Mar 6
pov: your husband is a mega pop star and you capture him in the studio.
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
pov: your husband is a mega pop star and you capture him in the studio.
Be a Good Girl: A Harry Styles Blurb
CW: Smut (use of a sex toy), minor language, dirty talk, light banter and Harry is a menace
Word Count: 5.7K
A/N: I feel rusty when it comes to smut so this was a good opportunity to get back into the swing of things so if you wanted plot I’m sorry there really isn’t a lot 😂 but enjoy this little thing and feel free to let me know your thoughts!!✨
Summary: Harry misses you and uses making a video to your favorite song as a way to get you to visit him✨
You watch Harry’s eyes darken as they stare down at the open suitcase that’s situated on the edge of the bed in the hotel you’ll be staying in with him for a few nights, his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he reaches down and grabs an item he didn’t expect to see right when he unzipped your bag so he could help you unpack seeing as he’s already been in Amsterdam for a little over a week so he’s made himself at home in the sprawling suit that’s on the top floor of a luxury hotel in town. He had begged you to come visit him for a few days, sending you long over dramatic voice notes about how he can’t focus without you and needs his creative muse around, and while that was lovely and fed into the twisted part of yourself that craves hearing how miserable he is without you it wasn’t until he mentioned filming a music video for one of your favorite songs off his new album that you really started to take his requests for you to come see him more seriously.
It’s not as if you didn’t miss him as well, of course you did but you just know Harry and know he gets lonely very easily and it didn’t help that you had already planned on being with him at the start of his tour that kicks off in just two weeks so you didn’t see the need to come earlier until he tossed the dance no more video out like a shiny lure on the end of a fishing hook. Needless to say you were on a train to see him the very next day, he could barely contain his excitement when you told him to book you a ticket because he really felt a little off without having you just an arms length away. The two of you have been nearly inseparable during his break from music and to say Harry’s been struggling with the distance sometimes forced between the two of you due to his now hectic schedule is a massive understatement. So he plans on making the most out of your trip to see him and has already warned you that you’ll be lucky if he lets you out of his sight during the next few days, not that you’d ever care if he follows you around and is extra handsy because you’re well past getting used to his clingy behavior and now it’s something you encourage, loving the feeling of his sloppy kisses and grabby hands.
As Harry raises the object up and his eyes flicker over to where you’re sitting with your back resting against the headboard of the bed and your legs stretched out with your hands in your lap fiddling with the hem of your t shirt not feeling an ounce of embarrassment, you just give him a smile because you’ve never been one to shy away from telling him what you want or what you like, especially when it comes to the bedroom. He tears his eyes away from you and looks back over to the bright pink silicone dildo his long fingers are securely wrapped around and he can’t help but let out a laugh as he lightly shakes his head because while he might not have been expecting to find it resting so casually on top of your fancy black dress you brought for a night out, he can’t say he’s all that shocked you decided to bring it with you. The sound of his laughter sends a welcomed warm tingle down your spine, having missed being able to witness how his face manages to light up as the sound bubbles up from deep in his chest.
“You couldn’t have packed this in your toiletry bag or something?” He asks teasingly as he places it down on the bed beside your suitcase so he can move on to unpacking your clothes, not really caring in the slightest that you didn’t try to hide it by shoving it into a bag or cramming it into the bottom of your suitcase.
“No because then it would’ve taken you longer to find it.” Your answer has him looking at you with a raised brow as he pauses his movements, his hands let the silky material of your black dress slip through his fingers and land back into your suitcase when your lips curve upward into a smile that Harry knows means you’re up to something. “You always unpack my toiletries last.” You watch the wheels start to turn in his mind as you tell him a simple fact about the way he always goes about unpacking your bags, something he’s been doing for you ever since you went on your first trip together years ago because making sure you don’t have to lift a finger while he’s around is just one of the ways Harry likes to show you he cares about you.
“Oh I see.” He says with the beginnings of a smirk on his face as his eyes roam over your features, he lets them linger on your lips for a beat longer than he should before he brings them back up to meet your eyes. “And that would’ve been a problem? Not finding your pink—friend until later?” He asks making you give him a nod as you move so you can crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed until your suitcase is the only thing separating the two of you.
“It would’ve been tragic.” Harry holds back a chuckle as you poke out your bottom lip in a pout as you rise to your knees only an arms length away from him, the softness of the comforter feels nice on your skin and Harry can’t help himself from letting his eyes get their full of your plush thighs that your sad excuse for shorts leave exposed to him since they really only keep a small portion of your backside and your most intimate bits from being on display. “I would’ve had to sit and wait and-”
“You’ve never been good at waiting have you baby?” You roll your eyes at his question while he gives you a playful wink that you know is all an act because you’ve always been able to read Harry like one of your favorite books, easily seeing through the cocky and smug facade he tries to build up in moments like this and seeing the needy and sometimes desperate man hidden underneath.
“You’re not so good at it yourself.” You remind him to which he just gives you his sad attempt at a casual shrug as he looks down at your suitcase trying his hardest to act as if he doesn’t want to reach out and grab you so he can get the comforting feeling of your skin under his palms. “Besides it’s been-”
“Nine days.” He says finishing your sentence for you as his hands clench into fists at his sides. “It’s been nine days.” He repeats but this time with an added sigh, and when you watch him close his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose you know he’s on the verge of coming undone because nine days apart is a record for the two of you and you’re honestly not sure how he’s managed to keep it so together for the past hour and a half you’ve been in the same room.
“Exactly—don’t you think we’ve waited long enough? I know you missed me and it’s been so hard for you but I’m here now.” Your voice doesn’t have even the smallest trace of playfulness to it, instead it’s soft and each word that rolls off your tongue has a sticky type of sweetness wrapped around it that seeps into the small cracks that have formed in Harry’s heart with every passing day he had to spend alone, mending it back together in a way that only you know how.
Before your brain can process what’s happening Harry has a hand on the side of your face only giving you time to blink before his lips are crashing into yours in a hungry and desperate kiss. You hear the sound of your suitcase crashing to the floor as Harry uses his free hand to slide it out of the way letting him have all the room he needs to pull you closer to him, your hands grab onto his face as his tongue slips into your mouth making him let out a small moan when he gets a taste of the mint gum you were chewing on earlier. Your eyes fall closed as you let yourself melt into Harry’s touch, having missed the feeling of being able to let him guide and move your body however he pleases because you know his pleasure is derived from your own so you enjoy the moments where you can turn your mind off and let him take control.
Harry can sense the subtle shift in you as your cheek presses into his palm that’s keeping you from getting too far away from him, he smiles against your lips when yours hands slide down the front of his t shirt until they end up back down at your sides. He uses his hold on you to gently urge you down onto your back, moving so he’s standing between your legs that are halfway hanging off the edge of the bed and he tries his hardest not to laugh at the frown that takes over your face as he pulls away from you so he can stand up. When you open your eyes you find Harry just staring at you, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth as he lets his eyes freely roam over your body only pausing when they land on the waistband of your shorts.
“Need these off.” He says as he reaches his hands out, you automatically lift your hips so he can easily tug your shorts down your legs until they fall to the floor near his feet. “I’m gonna tell you what’s about to happen okay baby?” His voice is more relaxed now that he has his hands running up and down the tops of your thighs, when you reach your hands out for him Harry already knows what you want so he smiles as he moves a hand so it’s resting next to you letting him lean over and place a quick kiss to your lips.
“Okay I’m ready now.” Harry lets out a chuckle as he pulls away and you give him a grin. “What’s about to happen?” There’s an unmistakable giddiness to your voice as you stare up at Harry and it’s a reminder of how much trust you have in him, that the idea of him taking control not only relaxes you but brings you a sense of excitement because you know you don’t have to worry about anything when it comes to him.
“First I’m gonna take this off,” his hand softly pulls at the fabric of your t shirt making you nod as his eyes move down to your pink and yellow polkadot panties. “Then I’ll do my best to not rip these but-”
“Wait a minute-” Harry’s eyes instantly bounce up to lock with yours as you sit up onto your elbows with your brows scrunching together and a tiny hint of concern hiding behind the color of your eyes. “These are too cute to end up in shreds Harry just take them off now if you need to because I am not leaving here with less clothes than I came with okay?—I actually want to have the opposite problem.”
“The opposite problem?” He asks with a raised brow, you just give him a nod before you sit up just enough so you can pull your t shirt up over your head so you can toss it to the side along with your bra making Harry bite back a smile at how eager you are.
“Yes I want to leave with more clothes and things than I came with.” You answer with a smile as one of Harry’s hands slides up from the side of your thigh to your hip. “I know you like spending money on me—you like the looks people make when you hand me your shiny black credit card and tell me to have fun.”
It’s no secret that one of the many things Harry likes about his relationship with you is knowing he can offer you a lifestyle none of your previous boyfriends could, it makes it a bit more exciting for him when he does something for you that you didn’t expect simply because you’re not used to being taken care of the way Harry takes care of you. He knows you’d still be with him if he was broke or worked a normal job because none of the extra stuff really means anything to you but still, he likes to spoil you in any kind of way you’ll let him.
And it’s true, he enjoys the sideways glances and small gasps of shock whenever he just appears in a store you’ve been shopping around in just to pay the bill before giving you a kiss and rushing off to his next meeting or studio session before anyone can really put together who it was that just swiped their card and left. He gets a bit of a rush of satisfaction anytime he gets to flaunt his wealth, not getting the opportunity very often since he runs in a very small circle of people who don’t discuss things like money so he feels a small twinge of pride in his chest when he gets to simply show up, hand you his card without even bothering to look or ask you what the total is all while you smother his face in kisses and mumble a few thank yous against his neck.
“Well if you already planned on doing some shopping-” your eyes narrow into a glare as you watch Harry stand up so he can slide his thumbs under the waistband of your panties. “Add another pair of these to the list.” You let out a huff that he knows is all for show as you let yourself fall back onto the bed making Harry laugh as he does exactly what you knew he would, rips the thin fabric with a simple tug that subtly shows off how little effort it takes him to turn the pretty pair of panties into a useless pile of fabric.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see that coming—should’ve known you’d say something annoying like that.”
“You really should’ve.” Harry teases as he leans over you, a hand on either side of your head with a look that’s a mixture of love and something hungrier on his face that has your heart doing flips in your chest. “Now can we get back to what I was saying or do you have anymore silly requests like don’t pull your hair or keep the lights on while-”
“I asked you to keep the lights on one time because we had just watched that scary movie about the thing that lives in the shadows and-”
“And what? You thought I’d let some creepy creature get you while I had you bent over the bathtub?”
“Well I mean you were a little preoccupied so how would you even have noticed if there was a creepy thing in there with us? Especially since you only had on the vanity lights.” It’s moments like this, when the two of you are in such intimate positions but having extremely normal conversations that get to Harry the most because it’s just another thing that solidifies the fact he’s finally found his person and it’s you. “But I guess you would’ve gotten eaten first so I would’ve had a decent chance at getting away.” You add with a smile as you reach up and run a hand through Harry’s hair, as you stare up at him you can’t help but feel a strong sense of desire for the man hovering over you because in this moment the comfort level the two of you have with each other serves as a different type of turn on, knowing he isn’t in a any sort of rush so he can take the time to indulge in silly conversations with you just makes you want him that much more.
“Exactly you would’ve been fine.” He tells you softly as he leans down and presses his lips against yours for a quick little kiss. “Now are you ready to listen?” He asks between kisses down your jaw, your hands grab onto his shoulders as you give him a nod.
“Yes I’m ready to listen.” You tell him already knowing he needs more from you than a simple nod, you feel him smile against the skin of you neck making a shiver run down your spine from his stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin.
“Yeah? You’re ready to be a good girl now?” You swallow thickly as he lifts his head just enough so his eyes can find yours, the anticipation of what he has in store for you has your mind racing and your insides buzzing.
