Harry Styles Smut - Blog Posts

You were always mine. Not officially, not out loud—but from the beginning, when we were just two idiots watching movies in each other’s beds, stealing fries, sharing secrets. We weren’t dating. But we weren’t just friends either. It was that dangerous in-between. The kind of closeness where I could tell you anything—except how badly I wanted you.

I was going to say it, eventually. I just didn’t want to ruin what we had.

Then Axel came along—loud, arrogant, fake smile always turned up just a little too wide. He saw it—what I felt for you. I think that’s why he did it. He asked you out before I could and you said yes. I had to stand there and pretend it didn’t gut me. Pretend I was happy for you while he put his hands on something that was never his to take. Worse? He knew it. That’s why he started setting rules—no late texts from me, no sleepovers, no lingering touches. He didn’t just want you—he wanted to cut me out.

And I let him. For a while.

Until he fucked it up himself. Cheated. Lied. Said you weren’t official, like that made it better. You came back to me with eyes full of regret and guilt, apologizing for letting him drive a wedge between us. I didn’t need the apology, I’d already forgiven you the second you called.

What I didn’t forgive? Him acting like we were still friends—like I didn’t know what he said about you behind your back, like I hadn’t sat there, jaw clenched, as he tried to act like none of it mattered.

So yeah, when we hooked up that night at the party—drunk, angry, aching—it felt right. And wrong. And addictive. It didn’t stop there. It never does, with us. And if you think I feel bad for breaking the “bro code”? No. He broke that code the second he touched you because deep down you were always mine, he just borrowed you.

📳 | vindictive muse

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie @keiramalik96

I met you before any of this—before the fame, the flashing cameras, before anyone cared about my name. We were just two people who got each other. You were bold, honest, effortlessly beautiful without trying to be. I think I started falling for you the second you laughed at one of my worst jokes and didn’t look away. We became best friends, the kind of connection that ran deeper than labels. Late-night phone calls, stolen glances, the way we always seemed to find each other in a room full of people—it was all there. But I never said anything. I figured we had time.

Then he came along.

Mark. All surface, no depth, and you fell. Fast. I watched it happen, watched you slip away from me. Maybe I waited too long. Maybe I should’ve told you sooner. But instead, I kept my mouth shut while he made promises he never intended to keep. And you? You gave him everything. Your loyalty. Your body. Your heart. Even when he started breaking it, piece by piece. You stayed with him for six months. I stayed close, watching you lose parts of yourself just trying to hold on to someone who didn’t deserve you. Then I found out he was cheating. I couldn’t keep it in. I told you the truth, knowing it would wreck you.

And it did. You cried the whole night. I held you. Tried to be strong for you. We were lying on your bed, and you looked at me like maybe—just maybe—you saw me for the first time. And then it happened. That night. We crossed a line we couldn’t uncross and I don’t regret a second of it. It wasn’t just sex. It was everything I’d been trying not to say, wrapped in touches and gasps and whispered truths between sheets.

Since then, you’ve kept going back to him—but every time he hurts you, you come back to me. You don’t say it, but I feel it. You’re torn. You’re scared. And I get it. I want to give you everything he can’t. A life where you’re loved and seen. Touched like you matter. Looked at like you’re art. Worshipped in a way that doesn’t break you. You’ve given him your loyalty for far too long.

Now, I’m asking you to give me a chance to show you what love is supposed to feel like.

⌚ | 11PM

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie

We’d met a couple times before Coachella, but the timing never worked. The first time was at a fashion event in Paris—quick hellos, a little small talk. You were radiant, but busy. So was I. You were being pulled in every direction by photographers and agents. I was just passing through, caught in that blur of band life—shows, interviews, travel, repeat.

Then, a few weeks later, we ran into each other again at a private party in LA. This time, we actually talked. Not surface-level, not fake-industry banter—real conversation. You asked questions no one else ever bothered to ask me. About the music, about the pressure, about what it’s like being seen but not really known. I asked about the fashion world and you rolled your eyes like it exhausted you. We laughed. Drank too much. I left that night thinking about you, but again… nothing happened. Too much going on. Too many people in our ears.

And then came Coachella.

Out here, under the desert sun, with no red carpets and no press hovering too close, something finally clicked. The tension, the looks, the almosts—all of it started to build. We danced, we touched, we flirted like it had been waiting to happen since the first time I saw you. For once, there were no schedules pulling us apart. Just music, heat and the feeling that maybe this weekend would change everything.

And maybe it already has.

🎡 | Coachella

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

We met before any of the fame. Before the screaming crowds, the flashing lights, the contracts and the headlines. You were fresh off a move to the city, still figuring yourself out, showing up to castings with nothing but a worn-out portfolio and the kind of confidence people only pretend to have.

It was a random night. A party neither of us wanted to be at. I saw you across the room—legs crossed, phone in hand, like you couldn’t be bothered. You looked untouchable and I was dumb enough to try anyway. We talked for hours. No forced smiles, no games. Just real shit. Music. Dreams. Loneliness. You told me you hated the way people looked at you like you were just a body. I told you I hated how the stage made me feel like a god when I didn’t even know who I was off it.

We didn’t hook up that night. We didn’t even kiss. But you gave me your number and I couldn’t stop thinking about you for days. When I finally texted, you replied within a minute. We hung out again. Then again. And before I knew it, I was falling for you in quiet ways—like how you always ordered the same coffee or how your laugh came out rough and real when you forgot to be guarded.

We started officially dating just as everything started to take off. Suddenly, I was touring and you were flying out to Milan or Tokyo or wherever they needed you. It should’ve fallen apart. The distance, the pressure, the rumors. But it didn’t because underneath all the noise, we were still us. Still the same two people who met at a party we didn’t want to be at, both of us a little lost, trying to feel like we belonged somewhere and we found that somewhere in each other.

