry asked suddenly, the question seeming to surprise even him as it left his mouth.
Y/N lifted her head from his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion. "My first what?"
A faint flush colored Harry's cheeks, visible even in the dim light. "Your first time," he clarified, his voice carefully neutral despite the intensity that had appeared in his eyes. "You never told me about that."
Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic. "Oh," she said, sitting up slightly. "Um, it was nothing special, really. I was nineteen, at university. His name was David and he was in my English literature course."
Something flickered across Harry's face. A tightening around his eyes, a slight clench of his jaw.
"Was he..." Harry began, then seemed to reconsider his words. "Were you together long?"
Y/N shook her head, increasingly aware of the tension radiating from Harry's body beside her. "A few months. He transferred to another university the following term."
Harry nodded, his expression still carefully controlled. "And after him?"
Y/N studied his face, beginning to understand the direction of his thoughts. "There were a few others," she admitted quietly. "Nothing serious. No one that lasted."
Harry's gaze dropped to his glass, his thumb resuming its restless circuit around the rim. "Right," he said, his voice slightly rougher than before. "Course there were."
Recognizing the hurt beneath his attempt at nonchalance, Y/N reached out to take the glass from his hand, setting it beside her wine on the coffee table before turning back to face him fully.
"Harry," she said gently, waiting until he looked at her. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture she'd come to recognize as a sign of discomfort or frustration.
"It's stupid," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
"Tell me anyway," Y/N encouraged, placing a hand on his knee.
Harry was quiet for a long moment, his internal struggle visible in the furrow of his brow. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost reluctant.
"I just...I hate that I missed it," he admitted. "That someone else was your first. That I wasn't there."
The raw honesty in his voice made Y/N's heart ache. She moved closer, taking his hand in both of hers.
"Harry..."
"I know it's ridiculous," he continued, the words coming faster now. "I know it doesn't matter. I've been with other people too obviously. But sometimes I think about all those years we lost, all the firsts we could have had together, and it just..."
He trailed off, shaking his head as though frustrated by his inability to articulate the feeling.
"It hurts," Y/N finished for him softly.
Harry nodded, finally meeting her gaze. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It fucking hurts."
Y/N shifted to straddle his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, bringing their faces level. She cradled his face in her hands, thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice firm despite its softness. "Those people, David, the others, they weren't you. They were just...placeholders. Attempts to find something that felt half as real as what I felt with you during that one summer when we were sixteen."
Harry's hands came to rest on her waist, his grip tightening slightly at her words.
"Every relationship I had failed because none of them were you," Y/N continued, her gaze steady on his. "None of them made me feel the way you did, the way you do. They were first in chronology only, Harry. They were never first in my heart."
A flash of vulnerability crossed Harry's face, so raw and honest that it nearly took Y/N's breath away.
"Really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N nodded, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. "Really," she confirmed. "And as for all that lost time..."
She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze directly. "We have now," she reminded him. "We have tomorrow, and next week, and next year. We have all the time in the world to make new firsts together."
The tension in Harry's body began to ease, his hands sliding around to the small of her back, drawing her closer against him.
"What kind of firsts did you have in mind?" he asked, a hint of his usual playfulness returning to his voice.
Y/N smiled, relieved to see the darkness lifting from his expression. "Well, we've never been to Paris together," she suggested. "Or gone skiing. Or ran a marathon."
Harry's lips curved into a smile, his thumbs tracing small circles at the base of her spine. "Those all sound good," he agreed. "What about more immediate firsts?"
His meaning was clear in the sudden heat of his gaze, the slight shift of his body beneath hers. Y/N felt an answering warmth bloom low in her belly.
"I'm listening," she murmured, her fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck.
Harry's smile turned wicked, his hands moving to cup her hips more firmly. "We've never made love in this library," he pointed out, his voice dropping to a register that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "Seems like an oversight."
Y/N pretended to consider this, though her racing pulse betrayed her affected nonchalance. "The sofa is rather comfortable," she acknowledged.
"And the door locks," Harry added, his thumbs now slipping beneath the hem of her sweater to find the warm skin beneath.
Y/N leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "And I've never had sex in front of a fireplace before."
A low groan escaped Harry's throat, his hands tightening on her waist. "Now that," he said, his voice rough with desire, "is a first I'd very much like to remedy."
Without warning, he stood, lifting Y/N with him as though she weighed nothing. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her the short distance to the plush rug in front of the hearth.
He laid her down with unexpected gentleness, the firelight casting golden highlights across her skin as he helped her out of her sweater. His own shirt followed, revealing the familiar landscape of tattoos across his chest and arms.
As Harry settled over her, his weight supported on his forearms, Y/N reached up to trace the line of his jaw with her fingertips.
"I love you," she told him softly, the words still new enough to send a thrill through her when she said them. "Past, present, and future. All of it. Every version of you."
Something fierce and tender flashed in Harry's eyes as he bent to capture her lips in a kiss that spoke of possession, protection, and profound love.
"You're mine now," he murmured against her mouth, his hand sliding down to grip her thigh, hitching it higher against his hip. "And I'm yours. And I plan to make up for every second of those ten years we lost."
Y/N arched beneath him as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Starting now?" she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
Harry lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as they met hers. "Starting now," he confirmed, his voice a low growl that promised delicious things to come. "And I'm going to take my fucking time about it."
As his mouth descended to her collarbone, then lower still, Y/N surrendered to the exquisite sensation of being thoroughly, completely loved by the man who had always held her heart, even during the years they'd spent apart.
Lost time could never be reclaimed, but new memories could be created—first upon first, moment upon moment, building a future together that would render the past nothing more than prologue to their real story.
And as Harry's talented mouth and hands drew gasps and then cries from her lips, Y/N knew with absolute certainty that their best firsts were still ahead of them.
---
Later, much later, they lay tangled together on the rug, a throw blanket hastily pulled from the sofa draped across their cooling bodies. The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in a soft, red glow that made Harry's skin look like burnished gold where it pressed against hers.
His head rested on her chest, her fingers lazily combing through his tousled hair as their breathing gradually slowed to normal.
"That was definitely a first," Y/N murmured, amusement coloring her voice. "I don't think I've ever...quite like that..."
Harry chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Told you I'd make it memorable," he said, pressing a kiss to the curve of her breast.
"Mmm, mission accomplished," Y/N assured him, stretching languidly beneath him. "Though I may never look at this library the same way again."
Harry propped himself up on one elbow, his expression smug as he surveyed the evidence of their passion. Clothing scattered across the rug, the cushions from the sofa knocked to the floor, and Y/N's wine glass miraculously still upright but entirely forgotten.
"Good," he said with satisfaction. "That was the plan."
Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her smile. "You're ridiculous."
"You love it," Harry countered, bending to steal another kiss.
"I do," Y/N agreed when they parted, her tone more serious. "I love all of you”
Something vulnerable flickered in Harry's eyes, a glimpse of the insecurity that had sparked their earlier conversation.
"Even though I wasn't your first?" he asked, his attempt at a light tone not quite masking the genuine question beneath.
Y/N reached up to cup his face, making sure he was looking directly at her when she replied. "You're my last," she told him firmly. "That's what matters."
The tension in Harry's expression eased, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Your last," he repeated, as though testing the weight of the words. "I like the sound of that."
Y/N smiled back, her thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip. "Besides," she added with deliberate lightness, "we have plenty of firsts still ahead of us."
"Like what?" Harry asked, settling back down beside her, his arm draped possessively across her waist.
Y/N pretended to consider, her fingers trailing along the tattoos on his forearm. "Well, there's our first Christmas together, properly together, I mean."
Harry nodded, his expression warming at the thought. "I've already got your gift," he admitted. "Been planning it for weeks."
“Harry...it's March,” Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "No hints?"
"Not a chance," Harry replied with a grin. "You'll just have to wait."
Y/N made a face at him, then continued her list. "There's our first anniversary, of this, I mean. Us being real."
"Three months down," Harry noted, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Lifetime to go."
The casual certainty with which he spoke of their future sent a warm glow spreading through Y/N's chest.