“Yes.” A grin spreads across Harry’s face as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before he slowly starts to kiss and lick his way down the length of your body, only stopping just an inch or two past your belly button.
“I know you brought this for a reason.” You look down at him as he reaches a hand out so he can grab the pink toy resting on the end of the bed. “You want to tell me why or should I just take a guess?” He asks as he keeps one hand on your hip so you don’t get the familiar pout on your face at the complete lack of contact when he stands up making your arms fall off his shoulders and down to your sides landing on the soft comforter of the bed.
“I want you to use it on me—please.” Harry nods as he soothingly runs the pad of his thumb up and down the soft skin of your hip helping your body relax just a bit.
“Okay—since you asked so nicely.” You can’t help the giggle that falls out of your mouth at the little wink he shoots you before he looks away from your face and down to the glistening mess between your legs. “Can’t even use your own toy properly can you baby? It’s like you need me to do everything for you.” Your eyes snap closed when you feel Harry teasingly drag the tip of your dildo up and down your slick folds making you clench around nothing. “After I get you off with this I’m going to make you come on my cock over and over until all that pretty little mind of yours can think about is me—how’s that sound baby? Does that sound good?” His eyes flicker up to your face as you bite down on your bottom lip when he slowly pushes the tip of your pink silicone toy into you, he smiles when your hands grip the sheets at your sides when he pushes it in just a bit more.
“Y—yes.” Is all you’re able to say before a soft moan slips past your lips and it has Harry quirking a brow as he moves his hand down from your hip to the outside of your knee.
“Yes what?” He asks as he gently grabs at your leg so he can place it over his shoulder letting him inch the pink toy deeper into you, allowing you to feel it’s soft ridges press against your warm wet walls. “Answer me sweetheart—yes what?”
“Yes that—that sounds good.” You say with a loud moan as Harry uses his grip on the base of the toy to push it all the way in until you feel the side of his hand pressing against you. “Sounds so—so good.” You mumble as Harry looks down and lets out a rough sounding groan at the sight before him.
“I think pink is your color baby.” His voice is deep as he starts to pull the toy out, licking his lips as he sees the familiar sheen of your arousal clinging to the pink silicone, he only lets it get half way before pushing it back in making you moan his name as he repeats the same motion a few more times. “I mean it—your needy little cunt looks so good getting fucked with this pretty pink toy of yours.” You feel your hips try and match the steady pace Harry has set as his free hand keeps a firm grip on the side of your leg that’s over his shoulder, the gentle pull and push of the toy as it slides in and out of your center has your body craving more.
“Harry I-” your words get cut off by a loud moan when you open your eyes and find Harry staring at you as he turns his head and starts kissing down the inside of your leg, leaning down just enough so he can lightly nibble on the soft flesh of the inside of your thigh while he quickens the pace of his hand that’s wrapped around the base of your toy, the new angle letting him get it a bit deeper than before. “Oh god.” You moan as you feel his hand slide down your thigh and up over your hip until the pad of his thumb is rubbing tight circles over your clit.
“Come on baby—be a good girl and make a mess all over your pretty little toy.” He coos sweetly as his eyes lock with yours, you watch a smug looking smirk work its way onto his face as he adds more pressure to your bundle of nerves earning him a loud cry of his name, your back arches and your grip on the sheets tightens and you swear there’s some sort of glittery haze surrounding Harry as you feel the pressure in your lower belly finally snap.
“Hear that baby?” Harry asks as he continues his quick pace, plunging the silicone toy in and out of your soaked hole making a squelching sound fill the room as he helps you ride out your climax. “That’s the sound of you doing what you’re told—being a good girl and making a pretty mess everywhere.” You smile at his words of praise, feeling your arousal starting to drip down onto the bed but you know by the pleased grin on Harry’s face it’s exactly what he wanted.
You try to catch your breath as Harry gently moves your leg off his shoulder after giving the inside of your knee a quick kiss that you know is just to distract you from the feeling of him slowly sliding your pink toy out of your soaked center. There’s a flash of something in Harry’s eyes as he looks over at you and before you can open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong he’s bringing your arousal covered toy up to his mouth and licking it from where he hand is gripping the base all the way to the tip. The sight of him licking your toy clean of your juices has your thighs trying to squeeze together but Harry keeps them spread open with his body nestled between them.
“Couldn’t just let that go to waste.” He explains as he places the toy down on the bed. “You okay? Need anything?” He asks as he starts to pull his shirt up over his head letting you get a good view of his well defined chest and stomach that has you practically drooling.
“Just you.” Harry smiles at your answer as you watch him unbutton his pants and shimmy them down his legs along with his boxers, not bothering to make a show out of getting undressed because he thinks the two of you have waited long enough so no need to prolong it with a striptease that would more than likely end up with him getting a foot stuck in his pants and falling over.
“I’m all yours baby just gotta tell me how you want me.” His voice is strained as he wraps a hand around his painfully hard cock, you sit up and scoot down to the edge of the bed and pat the spot next to you.
“Want to ride you.” You tell him excitedly making him let out a small chuckle as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands grab onto your hips as you move to straddle his lap placing one knee on either side of his thighs. When you feel the tip of his cock at your entrance you take in a deep breath and grab onto his shoulders, Harry’s hands give your hips a loving squeeze as your eyes lock with his green ones.
“Take your time love—there’s no rush.” He reminds you as you slowly start exhale through your nose as you begin to lower yourself down onto him, his lips places kisses to the tops of your shoulders as the all too familiar sting that comes with your body trying to adjust to the size of Harry’s thick shaft pulses through you. “Missed you so much baby.” He mumbles against your neck as you pause only lowered halfway down his cock, needing to allow yourself a moment to breathe before taking the rest of him into your tight cunt since it’s been nine whole days since you’ve gotten to be in a position like this so you want to savor it just a bit.
“Don’t wanna do that again—nine days is too long to be without you.” His voice is low and you feel his hold on your hips tighten as you continue to lower yourself down until you’re taking in the last inches of him making a muffled groan escape him as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.
“I missed you too.” You say with a sigh as he lifts his head up so he can look you in the eyes. “I love you.” You tell him as his hands come up and cup the sides of your face.
“I love you too.” His lips are on yours before you can even smile at how quickly he responds, you swallow down Harry’s moan as you lift yourself up so just the tip of Harry’s cock is snug inside your went center and then lower yourself back down with a quick drop. Your hands tangle into his hair as your tongue licks into his mouth, one of his hands slides down to the side of your neck as your hips start to find a rhythm, it’s as if a flip has been switched inside your body and muscle memory takes over as you bounce on Harry lap. Your knees dig into the plush mattress and your head tilts back as your swollen clit rubs against the patch of hair at the base of Harry’s cock creating a delicious friction, Harry wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your exposed neck, licking and sucking at the skin until he’s satisfied with the blotchy red marks that he knows will be a dark purple color by the end of the day.
“My cock is better than your little toy isn’t it love?” He asks as he gives the side of your neck a squeeze, you let out a loud cry of his name as he bucks his hips letting the tip of his cock nudge the spot deep inside you that makes your toes curl.
“Yes your—your cock is so much better.” You pant as Harry gives you a few harsh thrusts of his hips. “I missed it so fucking much—oh god.” Harry looks down as you start to squeeze and pulse around him, he lets out a groan as he watches his thick shaft disappear into your needy hole as you expertly bounce on him. “Harry I’m—oh fu-Harry.” Your vision goes blurry as Harry’s arms wrap around you and in a quick movement you’re being lifted up and then your back is being pressed into the mattress, you let Harry’s strong hands move you around until your legs are wrapped around his middle and you can barely catch your breath before he starts thrusting his cock in and out of you at a brutal pace.
“Fuck baby you feel so good.” Harry groans as your walls start to clench around him, your heels dig into his lower back as his name falls out of your mouth. “Needed this so bad—you have no idea how much I’ve missed your pussy baby you always feel so perfect when you’re wrapped around me like this.” He tells you as he keeps up the quick pace of his thrust, he watches your eyes fall closed as you start to come undone around him. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as Harry continues to work you through your orgasm, your hands white knuckle the sheets as your back arches making Harry lean down and place a hand next to your head while his other one grips the outside of your leg chasing his own release.
“Look at me baby—wanna see your eyes please need those pretty eyes.” Harry says between kisses all over your face, he feels your body relax as he pulls away just in time to see your eyes slowly peel themselves open and the smile that you give him has his heart pounding in his chest as you reach out and cup his face in your hands.
“Your eyes are pretty too.” All Harry can do is smile at your half mumbled words, he feels his stomach tighten and when you use your legs and pull him closer to you while your hands bring him down for a kiss he can’t hold himself back any longer and with a few quick thrusts he’s spilling his warm load deep inside you making you smile as your name tumbles out of his mouth when he pulls away.
“Holy fuck—you’re so perfect baby I love you so much.” You giggle as Harry nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble tickles your skin as he tries to catch his breath.
“I love you too.” You whisper into his ear as your hands run up and down his back, neither of you ready to move just yet because you’ve spent nine days apart so you want to let the moment last as long as you can before separating.
“I think I broke your suitcase.” You let out a laugh as Harry lifts his head up and looks down at the floor and sure enough your suitcase is sprawled out on the ground with a wheel missing having rolled under the bed after Harry shoved it to the floor to get it out of the way.
“That’s okay—it was yours anyway.”
“Okay so just have fun and get comfortable with the microphone—twirl it around or do whatever feels good to you in the moment.” Harry nods as the director of the dance no more music video gives him a little bit of direction for what he’s meant to be doing for this part of the video, you have a grin on your face as you sit in one of the chairs near the back of the gymnasium with a few of the backup dancers who aren’t needed in this shot.
“Yeah okay—I can do that.” Harry says with a smile before walking back over to where he’s meant to be standing, he grabs the silver microphone and shakes his arms and jogs in place to loosen up his limbs while the director takes his spot behind the camera.
You watch in awe as Harry instantly turns into the charismatic man people have posters of taped on their walls and spend copious amounts of money to watch perform on stage every night the moment he hears the word action. You’re so entranced by the movement of his hips in his silky red shorts you almost miss the way his eyes find yours in the back of the room, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he grabs the base of the microphone with both hands and you feel your face get hot as he stares directly at you while he licks the microphone the same way you had watched him lick up the length of your pink sex toy the day before.
“Sorry H let’s go again in five—I really love that but this time let’s add some dancers.” Harry just nods and walks over to where you’re sitting with a playful grin on his face.
“That was for you.” He tells you with a wink that makes you just shake your head as he stands in front of you. “Knew you’d like that.” He teases as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your lips.
“You’re so annoying.” Harry just shrugs as you wipe off the remnants of your lipgloss off his bottom lip. “Thank you for letting me be here for this.” Your voice is soft and sweet and has Harry placing a hand on the side of your face.
“You’re always welcome to come to work with me baby you know that—I know how much you love this song.” You smile as you lean into his touch. “I perform better when you’re with me.”
“You’re just saying that so I’ll agree to going on tour with you.”
“Well yeah—that’s exactly why I’m saying it but it’s also just the truth.”
Tag List: @silastylesswift @umadirectioner @foreverforeverhs @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @blckburd @triski73 @withoutluv @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan @mads3502 @everyhug @namoreno @maladaptivescorpio @bethiegurl19 @aileen1237 @harryspirate @dxnycast @discohoee @irishone11 @likea-silhouette @carina-tia @cryinonfilm @aviisreal @daphnesutton @vikiii07 @sstylezzz @osorto @sparklejumpropequeen1113 @fbhhstyles @amc430 @deliriumwriting @kiwitsayedsugar @latedirectionerera @fkingstyles @makytka @swag313gurl @cevans-winchester
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
Word count: ~ 3.5k
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
POV: Harry, third person / Reader, second person
Setting: 2026, Together, Together Tour
Warnings: none
Summary: At soundcheck, you decide to surprise Harry’s fans by going live from his Instagram and the internet immediately loses its mind.
