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i see no difference.

memory

harry has to walk his drunk girlfriend home after girls night, but is that even his girlfriend?

wordcount: 2.2k+

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Harry swore he could have spotted (Y/N) from a mile away, even without the liquid shimmer of her dress wrapped around her form. Despite the glow of the neon lights over the entire sidewalk with the club name displayed in all caps, she still outshone every person still waiting in line to get in, the grouping of others on standby for their ride shares, and her group of friends that had been so gracious as to let him know that she was ready to go home and much too tipsy (read: drunk) to walk herself home despite her insistences.

Only when he made it close enough to hear the soft echoes of laughter and drunken conversation, sparkling heels clicking against pavement, was he spotted. It was almost heartbreaking to watch the way her jaw dropped in grinning surprise. He could feel his own lips stretching into a dimpled smile, though he attempted to temper the reaction when her grouping of friends followed her line of sight to catch his approach.

"Harry!" she bubbled, closing the distance between them on wobbly legs. Despite the even, obstacle-free length of the sidewalk, she still found something to catch under her heel to send her right into his arms.

Sublimation - acrylics and pen on wood

Mutation 🐌 paint & pens on wood

PRIVATE MEETINGS (h.s)

(masterlist) || (taglist)

broken elevator (pt 1)

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: after fighting with himself over a past encounter with you, harry decides he can’t forget about you like the rest (or take that elevator ever again). when he calls you into his office to discuss “reports”, things go exactly how he planned.

word count: 5.6k

cw: smut, dirty talk, penetration, finger play, controlled oral (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, mutual masturbation

a/n: heyyyyyy. it’s been a while. a very long while. i had this in my docs for months and just now got around to finishing it. guess lawyer harry really inspired me. this is the part two of broken elevator that some people asked for, so, you’re welcome. enjoy you freaks ;)

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

Things are…tense today, to put it mildly. It seems the whole office is feeling it. Perhaps it’s my problem? A tone I’m setting that everyone is forced to bask in. But is that really my fault? Yeah, probably.

#png icons #random pngs #cute pngs #frame pngs #png pack #transparent png #cutie pngs #kpop pngs #png images #aesthetic pngs #apple png #png #carrd pngs #fine line #quotes

Harry Styles x Reader A flight where you meet a cute guy with green eyes and a smirk that could convince you to do crimes had never felt so good

wc: 7.2K

warnings: Smut smut smut - there is some plot, but the main topic is smut taglist: @triski73 @run-for-the-hills

Your pupils blurred as you looked up towards the giant screen set in the heavy foot traffic of the airport. Large letters of destinations, gate numbers, and other random numbers and letters your brain couldn't bear to comprehend rotated through like a revolving door until eventually, you couldn't bear to look at it anymore. You groaned. Your neck was already aching, though you hadn't set foot on the plane yet, let alone been able to find the proper queue you were meant to be in. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes seemed to help for a very short moment, just long enough for you to pair your flight with its proper gate number on that dreadful screen with the most heinous neon green font color. ------ You'd never been more grateful to be cramped inside this big ball of steel that would somehow soar through the sky as it carried people from different walks of life to one destination. If not for the opportunity to sit afterwards, feeling like it took ages of walking on your part to find your gate, you wouldn't have been so pleased to be in the company of a much too small seat sat next to a much too small window that you'd have the pleasure of occupying for the next eight hours. But right now, this sorry excuse for a cushioned chair was heaven. As the plane began filling up, you were pleased to see that the entire row you were occupying was empty, except for yourself. A surge of hope occupied your thoughts, but you tried to smother and suffocate it down, not wanting to get your hopes up. And it turns out that was for the best. At what seemed to be the very last possible moment, once nearly every other seat had been taken up in the rows both forward and backward from yours, you heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps that pounded down the aisle in urgency. Your neck was pressed against the insanely underpadded headrest as your eyes widened in horror. Your inner monologue pleading to the creator in the sky that this mystery person was not going to take up residence in what you now felt like was your row. God didn't listen, but at least it wasn't a complete disappointment, you would come to find. In fact, it would be a plane ride you'd never forget.