"Our first vacation together," she continued softly. "Our first home that we choose together, rather than just me moving into yours."
Harry's eyes brightened at that. "We could start looking," he suggested, his enthusiasm evident. "Something that's ours from the beginning."
Y/N smiled, touched by his eagerness. "I'd like that," she told him.
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the occasional pop from the dying fire. Harry's hand had begun a slow, absent-minded caress along her side, from ribs to hip and back again.
"You know," he said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "when I think about it now, maybe it's better this way."
Y/N turned her head to look at him, curious. "What do you mean?"
Harry shifted slightly, propping himself up again so he could see her face properly. "If we'd been each other's firsts back then, if we'd never lost those years, we might not appreciate what we have now as much."
Y/N considered this, surprised by the insight. "That's...actually quite profound," she acknowledged.
Harry's lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile. "Don't sound so shocked," he chided gently. "I do occasionally have deep thoughts."
Y/N laughed, stretching up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "I know you do," she assured him. "And you might be right. Maybe we needed those years apart to become the people who could make this work."
Harry nodded, his expression turning serious again. "I know I did," he admitted. "I was a mess after my first album took off. Arrogant, selfish...I wouldn't have been good for you then."
"And I was too lost after my father died," Y/N confessed quietly. "Too focused on taking care of my family to have anything left for anyone else."
Harry's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining on the blanket between them. "So maybe the timing is perfect," he suggested. "Maybe now is exactly when we were meant to find our way back to each other."
Y/N squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of rightness settle over her. "I think you might be right," she agreed softly. "Though I still wish..."
"What?" Harry prompted when she trailed off.
Y/N sighed, a wistful smile touching her lips. "I still wish I could have seen you perform for the first time," she admitted. "Your very first show. I bet you were terrified."
Harry laughed, the sound rich with memory. "Absolutely bricking it," he confirmed. "My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the microphone."
"I wish I'd been there," Y/N said, her tone tinged with regret.
Harry studied her face for a moment, then sat up abruptly, the blanket pooling around his waist. "Wait here," he instructed, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before standing.
Y/N watched in bemusement as he crossed the room naked, disappearing through the library door. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, then the distant sound of a drawer opening and closing.
A few minutes later he returned, a small black device in his hand. As he settled back beside her on the rug, Y/N recognized it as a portable hard drive.
"What's this?" she asked, sitting up and pulling the blanket around her shoulders.
Harry held up the drive, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "I have videos," he explained. "From the early days. My mum filmed a lot of it, and then the label had people documenting everything once we started getting attention."
Y/N's eyes widened in understanding. "Including your first performance?"
Harry nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Including that," he confirmed. "And a lot of other firsts. First TV appearance, first award show, first stadium concert..."
He held out the drive to her, his expression suddenly vulnerable despite his earlier confidence. "I want you to see them," he told her quietly. "All of them. If you want to."
Y/N took the drive, cradling it in her palm as though it were infinitely precious—which, in many ways, it was. A record of all the moments she'd missed, offered now as a gift to bridge the gap of those lost years.
"Harry," she breathed, looking up at him with eyes that shimmered with unshed tears. "I don't know what to say."
He shrugged, though the casualness of the gesture was belied by the intensity in his gaze. "Say you'll watch them with me," he suggested. "Tomorrow night, maybe. We can order in, make a proper evening of it."
Y/N nodded, too moved to speak for a moment. When she found her voice again, it was thick with emotion. "I'd love that," she told him. "Thank you."
Harry's smile was soft, almost shy. "I want to share it all with you," he said simply. "Even the parts you couldn't be there for."
Y/N leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips that conveyed all the love and gratitude she couldn't quite put into words. When they parted, she brushed her thumb along his cheekbone, marveling at the man before her. So different from the boy she'd known, yet somehow still the same in all the ways that mattered.
"I love you," she told him, the words feeling both familiar and new each time she said them. "
Harry's arms came around her, pulling her against his chest as he lay back on the rug, bringing her with him. "And I love all of you," he murmured against her hair. "Yesterday, today, and every tomorrow we have coming."
As they lay together in the dying firelight, the hard drive safely set aside on the coffee table, Y/N felt the last lingering shadows of their time apart begin to recede. They couldn't reclaim the past, but they could share it with each other. It wasn't perfect. It was better than that.
It was real.
Harry's expression had just begun to settle into contentment when Y/N shifted against him, propping herself up slightly to look at his face. Something in her eyes, a mixture of shyness and mischief, caught his attention immediately.
"What?" he asked, his lips curving into a curious smile. "You've got that look."
"What look?" Y/N countered, feigning innocence despite the telltale flush creeping up her cheeks.
Harry reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering against her skin. "The one that says you're about to either tell me something important or completely upend my world," he explained, his tone light but his eyes attentive. "Possibly both."
Y/N bit her lower lip, hesitating for a moment before she spoke.
"I was just thinking," she began, her fingers tracing abstract patterns on his chest, following the lines of his tattoos, "if it makes you feel any better about all those firsts we missed..."
She paused, meeting his gaze with a softness that made his breath catch.
"That day in the woods, right before you left for good. Remember that?"
A shadow of recognition passed over Harry's face, followed by something warmer, more intimate.
"Course I do," he said quietly, his hand coming up to cover hers where it rested against his heart. "Last day of summer. I snuck away from that ridiculous garden party my mum made me attend."
Y/N nodded, a small smile playing at her lips at the accuracy of his memory. "You wore that blue button-up shirt your mother insisted on, but you'd rolled the sleeves up and undone the top buttons the minute you were out of her sight."
Harry chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly beneath her palm. "Bloody thing was choking me," he recalled. "And it was so hot that day."
"It was," Y/N agreed, her eyes taking on a faraway look as she traveled back to that August afternoon. "We went to that clearing by the old oak tree. The one with the rope swing."
"Where you always refused to go higher than the second knot," Harry teased gently, his thumb stroking across her knuckles.
Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "Some of us had a healthy respect for gravity, Harold."
His laugh was genuine this time, warming her from the inside out.
"We stayed out there for hours," she continued, her voice softening. "Just talking about nothing and everything. You told me your mum was making you go to some posh boarding school in the fall."
Harry's expression sobered slightly at the memory. "I didn't want to go," he admitted. "I begged her to let me stay at the local school, but she wouldn't hear of it."
"You were so angry," Y/N remembered. "I'd never seen you like that before."
Harry's jaw tightened briefly. "It wasn't just about the school," he confessed. "She'd told me that morning we wouldn't be coming back the next summer. That she'd found a 'more suitable' vacation spot in the South of France."
Y/N's eyes widened slightly. "You never told me that part."
"Didn't want to ruin our last day," Harry said with a small shrug that didn't quite disguise the old hurt. "Thought if I didn't say it out loud, maybe it wouldn't be real."
Y/N's heart ached for the sixteen-year-old boy he'd been, forced into a life he hadn't chosen, separated from the things, and people, that mattered to him.
"You looked so beautiful," Harry murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek. "The sun was setting behind you, turning your hair to gold, and I just...I couldn't help myself."
"You kissed me," Y/N whispered, turning her face slightly to press her lips against his palm. "Right there by the stream, with the crickets starting to sing and the fireflies just beginning to come out."
Harry's thumb brushed across her bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement. "Best decision I ever made," he said softly.
Y/N met his gaze steadily, her heart racing as she prepared to share the piece of herself she'd kept tucked away all these years.
"It was my first," she told him quietly. "My first kiss, Harry."
For a moment, Harry went completely still, his eyes widening fractionally as her words registered.
"What?" he breathed, searching her face as though looking for confirmation that he'd heard her correctly.
Y/N nodded, a shy smile curving her lips. "You were my first kiss," she repeated. "I'd never kissed anyone before that moment."
A complex mix of emotions flickered across Harry's face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, sitting up slightly, bringing them even closer together. "I would have—I don't know, made it more special or something."
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head at his concern. "It was already perfect," she assured him, reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. "You were perfect."
Harry caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm that made her breath catch.