Amsterdam, N2 — 17 May 2026
At exactly twelve minutes past noon, Harry’s Instagram account goes live. It happens quietly from your side of things. No announcement, no teaser, and no carefully edited caption approved by three different people and saved into drafts. Just your thumb hovering over the button for half a second before you press it, standing in the empty pit of the arena with a lanyard around your neck, your phone in your hand, and Harry’s voice already echoing from the stage. For the rest of the internet, however, it is anything but quiet as the little notification goes out:
harrystyles ✔︎ started a live video. Watch it before it ends!
And within seconds, the numbers begin climbing so quickly that you almost laugh.
3,000.
18,000.
74,000.
122,000.
The comments appear in a waterfall of disbelief.
IS THIS REAL????
HARRY?????
NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY OMG
I WAS IN A MEETING I JUST LEFT
WHO IS HOLDING THE PHONE??
OH MY GOD HE’S LIVE
Y/N IS THIS YOU????
WE MISSED HIM SO MUCH
Hearts rise up the right side of the screen in a constant stream, red and frantic, floating over the image of the empty arena. Seats stretch upwards in silent rows, the stage lit in soft working light instead of show colours. The place looks entirely different at noon, stripped of last night’s madness. No screaming crowd and no glittering sea of phones, just crew members moving in the distance, cases on wheels, cables taped down, a few people in headsets talking into radios. And Harry.
Harry himself is on the main stage, singing into a handheld mic as if the arena is full anyway. He wears black sports shorts, trainers, a cosy Pleasing jumper, and a black beanie pulled low over his hair. There is something very endearing about it, the contrast between the man who owned the stage last night and the one currently standing there in a jumper from his own brand, doing vocal runs with the focus of someone who absolutely doesn’t know that two hundred thousand people are now watching him warm up. You angle the phone towards him and begin walking through the pit. “Good afternoon,” you say, voice warm but amused, because the comments have already become unreadable. “Since a few of you seem to be awake, I thought we’d check what he’s up to.”
The comments explode again.
A FEW OF US???? THERE ARE 300K PEOPLE HERE
Y/N YOU QUEEN
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU
HE LOOKS SO CUTE
THE BEANIE I’M GONE
PLEASING JUMPER PROMO KING
PLEASE TELL HIM WE LOVE HIM
I CANNOT BREATHE
You laugh under your breath. “Well, he’s busy right now, but I’ll pass it on.”
Harry doesn't look over at first. He is halfway through a line from American Girls, one hand holding the mic, the other gesturing faintly as he listens to whatever adjustment the sound engineer has made in his in-ears. The band is scattered behind him, not fully in show formation. Sarah is at her kit, tapping lightly between cues. Mitch is sitting on a riser with his guitar, looking half asleep in the way he often does when he is, in fact, perfectly aware of everything happening around him.
You keep walking. The pit feels enormous without fans pressed against the barricade. Your footsteps are small against the arena floor, swallowed by the clean sound of Harry’s voice coming through the speakers. It still amazes you sometimes, how familiar and strange this job can be at the same time. You have heard him sing in kitchens, hotel bathrooms, cars, backstage corridors, Rome balconies at ridiculous hours of the night. You know the casual hums, the silly improvised lyrics, the dramatic shower notes. But hearing him like this — alone in a huge room, voice filling every empty seat — still makes you stop for half a second longer than planned.
The live count passes 500,000. “Okay,” you say, mostly to the viewers, “you lot are fast.”
WE HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR CASUAL HARRY CONTENT
THIS IS HISTORY
Y/N RUN THE ACCOUNT FOREVER PLS
HE LOOKS SO HAPPY
THE WAY HE SMILES WHEN HE SINGS I’M UNWELL
You reach the side of the stage and climb up the short set of steps leading onto one of the side catwalks. A crew member glances at you, recognises the phone, then gives you a small grin and steps out of frame. You walk carefully along the catwalk, keeping the camera steady as Harry moves into another part of the song. He notices you when you are almost at the middle catwalk. His eyes flick towards you, then back, then towards you again. The moment he realises it's you, his face changes. It's immediate and ridiculous, really. One second he is professional, focused, listening to the monitors. The next, his mouth curves into that dimpled smile that has done unnecessary damage to millions of people and, unfortunately, still works on you even after two years of direct exposure. He sings the next line at you. Actually at you. The camera catches it all, and the comments become a disaster.
HE SAW HER
HE SMILED AT HER OH MY GOD
THAT SMILE WAS FOR Y/N I’M SOBBING
I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE
THE DIMPLESSSSSS
HE IS SO IN LOVE BYE
SHE MAKES HIM SO HAPPY LOOK AT HIM
You sit down on the middle catwalk about twenty metres in front of him, legs crossed, phone propped steadily in your hands. Harry is still on the main part of the stage, but he keeps glancing at you between lines, clearly under the impression that you are simply recording him for later. And because of this, he becomes unbearable. He gives you a tiny wink during a lyric and you actually have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing too loudly into the microphone. “Everyone saw that,” you tell the stream quietly, and the comments confirm that everyone did, in fact, see that.
WE SAW IT
WE ALL SAW IT
SIR??????
FLIRTING DURING SOUNDCHECK IS CRAZY
Y/N HOW DO YOU SURVIVE THIS DAILY?????
“I don’t,” you say. “I just pretend to be very professional.”
Harry shakes his head from the stage, still smiling as he sings, though he has no idea what you have just told nearly a million people. The number at the top keeps climbing. Your phone buzzes once with a text notification from Jeff.
Jeff: Did you just go live on his account?
You smile and keep filming. Another message appears.
Jeff: Never mind. Numbers are insane. Continue.
You tilt the phone slightly, zooming just enough to frame Harry and the band without making it feel invasive. It's a sweet kind of access, you think. Not polished, not a production, just him, in the middle of the day, warming up in a beanie and jumper, doing the job before the actual job. And the fans know it too.
THANK YOU FOR THIS
THIS FEELS SO SPECIAL
HE SEEMS SO RELAXED
Y/N YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE
CAN YOU TELL HIM OPENING NIGHT WAS PERFECT
I LOVE SEEING HIM HAPPY
Then, because the internet can never remain wholesome for more than eight consecutive seconds, the comments take a turn. You read one silently and immediately look away from the screen.
OH MY GOD HE COULD SPANK MY ASS SO HARD I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO WALK FOR A WEEK AND I'D STILL SAY THANK YOU DADDY
“Oh, absolutely not.” You whisper.
The comments notice immediately.
WHAT DID IT SAY?
READ IT OUT
DID ANYONE SEE???
Y/N WHAT DID YOU SEE?
TELL US TELL US
You shake your head, still filming Harry as he moves into another vocal run, completely unaware. “No, because some of you need supervision.” More comments fly by.
WE DO
YES WE DO
PLEASE SUPERVISE US
WAS IT A FREAKY COMMENT?
IT WAS DEFINITELY A FREAKY COMMENT
You laugh, helpless now. “Someone just called him daddy in a sentence I am not repeating on his official Instagram account at lunchtime.”
The stream loses its collective mind. Harry, still singing, notices your shoulders shaking with laughter and his brows lift from across the stage as if to ask what you are doing. You wave him off with one hand and keep the camera on him. “Also,” you add, unable to resist, “you’re all much braver than I am. I would never type that where anyone could screenshot it.”
Y/N PLEASE
SHE’S LAUGHING AT US
OFFICIAL INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT AT LUNCHTIME 😭
ASK HIM IF HE KNOWS HE’S DADDY
NO DON’T ASK HIM I’LL DIE
ASK HIM
You read the comments with growing amusement. “I’m not asking him that while he’s working.”
Harry finally stops singing. Not because of the question, obviously. He still hasn't heard it. He stops because he has now realised that you're no longer silently recording. You're talking to your phone, laughing, and occasionally looking far too entertained by whatever is on the screen. He lowers his voice. “What are you doing over there, love?”
His voice carries easily through the speakers, warm and suspicious. You turn the phone slightly so he is fully in frame. “Nothing.”
Harry tilts his head. “That’s your lying voice.”
The comments flood instantly.
HE KNOWS HER LYING VOICE
I’M ON THE FLOOR
THE DOMESTICITY
HARRY LOOK HERE
TELL HIM HE’S LIVE
You smile sweetly. “I’m giving your fans a little show.”
Harry pauses. His eyes move from your face to the phone, then back to your face. “Are you live?”
You nod.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“On my account?”
“Yes.”
His mouth opens slightly and for one beautiful second, he looks genuinely surprised. Then he laughs. Not a polite laugh, not a stage laugh, a real laugh, head tipping back a little, shoulders loosening, the sound echoing through the empty arena. “Oh, you’re trouble,” he says.
“You hired me.”
“I’m rethinking that right now.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” He steps closer to the edge of the main stage, grinning now. “How many people are watching?”
You glance at the number. “Just under 1.4 million.”
Harry’s eyebrows lift. “At once?”
“You’re very popular.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Modest.”
“Always.”
He gestures at the phone with the mic. “What are they saying?”
You look at the comments at exactly the wrong moment and immediately regret it. Of course Harry sees your face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“What are they saying?”
“They’re being very supportive.”
“That’s not the face for supportive.”
You sigh, because now the comments are moving so fast you can barely keep up. “They are calling you daddy.”
Harry’s laugh comes faster this time, bright and delighted. Sarah hits a cymbal once behind him as if punctuating the moment and looks up with the smug smile of someone who absolutely heard that. Harry looks at the camera with mock seriousness. “At this hour? Have some decency.”
The comments go feral at that again.
NO DECENCY
NEVER
HE KNOWS
I’M SCREAMING
DADDY SAID HAVE DECENCY
HARRY PLEASE
You lower your head, laughing. “You made it worse.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You looked into the camera and said decency.”
“Important word.”
“Not helpful.”
He grins. “What else are they asking?”
You scan the comments, grateful when a few actual questions appear between the chaos. “Okay, serious interview portion,” you announce. “Mr. Styles.”
Harry straightens dramatically. “Yes.”
“How are you feeling today, after opening night?”
He hums quietly, pretending to consider it like this is a formal press conference and not you sitting cross-legged on his stage during soundcheck. “I feel good,” he says. “A little tired. Very happy. Last night was…” He pauses, searching for the right word without over-polishing it. “It was beautiful. Really beautiful. I didn’t know how much I missed it until everyone started singing back.”
WE MISSED YOU TOO
THE CROWD LOVES YOU
LAST NIGHT WAS MAGIC
I CRIED THE WHOLE TIME
SO PROUD OF YOU
You read a few of them aloud, and Harry’s smile becomes quieter. “Thank you,” he says, looking towards the phone. “Really. Thank you for being so lovely last night. And loud. Very loud. Borderline dangerous.”
You ask, “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Very. Night two always has a different energy. Everyone’s a bit less terrified.”
“You mean you.”
“I mean everyone.”
“Sure.”
He points at you. “Biased interviewer.”
“Extremely.”
Another comment catches your eye. “Someone asks if you have a favourite moment from night one.”
Harry thinks. “The first chorus of Fine Line was special. Felt like everyone decided at the same time that we were going to be alright.”
Your smile softens behind the phone. He looks at you for half a beat longer than necessary, both of you remembering the green room the night before without saying so. Then you clear your throat lightly and read another question. “Favourite snack backstage?”
“Banana.”
You stare at him. “That’s your answer?”
“What’s wrong with banana?”
“It’s a bit boring.”
“It’s reliable.”
“People were hoping for insight.”
“That is insight. I’m a reliable man.”
"Okay." You shrug.
Then another question flies past. “Someone asks if you have any advice for people coming to tonight’s show.”
Harry looks back at the camera. “Wear comfortable shoes. Be nice to each other. Drink water. Don’t throw anything at my head.”
You nod. “Strong advice.”
“And sing,” he adds. “Even if you think you sound terrible. Especially then, actually. Makes me feel better.”