Suddenly, you weren't really mad anymore. Politely, he smiled as he slung his backpack off his shoulders and placed it underneath what you assumed to be his assigned seat-aka, the aisle seat in the same row as you. His rapidly moving chest made it evident that he had run the entire length of the airport until he ended up in this exact spot. You wondered if he was always someone who runs a bit late for everything-not that that was relevant to the situation at hand. Merely an observation and a curious one at that. It wasn't a crime to gnaw at the idea of who this man could be to the outside world. As he sat himself in the aisle seat, with only a middle seat separating the two of you, you already knew you were in for a quite enthralling trip. You smiled back even more politely, but quickly removed your gaze from his, feeling as if you knew your eyes would linger even more than they had should you allow them that type of freedom to do so. But your eyes would soon betray you the moment the stranger slung his blue colored jacket off of his upper body, leaving him in a thin, cream colored shirt that looked tattered, but in a cool, vintage sort of way. Tattoos decorated his tan arms-you found your eyes tracing over the ones that you could make out, without it being too obvious that you were, to put it simply, checking him out. Just when you thought he couldn't get any more appealing to your eye, the stranger bent down to hold his luggage in both arms, forcing his biceps to bulge out from the confines of the hemmed sleeves on his shirt. Hold on; It gets worse--then, he lifts the luggage into the upper compartment, causing the cotton hem of his shirt to rise, which gives a peek at the black ink decorating his lower abdomen. They seemed to be some sort of floral artistry to the ink stain, but you didn't dare allow your eyes to linger, because a). You weren't sure you would be able to break your eye contact on the needle-poked art once your gaze was fixated, and b). If you were caught staring - which you very much would've - that would mean you had to sit on a several-hour flight next to a man who caught you checking him out. Quickly, you turn your head in the complete opposite direction, looking out at the black tarmac from the window that felt like a prized possession at the time. Now, it felt like something even better than a prize - a treasure, if you will, or an escape. “Hey.”

Your eyes followed his ringed hand that remained- something that just meeting acquaintances wouldn’t normally do, regardless of how much they got along. And you and Harry were getting on quite well, even better than that. You cleared your throat as your eyes moved up to his for a brief moment before he flinched his hand away. As if nothing unusual happened from his point of view - though his cheeks were already turning red from his lingering accidental touch-Harry combed his hand through the hair that sat on the top of his head as an excuse to utilize the hand that was once pressed down onto the warmth of your thigh. Simultaneously, you both pulled your eyes from each other. Harry opted to look at the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, and you chose to focus on the setting sun that had hued the sky a pink and orange tone. Then,by the grace of god, the flight attendant began making her rounds and quickly made her stop at your aisle that served you and Harry. “Can I buy you a drink? I know it’s shitty airplane booze, but..”, his sentence tapered off with a shrug of his shoulders and you couldn’t tell if this was a situation like a man coming up to you at a bar, saying “come here often”, and then purchasing your drink of choice in the hopes of getting under the waistband of your jeans later, or if this was a simple offer that didn’t go anything above kindness to a just met stranger. Your mind already seemed smitten, encouraging you to believe that, despite mentally telling yourself that it was most likely friendly. “Sure”, you nodded as nonchalantly as you could. Harry’s gaze lingered on yours longer than normal, and you could’ve sworn you saw his pupils move from your eyes downward in the direction of your chest. Your breath began to quicken at the silly thought as it entered your head. Shortly after, you and Harry were comfortable in your now dimly lit row. A plastic cup containing red wine was safely tucked in your hand, and a glass of some sort of IPA was tucked away in his. “You know what my favorite part about overnight flights is?” You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “What’s that?” “These blankets”, he said with way too much excitement in his voice as he pulled the cheap fleece from the plastic cover that had been passed down by a flight attendant at the same time as the alcohol. “Really?”, you chuckled and watched as Harry draped the blanket over his front, sadly making his prominently muscular thighs disappear from view. Harry caught on to your dissatisfaction with what he found enthused him. “You’re telling me you don’t love these?" You shrug at the way Harry’s eyes seemed like they would pop out of his head in disbelief. He looked quite cute. “They’re fine, I guess, but also kind of scratchy, don’t you think?” “Great, I'm sat in a row with a crazy person.” “Hey!”, your arm flew, lightly smacking what you assumed was Harry’s abdomen-you nearly groaned out loud at the hardened muscle that your hand collided with that probably didn't even feel like a speck of dust on his skin. “When’s the last time you actually used one of these?” Harry questioned as if there was no way on god’s green earth that you just insulted his favorite advantage to an overnight flight through the sky.