"I had no idea," he said, his voice tinged with wonder. "I thought—I assumed you must have kissed other boys before me."
Y/N shook her head again. "There was only you," she told him softly. "I was shy, remember? And none of the boys at school made me feel the way you did."
Something fierce and tender flashed in Harry's eyes at her admission.
"So I was your first," he said, a note of satisfaction entering his voice as he pulled her closer, until she was practically in his lap, the blanket slipping to pool around their waists.
"You were my first," Y/N confirmed, her arms sliding around his neck. "And if things had been different—if your mother hadn't taken you away, if we'd had the chance..."
She didn't need to finish the thought. The understanding that passed between them was perfect and complete.
"You would have been my only," Harry murmured, completing her unspoken sentence. "My first and my last."
Y/N nodded, suddenly finding it difficult to speak around the lump in her throat.
Harry drew her impossibly closer, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling in the small space between them.
"I didn't know," he said again, his voice rough with emotion. "That day, that kiss, it meant everything to me. But knowing I was your first..."
He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate the depth of what he was feeling.
"Does it help?" Y/N asked softly, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Knowing you were the first person to kiss me?"
Harry pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his green eyes dark and serious. "It shouldn't matter," he admitted. "It's ridiculous that it does. But..."
"But it does," Y/N finished for him, understanding completely.
Harry nodded, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah," he agreed. "It does."
His hand came up to cup the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss that was at once achingly tender and possessively claiming. When they parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against hers once more.
"You were fifteen," he murmured, a hint of teasing entering his voice. "Practically ancient for a first kiss."
Y/N laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder. "Excuse me for having standards," she retorted.
Harry's answering laugh was warm against her skin. "High standards," he agreed, his hands sliding down to her waist. "The highest."
"I was waiting for someone worth waiting for," Y/N told him, her tone light but her words utterly sincere.
Something in Harry's expression shifted, the teasing fading into something more profound.
"Thank you for telling me," he said quietly, brushing a soft kiss against her temple. "It means more than you know."
Y/N nodded, understanding the complex tangle of emotions behind his simple words. The pride, the possessiveness, the bittersweet joy of knowing he'd been her first in at least one significant way.
"I wanted you to know," she told him softly. "That even though we lost all those years, even though there were others after you...you were still my first. The one that mattered most."
Harry's arms tightened around her, his face buried in the curve of her neck. For a moment, they simply held each other, the weight of the past and the promise of the future suspended between them.
"I love you," Harry murmured against her skin, the words simple but weighted with everything he felt for her. "I think I've loved you since that day by the stream."
Y/N's hand came up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers gentle in his hair. "I love you too," she whispered. "I always have."
As they sank back down onto the rug, their bodies entwining with renewed purpose, Y/Nx knew that this, what they shared now, was worth every moment of waiting, every heartache of separation. They might have missed some firsts, but the ones they'd shared had shaped them both in ways neither could fully articulate.
And as Harry's lips found hers again, she knew with absolute certainty that the best firsts, their firsts, together, were still to come.
FIRST - i write mainly smut, but there will definitely be fluffy and angsty fics all the time, so don't worry; there's something for everyone! can't find what you're looking for? request your idea in the 'talk to me' box on my profile and i'll see what i can do! keep in mind this post will be updated as i post more :)
i'll take requests about almost any trope or au, but if i end up getting requests i'm uncomfortable with, i'll let you guys know along the way. even so, know that this is always a safe space no matter what!
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One Shots & Blurbs
right person, wrong address
When an envelope meant for Harry Styles ends up in your mailbox, what started with misdelivered mail might end up delivering something neither of you expected.
cabin pressure* cruising altitude (pt.2)*
He's your boss. You're his assistant. But 30,000 feet in the air, it's not exactly tour logistics he's asking you to handle.
Series
sugar, baby*
He pays in cash. You pay in obedience. a sugardaddy!harry styles x reader au series
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thank you so much for being here! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕
Description: when Nora finds out her best friend Harry makes adult content, curiosity turns into something much more. One video leads to another, and soon they’re filming, posting, and falling into something hotter—and deeper—than either of them expected.
Warnings: this one-shot series contains explicit sexual content, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, light spanking, voyeurism/exhibitionism, filming of sexual acts, and public sharing of adult content. Readers +18.
Words count: 6.2K.
I NEED HOLY WATER AFTER THIS ONE 🔥
also if you guys want a request you can hit me up
*****
I never thought I’d catch my best friend in bed with someone—not like that, anyway. Technically, Harry was alone. But he wasn’t exactly just lying there.
I only meant to grab my hoodie. I’d left it at his apartment the night before, and he told me to swing by whenever—I had the code, I always did. We’d been best friends since freshman year, and by now, walking into his place felt like second nature. But I wasn’t expecting the soft, rhythmic moaning drifting from his bedroom.
I froze. I wasn’t sure whether to knock, run, or just melt into the floor and pretend I didn’t exist. But curiosity—my most dangerous trait—kicked in.
It was faint, but familiar. Not the voice. The sound. Video. It was coming from his laptop. Relief washed through me so fast I almost laughed. Of course Harry wasn’t hooking up right now. He was watching something. But then I heard his voice.
“Yeah? You like that?” Low. Smooth. Just cocky enough. My stomach flipped.
I stepped closer. Just a little. His door was cracked open, the way it always was when he was alone. And yeah, it was his voice. Confident. Teasing. Definitely not acting. He wasn’t watching the video. He was in it.
I stood there a second too long, heat flooding my face, unable to look away from the shadow of him on the screen—shirtless, his mouth curved in that same smug little grin he used on me when he was winning at Mario Kart or stealing the last slice of pizza.
Then I turned around and left the apartment like it was on fire.
I didn’t bring it up for two days. He texted like normal. Memes. Random photos of his dog. A video of some guy skateboarding with a gallon of milk. I ignored them all.
Then finally—finally—he called me.
“Nora. Did I do something?”
I stared at his name glowing on my screen, thumb hovering over the answer button. My heart thudded like I was guilty of something, like I was the one who’d been caught moaning into a camera.
I answered. “Hey.”
“You’ve been weird.”
I bit my lip. “Have I?”
He sighed. “You’re doing the thing where you pretend everything’s fine but you’re actually spiraling and probably making a pros and cons list about whether I’m still your friend.”
I let out a small laugh. “That’s… specific.”
“Because I know you. So tell me what I did.” There was a long silence.
Then I said, “I came by to get my hoodie. A couple days ago.” Pause.
“Oh,” he said. Then again, softer, “Oh.”
“Yeah.” More silence.
Then, casually—like we were talking about what to order for dinner—he asked, “Did you watch the whole thing?”
“Harry!”
He laughed, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m kidding. Kind of.”
I groaned. “I didn’t mean to walk in on your… work.”
He went quiet again. Then, gently, he said, “That’s what it is, you know. Work.”
I sank into my bed. “I’m not judging. I just didn’t know you were… doing that.”
“You never asked.”
“I didn’t think I had to!”
He chuckled. “It’s not exactly a secret.”
I hesitated. “So… how long have you been doing it?”
“A little over a year.”
My mouth went dry. “Like… just solo? Or—”
“Mostly solo,” he said. “Sometimes not.” Oh.
I tried to picture him filming like that with someone else. I shouldn’t have. But I did.
“And… you’re okay with people watching you like that?” I asked, quieter now.
He waited. “Would it bother you if I said yes?”
“I don’t know.”
His voice dropped just enough to make me shiver. “Did it bother you when you saw me?”
I didn’t answer. But he must’ve heard it in my silence.
Then he said, “I’ve been thinking about asking you.”
My breath caught. “Asking me what?”
“To make a video. With me.”
I swallowed. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Harry…”
“You don’t have to say yes,” he said quickly. “I’d never push. But you asked if it bothers me when people watch—and no, it doesn’t. Not if I’m with someone I actually want.”
My heart was pounding.
“And you’d want that,” I said, my voice smaller. “With me?”
He exhaled into the phone like I’d asked the dumbest question in the world. “Nora. I’ve wanted you since sophomore year.”