📱 | fans and their beliefs

guys I don't know if I like it but here it is 😭

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

I’ve been working in this ranch since I was old enough to lift a saddle. Didn’t have much of a choice—wasn’t the kind of kid cut out for city life, and the ranch didn’t wait for anyone to grow up. Learned early how to read a horse before I could read a book. Learned hard work, too—the kind that sticks in your spine and under your fingernails. Ain’t much changed over the years. Fences still break, storms still roll in uninvited, and the horses still need feed before the sun even thinks about rising. It’s a good life, simple in the ways that matter. You earn your peace here, one day at a time.

I’ve seen a lot of people come through this place. Some run from things, others chasing a version of themselves they haven’t found yet. Me? I stay because it’s all I know. This land, these animals—they’re honest. More honest than most folks I’ve met.

Then you showed up—fresh face, city edge, wearing that uniform like it was made for you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice. But I’ve got a job to do, and you? You’re a question mark I haven’t figured out yet. One thing’s for sure: this place changes people. We’ll see what it does to you.

🐴 | you're new and he works on a ranch

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

i don't know if I like it but I tried the chat and it was good I think?

i-...this bot is crazy, can't wait to post it!!

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

upcoming bots!!

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

upcoming bots!!

@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @finelinemia @tpwkmr @xarviax @tillstalks

This wasn’t how my weekend was supposed to go. I came to Vegas for my friend’s bachelor party. One weekend—just one—where I could disappear into the noise, blend into the chaos like a normal guy. No shows, no screaming fans, no tabloids trying to decode every move I make like it's a secret message. Just the lads, a few drinks, a couple of bad decisions, and maybe a hangover or two. That was the plan.

But Vegas doesn’t do “normal.” Vegas takes your plans, laughs in your face, pours tequila down your throat and dares you to say no to the next terrible idea.

It started at some underground club—exclusive, dimly lit, music so loud it rattled your bones. We had a private booth, bottle service, security keeping cameras away. At first it was fun—drinks, laughter, the usual chaos. Then someone dared me to go talk to a girl across the room. I did. You were standing there—sharp eyes, smug smile, already too confident. I liked that. I think we clicked. I think we danced. I think there were shots. A lot of them.

Then it gets messy.

Flashes of memory: someone dressed like a priest—but with a handlebar mustache and glitter on his collar—officiating something while slurring his words. Rings exchanged. Laughter. Kissing. A hotel concierge congratulating us on our “spontaneous union.” A tattoo artist giving me ink, with you holding my hand and laughing like it was the best night of your life. Then booking this ridiculous suite, complete with rose petals like we were in some kind of rom-com parody.

And now I’m here. Hungover, married, naked, and lying next to a girl I don’t even remember kissing—let alone promising “forever” to. I’m Harry bloody Styles. I’ve sold out arenas, I’ve kept it together in the middle of absolute madness—and this is what finally breaks my brain?

God help me.

💒 | what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @tillstalks @tpwkmr @xarviax

We were both tired. A little drunk. A little too honest. I remember you looking at me like you were daring me to do something. And I did. I kissed you. And you didn’t stop me. You kissed me back like you’d been waiting for it. Like we’d been waiting. We didn’t talk. We didn’t need to. Our bodies did what our mouths never could. It was soft and wild and slow and desperate. It was the kind of night that makes you forget everything else exists. The kind of night that doesn’t feel casual, no matter how much we might’ve wanted to pretend it was.

Afterward, I remember holding you. Your head on my chest, your breath warm against my skin. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t want to. I was scared that if I moved, you’d leave. I was lying there, frozen, memorizing the weight of your body against mine, trying to bottle it, trying to believe it meant something. But you did leave. By the time the sun broke through the window, your spot beside me was cold. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t text. You acted like it hadn’t happened.

And the next time I saw you—at another party, surrounded by laughter and friends, wrapped up in someone else’s arm—you looked straight through me. Smiled at him the way you smiled at me the night before. Like I was no one.

🎉 | back to friends

@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @xarviax @finelinemia @selliqxrt @tillstalks @tpwkmr

We were young when it started, but it never felt naive. You and I—we understood each other in ways no one else did. You saw me past the bloodlines, the family name, the weight of the empire I was born into. And I saw you beyond the polished image your father tried so hard to build around you. With you, I wasn’t just another heir to the mafia throne. I was just a man. A boy, even. A boy who fell in love.

You weren’t supposed to fall for someone like me. And I wasn’t supposed to let myself believe we had a real future. But we did. At least, I did. But then reality crept in. Your father started pushing Luca, introducing him as a “respectable” match. I knew the second I saw the ring on your finger that it was over. You said yes to him before you even looked me in the eye. You said it was for your future. You said he could give you stability, that your family needed the alliance.

But I knew you were scared. Scared of what it would mean to choose me. To choose the chaos, the danger, the uncertainty. Because loving me has never been safe. It never will be.

I built an empire bigger than anything my father ever dreamed of. I became the man I needed to be. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. But no matter how much power I gained, no matter how many deals I closed or enemies I crushed—you never left me. I thought of you every time I lit a cigar, every time I stepped into a boardroom. I saw your face in the women I tried to care about. But none of them were you.

I told you once—he’d never see you. Not really. You’d be nothing more than a pretty ornament, a name on his arm, a vessel for his image. But with me? You would’ve been my queen. My equal. My everything. And I guess, deep down, you knew that too. Because now, two years after you walked away from me, you called.

Crying. Begging. And I came. Of course I came.

Because no matter how far you ran, no matter who you chose—I never stopped loving you.

👰🏻‍♀️ | i told you so...

@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @xarviax @finelinemia @selliqxrt

upcoming bots!!!