This made you think. It had actually been a while since you last took an overnight flight that resulted in you being dependent on one of these things. This realization caused your hands to become curious as they reached for the plastic-covered blanket from the pocket in the back of the seat in front of you. Harry watched in amusement as you busted open the package and laid the blanket across your lap with palms soothing along the texture. “So..”, Harry asked expectantly, making you chuckle. “It’s.. better than I remembered, I guess.” “Told you!” “But!-”, you interrupted Harry before he could continue on and explain how he was correct and you were not- he seemed like the type to play something up in the most non-serious way ever. “-It’s still not a highlight of the flight.” “Then what is? What’s been your favorite part of this flight so far?”, Harry’s voice became tinted with a sort of hoarseness that you weren’t sure was because he was in dire need of liquid in his throat or something else entirely; something much much more off subject, yet the thoughts had been swirling around your brain since you saw his shirt raise and the skin just above his low waisted jeans peak out to the world. You escaped your zoned thoughts and focused on Harry’s expression. A smirk adorned in a single dimple on the side his lips were pulled up towards, his god chiseled arms crossed in front of him. “The company isn’t too bad, I suppose”, you fluttered eyelashes above your doe eyes that attempted to match the message that you hoped came across. Thankfully, Harry caught on to your obvious flirting, making his teeth dig into the skin of his cheek and his smirk look almost arrogant from your point of view. You thought it made him look even more sexually appealing, which you hadn’t thought possible unless he were to be fully unclothed, of course… “Glad I can be of service.” Harry’s voice was warm as his eyes held yours in confidence, nearly making you feel the urge to crawl under your seat and have a fit of giggles and flailing of your hands. You had a little crush on him; there was absolutely no denying it now. Even more importantly, due to his gaze, lingering touches, and continuation of conversation, you felt that Harry was on the same page-which you’d be correct in thinking. You were thankful for the chatting between you both tapering off when it did. This way, you could properly dive into your brain and curate daydreams of you and him in both innocent and… lewd situations. Eventually, your eyes gave way to the exhaustion of air travel as you rested them without fully falling asleep. Meanwhile, your head played out some of these little fantasies. One scenario in particular, you were finding yourself replaying over and over. It involved Harry and the palm of his hand spread wide along the length of your neck. In your mind, his breath was heavy and panting as he pressed just the right amount of pressure across your windpipe, with his other hand around your waist, holding your body down as he fucked into your whining form. You’d moan out a common “right there”, triggering him to move his cock in and out of your creaming hole even harder in order to hit the spot you were proclaiming was giving you an immense amount of pleasure. Meanwhile, in the reality of the airplane, Harry noted the way you began to squirm in the seat next to him. Shifting your leg to have crossed over the right and then the left, adjusting where your arms were from across your chest to down in your lap. You hadn’t been this mobile the entire flight, which had him intrigued. He watched as you subconsciously dug your top front teeth into the plumpness of your lower lip–his cock quite liked that sight as it twitched underneath the cloth of his pants.

“The things I would do to you if we weren't on a plane right now.” He didn’t give you much time to bask in the sensuality of his words before his hand moved in a spider-like fashion to the top of your pants. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back for giving in and wearing a pair of joggers as opposed to jeans, which would’ve made this situation a lot harder. Though you were sure Harry would've found a way to further his mission regardless. “Can I touch you?” His voice was confident, yet needy as your eyelids fluttered open to briefly stare at him. You nodded with a fucked-out, relaxed expression. Something that made Harry smirk as his hand snuck beneath the top layer of fabric that separated his hand from your thin panties. You let out a wince, gnawing deeper into your finger as he pressed into your cloth-covered cunt. “Poor thing, you must’ve been having some good mental images to be this drenched.” His taunting only intensified your need for him –thankfully, he must’ve been able to read your mind as he began moving his pointer and middle fingers in a circular motion directly over your clit. You whined, but it was much too loud for the current predicament, resulting in Harry stopping his hand movement altogether. He breathed a “shhh” in your ear, which was soothing and also served as a reminder that getting caught was not an option. "Keep quiet or I stop", he whispered with the picture-perfect combination of possessive and relaxed. You obeyed, making Harry's hand pick up where it left off. A gratified sigh left your lips, along with a hiss of air. “Yeah, right there?” he mumbled in your ear, sending you nodding frantically alongside a “fuck” as his hand seemed to be applying more and more pressure with each graze of his fingertips. The immense amount of friction his fingers were able to create over your panties had your body subconsciously leaning back and to the side, moving further into Harry until your shoulder was directly leaning on him for support to keep yourself afloat. "Yeah relax. Just like that", he breathed in your ear as his fingers teasingly moved along the side seam of your panties that belonged to the specific piece of cloth that covered your cunt. "Can I slip these to the side? Feel how wet you are?", his voice lingered with a remnant of husk in your ear. "Mhm", you hummed at his teasing movements that didn't hesitate once given the full consenting package. Harry's middle finger dipped below the fabric, a singular digit gliding slowly, teasingly along your slit that was already leaking with an amount of arousal that you felt was borderline embarrassing.