My cheeks burned. “You’ve never said anything.”
“You’ve never looked at me the way you did after you saw that video.”
I felt dizzy. Like I’d just stepped off a cliff and wasn’t sure whether I’d land or fly.
“Nora,” he said, softer now. “I’m serious. If you’re curious… if you want this… we could try it. Just us. No pressure. No posting. Just… see what it’s like.”
I didn’t say yes. Not yet. But I didn’t hang up either. And that silence? That was my maybe.
I didn’t sleep much after that call. Not because I was uncomfortable—but because I couldn’t stop thinking. About what he said. About the way he said it. I kept replaying his voice, that calm, confident tone like he wasn’t just throwing out some wild suggestion, but offering me something I didn’t know I wanted until it was right in front of me. And the worst part? I did want it.
I wasn’t sure what that said about me, but I was sure about that. So the next night, I texted him:
Nora: If we did it… just us. No camera. Just to try it. Would that be okay? He called me almost immediately.
His voice was softer this time, slower. “Yeah. That’d be more than okay.”
*****
It didn’t happen right away. He came over like it was normal—pizza, sweatpants, a dumb movie we both knew we wouldn’t pay attention to. But the air between us had changed. Everything felt closer. More charged. He was watching me. Not in the way best friends did. Not like Harry. Like someone who wanted to take their time peeling me open, layer by layer, just to see how I’d fall apart.
“Still okay?” he asked when the movie was barely halfway done, his fingers brushing my knee like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch me yet.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I just… I’ve never done something like this before.”
“With me,” he said, leaning closer. “You’ve never done something like this with me.”
I smiled, nervous and warm all over. “Is that supposed to make it better?”
“God, I hope so.”
I didn’t even realize how close we were until his hand slid over mine. Until I felt his thumb tracing the space between my knuckles like it was the most natural thing in the world. My whole body lit up like it was suddenly tuned to just him.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” he said softly. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”
“I know.” I hesitated. “But I want to.” That was all it took.
He kissed me like he’d been waiting forever. Slow at first, like a question. Like he was giving me space to change my mind. But I didn’t—I couldn’t. I melted into him, his hand tilting my chin just enough to deepen it, just enough to make me gasp when his tongue slid against mine.
He pulled back only a breath. “Still okay?”
“I’m never going to say no to that again.”
His grin was cocky and devastating. “Then come here.”
We barely made it to my bedroom. He tugged my hand, pulling me into him, our mouths crashing again with more hunger this time. Every step we took felt like something unspoken breaking wide open. My back hit the door. His hands framed my waist. And then I was on the bed, heart pounding, breath caught somewhere between anticipation and need.
“I’ve pictured this,” he murmured, crawling over me, his mouth brushing my jaw, my neck. “Too many times.”
“You’re not the only one,” I whispered, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. “Take this off.”
He grinned and peeled it over his head, tossing it to the floor. I dragged my hands down his chest, slow, tentative, until he leaned down and kissed me again—deeper now. His hips pressed against mine, and I could feel how hard he was already, even through his sweats. Clothes slipped away between kisses and soft gasps. He undressed me gently, his fingers teasing the straps of my bra down my arms, lips brushing my skin as he bared it. I felt stripped down in more ways than one—every look, every touch, like he was discovering something he didn’t want to rush.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, thumb grazing the underside of my breast before taking one into his mouth. I moaned, arching beneath him, my fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked, then switched sides, lavishing slow attention that sent heat rushing straight between my legs.
His hand slid down my stomach, fingers slipping beneath my underwear. I inhaled sharply as he found me—already wet, already aching.
“God, Nora,” he groaned. “You’re soaked.”
He circled my cl*t with slow, steady pressure, drawing a whimper from me. I couldn’t stop moving, hips tilting into every stroke as he leaned in to kiss me again, his mouth swallowing the breathy sounds I couldn’t hold back.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against my lips, two fingers sliding inside me with an ease that made me moan.
“You,” I whispered. “I want you.”
He pulled his hand back, kissed me once more, then sat up just long enough to shove his sweats off and roll a condom on. I couldn’t stop staring—flushed and panting, wanting him more than I’d ever wanted anything. When he lined himself up and pushed into me, it was slow. Gentle. His eyes locked on mine as he stretched me open inch by inch, giving me time to adjust, giving me everything.
“F*ck,” he groaned, settling deep. “You feel so good. Better than I ever imagined.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, breath catching as he started to move—each thrust building, deeper, smoother, more insistent. My legs locked around his waist, dragging him closer. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, over and over.
The room blurred around us—heat, skin, breath, sound. He filled me completely, his hips rolling into mine, our bodies meeting over and over until I was gasping his name, nails digging into his back.
“I’m close,” I whispered.
His thumb found my clit, rubbing tight circles as his rhythm picked up. “Come for me, baby.”
And I did—my whole body tightening, then unraveling in waves as I clenched around him, crying out his name. He followed right after, burying his face in my neck as he groaned and thrust deep one last time, his whole body shuddering with release.
After, we lay tangled in the sheets, the silence full but not awkward. He looked over at me, hair messy, eyes soft. “So…”
I turned my head. “So.”
“Was that a one-time thing?”
I smiled, heart thudding again. “I don’t think I want it to be.”
His grin returned—easy, sweet, smug as hell. “Good.”
Then he rolled on top of me again, warm and familiar, but now with a spark I knew would never go back to innocent.
“I meant it, you know,” he murmured. “If we do ever want to make something… I’d want it to be with you.”
I kissed him, just once, slow and deep. “I’ll let you know.” And judging by the look in his eyes, he knew I would.
*****
It took me a week to say yes. Not because I didn’t want to. I did. I thought about it every night—what it would be like to let him touch me again, to do it with his camera watching. I thought about how his voice sounded when he got serious, how gentle he was even when he moved like he was starving for me. But this time was different.
This time, someone else would see it—could see it. Even if we said no one would. Even if it stayed between us. It was the idea of being seen that lingered in the back of my mind. And the part I couldn’t ignore? It turned me on more than it scared me.
So when he came over, kissed me like he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either, and whispered, “You still want to try?”—I whispered yes into his mouth like it was the answer I’d been holding onto since the moment I walked in on that video.
He didn’t set up a whole production. It was just his phone on a tripod, angled carefully, lighting soft and natural from the string lights around my room. No pressure. No performance. Just us.
“You good?” he asked, kneeling next to the bed, watching me with a look that was all reassurance and heat.
“I’m nervous,” I said, glancing at the phone. “But… kind of excited too.”
He leaned in, his voice low against my lips. “You’re allowed to be both.”
I gave a shaky breath and looked back at the lens. “So that’s really recording right now?”
Harry smiled. “Yep. You want to say hi?”
I laughed—nervous, breathless. Then I turned to the camera with a slow smile and said softly, “Guess we’re doing this.”
He kissed me, and it was slow and deep, like he was warming me up from the inside out. He peeled off my shirt, then reached behind me to undo my bra, tossing it aside. “God, look at you,” he murmured, glancing at the camera, then back at me. “You’re gonna drive them insane.”
“They’re not watching yet,” I whispered.
“No,” he said, mouth brushing my neck. “But I am.”
His hands moved over me, slow and sure, cupping my breasts as he kissed down to them. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked lightly, then looked up at me while doing it, watching the way my lips parted and my back arched.
“You wanna show them how good it feels?” he asked.
I looked into the lens, cheeks burning, and whispered, “He’s really good with his mouth.”
Harry chuckled low and wicked, switching to the other side. “Keep talking like that and I’m not gonna last.”
He moved lower, dragging my shorts and panties down in one smooth motion, his hands stroking up my thighs.
“Open up for me, sweetheart,” he said.
I did—nervous, turned on, and very aware of the camera now capturing every second. He lowered his mouth to my center, his tongue flicking over my cl*t in slow, teasing circles. I moaned, grabbing the sheets, but he didn’t let up. If anything, he licked deeper, more deliberately, humming softly against me.