The comments fill with love again, fast and bright. You are still smiling at them when Harry suddenly steps off the main stage area and begins walking down the catwalk towards you. You look up. “What are you doing?”
He doesn't answer and that is your warning. “Harry.”
Still no answer. “Don’t.”
He reaches you with the most innocent expression he has ever worn, which means he is absolutely guilty of whatever he is about to do. Before you can pull the phone back, he bends, snatches it neatly from your hands, and drops down beside you on the catwalk.
“Oi!”
“My account,” he says.
“My livestream.”
“Our livestream now.”
The comments are too fast to read now. Hearts pour up the screen so quickly they cover half the image. Harry flips the camera to the front-facing view, and suddenly both of you are on screen. You immediately try to lean out of frame. Harry, delighted, loops an arm behind you and gently pulls you back. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not supposed to be on camera.”
“You started a livestream on my Instagram.”
“To show you.”
“And now we’re showing us.”
“That was not in the strategy deck.”
He looks into the camera. “Hear that? She made a strategy deck.”
“I did not make a strategy deck.”
“You absolutely did. It had tabs.”
“It was a planning document.”
“With tabs.”
“That’s how documents work.”
Harry grins at the comments, which are currently full of people typing both your names in capital letters.
HARRY AND Y/N TOGETHER STOP
THEY ARE SO CUTE
SHE’S SHY 😭
DON’T HIDE Y/N WE LOVE YOU
BEST SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER EVER
COUPLE CONTENT
You cover part of your face with one hand. “This is your fault.”
“You pressed the button.”
“You stole the phone.”
“Team effort.”
He shifts into interviewer mode with alarming speed, holding the phone out so both of you fit in the frame. “Welcome people on the internet,” he says solemnly. “We are here with the new head of my social media platforms. She’s very talented, very organised, and currently regretting every professional decision that brought her to this stage.”
You groan. “Harry.”
“First question,” he continues. “How does it feel to be on tour?”
You glance at him, then at the screen, trying not to look too awkward. “It’s been really lovely. Everyone’s been very kind. The crew are amazing, the band are amazing, and Amsterdam has been a beautiful first stop so far.”
Harry nods seriously. “Very media trained.”
“I studied.”
“Second question. Are you enjoying working for me?”
“You’re not my only boss.”
He looks offended. “I am the face of the operation.”
“You are the face making my job difficult by going inactive for years.”
The comments love that. Harry laughs. “That was a read.”
“It was a professional observation.”
“You’re doing very well.” He glances at the comments, then his grin turns wicked. “Final question.”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to ask.”
“I know your face.”
He turns back to the phone. “How does it feel to date daddy?”
You make a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a groan, immediately trying to move away while he laughs so hard the camera shakes.
“Harry Edward Styles.”
“Oooooh, full name.”
“This is still your official account.”
“Right. Sorry.” He looks into the camera, not sorry at all. “How does it feel to date a man who eats bananas backstage?”
You shake your head, laughing. “Exhausting.”
“Wow.”
“But rewarding.”
He brightens. “I’ll take that.”
The live continues like that for a while, messy, warm, completely unscripted. Harry reads comments with exaggerated seriousness, answers a question about his favourite city by refusing to choose because he “doesn’t want to start geopolitical drama,” and tells everyone Sarah is the coolest person on tour — she is. At some point, Jeff appears at the edge of the pit, watching the numbers with an expression of pure managerial conflict: horror at the lack of control, joy at the engagement.
You see him and laugh. “Jeff looks stressed.”
Harry turns the camera towards him. Jeff immediately points at both of you. “Do not put me on that.”
Harry turns it back. “Jeff says hello.”
“I did not,” Jeff calls.
By the time the stream reaches twenty minutes, the viewer count has peaked at 2.6 million. You stare at the number in sheer disbelief. “That’s absurd.”
Harry looks proud, but not in a smug way. More amused than anything. “You said it yoursef, I’m popular.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet.”
“And yet,” you agree softly.
He looks at the camera. “Alright, we’re going to go finish soundcheck before my manager starts ageing visibly. Thank you for spending your lunch break with us. Or breakfast. Or the middle of the night. Please sleep if it’s the middle of the night for you.”
You wave, still shy but smiling. “Thanks for joining. Be nice to each other tonight. Drink water.”
Harry adds, “And maintain decency.”
You snatch the phone back just long enough to end the live before the comments can explode again and the screen goes still.
For a second, neither of you moves. The arena feels enormous around you, quiet now except for the low murmur of crew conversations and someone testing a guitar tone in the distance. Without the comments and hearts, without the live number climbing, the middle catwalk becomes just a strip of stage suspended inside a giant empty room. Harry puts the phone down carefully beside you. Then he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him. You let yourself lean there, tucked into his side, the warmth of his jumper against your cheek as his beanie brushes your temple when he rests his head lightly against yours.
“That was good,” he says after a minute.
“You think?”
“Yeah.” His thumb moves once against your shoulder. “Felt nice. Not too polished.”
“That was the goal.”
“You’re good at this.”
“It’s literally my job.”
“No.” He turns his head slightly, voice gentler. “You’re good at knowing how to let people see me without making it feel like I’m being handed over.”
The words sit between you for a moment. You look out at the empty seats, rows and rows waiting to be filled again tonight. “I just want it to feel like you,” you say.
“It does.”
That means more than the 2.6 million views. More than Jeff’s relieved texts and more than the comments thanking you for the stream. Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
“For getting you called daddy in front of millions of people?”
“For that, obviously.” He smiles against your hair. “And for being here. On tour. With me. Working, and dealing with my nonsense, and making all of this feel…” He pauses. “Less strange.”
You turn slightly to look at him. “I couldn’t ask for a better job.”
He gives you a look.
“Alright,” you add. “Maybe slightly calmer working conditions.”
“There’ll be calmer days.”
“Will there?”
“No.”
You laugh, and his face does that soft thing again, the one you saw yesterday before he went on stage, the one that belongs only in quiet moments between you two. “I’m happy,” you tell him.
Harry looks at you for a long second, all playfulness fading into something warmer. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His arm tightens around your shoulders. “Me too,” he says.
The crew keeps working, the tour keeps moving, tonight, the arena will fill again, and Harry will walk out beneath the lights, and thousands of people will scream like they have been waiting their whole lives for it. But for now, it is just noon in Amsterdam. An empty arena, a phone facedown on the catwalk, Harry’s arm around you.
“I love you,” he says quietly.
You smile, leaning into him. “I love you too.”
Taglist: @lizsogolden @avensgreenvans @maudie-duan @chocostyles @sparklejumpropequeen1113 @pops234 @lomlcamy
@taraijbharper @dove702 @fallingwillow @eleanohoran @alex-voiddome @wtvrevie @angeldavis777 @daphnesutton @cherrycherry444 @mattiessunflower @indierockgirrl @gem1712 @triski73 @emmie2308 @liltpwk @stylesfantasy @fangirl509east @maddwoman @sunflowersndpeaches @moonstoneandmoonlight @prettiegirlavenue @lolacocacolaa @kateluvshaz @hontpwk @makytka @cloverpinkxo @tpwk-keepdriving @prettyboyrry @irishone11 @avaoccasionally @emmyrry @louisbelongstome28 @martha-rwng @isobellejade @rach2699 @fkingstyles @satellitestompers23 @midnightmemories-1-d @fortniiteking69 @trixilove257 @raajali3 @allmyinterestsworld @rideeonstyles @duplishitty
SECRET THAT WE KEEP | Harry x OC
words count: 847
summary: Harry’s secret wife and son are accidentally exposed, sending internet into a meltdown.
masterlist || part 1
Harry’s POV:
I notice the backpack before I notice the cameras.
It’s muscle memory—hand reaching back, checking the zipper, feeling the familiar weight settle between my shoulders. It’s light today. Too light. Dorian insisted on carrying it himself until he got tired halfway down the jet bridge and handed it to me with that solemn little nod like he was passing on responsibility, not a bag with snacks and a spare cardigan.
I don’t think about the name stitched into the fabric.
I never do.
The air in the airport is colder than it should be. Different country, different rules, same routine. We planned it like we always do: separate exits, different rows, a few minutes between us so nothing lines up too neatly. She goes first with Dorian, her head slightly bowed, one hand resting between his shoulder blades. I follow later, baseball cap low, passport already in my hand.
Normal. Careful. Practiced.
I’m almost through when I hear the sound.
The sharp, unmistakable beep of the metal detector.
I don’t even look up at first. I know that sound the way I know his cry in the middle of the night, the way I know the creak of the third stair at home. It’s never me. It’s always—
“His metal pin,” I say automatically.
The words are out of my mouth before I remember where we are.
Before I remember the glass walls, the phones, the way people watch without seeming to.
She doesn’t turn around.
She never does.
She crouches in front of Dorian, fingers already at the buttons of his cardigan, already reaching for the little silver star pinned to the inside seam. The one he insists on wearing because I told him once it was lucky. She slips it off, tucks it into a pocket of her bag, smooths the fabric back into place.
Dorian looks bored. Like this is the fifth time it’s happened this month.
The gate stays silent when they walk through again.
That’s when I feel it.
Not panic. Not yet.
Something colder. Heavier.
Because no one had to explain anything. Because nothing was discussed. Because it was a conversation we’ve had a hundred times without ever saying a word—and strangers don’t move like that. They don’t know. They don’t anticipate. They don’t finish each other’s thoughts mid-sentence.
They don’t raise a child together.
I keep my head down. I always do. I tell myself it’s fine, that it will blur into the usual noise, that by tomorrow the internet will be distracted by something louder, shinier, easier.
But when I step outside, I hear my name before I see the lenses.
And when I shift the backpack on my shoulder, I feel it, the slight tug as the fabric stretches, the embroidery catching the light.
Dorian.
It takes less than an hour.
The photos hit first. Grainy, zoomed, circled in red. A thousand opinions layered over a single moment frozen in time.
“Why does Harry Styles have a child’s backpack?”
“Who is Dorian?”
“Is this a charity thing? A gift? A nephew?”
By nightfall, the videos surface.
The metal detector.
My voice.
Her hands.
Slowed down. Paused. Analyzed like a crime scene.
People start noticing the things we never thought mattered.
Someone posts an old picture of me at an airport years ago, holding two passports. One of them blue. One of them with a barely visible letter on the corner.
D.
Another thread pulls up a photo Gemma posted ages back. There’s a baby bottle on the counter behind her. Someone points out her kid would’ve been too old then. Someone else remembers I was visiting that week.
Then comes the clip I hate the most.
Me outside a venue, laughing about something stupid, pulling an empty packet of baby wipes from my jacket pocket and tossing it into a bin. It was nothing. It was always nothing.
Until it wasn’t.
Until it was everything.
I sit on the edge of the hotel bed, phone face down, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside the window. In the other room, Dorian is asleep already. He went out the moment his head hit the pillow, clutching the cardigan like it’s armor. She’s lying beside him, one hand curled around his wrist, breathing slow and even.
She knew this day might come.
I did too.
We just hoped it wouldn’t come like this—piecemeal, scavenged from moments that were never meant to be evidence.
I don’t regret it.
That’s the strangest part.
I regret the fear. I regret the noise that’s about to reach our door. I regret that he’ll grow up in a world that thinks it owns parts of him just because it knows my name.
But the years we stole? The mornings, the bedtime stories, the tiny metal pin that sets off detectors?
I’d steal them again.
Tomorrow, the secret will be gone.
Tonight, I slip the backpack off my shoulders and set it gently by the door, the embroidered name facing the wall like it always has.
Not hidden.
Just private.
For as long as it was allowed to be.