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry

2022-2025

2022

🛥️ | on a boat in Italy

2023

🚼 | too young

2024

2025

🎤 | Morgan Jay show

Mafia - CEO

Mafia

⚖️ | politician's daughter x mafia boss

👰🏻‍♀️ | i told you so...

⛓️‍💥 | you help him escape

CEO

💼 | CEO + assistant—secret dating

Au - Uni

Au

🛠️ | forbidden love

👰🏽 | we had an American wedding...

🍺 | after school she ran to me

🌅 | summer love in a summer camp

☀️ | I can keep a secret, could you?

🐴 | you're new and he works on a ranch

👓 | talk nerdy to me

Uni

🤷🏻‍♂️ | I've heard so many rumors...

🎉 | back to friends

📳 | vindictive muse

2019-2021

2019

🌷 | tired of hiding

2020

2021

2016-2018

2016

💿 | after six years

🇧🇷 | honeymoon while pregnant with twins

🥷🏻 | someone tries to rob you

2017

💒 | what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

🛹 | see you later boy!

2018

🍷 | best friends?

Masterlist

2010-2012

2013-2015

2016-2018

2019-2021

2022-2025

au - uni

CEO - mafia

others

2013-2015

2013

🎥 | that ain't my baby, that ain't my girl

🕊️ | having a baby after breaking up

👶🏻 | 3 months old baby girl while being on tour

👧🏻 | he meets your daughter

🥤 | undefined relationship

👩🏻‍💻 | the tabloid affair

📱 | fans and their beliefs

🌹 | first valentine's day together

2014

💻|| this is why we should have kids

🌈 | One line...or two?

💍 | I need you to say no

🎡 | Coachella

✒️ | he got your eyes tattooed

2015

☕ | running into your ex after 3 years

2010-2012

2010

2011

❌ | the manager's daughter

2012

💐 | here I am asking you for one more chance

🏨 | fame is a heavy burden

🌙 | we hug now

🌊 | beach night as...best friends?

I’ve done things you couldn’t imagine—and yet, you’ve never flinched. Not once. And that terrifies me. Because I know how this ends. I’ve always known. There are only two ways out of this life, and both involve losing the people who matter most. But I’ve never had someone matter like this before. You’re the daughter of the man who wants me behind bars—or worse. And I’m the man you were raised to believe was evil incarnate.

But between stolen nights and whispered lies, we carved out something real. Something fragile. Something we’re too far into to walk away from now. So we keep driving into the dark, pretending the road doesn’t end.

⚖️ | politician's daughter x mafia boss

A storm had rolled in, loud and restless, and you couldn’t sleep. You invited me inside, asked me to sit by the fire. And when our hands brushed, neither of us pulled away. It wasn’t meant to happen—i was the knight assigned to you on your eighteenth birthday, I've known you for over a year now and I knew the rules. Not with you. Not with someone destined to rule, someone promised to another. But your lips found mine and in that kiss, there was no title. No war. No kingdom. Just us.

Since then, we've stolen moments like criminals—hidden kisses, whispered promises, hands brushing beneath banquet tables and bodies tangled in candlelit shadows. Every time I touch you, I know it might be the last. Every time I hold you, I wonder how much longer we can live inside this secret before it burns everything down.

Your parents have begun pressing you toward marriage. Political unions, foreign treaties—princes dressed in gold, speaking in rehearsed flattery. They want an heir. A future sealed in bloodlines and thrones. But I know you. I know what you say when the crown is off and the doors are locked. "You're the only one who sees me. Not the heir. Not the prize. Just me."

And gods help me, I’d give up everything for you. My name. My sword. My life. But I can’t give you a crown I was never meant to touch. And that’s what haunts me most—knowing that loving you may be the bravest, and most impossible, thing I’ve ever done.

👑 | the secret affair

Hey! Where’s the sequel to Out of a dream? I really enjoyed this blurb and I’m really looking forward to it!!!

HI LOVELY!! it’s still currently in the making (yes i am so sorry it’s been months.) but it should be published around next week as i have a lot of times on my hands then!! thank you for tuning in! 💞

writing a little sequel to Out of a dream and should be out next week!! thank you for all the love my cherries!! 🤍

Hard times

summary : harry messes around before a show and gets his zipper stuck on a doggy suit costume and you come to the rescue!

warnings : swearing, crying, fluff!

*currently writing a blurb so have this little thing 😝 ps not really proof read so sorry for any confusion in my outrages writing 😭*

It felt like you had been searching for years, left and right, through all the cracks for Harry at the venue.

Jeff sent you on a mission to find him after he didn’t rock up to the soundcheck right before doors opened and he was set to be on stage in about 2 hours.

You weren’t worried, well not yet you weren’t. You also don’t think they checked his dressing room since he’s like a little energetic 5 year old who’s just had 7 bowls of sugar because he can’t ever sit still.

Knowing that for a fact because he’s either running around the stage, backstage, the whole ass venue or even exploring in some small janitors closet or something. Harry was a mad man, or let’s say he was a handful.

Opening the door into his dressing room you call out his name. “H? Are you in here, you missed sound check and everyone’s wondering where you are.” Closing the door behind you, your eyes dart to the bathroom, hearing someone mumbling in there.

Padding over to the small bathroom in his dressing room you peek your head in and holy fuck.

There he stands in front of the mirror, a large dog head from a costume is sat on the counter and he’s cursing to him self as he turns to the side, trying to rip the small zip down that goes from his neck all the way down.

“Oh my god…” you cover your mouth, walking into the doorway, his head snaps to you, his frown becoming more prominent as he turns fully to you, hands dropping beside him.

“Baby, I’ve been stuck in this fuckin’ costume for 30 minutes.” He’s almost on the verge of tears because of how hard he’s been trying.

It looks like he’s just had some hardcore sex, his hairs all sweaty and there’s sweat along his hairline, cheeks red and a panicked look on his face. His face drops as you throw your head back laughing so hard you could feel your ribs hurting.