“F*ck,” I gasped. “Harry, that feels—”
“Amazing?” he offered, glancing up, his lips shiny. “Tell them how good I’m making you feel.”
I looked at the lens, dazed and breathless. “I’m gonna come just from his mouth.”
He groaned, like he needed to hear that, and then slid two fingers inside me, curling them perfectly. My body seized up as the orgasm hit—hot and sharp and all-consuming. I cried out, riding it out against his mouth, his name falling from my lips over and over. When I opened my eyes, Harry was watching me, completely focused.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, still breathless. “Better than okay.”
He kissed me—slow, filthy, sweet. I tasted myself on his lips and moaned softly into his mouth. Then he grabbed a condom from the drawer, rolled it on, and positioned himself between my legs.
“You wanna look at the camera while I f*ck you?” he asked, teasing.
I smiled, flushed and bold. “Maybe.”
He nudged the tip of his c*ck against my entrance. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
He slid in with one long, slow thrust, filling me completely. My eyes fluttered closed, and I let out a shaky moan.
“Look at them,” he whispered.
I forced my gaze open and found the camera. “He’s inside me,” I said, voice soft and shaky. “And it feels so f*cking good.”
Harry groaned above me and started to move, each thrust smooth and deep. His hands gripped my hips, dragging me against him as he rocked into me.
“You’re perfect,” he said. “So tight. So good for me.”
My legs wrapped around him. I couldn’t look away from the lens now—I wanted to be seen. I wanted to show how wrecked I was for him.
“You gonna come again?” he asked, fingers finding my clit.
“Yes—Harry, please, don’t stop—”
“Let them see it.”
I moaned louder as the orgasm built again, my body tightening, hips grinding into his.
“Right there,” he growled. “Come for me, baby.”
And I did—hard. Crying out, trembling under him as I clenched around him, eyes locked on the lens like I wanted them to feel it. Harry thrust harder, chasing his own release, eyes flicking between me and the camera.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned. “I’m gonna come—fuck—”
He pulled out just in time, stroking himself fast as he spilled across my stomach, chest heaving. The lens caught it all.
After, he turned off the camera and collapsed next to me, sweaty and smiling.
“You did so good,” he murmured, brushing hair from my face.
I laughed breathlessly. “That was insane.”
“You like being watched, huh?”
I bit my lip, still breathless. “Apparently.”
He leaned over and kissed me again. “Want to see how it turned out?”
I smiled, lazy and flushed. “Only if we’re naked again while we do.”
He groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
It started with the comment. Well—another comment. We were sprawled across his bed, phones glowing, scrolling through the chaos we’d unleashed online. The video was climbing faster than either of us expected, and the comments weren’t slowing down.
“Y’all got me feral. If she ever lets you f*ck her from behind, I need it filmed immediately.”
“Imagine her riding him with those little gasps—yes please.”
“We need to see her beg next time. She looks like she could be so filthy.”
I read that one twice. Then I passed him my phone. He blinked, read it slowly, then looked at me.
“You okay?” he asked, lips twitching.
I shrugged, biting back a grin. “I mean… I could be filthy.”
His brows lifted. “You could.”
I tilted my head. “You saying I haven’t been?”
He leaned in, lips brushing my jaw. “I’m saying… if you’re ready to go there, I’ll follow your lead.”
There was a moment of silence. Tension. Awareness. That subtle shift where something playful becomes serious—charged. Then I said, “Okay. Let’s film something else.”
Harry’s pupils blew wide. “You want to right now?”
I nodded. “But I want it different this time.”
“Tell me.”
“Less sweet. More…” I swallowed. “Rough. I want you to talk to me. Use me. I want to look into the camera and know they’re gonna lose their minds.”
He stared at me for a full beat, chest rising.
“Jesus, Nora,” he murmured. “You really are gonna ruin me.”
We set it up together this time. The tripod went higher, angled downward toward the bed. He adjusted the lighting, brought in a second soft lamp, and checked the shot while I peeled off my hoodie and climbed onto the sheets in just my matching black lingerie set.
“Holy fuck,” he said, just staring.
I smirked at the camera. “They wanted filth.”
“You’re giving it to them already and we haven’t even started.”
I crawled back toward the pillows, legs parted, head tilted. “So start.”
He hit record. He stripped as he walked over—slow and confident, his c*ck already thick and heavy as he climbed onto the bed.
“You look like a dream,” he murmured, settling between my legs. “You know that?”
I smiled, glancing at the camera. “Then stop staring and touch me.”
His hand wrapped around my neck—not hard, just firm enough to still me, to make me look up.
“You want rough?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You want them to see how pretty you look getting ruined?”
“Please.”
He leaned down and kissed me hard—open-mouthed, demanding. His hand slipped between my thighs, fingers stroking my soaked underwear. “You’re already wet.”
“You haven’t even done anything,” I whispered.
He tugged my panties aside and slid two fingers in without warning. I gasped.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re dripping, baby.”
I whined and bucked my hips. “Harry—”
“Shh.” He sat up on his knees, yanked my panties off completely, and spread my thighs wide. “Look at them,” he said.
I looked into the camera, breathing hard, legs open and trembling.
“Tell them how badly you want it.”
“I want him to f*ck me,” I said, flushed. “Hard. From behind. I want to feel him everywhere.”
He hissed. “Keep talking like that and I’m not gonna last.”
I rolled onto my stomach, arching my ass into the air, cheek to the sheets. “Then don’t wait.”
He groaned low in his throat, grabbed the condom from the nightstand, and rolled it on fast. The moment he lined up behind me, his hands gripped my waist, and he slammed into me with one hard thrust.
I cried out. “F*ck—yes.”
“That’s it,” he growled, pulling out and slamming back in. “Take it, baby. Just like that.”
His hips hit mine over and over, fast, brutal, perfect. I was gasping, panting, shaking.
“You hear those sounds?” he said. “That’s what you do to me. You hear how fucking wet you are?”
I moaned as he reached down and smacked my ass, once, then again, each one leaving a stinging warmth.
“Say something,” he panted. “Talk to them.”
I turned my head toward the camera, eyes half-lidded, voice shaking.
“You guys wanted to see him ruin me?” I moaned. “He’s fucking me like I belong to him.” Another hard thrust.
“You do belong to me,” he growled. “This perfect little p*ssy is mine.”
My orgasm built fast—hot and wild, dizzying as he drove into me, one hand wrapped in my hair now, the other gripping my hip like he needed me closer.
“I’m gonna come,” I cried out.
“Then come. Come with me deep inside you.”
And I did—my whole body spasming, collapsing forward into the sheets, mouth open in a silent moan as he f*cked me through it. Harry followed with a loud groan, pulling out to finish on my ass, chest heaving as he stroked himself through the last few spurts. The camera caught it all. We stayed like that for a beat—panting, messy, wrecked.
Then he leaned down and kissed my spine. “You just made the filthiest, hottest fucking video I’ve ever filmed.”
I turned my head, dazed. “You think they’ll like it?”
He smirked. “They’re gonna lose their minds.”
*****
They posted it the next morning. No warning. No teasing. Just a title—“She Wanted to Be Ruined.” It blew up within hours. By noon, Harry had over ten thousand new followers. By dinner, my DMs were full.
We laid in bed again, wrapped up in each other, reading the comments between kisses and bites of takeout.
“The way she says ‘I belong to him’? Ruined me.”
“Bro. That arch. That ass. That moan. That everything.”
“The way she talks to the camera like she knows she’s a fantasy? Obsessed.”
“That’s not porn. That’s art.”
“I’ll never recover from the way she looked back at the camera after he came on her.”
I buried my face in his chest, laughing, flustered, completely high on it.
“Think they liked it?” I teased.
Harry kissed the top of my head. “They worship you.”
“I kinda like it.”
“You love it.” I didn’t argue.
A notification popped up on his phone.
“Wanna go live?” he read aloud, then glanced at me. “We don’t have to talk about everything. Just… check in. Say hi. Let them see us.”
I raised a brow. “You think they’re ready for that?”
He smirked. “I think you’re their new obsession.”
I rolled onto my back, stretched, and grinned. “Then let’s give them a little more.”