Taglist: @lomlcamy @fernrry @packtuq @angeldavis777 @28tpwk1989 @raajali3 @pleasantearthquakecowboy @avensgreenvans @sassamanda77 @triski73 @bloom-b join my taglist
Harry Struggles with OCD (mild angst)
AN: please note ocd is very complex and everyone who has it could show different characteristics of the disorder. everyone's ocd can present differently. i don't have ocd, well i'm diagnosed with ocd as of yet, so i'm not an expert on the type of ocd i wrote harry having. so please keep that in mind when reading. i normally don't write things about medical disorders because i feel i'm not knowledgeable enough but i got inspired. hope you enjoy and please leave your feedback. xoxo
This story contains: mentions of mental health, struggling with mental health and ocd, panic attack, comfort, fluff, mild angst
{ boyfriend!harry - soft!harry - any harry era - AU!harry }
word count- 2,845
After his blind date with you goes so well, he continues seeing you while trying to hide his OCD, until he can't anymore.
Harry is about to have a women over to his house for the first time in over a year. Following the breakup with his last girlfriend, who left him because of his compulsive nature, he'd been wary of dating for a while. However, after being single for more than a year, he decided to confront his fears and dive back into the dating world. A close friend of his told him about a very nice girl he worked with who was also single. So, his friend set up a blind date for them.
The date was successful. Harry was quite nervous during most of it, but he hoped you didn't pick up on that. You enjoyed a meal at a small cafe and then made your way to a large pond in the center of London to watch the swans and ducks swim. It was a beautiful and simple setting for a first date.
In the week after your first date, you'd been texting each other on and off. The texts were casual, asking about each others days and including the occasional goodnight message. Since you got along so well, Harry was eager to set up a second date, and you immediately agreed. You found Harry to be quite charming and handsome. He was not only incredibly attractive, but also very kind and respectful. You could sense that he was nervous during your first date, but you were also feeling nervous, which helped to calm you, knowing that you were both in the same situation.
After thinking long and hard, Harry decided to invite you to his home for a second date. He was filled with various anxieties. One of his worries was whether the invitation to his house was too forward, possibly implying that he was looking for sex. In reality, it was more about wanting a laid-back second date where he could prepare a meal and enjoy your company. He hoped you'd view it as the latter, though he wouldn't be opposed to sex on the second date, especially considering how well you both connected during your first date and through your text conversations.
The main worry for Harry though was how he'd act. He's been diagnosed with OCD (obsessive convulsive disorder). This condition can manifest in various ways and may appear differently for each individual. In Harry's case, his OCD drives him to desire neatness and order. His home is exceptionally tidy, and he prefers to maintain control over the placement of all items.
For instance, his shoes must be perfectly aligned by the front entrance, as he never wears outdoor shoes inside his home. Or how he always keeps two decorative pillows on his couch. No more, no less. When he's out in public settings, he can hide his OCD pretty well, but at his home, its where his OCD is most present.
A lot of his compulsive ways are things even Harry himself can't explain. He genuinely does not understand why he feels compelled to arrange things in a specific manner, or do things a certain way. When he was younger, he was aware of these compulsions, but it was only after college that he received a formal diagnosis of OCD.
As a result of his OCD, the majority of his relationships have failed, because few were willing to tolerate his ways. Harry often tried to have a more relaxed attitude and not be concerned about the placement of the cups in the dishwasher, yet the anxiety he experienced when he didn't fix the cup placement his previous girlfriends did when washing up after dinner, would make him physically ill.
So Harry made a promise to himself; that if he brought a new girl over, he'd try his best to not let his OCD get in the way. He'd hate to scare you off on the second date.
-----------------------------
When you get to Harry's house, you can't help but notice how lovely the outside appears. It's a white townhouse with a black door and a small garden located beneath the front window. Very simple, yet endearing. You parallel park in front of his house and walk along the pathway that leads to his door. After taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you knock on the door three times. Just as your fist departs from the door after the third knock, the door swings open, and Harry greets you.
"Hi Y/n, so glad you could make it." he speaks carefully, trying not to show his nerves, just like on the first date. He steps right outside the doorstep to reach in for a hug, which you accept.
Once he pulls back, you reply, "Hi Harry, and thank you. I'm excited for tonight. I really enjoyed our first date."
When Harry notices that you're still positioned in his doorway, he shyly invites you in. Before you enter however, he shares his number one rule. This rule is quite standard in many people's homes, so he doesn't expect it to scare you off. "Come in, come in. Just, if you wouldn't mind, could you please leave your shoes by the wall at the entrance? I generally don't like outside shoes in my house."
You offer a polite smile and follow his directions without a second thought. Given the amount of filth you've probably encountered today in the city, you don't blame him for wanting to avoid having your shoes track that into his home. After removing your shoes and looking around, you notice that his home is exceptionally tidy and smells lovely.
"You can have a seat at the table over there. I've just finished the food. Hope you like pasta." Harry nods to his small dinning room table. As you walk over, you see two plates of what looks like spaghetti bolognese with two glasses of red wine.
"Oh it looks lovely, Harry. And yes, I do love pasta." you state as you approach the table to take a seat. Perhaps you should have asked which seat was yours, but since both plates looked the same, you didn't think it was necessary. Harry on the other hand wants to correct you. He wishes to tell you that you are in his seat—the one he always chooses.
He holds back the urge to correct you, remembering that this is a second date and he wants to make a good impression on you. He doesn't want to scare you off with his OCD. So, he takes a deep breath and sits across from you. His body feels slightly uneasy in the chair that's so unfamiliar to him, but a small part of his brain, which acts as his voice of reason, reassures him that this is such a non-issue.
You enjoy the delicious pasta and sip wine as you chat about random topics. By the middle of the dinner, Harry has entirely forgotten that he's not seated in his usual chair. Your conversations have calmed his mind. After finishing your meal, Harry collects your plates and places them in the dishwasher, while inviting you to sit on his sofa in the living room. You move to the living room while you wait for his return.
The rest of the evening was spent talking on his couch, drinking more wine, and having a short make-out session towards the end of the night. All in all, the second date was a success. Harry's OCD was triggered only once, and it wasn't really your fault. You weren't even aware that you had done anything wrong.
-----------------------------
After a month of seeing each other, you both made your relationship official. You were now officially girlfriend and boyfriend. While this scared Harry because of the trauma from his previous relationship, he senses that you're different. You're not even aware of his OCD, yet you treat him with kindness and understanding.
-----------------------------
You first realized something was up when Harry had a panic attack after you washed his bed sheets without his consent. The night before, you had some amazing sex and fell asleep before changing the bedding. When you woke up the next morning and Harry wasn't next to you, you decided to remove all the bedding and carry it to his laundry room, thinking it was the polite thing to do since you're the one who got the most bodily fluids on the sheets the night before.
Harry wrote you a note to let you know that he'd gone out to get some fresh croissants from a nearby bakery and would be back shortly. As he quietly unlocked the front door after arriving back home, thinking you were still asleep, he instantly heard it. Harry heard the sounds of his washing machine running. Panic filled him. He doesn't like anyone using his washing machine. Only he knows the right settings to select and the exact amount of soap to apply. He also knows which items can be washed together and which should be washed separately.
He places the croissants on the kitchen counter and rushes to the laundry room. As he steps in, he sees his comforter bunched up on the floor next to the washing machine, which is currently running, likely with his sheets inside. The idea of you taking care of his dirty bedding is sweet in retrospect, but his brain is not thinking clearly at this moment.
He quickly leaves the laundry room and rushes up the stairs to find you. When Harry opens his bedroom door, he sees you making his bed with a spare set of sheets he had in his hall closet. Little did you know, Harry doesn't often change his sheets. He just washes the same pair until they become holey. This was likely due to a comfort preference. The familiarity of settling into the same sheets each night provided him with a sense of peace.
"Oh my God Y/n, what've you done?" Harry says way too harshly, but his chest is getting tighter and he feels seconds away from not being able to breath.
At first, you didn't notice his irritated tone. While still turned away from him, tucking the corner of the sheets in, you reply, "Thought I would help wash your bedding. I made quite the mess on them last night, thanks to you." A grin begins to form on your face as you recalled the previous night's events, but it quickly faded when you turned to face Harry. His expression shows anger, yet his body language seems to be asking for help.
"You, you.... didn't a....ask. Oh my God, you.... what have you....." he cuts himself off with a wheeze, and that's when you notice he's having a panic attack. You carefully walk up to him, frowning from his words, but your actions shows that you're there to help him.
Harry begins hyperventilating and points to his mouth and throat, barley muttering, "I... I can't b-reath."
You collect his sweaty hands into yours and lead him over to the edge of the bed. Once he's sat, you kneel in front of him and softly speak, "Hey, it's okay, follow me. Deep breath in, and deep breath out. Deep breath in, and deep breath out. Good, keep going. Deep breath in, deep breath out." Harry follows your breathing exercise, and after a minute he finally feels like he can somewhat breath again.
Before he has a chance to apologize, you begin apologizing, for not realizing you changing his sheets would trigger him this much. "Harry, I am so sorry. I, I should have asked first. I wasn't thinking. I thought I was doing you a favor but if I - "
Harry cuts you off with a harsh tone, but this time he doesn't mean for it to come out so harshly. He's more mad at himself than anything. "No, don't apologize. It's.......... it's... fuck, I have somethin' I've been keepin' from you and I guess now is the perfect time to tell you. Just been nervous with how you'll react because m'past girlfriends never understood and never tried to help me and.... and I want to get better, I do. It's just hard."
"What is it, Harry? You can tell me. I won't judge you or be mad." Now you were getting impatient. What kind of secret has he been hiding from you?
Taking a deep breath, Harry spits out with teary eyes, "I've got OCD. Diagnosed OCD. Was diagnosed right after college. It's different for everyone, but mine makes me feel a need to do things a certain way, have things organized in a certain way. I like to be in control a lot. I hate being this way. I've been tryin' to suppress these OCD triggers since we started seeing each other because I didn't want to scare you away. Like I apparently did with my last girlfriend. It's just so hard." A sob escapes him after speaking.
You frown with sympathy. You knew Harry definitely had a type A personality, with how clean and organized he kept his house, but you never realized the reason behind it or to what extreme he took it to. "Shhh, it's okay, Harry. No need to get worked up. Thank you for telling me." You lace your fingers with his and get up off the floor to sit beside him on the bed. "Now, so I can understand, can you share with me what about me changing your sheets triggered you? Was it because you normally like doing it yourself? Or did I do it all wrong?"
You're being so kind and understanding, and it almost makes Harry even more emotional. "Um, you're gonna think m'crazy."
You let out a soft laugh and reply, "No I won't, silly. I just want to understand so I don't trigger you anymore. I would like to learn your triggers so I can prevent them."
"Well, it's just, I use a very specific amount of soap and a very specific setting on my machine. Then I sorta never use other sheets. The pair in the washer right now is the only pair I use. They're just the perfect amount of soft and I like the way they feel."
"But you have a whole shelf of folded sheets in the hall closet."
Shaking his head, Harry explains, "Don't use them for my bed. Only spare rooms if I have guest over. Or if I absolutely have to, I will use them on my bed, but that's rare."
You give a soft smile in understanding before asking, "Can you share more of your OCD triggers. Or things your OCD makes you do?"
Finally having calmed down from his crying, Harry takes a shuddered breath and answers, "Well, I don't allow outside shoes in m'house. That's why I ask you to line your shoes up by the front door. I keep a certain amount of pillows on m'couch at all times. I have to organize the dishwasher a certain way. And um, I didn't want to bring it up, but on our second date when I cooked for you, you sort of sat in my normal chair at the table. But that wasn't your fault for not knowing."
"Okay, those are good things to know. And sorry about taking your seat. You should have spoke up. I would have moved if I'd known."
"Baby, it's really okay. Honestly, it was great exposure therapy for me."
"Speaking of therapy," you hesitantly speak before continuing, "have you ever been to therapy? Or tried to get medicine that would help your OCD?" Harry shakes his head no, almost embarrassed to admit he's never sought out professional help. Maybe if he had sought out help earlier, his last relationship would have worked out. "Hey, that's okay. I can help you. If you want. Help you set up a doctors appointment and we can look into therapy for you. I'll also help you at home. Just gotta let me know what to do and what not to do."