He groaned quietly as your hips dared to squirm under his ministrations, yet remained still in fear he would stop - the very last thing you wanted him to do. For a beat, his finger merely glided along your slick lower lips, avoiding the very sensitive blossoming bud he knew lay beyond the barrier of skin, yet teasingly avoided. "Harry", you breathe his name quietly for the first time, nearly making him give in to touch you where you wanted. However, his mission to milk this sexual interaction as much as possible weighed much more heavily in his decision. "Hmm?", his voice was an erotic hum behind smirking lips and eyes that peered down at you. He monitored the way your eyes twitched behind your closed lids each time he dragged his finger upward, moving tantalizingly slow in the direction of your puffy clit, yet not reaching the destination just yet. "I want it." Harry smirked, "Want what?" You let out a whine, forcing Harry to stop his teasing and instead cup your bare sex completely in the palm of his hand. "Keep. Quiet.", he spoke straight in your ear; you nodded quickly for way longer than needed, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. "Sorry, please don't stop." "Thought so", he smirked just before dipping two of his fingers beyond the threshold of your slit and onto your absolutely drenched core that felt as if it would explode just from his minor touch. You sucked in a breath, making sure to keep quiet in the process. "Good job, keep quiet." The rough command of his voice had your legs shaking, not to mention the way one of his single finger tips dragged upwards from your wet hole to your clit. Your teeth dug desperately deep into your bottom lip, trying to suppress the noises you were so needily accustomed to making during sexual encounters that go above and beyond your expectations-and Harry can tell. It gets him off even more—makes his cock that much harder as he watches you struggle underneath his circular movements that have made way to your clit. So needy and so, so warm under his touch, he can't help but imagine what it would feel like on his tongue whilst flicking it back and forward as your juices spilled down the corners of his mouth. At this moment, he wishes he weren't locked in this steel cage of transportation so he could properly give you what you oh so clearly deserved.

"You're so fucking wet, i'd be shocked if everyone can't hear how much you're dripping right now." And you know he's right. As his fingers got more pleasingly and aggressively pleasurable, you could feel wetness continuing to run along your cunt. The faint noise of your arousal is insanely audible as four of his fingers begin furiously rubbing against your pussy with a flat hand. You'd fear everyone on the plane could hear it, that is, if you even bothered to care, because at this very moment, you couldn't care less. "Hear how good I make you feel?", Harry grits with his lips brushing your earlobe as his hand remains relentless, rubbing your clit back and forth with an insane amount of force that has you gripping the armrests of your seat. You chant a low hummed 'mmmm' sound over and over that has a pride-filled smile latching onto Harry's smirk. "'M gonna cum—oh, fuck", Your swear at the end comes out at a much louder volume as Harry dips one of his fingers inside of your pussy, which he has a hunch is the prettiest shade of pink he could ever fathom. Remaining true to his promise, his hand ceases all movement, instead hovering over your pussy that is still desperately clenching as it begs to be touched until it's devouring an explosive release. "No, no, no. I'm sorry", you say with a flushed face and hair that now sticks to your hairline. Harry wants to keep a stern face and show that he's disappointed in you, but the way you immediately apologize at the pause of his hand has him snickering into the crook of your neck. Severally amused by your desperation to come by the touch of his digits and palm. "If you're sorry, then stop doing it", he says through near clenched teeth, his mouth running along the skin of your neck with each word he says. You nod-frantic and begging. Harry decides he will allow that as an appropriate enough answer. Harshly, his hand comes down against your pussy three times in a gentle slap until his finger dips inside of you again, relentlessly fucking into you at an angle that has your hips stuttering and toes curling inside of your shoes. "Want another?"