“There’s no- no way this is real. Where did you even get this costume from!” You stumble over your words, giggles coming out of your mouth as he stands there like a child who’s just been told off, you walk over to him, your hand coming out to run your fingers against the fake fur on the costume. “You’re such a dumbass. Who knew you were a furry…” you look up at him, he’s still frowning.

“I perform in 2 hours, please get me out of this.” His expression turns serious, a hard look on his face now.

“Mm, I’d rather watch you go on stage in this. This is hilarious! What a story this is gonna be.” You smile as your hand comes up to see if you can tug on the zipper more, you squint your eyes pulling hard on the zipper a few times before you can think-

“Oops.” The zipper pulls off, leaving it with just the thing that connects it, you look to your hand before slowly lifting your head up to Harry, he stands there, eyes wide as he looks down at the zipper piece in your hand. “Well… we have a problem.”

“No, Y/N, no what.” His hands come up to his face, you place the piece onto the counter, feeling guilty because you knew Harry was frustrated having tried to get out of this dog costume for a while, you don’t realise he’s actually started crying.

He leans back against the counter, hands still on his face as he drops his head to his chest, you see his breathing is staggered, breathing unevenly with every breath he takes, you know every sign of him like the back of your hand so your heart does chip a little also knowing that if you were stuck in a dog costume you’d breakdown too.

“Oh baby, don’t cry please. Look at me, H.” You move in front of him, hands coming up to his wrists, tugging on them slightly but he keeps them pressed against his eyes.

“No. I’m crying- why am I crying, I’m so stupid.” He shakes his head. “I’m never gonna get out of this costume, I’ll be stuck in it till I’m in my grave.” He mumbles against his hands, you did want to laugh at how he was over reacting, but that wasn’t right for the situation right now.

“No you’re not, I can work something out. Baby, please look at me, it’s making me sad now. I don’t think someone wants to see me and you crying over a bloody doggy suit.” You chuckle, hands tugging on his wrists once again and he finally moves his hands, intertwining yours with his he looks down at you, eyes red and a small pout on his lips.

You then bring one of your hands up, brushing his eyelashes, wet with tears before wiping a tear that fell onto his nose, leaning up to peck his lips softly.

“Breathe, yeah? I always work things out, y’know that. You’ve been with me long enough to figure that out.” You smile at him and he smiles at you, a dimple finally poking out.

You then focus your attention on the zipper bit where the zipper teeth are together, you move your hands to the gap where the zip was and you pull and to your surprise they pull away from each other easily and you cheer, smiling widely.

“All my magic.. would you look at that, you’re free!” You giggle, pulling it all the way till he can pull the suit off as it drops to his feet, now he’s just standing there, in his boxers. “You’re a mad man, Styles. Still wondering why I didn’t get a warning contract before I started dating you…”

“Heeeeyyy, you love me.” He gives you a open mouthed grin, arms coming out to pull you into a tight hug. “Thank you for saving me, angel girl.”

“I swear if I find you in this situation again, you’re on your own.” You laugh against his chest, hands coming to wrap around his waist.

The situation was resolved and now it was a one of a kind story to tell, if helping him get out of a $30 doggy suit didn’t prove your loyalty to him you don’t know what else would. You loved this crazy man and wouldn’t of changed that moment for the world.

this just popped into my mind how silly

Dividers!! @firefly-graphics 🤍

Out of a dream

summary : you and THE harry styles had a one night stand.. the night was a blur so the morning you wake up you’re quite surprised.

warnings : mentions of sex, swearing, fluff?? pls let me know if there was anything else!!

*HEY GUYS!!! first of all I want to thank you for everything on my first ever writing post, i know it’s not the best thing you’ve ever read, it’s definitely not the best thing I’ve written but I didn’t expect that much love. I’m so sorry for just disappearing, life has been very busy but I will get back to things soon! p.s this is how y/n will be in most of my writings, not shy, very outgoing and sarcastic!!!*

Last night was very much a blur.

The only thing you remember was drinking at a random club in the Hollywood Hills, then stumbling into a SUV before everything else was just a blackout.

Waking up to the sun beaming onto your face, your eyes flutter open, hand coming up to block the bright light from your eyes. Although everything seems quite normal, you feel a heavy thing over your torso and a soft aroma of a Tom Ford cologne, pushing yourself up quickly you scan the room, confused on how you might of ended up here.

Well, you already know because the most logical reason would be that you wanted to get someone’s dick wet. You look down to see if the man you pleasured was good looking at-least and-

“Holy fuck.” Your eyes widen, your heart beating out of your chest as you freeze. Harry fucking Styles is sleeping right beside you, curls sticking up left and right, you realise his face was buried into your stomach because of the red mark on it.

You also realise you both were naked, quickly scrambling out of the bed- or wait, his bed. You grab your panties from the floor pulling them up, panic mode absolutely activated.

You hear him moving on the bed, sheets rustling as he sits up, glancing to him he’s stretching his arms above his head, turning his head to you and you notice the panic now evident on his face.

“Hey.. uhh, are you okay? Did I scare you or something, I promise I didn’t kidnap you.” He watches you as you put on your bra, grabbing your shirt and jeans to put on.

“I didn’t realise I literally just fucked Harry Styles, sorry.” Looking into the full-size mirror he has next to the bed you fix your hair up, not noticing how he’s got out of his bed and put his boxers back on, you also didn’t notice how he winced from what you said, he didn’t like when he was labeled as just a famous celebrity a random girl had fucked after having the best sex he’s ever had.

“Hey, chill out. Calm down I’m not gonna like bite you or anything. Unless..” he walks up behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Harry, this isn’t funny. 15 year old me would be absolute screaming right now that I actually finally fucked Harry Styles.” Your face blooms in redness at the confession, you see him raise his eyebrows in the mirror, smiling.