"You don't realize how much this means to me, Y/n. I've struggled with this for so long, and to know I could get help makes me feel a little lighter inside." Harry's shoulders sag for the first time this morning, finally letting some of the tension in his body go. Unfortunately his muscles will always hold some amount of unwanted tension.
"Glad I could help." you answer and reach in for a hug. Harry gladly hugs you back and you stay embraced for quite a few minutes before breaking to say, "So, about your sheets....."
Taking a calming breath, Harry replies back to what he knows you're asking. "Honestly, you can finish washin' my sheets and comforter. Gonna let that be exposure therapy. But unfortunately, I don't think I can bare exposure therapy by sleeping on these sheets. Sorry."
You smile, happy he's at least compromising by allowing you to finish washing his precious sheets. You don't mind having to re-strip the bed if that means Harry will feel more comfortable having his original sheets back on before tonight's sleep.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! some people who've requested to be added doesn't allow me to @ you. please check your settings first.)
taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722 // @mema10 // @harryswifee // @jewelaponte // @fruity-harry // @triski73 // @chronicallybubbly // @prettygurl-2009 // @sincerely-yours-marsbar // @ilovezaynmalik08 // @whoreonmondays // @mads3502 // @littlealonebutterfly // @frickin-bats // @sassamanda77 // @harrystylesconcepts // @fkingstyles
My Masterlist Masterpost
A Cure
Summary: very cute and very horny firefighter Harry x author wife 🥹
Warnings: unprotected sex, very horny husband and wife, humiliation, all that jazz AND slight voyeurism if you squint!
Wc: 6.4k
The sound of knuckles rapping against her office door pulls Y/n out of her trance. She blinks her eyes after minutes of them sitting unfocused on her white laptop screen full of words she's not sure make any sense to her anymore, or maybe they didn't in the first place.
After another minute she hears the knocking again, rubbing her strained eyes. “Are you in there, baby? Or am I embarrassing myself.” Her husband's voice booms from the other side of the door, he really isn't that loud at all but it's probably because the only sound she has heard for the past couple hours are the sniffles and sobs as she reads her publishers emails she's been avoiding for at least five days.
Y/n clears her throat, standing up. “Yeah, Hi, sorry.” Her voice is barely above a whisper when her husband comes into view. He stands tall above her, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He looks down at her with a large smile carved into his face, pearly whites and dimples only an angel could make.
“How is writing going?” She lets out a puff of air before returning the smile
Y/n is currently working on her second novel after her debut was a big success, catching the attention of readers everywhere on social media; it soon became a number one best seller. Following the success, she's been pulled in every direction and spread too thin as her team pressures her to get this second novel out as soon as possible so she stays relevant and readers stay buzzing about her.
“It's going…” he gives her a soft frown, pressing a gentle kiss to her pouted mouth. “Well, I'm about to head out for work.” She nods, relaxing into his delicate touch as he runs his nose against her brow bone. “So soon?” He huffs a laugh, pulling his arm away from her to look at the watch on his wrist. “Well, considering I'm about to be late…” she grabs his wrist, looking at the time. 11:30, already?!
“Oh my god! I didn't even realize it, sorry I've just been knee deep in emails and I've got about twenty different documents going at a time and-” He cuts her off with a kiss, his big hands coming to cup at her cheeks. Y/n lets out a sigh of satisfaction, sinking into him deeper as her shaky hands come to clutch at his forearms, as if she's pulling him back to stay so they can spend the whole day like this.
He pulls away with reluctance, another laugh leaving his lips as her mouth follows his. “I've got to go fight fires, baby. Kinda my whole job.” She has what feels like a permanent frown on her face, but nods nonetheless. “I'll be back soon, my baby. I love you.” She smiles, watching him slowly back away while he squeezes her hand. “I love you too, H.”
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
Y/n sits at her desk, sipping on another random energy drink so she can keep her eyes open to write maybe one sentence that will actually make it into her book.
Her first book came easy. After over a decade of only dreaming of getting a book deal and becoming a huge author it finally came true at twenty six. She wrote the novel about her own life, swapping the names and dramatizing some situations for entertainment- but all in all it was exactly her and Harry's love story. A classic second chance romance, highschool sweethearts who break up during college because long distance is too hard, then once the male main character comes back to town they see each other after two years and instantly fall back in love. Happily ever after and all that.
It's true, for most of her life with Harry it has been a fairytale, and that's exactly why her book has been such a big success. Everyone fell in love with Brooks as she had with Harry. The cute, shy, overly kind, highschooler turned mushy, soft, sexy, firefighter husband was an easy drawn in as readers described it as the “love story of a century”.
She decided not to continue with Brooks and Summer’s love story because it had been told from start to finish, highschool to marriage. Now, she's focused on a new couple, struggling with names at first, now their story, family, their emotional backstories, everything. The only thing she was confidently writing was the cameos from Brooks and Summer since they were all friends in this series she was trying to create.
She's got the names, Ruby and Noah, but she has no clue what the fuck they are doing. She's looking forward to writing about their ski trip, where she's going to make Ruby and Noah hook up after summer's constant nagging that Ruby should give him a try. Enemies to lovers this time around.
She loves writing trips, she's not sure why. Maybe because as her characters have a get away it seems her mind does as well. She gets to pour everything into imagery while she describes the snowy trees and the beautiful big cabin they stay in for a week.
Maybe that's what she needs to crack this writer's block, a nice getaway. But unfortunately, that's not possible with Harry's job right now. They are short staffed on firefighters and even the teen volunteers aren't doing much to compensate for the lack of employment.
Y/n’s head falls back against her chair, groaning and slapping her hand on her keyboard. She looks over at her scribbled notes on the random legal pad she found in her desk drawer. As much as she had planned for this winter getaway, she couldn't find it in herself to write it. She's been painfully getting through writing the drive up to the cabin through the past couple days and she isn't even halfway done.
This particular scene is supposed to be big for Ruby and Noah, Ruby finds out more about Noah's childhood and she begins to feel differently about him. She finally makes sense of why he's so standoffish and reserved, all these years she thought he was just a selfish dick.
Y/n groans, crumbling up the paper and throwing it across the room because she can't bear to look at the plans she so excitedly wrote down a few nights ago when she's now in one of her worst blocks of her writing career. It's worse than when she forgot about a five thousand word essay in college and had to hurry up and write something two hours before due.
“Maybe I'll just take a walk.” She sighs out, lifting from her numb legs and finally exiting her dark office. She pads down the stairs, sliding on shoes and pulling a light coat over her clothes.
Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the sunshine after hours of staring at the artificial blue light her computer gives off. She breathes in the crisp early afternoon air. Hopefully this works.
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
The walk didn't help much, it definitely cleared her mind like walks usually do- but that worsened her case if anything because now she can't think of a single thing to write while they drive up to that stupid cabin.
Might as well get some chores out of the way, she thinks, as she fills up a water bottle after living off coffee and energy drinks. She walks out of the kitchen and back up the stairs where she opens the door to her and Harry's bedroom. She opens the closet door, looking at the mound of laundry they both have piled up, better get to it. She groans as she lifts their shared laundry basket, it's overflowing and has now piled onto the floor. Harry helps out as much as he can but with his crazy work schedule and y/n being locked in her office all day they don't get as much done as they would like.
She tosses clothes into the washer, pouring detergent in and closing the lid to start the load. In the meanwhile, she goes back to their room and pulls a big load of clean laundry onto her bed.
She begins folding them and tossing them into piles, one for pajamas, bras, boxers, and so on. She walks to the big closet to grab a stack of hangers, tossing shirts and dresses and pants over the hangers and placing them on the rod one by one.
She shoves her hand onto the dwindling pile of clothes, a lace material rubbing against her finger tips. She pulls at it, revealing the tiny babydoll she had worn for Harry one long night… almost two months ago. She sighs, hanging it up on one of the nicer hangers out of the random collection of mismatched ones they've collected over the years.
She bites her lips, staring at the pretty fabric. Her and Harry both have quite high sex drives, maybe because they are still in the early years of their marriage, maybe that's just how they are despite everyone saying they would get bored of each other especially because they were each other's first everything.
But between them being short staffed and Y/n getting swept up in the marketing and press of her book, they haven't had that much time for each other. She's lucky she has a touchy feely husband, because that's what comforts her. She needs to be in her husband's arms to feel better again. And since it's been so crazy, she hasn't gotten more than a lingering kiss for weeks and weeks.
She hangs the garment back up, ignoring the nagging feeling as she continues her chores.
Once the laundry pile is all folded she switches out the now clean laundry into the dryer and starts another load, plopping on the couch until Harry gets home.
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
“I'm home!” Y/n hears Harry shout through the house, perking up and dusting off the t-shirt she has over her little matching bra and panties set. She closes her laptop, she was sitting on the couch, trying to write as a distraction until her husband came home. “Hi,” Harry softly sings, a big cheesy smile on his face as he finally spots his wife after hours of working. She rises, stretching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He hums, giving her a squeeze and rubbing up and down her back.
“I missed my baby while I was away.” He mumbles, kissing the side of her head over and over. She smiles, inhaling his smoky smell that has grown to be comforting. It's him. A deeply sweet- almost fruity scent mixed with the ash and smoke of fires. “I missed you, H.” She whispers, pulling away and leaning in to kiss him. Her hand rests on his chest, opening her mouth slightly to slide her tongue against his.
She can feel his lips curling into a grin, his hands slide down, lifting her up and into his arms. “You missed me something special, Hm?” She nods then pushes her hands into his hair. “Take me upstairs, H.” He does as told, starting to slowly and carefully walk them toward the staircase.
A ring ruins the moment, making Harry sigh, sitting her down. Y/n sighs, wiping the side of her mouth. “Fuck,” He sighs, shaking his head as he looks down at his phone. “H?” He looks back up, his heart breaking as he looks at his wife. “Baby….” she frowns, trying to push back the urge to cry. “It's work. I'm sorry. I've got to go be a firefighter.” He softly smiles, attempting to lighten the mood.
It doesn't help though. She wraps her arms around herself, feeling stupid and childish that she's so emotional over her husband having to leave her to go fight a fire and potentially save lives. “I'm sorry, baby. I have to go.” His hand pulls away from her, waving before he walks out of the door.
She swallows the lump in her throat, walking up the stairs alone and straight into the bedroom. She pulls off the matching set she wore to surprise Harry, tossing it into the empty laundry basket. She pulls on normal pajamas, just a big shirt and a random pair of pajama shorts before washing her face and brushing her teeth.
She gets in bed, preparing to wait up and make sure Harry is alright before falling asleep.
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
Working from home is pretty lonely. Harry can be up and out of the door as early as four in the morning and sometimes gets calls all throughout the night. She got pretty used to being alone once Harry became a firefighter, and she even liked it. Being alone with her thoughts was great for her writing. She reminisced on the early days of her relationship, laughing at all the awkward stages and feeling emotional at how far they've come from the goofy teenagers they once were.
“I'm writing as fast as I can! It's not going to be good if it's not organic.” Y/n stresses over the phone, trying to push down the lump in her throat that strains her words. “Yes, Y/n, but we need to get a publish date on this book and get the ball rolling.” She groans, feeling tempted to throw her phone next to the discarded ball of paper from yesterday- but she knows that's a bit dramatic.
She hangs up, too frustrated to talk- or think about this goddamn book. She needs her husband, she needs his touch. A hug, a kiss, anything from him right now would ease her anxiety.
Time to start stress baking.
For as long as she can remember baking has been an outlet for Y/n- she's not sure why. Taking the horrible thoughts of the day and the physical anxiety and turning it into something yummy that puts a smile on everyone's face was fulfilling. She even put her own little recipes at the end of each chapter dependent on whatever Summer had made for Brooks- which was once again very much based on her and Harry.
White chocolate cranberry scones, chocolate cake, lavender lemon loaf, she is bound to be busy with all the different recipe cards laid out in front of her on their kitchen island.