"Obviously", you breathily reply and let out a whine that is quiet and approving according to Harry's standards. "Got a mouth on you, huh? Bet that mouth can do all sorts of things." Though he would usually prefer to drag this interaction out further and edge you until your legs were shaking and your clit was near numbness, he knew the close confines of the plan wouldn't allow him to tease you in the way he truly wanted, should either of you be tucked away in his flat and stripped entirely of clothing. Harry's second finger joins his first, twisting the combined digits even deeper up inside you, making you sit up a little straighter with tightly closed eyes as you grip the armrests until you're sure there are moon-shaped marks permanently sketched into the faux leather. Instinctually, you spread your legs wider, making Harry bite his lip as he looked down at you, utterly flushed and consumed. His fingers pump and pump and pump inside of you until eventually curling upwards, fingertips rubbing along the soft patch inside of you that has stars blurring underneath your closed eyes. "Make a mess on my fingers. C'mon." Harry's words are half demand and half groan as he speaks them into your hair that's lazily tousled around your face. You didn't think it was possible for the euphoric waves of pleasure to get any better, but then you feel his palm bumping into your clit with every upward thrust of his fingers inside you, making you grip even harder with your tooth on the skin of your finger as it, no doubt, peels layers of skin off your bottom lip. "Please don't stop", you beg, letting out silent gasps with an open mouth for him, and Harry keeps that promise, never slowing down or speeding up. Keeping him exactly where you need him. The time span is short between this teetering on the edge feeling and your orgasm punching you in the face. You knew you couldn't keep quiet even if your life depended on it - you didn't trust yourself. Instead, you pressed your palm to your mouth to create a barrier of sound as your hips desperately moved along with Harry's fingers and palm.

"Was that okay?" His voice breathed into the side of your head this time, eerily close to the shell of your ear. "Yeah. More than okay if I'm being honest", you chuckled, moving your gaze back up to his sultry pupils. The final straw in the interaction between you and this new acquaintance was his eyes grazing your face as if he were being fed by the way your nose sat on your face and the shape of your lips and eyes. His top teeth dug into his lower lip, as if he were fighting a temptation. Unluckily for both of you, a flight attendant seemed to be making the rounds as the lights slightly grew brighter and brighter, until they reached their default setting. You sat up straight, as did Harry. And then your time together seemed to morph into you ensuring your carry-on was filled with everything you'd packed in preparation, including that book you had good intentions of diving into, yet something, or rather someone, seemed to occupy that attention instead. It wasn't long until the plane had come to a pressured landing, thus enabling each of the riders to exit the plane efficiently with a bag in hand. "Hey." Your neck jerked up from your previous position of peering down at your phone at the sound of his voice. "It was uh-nice to meet you. Definitely a unique trip on my end." You let out a breathy chuckle through your nose and nodded. "For me as well, for sure. Thank you?" "You're welcome?", Harry pinched his eyes, mimicking your question-marked tone. You followed behind Harry through the slender aisle until your shoes met the rubber ground of the jetway. It was silent, but nothing uncomfortable as you walked in parallel with him until the insanely atrocious fluorescent lighting of the airport came closer and closer. "Maybe I'll see you in another life or something?" Harry looked at you as he placed his over-the-ear headphones on the top of his head, one ear already being covered by the ear cup. You felt only a smidge of disappointment that it didn't seem as though Harry would type his number in your phone or request yours, but what were the odds of anything other than what had already occurred happening between you both when you barely knew each other? "Yeah, we'll see. Safe travels," you waved him off, and as did he, as his back turned to you and walked with an easy-going swagger down the main hall of the airport. ______________ The cab to the hotel was fueled by dissociation at its absolute worst. You could hardly focus on anything, not even the gorgeous surroundings painted outside the window of the moving vehicle. Everything was a blur-and all because of this stranger on the plane.

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #hslot #fine line #harrys house #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

prompt by @whoopsieismelldaisies

"Kinda feeling an angsty, lengthy piece, where Harry is super stressed from jumping between meetings and calls. He’s pissed at the people he works with, more than usual, and when Y/N keeps occasionally talking to him, that frustration builds, until he kinda just snaps and tells her to shut the fuck up🥲 “God, I hate it when you can’t stop rambling!” Kind of vibes.

And he instantly goes “oh shit” mentally because he just yelled at her? His girl? Over something that he’s actually always found very endearing about her?"

tw: shouting, swearing ; word count: ~2.1k