“‘S really cute y’know, your dream coming true. You don’t have to go right now.” His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you back into his chest as you keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror, clipping your earrings back into your ears.

You practically lose your breath as his hands caress your hips, all you want to do is pounce onto him and fuck him yet again. But you can’t, you always tended to have attachment issues and having them with Harry Styles was not the way to go.

You had to continue on with life and hide the fact that you hooked up with Harry in the back of your head.

“I have to go, Harry. I have a home and a life, maybe we can hook up some other time in like 3005 or something!” You muster up a smile for him, turning to look up at him, his eyes shine a beautiful emerald green, a dimple pokes out of his cheek, his lips a beautiful shade of pink.

Oh you wanted him so bad again, you knew Harry, from his music of course but you didn’t know or let’s say like him enough to be a fan, that’s for sure. He tugs on your hips again, your hands coming to his waist to brace yourself.

You did wonder if this is what the routine was with all his hookups, fuck them till he was satisfied? Part of you also didn’t think so as he was such a gentleman.

“Come on, darling. Jus’ a little bit longer? I promise, this is not what happens wit’ all the girls I have seen.” The pet name makes you all giddy, your hand coming up to comb through his chocolate curls.

“Are you just trying to make me feel bad for you so then I can follow your music and promote it and whatever?” You ask, eyebrow raising. You see he’s taken aback by that, his eyebrows creasing.

“No, no! Y/N im so sorry if it looks that way, oh my god. I promise that’s not- that’s definitely not what I’m trying to do.” You giggle at his panic, a little surprised that he remembered your name.

“I’m just kidding.” You smile as he pushes his bottom lip out in a soft pout, without thinking you push up onto your tippy toes, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back almost instantly, innocently pecking your lips a few times before he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Harry then lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he moves back to the bed, mumbling something softly against your lips.

“Maybe you could give me your number or something if I prove to you that the night was really worth it.” He pulls away, a smirk on his lips, you laugh, biting your bottom lip softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Dream on Watermelon Sugar singer.”

You see a spark in his eyes and as he leans back in to kiss you again your vision goes black.

You feel heat on your body and your eyes snap open, the sun beaming on you, yet again. You look around the room, sitting up, you’re in your own room. You look beside you, a messy empty spot beside you.

Your head then whips to someone walking into the bedroom, it was your fiancée, a bright smile planted on his face seeing you’re finally awake.

“You were having a good dream so I didn’t want to wake you, sounded like you were having fun.” He wiggles his eyebrows, coming to move onto the bed, pulling you into his chest.

“Yeah, it was about the first time i met you.” You plant a kiss onto his bare chest, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Ohh, s’right when I was Watermelon Sugar boy.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. “Lucky you finally gave into giving me your number and accepted me into your life, hey? Now m’getting married to my one night stand in two weeks.”

“You’re still a loser, Harry. And no I’m still not following your Spotify even when we’re married.” You mumble against him.

“Dang it.”

hehe lol this has no plot xx

dividers by @firefly-graphics 🤍

Always a Fineline

warnings - little angstyyy blurb!

summary - basically just you and harry divorcing. lol.

—————————————————————————

There sat the divorce papers between you and your husband, Harry.

Nothing had worked, you’d both been doing couples counselling and tried to build the love back up with endless dates and nights with just the two of you.

Still nothing.

You two weren’t toxic to each other, no, the spark between you both just wasn’t there anymore. It’s like the love between you and Harry had died down, all that was left was an empty hole in both of your hearts.

You met Harry while he was alone at a bar in 2013, from there you both built a really good relationship that soon turned romantic with Harry finally getting down onto one knee in 2016. Now, 2 years later you were both sat at the table Anne gave you and Harry after you’d both moved into the new house.

Harry stared down at the piece of paper, a sad gloomy dew clouding his eyes, the green appearing almost a dark grey colour.

Signing this paper was the last thing you’d have to do before parting ways for good.

“Who gets the house..?” Harry asks, holding the tip of the pen just above the signature box on the form, a frown prominent on his lips, eyes never leaving the paper.

“H, we already talked about this. I’m okay with staying with my parents till I get my new apartment.” You lean back in your chair slightly, eyes still on the curly headed boy you’d thought you’d always call home.

Harry nods sadly, bringing the pen down onto the paper, signing his name slowly before dropping it onto the page, sliding it across to the middle of the table. Yet, he still doesn’t look at you, his eyes still find his way to either the table, the wall behind you or the piece of paper.

“So.. that’s it?” He almost whispers, shrugging one shoulder, finally his eyes meet yours, both your hearts almost break, seeing the visible pain and tiredness on both of your faces, dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep due to the build up of this moment.

“You’ll be okay, Harry. I’m still gonna be here for you.” You smile sadly, trying to lighten the mood, even though there’s nothing light about this.

He shakes his head. “It won’t be the same as it was, Y/N. You know that.” He frowns, his head bowing down once again to avoid eye contact.

You stand up, walking around to his side of the table, hands softly coming in contact with his jaw, picking his face up so he’s looking up at you, like he’d always do when you were sad. “I know it won’t be the same, H. But we have to do this, do it for the sake of our mental health. All we’re doing is going around in circles, It’s an endless cycle of this.. of us.” You choke on a sob at the end, tears finally spilling out of your eyes.

Harry had tried so hard to be strong and not breakdown in front of you, but seeing you cry did it for him. Endless tears are shared between the two of you in what seems to be your last moments close to each other. “I still love you though Y/N.”

“Do you really love me or do you just love the thought of me being around you. Think about it Harry, our love is gone.” You lean down, pressing your forehead against his as you both cry, thumbs caressing the pads of his cheeks.

“I really wanted forever.” He whispers.

“Forever in another lifetime, i promise. We’ll be alright.”