The live Q&A was chaos. We propped the phone against the lamp, climbed under the blanket together—me in one of his oversized shirts, Harry shirtless with the most unapologetic grin—and hit “Go Live.” The chat exploded in seconds.
“THEY’RE ALIVE.”
“Nora you are a goddess what the hell.”
“Did she really come twice??”
“How does it feel to break the internet?”
I giggled and leaned into him. “You’ve created a monster.”
“She created herself,” he said to the chat. “I just helped bring it out.”
“Will you make more?”
“Is this just content or are you two together??”
“Please collab again I’m begging.”
“How did you stay hard while she was saying that stuff?”
Harry laughed, fingers brushing my thigh. “Barely.”
I looked at the camera. “We’re figuring it out. But I think it’s safe to say… there’s more coming.” The chat lost it.
We didn’t stay live long—just enough to tease, enough to connect. Enough to promise that whatever we were turning into, it wasn’t over yet. We didn’t say what it meant for us—what we were now. But I didn’t need to define it just yet. Not when I had his arm around me, my name on their lips, and the next idea already forming in the back of my mind.
synopsis: y/n and Harry are in a relationship. You and Harry were supposed to go to the bar together, when his flight was delayed due to weather, and forgot to press send when he was about to text you. So y/n went to the bar alone.
warnings: idk honestly, just read if you want :) nobody cares about the warning a anyways :) if you can read, then read.
This transcripts a text message with y/n and Harry
🖤 y/n Love 🖤 online
March 24th, 2025
Harry: Hi love, I’ve booked us a reservation remember?
y/n: Yeah! Can’t wait to see you ♥️
Harry: I was wondering if we could meet at the bar instead?
y/n: Sure! But why?
Harry: We’ll I wanted a drink after all the tours and stuff, and I finally get to see you irl after so long love ❤️
y/n: haha yeah! Ok i’ll meet you there at 10:00?
Harry: Yeah, perhaps 9pm? I want to spend more time with you, beautiful.
y/n: aww, ok. I’ll bring chocolates ☺️
March 25th, 2025
y/n: Can’t wait to see you tonight :)
——————————————————————————————————
😃: Hey y/n, My flight got delayed. And i wont be able to
arrive until 2:30 in the morning. I’ll see you On the 26th? (SEND)
Luv you.
——————————————————————————————————
end of transcript
-
It was 8:30 and you are in your bedroom debating on what you should wear. “if I were Harry, would i want to see me in white or pink?” Then you saw a red dress peeking out from your closet and decided to wear that instead.
you then started walking to the bar alone, without anyone, thinking Harry would be there waiting for you.
You then started texting Harry.
——————————————————————————————————
🖤 Harry Love 🖤 offline
March 25th, 2025
y/n: Can’t wait to see you tonight :)
y/n: hey! i’m walking over now, see you there.
y/n: you there?
y/n: Harry?
y/n: Oh, i get what your doing, you wanted to me a surprise when you get there! OK. Cya ❤️
——————————————————————————————————
End of transcript
-
Harry was still in the airport at Europe, dispite your excitement, you didn’t know Harry was not going to arrive. He was waiting patiently at the airport where the storm was taking place. The Wi-fi was bad, so he didn’t receive or send any messages.
Harry was sitting with the rest of the lads. Harry was feeling depressed he couldn’t spend the night with you. So he opened the chat and red the messages you and Harry and to bring up some memories.
“Shit!” Harry yelled. Niall and the rest of the lads walked over “What harry?” Zayn asked. “I forgot to press send. and y/n is probably walking over to the bar alone.” Harry said worriedly. “What if she gets in trouble. Everyone is drunk in the bar.”
“She’ll be fine” Louis said to Harry calming him down.
In the meantime, y/n was still walking over to the bar, holding a box of chocolates for Harry. you are about 10 minutes away from the bar.
-10 minutes later-
narrators POV
y/n has arrived to the bar, She looks left and right try spotting for Harry. She doesn’t see him, so she texts him.
transcripts a text conversation with harry
🖤 Harry love 🖤 offline
——
y/n: Oh, i get what your doing, you wanted to me a surprise when you get there! OK. Cya ❤️
y/n: Harry? Are you there yet? Please make it quick, I don’t like how everyone’s drunk.
y/n: Harry, don’t do this please…
y/n: I’ll wait for you inside, come quick.
y/n: I’ll wait for you till 10? i’ll go head home if i don’t see you 😔
y/n: I miss you… a lot
——————————————————————————————————
end of transcript
-
Meanwhile at the airport
“I’d like to know when the wi-fi will be back on?” Harry asked the lady in the customer service desperately.
“Sorry, that will take a while. The typhoon has blocked everything. What else can I do for you?” The lady said politely.
“Can you still make calls here? I told my girlfriend to meet me at the bar, but my flight got delayed. I scared she’ll get in trouble.” Harry said to the lady.
“yeah! We can make calls, but the connection might be weak.” The lady said while passing the wired phone to Harry. The lads all circled around giving him some company and comforting him.
*Harry calls y/n*
the transcript of the call
Harry: Y/n you there? Can you hear me?
y/n: Harry! Where are you?
Harry: I forgot to press send when telling you my flight will be delayed. There’s a huge storm here and there isn’t any connection. I could get any of your calls or texts.
y/n: (says) Oh ok… That’s fine anything else? I want to just make sure you’re coming home before tomorrow right? Also I think your breaking up. (Harry hears) Oh ok… I…want…breaking up…
Harry:(says) WHAT? I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner! I should have! Please don’t Break up with me. I love you. (Hears) …I’m sorry… tell you sooner… Break up with…you
y/n: Harry? you want to break up!? Why? What did I do? (Harry’s phone looses connection. and call ends) …Harry?…Harry?
-
End of transcript
-
What y/n does after:
y/n sniffs and starts crying. She goes inside the bar after 5 minutes and decides to go grab a drink after all that has happened. She drinks a lot, and she bumps into a man called Hector.
What Harry does after:
Harry breaks down and starts crying, he really loved y/n and thought she loved him back. his mates crowd around him and comfort him, but he’s still heartbroken.💔
-
y/n then bumps into Hector. “hey love, here alone?” Hector asked while y/n was drinking for 8th shot. “No! I’m here with someone.” y/n Yelled directly to Hector. Nobody started since most were drunk.
“Sure about that?” Hector said while slowly moving his fingers towards y/n and starts strolling her cheeks.
“You’re coming with me, red dress.” Hector demanded while smiling.
“no! Please just walk away. I’m having a hard day.” y/n said while moving slowly away from Hector. Hector then pulled his T-shirt up revealing his handgun. “You’re coming with me. What’s it going to be?” Hector threatening y/n while smiling.
y/n followed his instructions. y/n slipped his bracelet secretly before leaving with Hector, hoping harry would come if he’d notice she’s gone even though she thinks they’ve broken up, y/n still has her hopes up.
at the airport
The weather in Europe had finally settled down. Harry and the boys finally went on the plane and got ready to take off. It was around 11 at the time, and Harry was in desperation to know why y/n broke up with him that easily.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it harry.” Liam said to Harry while giving him a warm hug. They were stirring together and Louis, Niall and Zayn at the back.
-
at Hectors place
y/n is meaning while ties up onto a chair, unable to move her arms.
“Why? why me out of everyone else?” y/n questioned.
“do you not know me?” Hector questioned while walking closer and closer to y/n.
“no. and i don’t plan on knowing you.”
“Harry Styles, 25. He’s your boyfriend. He’s currently on a plane with his band mates Louis, Zayn Liam and Niall, since they have just finished their tour in Europe. Y/n L/n is Harry’s Girlfriend who is currently sitting at my basement patiently waiting for her boyfriend to save her.” Hector smiled. “I’m not a nobody y/n.”
“Who are you?” y/n confused and scared at the same time.
“I’m hector Mirel, Harry’s ex’s Brother.”