She sifts the flour, bowls covering the table with a load of dishes already going in the dishwasher. The timer from the oven goes off, pulling her away from her distraction of yet another sweet treat. She pushes her hair out of her face, opening the oven and adding it to the collection of pastries that are making her house smell so good. Thank god she's got hungry firefighters to feed. She scribbles a note on the white board that's magnetized to the fridge to remind her to box up some of everything for Harry to bring in.
She's the fire chief's wife, she's has to keep them fed.
After what feels like days of baking, she's finally done. Two different cookies, two different loaves of bread, scones, and a cake.
Y/n flops down on the couch, turning on some trashy TV to keep her mind anywhere but that book she's supposed to be writing.
She gets about halfway through a forty five minute episode before she gets a glimpse of the time. She shoots up, starting on dinner knowing that her husband will arrive home anytime. He seems just as stressed out as she is about work, he just doesn't let it show as much, so she wants to make his life easier when she can.
Dinner didn't take long, she just whipped up something easy and quick for them. She flops back down on the couch, keeping the food on low so it will stay warm.
“Hi, baby.” Harry smiles, tossing his keys onto the table and coming to flop down next to her on the couch. He wraps his arms around her, cuddling into her. “What smells so good?” He sniffs at her neck as if she's covered in perfume, making her laugh and push away his touch even though she craves it more than anything right now. “Lots of random baked goods.” She softly laughs, pressing a kiss to his lips. He gives her an empathetic smile. “stressed, huh?” She shrugs, sitting up and he quickly follows.
“I made dinner too.” He thanks her. Kissing the back of her hand and trailing them up her arm. “How about after dinner we finish what we started the other night… maybe it will help you unwind?” She feels her stomach tighten. She wants to say no, take me right now before you're whisked away again, but she doesn't. She nods, closing her eyes and sinking into his touch before it's taken away.
He kisses her head, standing up and pulling her with him. “Let's get you fed and ready for me, huh? Can't have you losing energy half way through.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head with a smile on her face.
They eat dinner together, sitting at the island together instead of the proper dining table. They make small talk, catching each other up about their day, Harry telling her all about two kittens that were stuck in a tree that he had to rescue bright and early this morning. “So that's why you crawled out of bed at four in the morning?” Harry nods, standing up and pushing their bowls aside. “Yeah, but now we’re going to head back to bed.” He smiles, holding a hand out for her, which she takes.
Harry leans in, slotting his lips with his wife's. Another ring sounds through the silence of their kiss. Harry groans loudly into her mouth, obviously irritated. “I swear to god-” he yanks his phone from where it was sitting on the table. “What?!” He spits to the other person on the line, obviously frustrated. “Fuck.” He nods once more to the caller before hanging up. “I'm sorry, baby. A restaurant downtown is completely engulfed in flames, I have to go now.” She nods, trying to bite back her frown.
She loves that Harry is a firefighter, it's sexy and has made him build up the strong physique that holds her and protects her. She loves that he does so much for the city and has saved so many lives and homes, but as he's out saving others' homes it feels like he's abandoning theirs. He's home basically just to sleep, and nothing else. Their relationship is still strong, and their love will never fade, but not having quality time is taking a toll on both of them mentally.
“I promise, baby. I'll be home as soon as possible.” He rushes out of the house, running towards the door.
Y/n is once again left in the house all alone.
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
Y/n is woken up with a gentle shake, slowly blinking her blurry eyes open. “What time is it?” She slurs, sitting up when she knocks her open, timed out laptop off of her chest. Harry quickly catches it, softly laughing and placing it on the coffee table. “It's only been an hour since I left. You fell asleep while writing, baby.” He rubs her back, placing a kiss to the side of her head.
“Oh shit!” She shoots up, grabbing her laptop. “That is due at midnight, I need to send it to my editor!” Harry stops her from running up to her office, hooking an arm around her. “Hey, hey. Slow down, baby.” She huffs, sitting next to him on the couch.
“Are you still struggling to finish this chapter?” He kisses her head again, brushing her hair out of her face. She nods, feeling the anxiety build up in her body at the thought of not getting this chapter done in time. “Yes. It's so frustrating,I just feel defeated. Like I need… a cure?”
Harry taps on his bottom lip with his pointer finger while he's thinking. “A cure?”
Y/n nods, “a cure.”
“Well, go try to finish writing so your editor doesn't get mad at you. If you need any help or words of encouragement I'll be in our room.” She nods, rising up from the couch, collecting her laptop in her arms before kissing her husband. He smiles when she pulls away, giving her ass a small smack.
“Go get to it, baby.”
She walks up the steps, still sleepy as she sits back in her desk chair and cracks her screen back open. She gets to typing, putting any coherent thought down to try to make it make sense, she can always have her editor put it into better formed sentences that flow better with the rest of the story.
It's a little past 1:30 when she finally gets into bed, crawling in next to her shirtless husband.
Harry groans, wrapping both his arms around her while he keeps his eyes closed- too sleepy to actually open them. She cuddles into him, finally relaxing after what seems like days of tense muscles and mental gymnastics. “Did you find your cure?” She shakes her head, “no cure yet. But I got it done.”
He whispers a cheer, squeezing her. “Good job, baby. I knew you'd do it. Now go to sleep, we'll celebrate tomorrow.” She giggles into his neck, wrapping a leg around him.
“Celebrate?” He nods, basically snoring. “I'll finally fuck you, promise, baby.”
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
“Guess what the fire chief got called in for?” Harry asks, walking into the house surprisingly early. Y/n spins around in her chair, her eyebrows shooting up. “You're home, H!” He nods, walking over to her. “What did you get called in for?” He stays silent for a beat to dramatize and leave her in suspense.
“A fourteen year old kid got his head stuck in a fence. And they called me, the fire chief, to get him out.” Y/n laughs, almost choking on her water. “So,” Harry starts, grabbing her water from her hand and taking a sip of it. “I said don't call me, don't bother me, I'm taking the day off to spend with my wife.” She smiles, scanning him up and down.
He's still in his red suspenders, fire pants, and the navy blue shirt that hugs his pecs and biceps more than should be allowed for everyday firefighting. His hair is crazy, pushed back with a strand flopping in his eyes. His skin is covered in black ash and soot, and he smells of fire but it only heats her skin.
His pointer finger curls to lift her chin up, his thumb softly resting under her bottom lip. He slots his lips with hers, making her whimper with need. Her hand clutches at the short sleeve of his shirt, feeling his toned muscles under it. “Hop up” he lifts her into his strong arms, walking them up to their bedroom.
He slams open the door, throwing her on the bed. They both laugh loudly, her arms reaching out for him again. He knees the bed, on his hands and knees while he hovers over her. Neither of them care that he's covered in black ash on their light duvet.
His hand slides up her t-shirt, smiling at the feeling of her warm skin even though he knew she was braless. “Take this fuckin’ thing off.” He half-jokes, pulling at the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. Harry pulls his suspenders down, yanking off his tight shirt. Y/n hated to see the shirt go, but she loves saying goodbye. Her hands slide down his chest and onto his chiseled abs. “Keep the rest on.” Harry's eyebrow raises, his mouth slightly popped open.
“Keep it on?” She nods, then slides a suspender back up his arm.
Harry smiles, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard cock out. It slaps against his belly, making Y/n's mouth water. He yanks at her pants, making her shuffle down the bed. They both laugh as he pulls her pants down, giggles flying through the room as her pants fly through the air.
He takes in her naked body, his eyes dragging down her almost like she's his prey. Suddenly she feels shy under her husband's heavy gaze, pulling her arms in to cover herself. “Don't. You. Fucking. Dare.” He practically growls, yanking her arms away. He opens her legs, his hand sliding over cunt.
“I'm going to absolutely devour you. I'm not going to stop until you're shaking.” She smiles, wrapping her legs around him.
Harry grabs his cock, lining it up with her. “Are you wet enough, baby?” He asks, his hand slipping down for a moment to touch her pussy. “Oh,” an evil grin forms on his face. “You're dripping, huh?” Her face heats up, looking away because she knows she'll be too embarrassed to look him in his eye.
Harry softly but quickly pulls her face back toward him, opening her jaw with his thumb and spitting into her mouth.
She pulls him in with her legs, moaning. He lines himself up with her, finally pushing it. Y/n cries out at the feeling of him finally being inside of her after so long, it only eggs Harry on.
His constant thrusting shuffles her up and down the bed, and he loves every second of watching her tits bounce while his cock is stuffed deep inside of her. “Fuck, H” she gasps, reaching out for his arm to somewhat stabilize herself. “Feels good, baby?” He slips his thumb inside of her mouth, watching her perfect pouty lips wrap around him. She frantically nods, breathless and already shaking from the feeling of her husband's big, thick, bare cock inside of her.
“H, fuck, I don't know if I'm going t-” he cuts her off, smashing his mouth into her. She can hear how wet she is as the sound of wet squelching and heavy pants fill the room. It's enough to turn her cheeks red hot again, trying to ignore it. “Do you hear how fucking wet you are?” Harry says, biting at her neck. All chances of her not being humiliated are thrown out of the door the second Harry opens his dirty mouth. She almost forgot how embarrassingly filthy he can talk.
“Tell me, baby, do you hear how wet you are? Your pussy is dripping all over the sheets, you're making an absolute mess of me.”
She ignores his mouth, trying to keep some of her dignity.
“Tell me right now, or I'll stop fucking you.” She whines, gasping as he hits her special little spot. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her back arches as he sends electricity from her head to her toes. “I'll stop right now.” His hips come to a vault, and suddenly she's sobbing out her answer. “Yes, fuck, H. I'm so wet. I'm so fucking wet and it's all for you.” She falls into a chant of “it's all for you, all for you H” until he starts fucking her again now that he's gotten exactly what he wants.
“So wet, and tight, and warm for me, baby. I think your pussy was made just for me.” She nods, she's so cock drunk she thinks she might sign all her rights away if asked. “Cause my dick fits perfectly in you, it hits all those special little spots that puts that little pout on your lips.”
She gasps, gripping his arm tighter as she gets closer. “Yeah, you're going to cum? Cum on my cock, it's okay. You can cum baby, I know it's been so long.”
She moans a mantra of his name over and over again as she finally orgasms, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her.
Harry cums shortly after her, moaning in her ear and telling her how good she makes him feel.
He flops down next to her after he carefully pulls out, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. “You okay? I didn't go too rough?” She shakes her head, resting it on his bicep. He presses a soft peck to her lips then gently rubs her cheek with his thumb. “No, H. It was perfect.” He smiles, glancing away like he didn't just say the dirtiest things she's ever said to her. “I'm sorry we haven't had a lot of time to be together. I hate being so busy.” She nods, “it's okay, H. I know you can't help it.” He bites at the inside of his bottom lip, sighing.
He moves his head closer to hers, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against hers. “I love you.” She smiles, sliding her hand down his arm and threading their fingers together. “I love you too, babe.”
He sits up, on his knees. “What are you doing?” He grabs her legs, tossing them onto his shoulders. He kisses her ankle, “I didn't forget about my promise. I want your legs shaking. I'll carry you around everywhere tomorrow.” She giggles as he stretches her legs out, bending to suck and lick at her nipples.
She pushes him away, making him laugh. “Not gonna let your husband get a little frisky?” She rolls her eyes with a smile, “I've been letting you get frisky since we were sixteen, I've had enough.” He scoffs, sliding inside of her again.
He presses kisses over her leg, using his over hand to press into her lower belly. She gasps, grabbing his wrist. “Am I too big?” She attempts to roll her eyes at his cockiness but is cut off with a moan when he presses into her again.
Harry starts thrusting in and out of her, painfully slow. All of his touches are amplified, she can feel every vein on him. “Fuck, babe,” she hardly manages to get a word out of her mouth as her hips wiggle. She's inconsolable as she lets out sobs, her back arching and hips rolling against his.