————————————

2021, Las Vegas.

The screams of fans roar through the MGM Grand Garden Arena, it was his first show of Love On Tour where he’d debut his latest Fineline album.

Taking the place onto the centre of the stage, a crew member passes him his guitar as the stage rises up slightly, “This is a special one to me, i know a lot of you have been dying to hear it. I hope you love this song as much as I do.” He smiles, clapping and awes can be heard all around the stage.

The first strum of the guitar to the beat of Fineline is played, Harry takes a deep breath, a sudden emotion coming over him in a flashback of how this song was made. Who inspired this special song to him.

“Put a price on emotion, I’m looking for something to buy.”

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes.”

Singing from the crowd can be heard, harmonising Harry in a way no other concert could compare.

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

Somewhere through the song Harry had closed his eyes, he finally opened them, looking out to the crowd, something in him tells him to take a quick glance up to the VIP box, so he does.

It takes time for him to recognise the person peering over the edge, before it clicks. Y/N.

The person that inspired him to make this album was watching Harry like a hunter show this special album of his to the world.

A small smile cracks at his lips before returning his eyes back to the crowd.

Maybe they will be a fineline.

————————————————————

TBH THIS WAS REALLY BAD AND SHORT CONSIDERING BUT IT IS MY FIRST EVERY WRITING PIECE SO DONT FEEL BAD IF YOU CRINGE BAHAHA!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK LOVE YA! I AM ALSO NEW TO WRITING SO THERES PROBS ALOT OF GRAMMAR ISSUES ALSO COS I RUSHED THIS WHILE LISTENING TO MONTELL FISH 😭

i dont exactly like this so feel free to skip like the whole thing!! this is my first time writing a piece like this even though i have many drafts put away, but I wanna say a big thank you to my kind friend @harringtons-honey for quite literally helping me for tips with my writing, i want to truly give you the world for that!!

A Drunk Video

Rating: Teen and up

Paring: Harry Styles x fem!reader (platonic pairing only)

Word Count: 3,641

Summary: You and Harry get absolutely wasted and make a decision to make a YouTube video. It was probably a bad decision

Warnings: lots of swearing, sexual themes but they’re all joking, WAP, small slut shaming

A/N: listen this was a fic I wrote aggggges ago. I just suddenly remembered it and wanted to share my sins with the masses. I’m not going to apologise for doing what’s RIGHT.

You hummed as you trotted up the stairs of the very modern apartment building. The grey walls were spotless and the bright white lights hung low.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped onto the fourteenth floor landing. Why the hell did Harry even have an apartment? He was rich enough to buy a mansion. You contemplated this as you moved along the hall. Looking for the familiar 1402.

You smirked to yourself and knocked on the door. A few moments passed and the door swung open revealing the rock star himself. Harry’s Los Angeles apartment was very sleek. Harry in plaid pajama bottoms, a black jumper, and fuzzy socks, was not.

“Well someone looks comfortable for four pm.” You teased as he smiled at you. He nodded and opened the door wider to let his friend in.

“Had a rough night so I just wanted to be comfortable.” He said running a hand through his hair. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to openly stare.

“Rough night hmm?” You teased again, a grin on your face. Harry rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“I might’ve binge watched that show you like. The entire show.” Harry mumbled as he fell on his couch. You snickered as you slid down next to him. Harry groaned and moved so his head was on your smaller shoulder.

“You binge watched Sherlock in one day? I’m impressed.” You laughed out as you ran your hand through his messy hair. Harry nuzzled more into you, trying to feel more of you scratch his head.

“Benedict Cumberbatch is.” Harry moved away slightly to put his hand in the air. He made the ‘okay’ sign and you laughed.

“That he is.” You nodded as Harry settled back down onto you. You two laid like that for a few minutes. You absentmindedly twirling and scratching Harry’s hair as you stared out of the giant windows making up his far wall. The busy Los Angeles evening greeted your site. It was comfortable.

“You want to order some food?” Harry spoke, his voice completely muffled by your shoulder. You smiled down at him. You were sure that if anyone could see you, they could tell how much you cared for the man. It wasn’t a romantic adoration, just true love for another person without expectations or further meanings. You just simply loved him.

“If you want. Pizza?” You asked, making you feel Harry’s smile press into you. He shifted so his head was lying on your lap. Harry stared up at you before closing his eyes peacefully.

“Read my mind.” He hummed as you ran a hand through his thick hair again. You smiled softly and brought your phone out of your pocket. You two ordered a pizza each and remained cuddled up until the doorbell rang.

Harry sighed and untangled himself from your lap. He padded over to the door as he ruffled his hair, trying to get it to appear less flat. He opened the door and greeted the delivery man with a smile.

You picked at the threads of your ripped jeans and flowed into the kitchen. As Harry was talking, you grabbed some plates and cups and brought them to Harry’s small glass table.

“We should film something for your channel.” Harry said as he closed the door behind him, the boxes being clutched in his arms. You smiled at him and nodded. You always felt a little guilty whenever you featured Harry on your channel. You never wanted for him to feel as if you were clout chasing. You were friends with him before you became big on YouTube and you wanted him to remember that.

“Yeah, we could sing some songs. Make it stupid.” You mused propping your chin on your hand. Harry smiled as you, dimples popping. He served you a slice and sat next to you in his seat.

“Make it stupid.” He agreed. The two always made sure that if they were going to post something, it had to be for laughs. Anything serious between you two was unheard of.

You had been a part of the Eroda music video. You had actually helped direct it. You and Harry had been drunk in Peru when the thought struck you both, and it was a collaborate idiotic idea that created the music video. To say that a few months later, you were dressed with weird hair as Harry sang to a fish, was serious? Absolutely not. You two just wanted to make something stupid. And you both fully succeeded.