“Harry has an ex?” y/n asked. Hector nodded.
on the plane
plane announcement
*Attention all passengers, we have experienced some turbulence. Please return to your seats immediately and fasten your seat belt. We will be arriving soon. Thank you for your cooperation.*
“Harry, Harry!” Liam shook Harry aggressively. “what!” Harry whispered-scream. “There’s inflight wi-fi! Quick text Y/n” Harry then grabbed out his phone without hesitation and texted y/n.
this transcripts harry and y/n text conversation
🖤 y/n love 🖤 Offline
y/n: Oh, i get what your doing, you wanted to me a surprise when you get there! OK. Cya
y/n: Harry? Are you there yet? Please make it quick, I don't like how everyone's drunk.
y/n: Harry, don't do this please...
y/n: I'll wait for you inside, come quick.
y/n: I'll wait for you till 10? i'll go head home if i don't see you
y/n: 1 miss you... a lot
Harry: y/n! I’m so sorry. Let me explain everything. Please. Don’t break up with me… Reply as soon as you can. I love you 😔
Harry: Also I tried texting you, A LOT! but the wi-fi has broken up at the airport in Europe due to bad weather conditions. Please understand… I would have told you sooner.
Harry: y/n?
Harry: Please answer, I’ll be back soon.
——————————————————————————————————
end of transcript
-
“She’s not answering to any of my texts… help be Liam…” Harry pleaded. “She’s probably just asleep. It’s 12 already. Don’t worry too much.” Liam told harry while he was half asleep.
2:00 morning
Harry’s flight has landed, and after he went through all the security check, he ran out and quickly got a cab with him and the rest of the lads. They got to Harry’s house(Harry joke) and went up to find y/n, just to notice she wasn’t there.
“y/n? where is she?” Harry yelled
Niall and Zayn then ran into the room. “She’s not upstairs either.” Zayn yelled.
Harry then started to break down in tears, thinking y/n had left him. y/n wasn’t answering Harry’s calls or texts, which left i’m worried.
*Harry’s phone rings*
this transcripts the call between Harry and Hector
Harry: *sniff* Hello? Who is this.
Hector: Harry! don’t remember me aye.
Harry: (covers the speaker of the phone) Fuck! It’s hector…
Hector: Yeah, i have ears kid.
Harry: What did you do.
Hector: really? thought you’d realise by now.
Harry: You got y/n. Give her back.
Hector: you’d think i’d give her up that easily? yeah no…
Harry: Where are you.
Hector: the bar. come find me… I dare you.
Harry: fuck. Stay where you are. Don’t move.
end of transcript
-
harry and the lads got in Harry’s car and they rushy drove over to the bar y/n went. They arrived 10 minutes later. All 5 of them went inside, but y/n was nowhere to be seen.
“Fuck, Hector lied. She’s not here.” Harry said
Then Louis walked over with y/n’s bracelet. “But she was.” and I know where she might be.” said Louis.
Zayn got outside to start Harry’s car. Then they drove over to Hectors. His house was far from renovated. Assuming Hector has y/n hostage, they went in without hesitation.
“Finally, I’ve been expecting you. Harry.” Hector smirked while saying.
“where’s y/n? tell me before i beat the shit out of you.” Harry said.
“I’ll give her back, but after on a fight. You and me. 1V1 and the only rule is your boys can’t help you, or y/n is a dead girl.” Hector told Harry while moving closer to him.
“Why. I broke up with Janice for a reason Hector, I didn’t do it to hurt her, but she was a maniac! A literal maniac. So fine, I’ll fight you. But for y/n’s sake. And If i win, You’ll stay away from my life.” Harry yelled
“and if i win, you’ll have to go back with Janice.” Hector told Harry.
15 minutes later the fight ends
Harry and Hector were both bloody. Hector started gaining his energy back and stood up and kicked harry in the stomach. Harry then shifted his body towards his. And used his leg and tripped him down. Hector fell on the ground in pain and Harry got up and gave Hector a final kick.
"I win. Now stay away from her." Harry said, walking away from the scene.
"we'll do you want to know where she is as least?" Hector said from below the ground, head up. "She's in the basement, dumb ass."
Hector yelled.
Then the boys went to find y/n from the basement, and brought her back home. Where they explained everything.
At home
"Thanks Harry. I missed you a lot." y/n said. "Me too." Y/n and Harry hugged hard and smiled. "I'm sorry, please don't break up with me." Harry started breaking down in tears.
"But you broke up with me?" y/n said.
"i thought you did? did you not?" Harry sparked his excitement while being confused. He quickly hugged y/n and spun her around then pinning her onto the bed.
“the important thing is that you’re back, and I love you.” y/n said while giving Harry warm kisses in his neck.
"Let's leave them to it lads." Liam suggested. Harry was filled with happiness and so was y/n :)
A/N:
Just a fanfic or you and Harry together ♥️! If you liked it heart please! Also give me some ideas on future fanfics you’d want me to write:
Synopsis: Harry styles has dated Kendall for 7 years. after breaking up with you 7 years ago. Everyone saw them as a sweet couple. But one afternoon, Harry posts a new post saying that they have broken up, you finally get your chance to get him back.
Warning: nothing
also this fanfic was written by me during math lessons, so it’s shit. And probably full of spelling mistakes because it’s not proofread. But enjoy :) Also i might write different jobs for harry and kendall ( SOME PARTS ARE MADE UP! DON’T JUDGE )
2010
Transcripts and interview with Harry about his relationship.
Interviewer: Ah, I see you have finally open up about your new relationship with Kendall after the recent breakup with y/n! How does it feel?
Harry: To be honest, I always loved y/n, but love breaks at one point, and i love Kendall with all my heart. So i hope this relationship doesn’t turn out bad.
Interviewer: And how did you meet Kendall?
Harry: She was doing a model show downtown, and i was there to see it. And when i asked her out she said she’d give me a chance.
Interview: That’s wonderful Harry. So what made you break it with y/n?
Harry: y/n’s wonderful, but i felt like it wasn’t working…
Interviewer: Any specific details?
Harry: I really don’t mind sharing, but y/n would much rather keep her personal life private. But we mostly broke up because she was always busy making her new albums. I get that I am too an artist, but i find time to spend with her. She doesn’t do the same.
Interviewer: I see, I get that both of your music career is really complicated and the schedule is really tight.
-
2018
HarryStyles has shared a new post
liked by yourusername, HarryStylesFanAccount, Gemma023 and 8879 more
HarryStyles: Thank you all for attending the new Tour! It was amazing after taking a break for so long
user1: Harry finally decided to go on tour again!
user2: Dadddddyyyyy
user3: isn’t it weird? Harry didn’t bring Kendall on tour…
↪️user4: honestly, I never liked Kendall so I wouldn’t mind if they broke up.
↪️user5: Lol true, i miss u/n, Her music is GREAT! the perfect match for Harry.
-
HS_fan02 has shared a new post
liked by KatelynNg_3672, HarryStylesfanaccount, yourusername, and 788 more
HS_fan02: NO WAY! harry styles attending a red carpet without Kendall?! They never do that! On top of that, kendall attended another model show without Harry! WTF!
user1: how did I not notice!?
user2: They must have broken up
↪️ user3: yeah, no shit
user4: Any odds Harry gets back with y/n? She was so pretty and gentle! I miss her sm.
↪️ user5: YEAH! same here 😔.
-
2019
KenrryGossip_56 has shared a new post
BREAKING: Harry has refused to talk about his refused to talk about his long-term relationship with super model kendall jenner after being together for 7 years. Very rare occurrence from the singer, since he never shys away from his partner.
12:55am. March 24, 2025
——————————————————————————————————
789 retweets 266 quote Tweets 6377 likes
——————————————————————————————————
user1: I refuse to believe…
↪️ user2: sometimes life takes an unexpected turn.
user3: I hope harry gets back with y/n! PLEASEEEEE
user4:why did they break up.?
↪️ user5: Check out the new theory from HarryBreakup_2018 in tumblr! people are starting a whole new community and talking about it!
-
Comments:
user1: Wait, that honestly makes sense. How did I not notice!
user2: Honestly He could just be using a phrase.
user3: what are the odds…
user4: Start a get back with y/n chain!