She clenches around him, sending a chill rolling down his back. “Fuck, baby. Do that again.” She clenched around him, spasming around him as he perfectly rolls his hips. Thank god he knows how to use all that.
She whimpers his name, begging for him to give her anything he can. A blissed out smile frames Harry's face, his pearly white teeth peaking out while he bites his lips to silence his grunts and groans. She pulls him in even closer with her legs and he bottoms out inside of her. He gasps her name, his hand clenching at her calf.
“Don't hide, H. I want to hear how good you feel.” His mouth falls open at her words, his hazy eyes falling closed in pleasure. He shudders, letting out a shaky breath. “F-fuck, baby.” She clenches around him once again, holding it as he pushes back inside of her.
“You f-feel like heaven, you're so fucking perfect. So perfect.” He moans, his mouth open while he thrusts in and out of her. He whines, making Y/n want to bite a pillow and scream into it from the noises her husband is making. “I fucking love this pussy, baby. Tell me whose it is.” Her back arches, letting out a pleasured sigh as she grips the sheets. “It's your pussy, H. You're the only one who gets to cum it in.” He smiles, nodding.
They both cum at the same time, their moans blending as they cry each other's names.
Harry finally lets his fire pants drop, kicking them off the bed once he's calmed down.
“I'm hiring more people as soon as possible. There's no way I went so long without you.” She laughs as he kisses her, both of them laying together in their post-sex bliss. She fidgets with his wedding ring, her head on his chest. “Yeah, I miss having you around the house.” Harry nods, squeezing one of her fingers. “Me too.”
They both relax into the bed, staying silent and enjoying each other's company.
“Round three in the shower?”
📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-
Y/n looks over at her office door which is now open, her sleepy husband stands in the doorway, the only thing he's wearing is low hanging pajama pants. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, his hair going in every different direction. “Why are you awake?” She softly laughs at his question, looking at the time on her laptop. “H, it's almost 11AM.” His sleepy eyes go wide for a split second before they return to their tired half-open state.
“Well, you should be in bed with me.” He creeps over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders while she sits in her office chair. “I'm writing?” He dramatically gasps, pressing a kiss to her neck. “You're writing?” She nods, continuing to type even as he kisses her.
“Did inspiration strike?” She nods, smiling. “Last night kind of inspired me. I think it's exactly what I needed.” Harry raises one eyebrow, his fingertips coming to pull the laptop closer to him. “Can I read it?” She nods, letting him pull it into his arms, watching him scroll back up to the start of the chapter.
After last night she finally had the inspiration strike to write Ruby and Noah hooking up at the ski getaway. This will be the peak in her book, now that they are together the rest will be a breeze to write.
She watches as his pajama pants slowly grow, making her hands shake with anticipation. “Holy fuck. You wrote that based on last night?” She smiles, blushing and nodding.
“That was your cure, huh?”
She didn't think about it that way. “I finally got my cure.”
Harry sinks down onto his knees, sliding his hands up her thighs, under the shirt of his she was wearing to bed. He hooks his fingers into her panties, dragging them down. “Now I need my cure.” He whispers, sliding her panties down her legs and into the pocket of his pajama pants. “I've got a big problem,” he looks down, cupping his large bulge. “And you're the only cure for it.”
He parts her legs, smiling at the sight of her wet cunt.
“Oh god, baby. How long have you been like this?” He pouts up at her, touching her with delicate fingers. “So long, H. I've been thinking about you since I got up.” She whines, pushing her shirt back so it doesn't block his view.
He lets out a sympathetic whine for her, his eyebrows pinching together with a worried expression. “My poor girl, I've got to take care of you now. You woke up with a throbbing pussy thinking of me, Hm?” She nods, carefully watching his every move.
Her breath shudders as her eyes follow his head sinking down to between her legs. Her eyes go wide, feeling his tongue slide into her. She whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling of his warm tongue sliding up and down her cunt.
“No, no. Go ahead and write. It's the only thing that cures your writer's block.” She gulps, her hands shaking as she goes back to writing with her husband's head between her legs. She slowly types onto her document as he licks her up and down. She tries to keep her eyes open, typing whatever comes to her mind- which she's more than sure will be a jumbled mess for her to fix later. “H, please babe.” He shakes his head. “Your publisher will be mad if you don't write it.” He licks her clit, pulling it into his mouth to suck at it.
Her hand falls to the top of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. He shakes his head again, grabbing her hand and placing it back on her keys.
She moans, rolling her hips. She's fully given up on writing, her head fallen back as he continues to eat her pussy.
“Baby,” he laughs, kissing her thigh. “Well, I can't be mad. I guess you deserve it after working so hard.” He lifts up to kiss her, laughing at her failed attempt to write like he previously ordered her to.
He sinks back down between her legs, flicking his tongue against her clit. She groans, arching her back and whimpering. She throws a leg over his shoulder and he instantly wraps his arm around it. “You taste so good.” His mouth is loud against her, making lewd noises as he sucks, licks, and flicks his tongue against her skin.
“You always taste so good, baby.” He groans against her, losing himself in the smell, feeling, and taste of her. He moans against her over and over again, sliding his tongue deep in her to taste her wetness straight from the source. He loves how wet he can get her, how just the thought of him gets her so worked up she spends the whole morning with a wet, throbbing cunt until he takes matters into his own hands.
He often fantasizes about catching her touching herself- just because he knows her writing is always based on their experience and when she is writing a particularly spicy scene she tends to get worked up.
He can imagine silently creeping into her office to catch her with her legs open and her small hand down her panties trying to satisfy herself when they both know it's his hands she's craving.
She falls to pieces above him, her chest rapidly falling and rising while her mouth drops open to praise him and all the pleasure he's giving her. “You can cum, baby. It's okay.” He closes his eyes, enjoying the last few moments of her on his tongue. He loves the silky feeling of her, how warm and soft she is.
“H, I'm cumming!” She moans, gripping at his hair while she rolls her hips trying to get herself there. Seconds later she cums all over his mouth, leaving him to clean her up.
He wipes his mouth, sucking his fingers off before he yanks her down to give her a messy tongue kiss to let her taste herself.
She tries to catch her breath, giggling now that she's come back down. “Do you feel better now?” She nods, kissing him again.
“Just needed your husband to take care of you, huh?” She nods once again, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he wraps his big, strong arms around her. “Now go sit back there in case I need you again.” He agrees to it with a large smile on his face, walking back to the much bigger and comfier chair she normally uses for reading.
He’s always been the cure.
A/N: WOWOWOW!! beside a small 1k word blurb this is my return to writing after almost a year and a half! I thought about making an Author y/n one random day in the shower and with a little help from my beautiful, amazing, creative best friend @ziallslvr firefighter Harry and author Y/n was born 🥹!!!!
I feel so passionate about these two! They are my sweet babies❤️ This specific Y/n is straight from my heart, and might be a little self indulgent! I hope you all love her as much as I do ❤️
PLEASEEEEEE!!! IF YOU LIKED THIS REBLOG AND SHARE YOUR THOUGHT WITH ME :D
current!harry styles x stylist assistant!reader
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
instagram concept
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
shes whimsy shes grace
part 1 | part 2
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
y/nsdreams
liked by 35 users
y/nsdreams hellooo my 46 followers, something so fun is happening you guys are gonna freak out when you find out. Puss puss!!! I just got off the phone with my swedish grandma, it means kiss kiss!!
view 6 comments
messages
harryupdates
liked by 9,431 users
harryupdates Harry seen in paris a few days ago
view 235 comments
user6 im happy hes been seen
user8 heeelllooooo handsome
user2 like wowwwww, im blushing, hyperventelating, im not kissing
↳ user2 @ user2 kidding*** whoops
⋆˙⟡ harrystyles followed y/nsdreams on instagram ⋆˙⟡
y/nsdreams
liked by harry_lambert, harrystyles and 40 others
y/nsdreams i loveeee my new job, i loveeee paris and im back in the uk tomorrow but like, london all the time, paris occasionally???
view 19 comments
harry_lambert
liked by harrystyles and 34,1k others
harry_lambert paris with my barefoot lady
view all 101 comments
y/nsdreams darling you shouldnt have
↳ harry_lambert @ y/nsdreams i had to document
user4 who is she? shes so pretty!
user9 i see you harry edward
harryupdates
liked by 24,8k users
harryupdates harry recently followed @y/nsdreams on instagram! she is believed to be harry lamberts new assistant
view 3,984 comments
user8 like shes so awesome wow
user9 i went to the whimsy competition, but left when she showed up
user4 is it to early to say... ship?
↳ user2 @ user4 like she better not go there istg
y/nsdreams posted on their story
harrystyles replied to your story.
y/nsdreams
liked by harrystyles and 13,042 others
y/nsdreams ...hello everyone??? where do you come from? whats happening even??? hi?
view 892 comments
harrystyles Quite impressed by this pose.
↳ y/nsdreams @ harrystyles you should try it!
user4 @ harrystyles this is insanity
user7 my spirit animal?
yoursisteruser never loose your sparkle pls
↳ y/nsdreams @ yoursisteruser id never shed my second skin
user1 likeeeee i love thissss so much
user7 i recommend fine line by harry styles!
↳ y/nsdreams @ user7 ill make sure to give it a listen!
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
let me know what you think!!!
part 2 !!!!!
boyfriend!harry
clingy - by @atlafan
description: (ask) “can we get a clingy harry berry please”
pairing: singer boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: angst, fluff
our canyon moon - by @finelinevogue
description: “a car journey along the Malibu coast with Harry.”
pairing: (quarantined) famous boyfriend!harry x reader
warnings: quarantine, covid-19, slight angst (like tiny) and swearing
cuddle bug - by @inkslingerharry
description: “Harry is back from doing promotions, so both of you are quite clingy.”
pairing: (quarantined) famous boyfriend!harry x reader
warnings: quarantine, covid-19, slight angst (like tiny) and swearing
drunk in love - by @trulymadlysydney
description: “In which Harry is drunk and cuddly and you, being the wonderful girlfriend you are, are stuck taking care of him the whole night.”
pairing: singer boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: none
spill your guts or fill your guts - by @harrysgoldenline
description: “Harry is needy and you visit him on tour.”
pairing: singer boyfriend!harry x reader
warnings: swearing
happiness looks good on you - by @finelinevogue
description: “a time together in the golden, Italian sun, with Harry.”
pairing: famous boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing
promise? - by @wellbafineline
description: “Harry and famous!y/n play Spill your Guts or Fill your Guts”
pairing: famous boyfriend!harry x famous!y/n
warnings: none
okay, lover boy - by @finestoflines
description: “a trip to Paris with your loving boyfriend Harry.”
pairing: boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing
sleep is for the strong - by @finelinevogue
description: “you suffer from narcolepsy and Harry is always there for you.”
pairing: famous boyfriend!harry x narcoleptic!y/n
warnings: narcolepsy, swearing
gotta get better - by @gucciharrywritings
description: “Harry is too stressed.”
pairing: famous boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: minor angst, fluff
green-eyed monster - by @stylesmessiah
description: (ask) “jealous bf harry + harry feels insecure about your friendship with someone, maybe a co-worker so you tell him he’s the only one you want”
pairing: famous boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: smut (oral)
a costa coffee collapse - by @finelinevogue
description: “you faint in public and Harry is terrified.”
pairing: boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: fainting, swearing, nausea
everything - by @rawdogmeharry
description: “the one where Harry’s tired and lovie is his saving grace.”
pairing: boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: none
{part two}
dream with me - by @astranva
description: “the one where y/n makes up bedtime stories for harry and he records one for the world to listen to.”
pairing: boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: (some) explicit language
domestic - by @erodasfishtacos
description: (ask) “Maybe just like what a normal night looks like for them in school after getting out of class/practice, etc just really domestic and fluffy, maybe a little smut”
pairing: MLB boyfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: language, sexual content