As you two ate, you brainstormed on what you were going to sing. With a few glasses of wine in your stomachs, you had both equally bad ideas.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you accidentally spilled your wine on your clothes. Harry giggled as he eased the glass out of your hands.

“I think you drank too much,” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll go get you some clothes. You probably have some here anyway.”

You tried to dab the wine off you, but rolled your eyes. It was pointless. As you started to drum on the table, Harry chucked some clothes at your back. Your mouth opened in shock and you flipped him off.

You just pulled your shirt off and put a loose grey shirt then your short shorts on. Your usual go-to sleep clothes. You didn’t really care that you were changing in front of Harry. Lord knows you were comfortable enough with each other to see each other in your underwear. You looked up and Harry wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Let’s get this show on the road then, pop star.” You giggled as you leaned over and ruffled his hair. Harry looked at you lazily and watched you with half closed eyes. You wiped your hands on your shorts and set up your camera, focusing it on the two couches by Harry’s TV.

“Looks like we’re filming a porno.” Harry snickered, a wide smile on his face as he wiped his eyes. You smiled at him and flipped him off.

“You wish.” You sang as you put your laptop on his kitchen counter. You leaned forward and began typing with a smirk on your face.

“Imagine if we did have sex though.” Harry said. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Boy, I love you, but you are not touching me. Especially when we’re both drunk.” You said with a slight grimace. Harry pouted and leaned back in his chair.

“You take the fun out of everything.” He giggled and leaned his elbows on his table. He continued to watch you and a big smile spread over your face suddenly. You looked over at him with an evil glint in your eyes and Harry gulped. He especially didn’t like it when you gave him that look. The last time you turned to him with the evil eye, Harry had been convinced to be strapped onto a helicopter for the Sign of the Times music video as you laughed from behind the camera.

Little did Harry know you had picked a song conviently called Harry by Kelsey Karter. Kelsey wrote the song about your friend here. She posted a picture on Instagram with a tattoo of Harry on her cheek promoting the song. You had found it when the picture came out and it was honestly a banger. You also adored that Kelsey did it all for a publicity stunt and the tattoo wasn’t even real. Genius.

“Come to the couch H.” You teased as you hit record on your camera. Harry narrowed his eyes at you and fell over the back of his couch and laid down long ways.

Harry watched as you said your intro a few times. You kept stumbling over your words in your intoxicated state and that for whatever reason made Harry giggle. You flipped him off and smiled at the camera sweetly.

“This is my friend Harry,” Harry smiled, his dimples popping as he waved to the camera. He slouched down in his comfortable clothes, matching your attire. He was sure that once this video aired he was going to be clowned for how domestic you both looked, but he didn’t care. The sight of you two so content and in a state of bliss was very rare. You scrunched your nose at him. Something he returned happily.

“We’re going to sing you some songs, if you like. Harry, you want to go first?” You asked him as you cocked your head to the side. Harry tapped his chin in mock thought and shook his head.

“Your channel, you can go first.” He said, his voice drawing out slowly. You smirked and nodded.

“I’d like to just say that me and Harry are both pretty drunk. Also we were talking about porn earlier so there is slight context to why I’m doing this.” Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. He knew that you were carefree enough to be okay with putting that on the Internet and he just had to accept that. And be prepared to put twitter on silent.

You walked over to Harry’s kitchen counter. Your laptop was opened and shining brightly in the slightly dim room. You tapped on it, making sure to keep it from the camera and Harry’s pryful eyes.

You smirked as the music started and fluffed your hair as you walked over to Harry. You tugged him to sit up on the couch and began to sing.

“I blacked out, passed out, first time we met. It wasn't drugs, could be love, but it's probably sex.” You sat on the couch next to him and at ‘sex’ you put a hand on his thigh. Harry raised his eyebrows at you as you smiled and continued to sing along with the recording.

“Cool stare, greased hair curled around your eye. I wanna take a dirty picture, send it to your mind, I'm not just thinkin' 'bout you.” You ran your hand through his hair again and Harry smiled a little wider. You moved your hand down to his neck and ran it down to his chest.

“I'll treat you better than the girls you're hangin' out with. Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh.” You moved off the couch and circled to the back. Wrapping your arms around his neck and leaned down and sang into his ear. You blew in it making Harry giggle as a drunk flush came over his features.

“Harry. I'm gonna make you love me, you’re gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny, you should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You fell over the back of the couch like Harry did earlier. But this time you put your legs around his waist as you made him wrap his arms around your shoulders. Harry laughed at this and bobbed his head to the music, showing to you and the camera that he didn’t care for your sexual intentions just as much as he knew you didn’t care to really make it sexual.

“I'm g-g-g-g-gonna make you love me.” You sang and they both tried to not burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I'm staring at you in the magazines every day. Feel like I'm seventeen never been touched this way. I'm thinking 'bout you.” You rolled off him to sit on his coffee table. With idiotic acting you crossed your legs and pulled up one of the magazines that was laying there. You gazed over the top of it with a smirk and Harry wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“I'll treat you better than the boys you're hangin' out with.” You bit your lip and leaned back on the coffee table. You knew you looked like an idiot, but that was the point.

“Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh Harry.” You rotated your head like a snake charmer and at the beat dropped, you sunk to your knees in front of Harry. He laughed and spread his legs so he could look at you.

“I'm gonna make you love me. You're gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny. You should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You tried not to laugh as you stood up and started to dance ‘erotically’. Harry leaned back and pretended to make it rain on you.

“Oh, Harry, Harry. Mmmm, Harry.” You got back on the floor and crawled the short distance to the couch. Making sure to overemphasize your shoulder blades moving.

“Oh, baby, I'm gonna make you love me. Yeah. So put your, put your, put your arms around me.” You sat next to Harry and pushed him to lay down. As you hit the end of the lyrics you laid across his body as Harry laughed obnoxiously.