↪️ user5: get back with y/n!
↪️ user6: get back with y/n!
↪️ user7: get back with y/n!
-
JustAnormalStyler has shared a new post
No way what I just found! A leaked picture of Harry and y/n’s WhatsApp chat about missing each other! What are the odds!
liked by watermelonSugerr_23, QemmaStyles_03, Styler23 and 678 more
JustAnormalStyler: Don’t ask me where i got it… I found it in the dark web…
user1: I am in disbelief! Is this actually real?!? It better be! We need the address!
↪️ user2: Yes! I wanna meet Harry!
↪️ user3: paparazzi will take over! I WILL NEED PHOTOS
user4: No freaking way! Harry and y/n?! back together? I’ve been waiting for this moment
user5: Harry needs to explain soon.
-
HarryPhotos_explaineee has shared a new post
liked by HarryFan, 1DirectionForever_45, Styler_5678, and 3577 more
HarryPhotos_explaineee: Ok so It’s Monday, and look what i found! Harry and y/n in Pantreygormet! They were seen kissing right after! No freaking way! Breakfast or dessert 😏…
user1: Oh this is getting realll!
user2: y/n is back! Bring it on.
user3: We love you y/n!
user4: When will they open about this! MAKE IT QUICK!
↪️ user5: they will i bet! I heard they might be doing an interview soon! Says InterviewerJones_official.
↪️ user6: OMG yess! i just heard! I’ll be waiting for the livestream even if i have to stay up after 1200.
↪️ user7: I’ll stay tuned!
user8: I’m crying! 😭 this is unreal.
-
yourusername has shared a new post
liked by HarryStyles, GemmaStone, JamesCorden, and 6788 more
yourusername: Summer has been great! Glad to be spending time with people. Makes life 10 times more fun :)
user1: That’s freaking Harry! I KNEW IT!
User2: Omg! the rumors were true! Harry and y/n is definitely a match!
↪️ user3: i love them sm!
↪️ user4: we need Harry to open up now!!
user5: Harry’s turn!
user6: Finally after all these years, my heart is fixed. I LOVE YOU y/n!
user7: Don’t let this end again!
↪️ user8: YES PLEASE!
-
HarryStyles has shared a new post
Hi everyone! So everyone has been asking me about the recent breakup with kendall. And yes it’s unfortunately true. We found that things was not working for us and had decided to put it to an end. And since all of you guys if me and y/n are starting to date again, i have decided to open up. Yes, me and y/n have decided to try it out again and hopefully it works out! Thanks for all the support ♥️
liked by yourusername, Simoncowell, Louis Tomlinson, Liam pyane and 17809 more.
HarryStyles: Thanks Everyone! We will be more open about our relationship! Stay tuned!
user1: YES! FINALLY! he opened up!
user2: We love you harry!
user3: FINALLY! i love y/n.
↪️ user4: right! She’s finally back. For sure we know it’s real now.
↪️ user5: Y/n ♥️
user6: We support you Harry!
-
This transcripts a recent interview with Harry Styles and interviewer Jones.
Interviewer: Harry! Back here after 7 years! how does it feel?
Harry: Great honestly, Makes me realize how fast time goes.
Interviewer: I see you had opened up about you and y/n’s relationship recently! I can’t believe you got back together! 7 years ago. You had just broken up, and now you guys are the happiest couple alive. Mus5 be happy right?
Harry: Very! I’ve always thought about y/n over the years, but have never gotten the courage to text her, until recently. She still is the same lovable person she was.
Interviewer: That’s fantastic. I can’t believe you see both your futures will be very bright.
Harry: Thank you! And i believe so too! And i’m glad all my fans are supportive!
Interviewer: Thank you for your time Harry!
-
A/N:
Thanks for reading! Also If people start liking i might make a part 2 about y/n and Harry’s relationship! Stay tuned! Also comment any thoughts you would want me to add in the future fanfic! THANKS ♥️
Summary: It was supposed to be just another tutoring session, but when Harry walked into your bedroom, things got a lot more exciting. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, making this a lesson you'd both remember.
Warning: Ok read if you're 13 or older also please enjoy XD LEAVE A LIKE PLEASEEE! it’ll brighten up my day :(…
Harry gripped me by my shirt and stepped into my bedroom, the familiar smell of vanilla candles filling the air. Then He pinned me onto the bed and start grinning on me. A math tutor session turns to this.
"Okay, so where do we start?" | asked, glancing at him as he leaned closer to me, looking way too good in his casual outfit. He flashed a charming smile that made my heart skip a beat.
"Let's see how much you could handle," he said, putting his face closer to mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and I suddenly felt shy. My heart raced as I watched him stand up and pulled out a chair. "Didn't do your homework? Being extra naughty
tonight"
I couldn't help but steal glances at him, biting my lip. He looked at me with that playful glint in his eyes, and I felt a rush of courage. "so, you good with math right. How so?"
"'l’ll show you my secret study techniques," he joked, leaning in closer. His shoulder brushed against mine, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
Suddenly, he moved even closer. "I bet you're way better at this than you let on," he said softly. Before I knew it, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.
The kiss took me by surprise. It was soft at first, like he was testing the waters. But then, it became deeper, sending sparks all over my body. I hesitated for a moment, but then I kissed him back, feeling the thrill of the moment.
When we pulled away, I looked into his eyes, both of us breathless.
"Wow, that definitely wasn't part of the plan," he said, grinning on me.
"Maybe it should be," | replied, my heart racing even faster now.
Harry chuckled, the mischief shining in his eyes. "I could get used to lessons like this," he said, making me laugh again.
"Well where do we start." i asked. He then stripped my pants down and started playing with my clit. He got off and kneeled down and licked it fast. I let out a few soft moans.
"Not bad y/n. you better not cum without my permission." He smirked them continued. My moans were louder and harry groaned.
"I want to cum!" | screamed. "can I come harry?.. H-harry!" I said
while my legs started shaking. Harry stopped licking and got up to the bed. He sat on one of my thighs and pressed his hand onto my other thigh. Then using his other hand and starting moving circles around my sensitive area.
"What's the magic word?" He looked at me and smiled.
"P-please" I said while my voice starts shaking. Harry continued working his magical fingers and started rotating faster than ever.
That's when i reacher my first orgasm. "H-h-harryYYYY." | moaned.
I started cumming and harry looked pleased. "Now there, did i tell you you could cum?"
"n-no!" I answered still shaking. Harry stopped and shifted his position. "Fell good?" He asked giving e a big smirk. I didn't answer just kept moaning.
The. he walked over to his bag and trapped some pills. "Eat." So i wait up and took them fork his hands. I swollen the pill.
"What is that?" | questioned Harry. "birth control." And before i could say anything, Harry pinned me onto the bed and used his leg to keep me from moving. Then he unlooses his belt and stripes his pants off, leaving his underwear.
He numbed me a few times to warm up. "care helping me strip?" | did and took his underpants off. revealing his cock, and it was enormous.
"like?" He asked while using it to touch my pussy multiple times. I started moaning.
Then Harry shifted me into position "Up" he instructed and i complied. "turn around." and i did. He started inserting his dick into me and moved it deeper and deeper.
"Harry..'"
"shh," He started moving deeper and thrusting slowly. I moaned louder and louder. as his thrusts were harder and faster.
I moaned while he groaned, I could feel something inject into me.
Harry started groaning louder.
"y/n I feel it." Harry said, "just a few more..." Then, harry moved harder and faster.l had another orgasm.
"Harry! S-stop-p" of course he didn't. "hang on, I'm almost there. He grabbed onto my waist and stating pulling back and forth. I was overstimulating. After a few more quick thrusts, Harry groaned and pulled his cock out. I layed on the bed and Harry too beside me.
"You're so wet." He looked at me and grinned. "You're so harsh" | told harry. he chuckled.
A/N
DID YOU LIKE IT? PLEASE DO! also please like my post or comment some new ideas of what i should post next! It took me a long time to write this fanfic! I'd write anything about Harry or 1d! FOLLOW FOR MORE!