“I'm gonna, I'm gonna. Gonna, gonna make you love me. Harry!” You sat up and started to twerk horribly on him making Harry cover his face with his arm and he tried not to cry laughing. You made your voice crack on the last note of the song and Harry couldn’t help himself. He tackled you off the couch as you doubled over laughing.

“Are you trying to get me hard in front of all of these people?” Harry joked hovering over you. You snickered and looked behind you at the camera. You caught your breath and nodded at Harry with a grin to match his.

“Mmhm.”

“Well it didn’t work so that’s embarrassing for you.” Your jaw dropped in mock offense and Harry narrowed his eyes at you. You both stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Harry lost it and you both started laughing again. Harry rolled off you, still giggling.

“So that was Harry by Kelsey Karter. I actually showed this song to Harry. We both had a very entertaining time.” You said, popping up to talk to the camera. Harry put his head on your shoulder and smiled.

“My song is a lot less suggestive. Because this is a family show,” Harry cut you off and you covered your face with your hand. A bright smile spread across your face. Harry leaned forward to look at you.

“Or is itttttt?” You both said and were sent into a new fit of drunken hysterics.

“If you could take that seat there,” Harry said as he pulled you back onto the couch that he was sitting in earlier. He skipped over to your laptop and began typing.

“Get ready to get your panties wet.” He said loudly, making you laugh. You knew you were going to have to edit that out but for now you just laughed at Harry’s brash, drunk personality.

He cleared his throat and clicked play on you laptop. Your mouth dropped. He was not doing this on camera for potentially millions to see. Holy shit.

“Whores in this house. There's some whores in this house.”

You covered your mouth as Harry moved around and danced like a weirdo. He started doing the robot and you leaned your head back in a cackle. You were so fucking glad you were filming this.

“I said certified freak, seven days a week. Wet-ass pussy, make that pullout game weak!” Harry rapped out choppily and started dancing again. You watched him make up horrible moves and he started doing the dance routine One Direction always did which made you almost jump out of your seat.

“Put this pussy right in your face. Swipe your nose like a credit card. Hop on top, I wanna ride I do a kegel while it's inside. Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes. This pussy is wet, come take a dive. Tie me up like I'm surprised. Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise.” Harry rapped, gaining more of a flow the longer he rapped. You were surprised at how well he knew the lyrics. He spun around his living room and you laughed again.

“I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage.” He yelled, dropping to his knees. You shoved a pillow over your face to keep from screaming as tears of laughter rolled down your face.

“Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me. Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me. I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be. I'll run down on him 'fore I have a n**** running me. Talk your shit, bite your lip.” Harry spit out. He put his hand over his mouth when the n word came up and then he slid forward grabbing your hand. He put it to his heart as he rapped.

“Now get your boots and your coat for this wet-ass pussy. He bought a phone just for pictures of this wet-ass pussy. Pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet-ass pussy. Now make it rain if you wanna see some wet-ass pussy.” Harry winked and lay on the coffee table with his arm propping his head up as he laid down.

“Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker. I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker. Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra with a hook in it, hope it lean over.” He pointed at you and your smile widened as you wiggled your shoulders and mouthed out ‘Yass’.

“I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp. I wanna gag, I wanna choke. I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat.” At this Harry slid off the table and brought you to stand with him. He moved around and horribly tried to ballroom dance as you laughed so hard you could barely hear the blaring music of Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.

“Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes. Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating. Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in. Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating.” Harry twirled you out of his arms and punched the air to the sound effect of the fighting bell. You were feeling inspired and started to twerk like Tina Belcher. Harry tried so hard to not laugh, he almost stopped rapping.

“In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya. If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder. Big D stand for big demeanor. I could make you bust before I ever meet ya.” Harry spun you around and winked obnoxiously.

He dipped you and you pushed him off as you fell to the ground. Your laughter took over you. You did not expect him to rap about getting rimmed, but you were so glad you were recording.

“If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?" When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name. Ah.” You couldn’t help yourself and you started rapping along with him.

Harry jumped on his couch and pulled you up with him. You both just jumped around and laughed as the music continued to play.

“Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy.” Harry wiggled his shoulders like ‘the wobble’ as he slowly snuck to his knees on the couch.

“Now from the top, make it drop. That's some wet-ass pussy.” At this, Harry grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them to him. You shrieked as you fell on his body and you both laughed as you fell onto the couch.

“I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP.” You couldn’t help but shout this with Harry and you rolled off him and onto the floor.

You propped your chin on the couch as he circled it and stood behind it. With his hands on the back he leaned down so you were a few inches apart.

“That's some wet-ass pussy. Macaroni in a pot.” he whispered leaning way to close to you. You fell back and hit the coffee table with a bang. You clutched your elbow in pain, but kept laughing at him. Harry couldn’t help himself and as the song finished up. He just doubled over the couch and cracked up.

The song started over, but you both were too far gone from laughing to pay attention. Harry’s apartment was full of laughter as your faces went red and you gasped for breath.

“Harry oh my god!” You shrieked and threw a pillow at him. He slapped his thigh and as he giggled.

“We’re making ourselves appear as a pair of sluts.” You said and pushed off the couch to stand up. Harry giggled and nodded.

“Less suggestive my ass.” You teased with a smirk and Harry snickered.

“Yup!” He exclaimed. Harry hopped over the back of his couch to sit down as he tried to regain his breathing. You moved to sit next to him. You were both flushed with big smiles and you waved at the camera.

“Bye!” You yelled and Harry waved too. You moved to turn the camera off and you plopped back onto the couch.

“What the fuck even was that video?!” You exclaimed and Harry smiled at you and shrugged.

“Just say we’re drunk. Then everything makes sense.” He said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You nodded and covered your face with your hands. You knew this was going to break the internet and honestly you couldn’t wait.