#1d angst

The ad for a roommate popped up on her university’s alumni page. His profile was then linked to his occupational profile. CST, it read. She clicked the link. “No way,” she said reading the words attached to the abbreviation. Certified Sex Therapist. It seemed like a line he baited girls into getting them home with him, but she clicked on the link to the website with a reputable counseling service record. It wasn’t just sex therapy but other therapies as well. Maybe he can refer me to a therapist she thought with a smirk. She looked back at his profile picture. “That’s simply not fair,” she muttered to herself. He had curly brown hair that was coiffed to perfection. Green eyes that sparkled like the emeralds they surely were. And the dimples. Oh, those dimples were going to be the death of her.

“Well, that can’t possibly be legal,” she said to herself as she clicked on the profile. She was desperate for a roommate. But she wasn’t so desperate that she was willing to get her head chopped off like an idiot. But this was...there was no way it was legal for him to be a sex therapist looking that good. It wouldn’t be fair to any of his clients. How any right-minded woman could go to therapy with their significant other with Harry sitting before them was...laughable. There was no way. She was hardly sure she could manage being roommates with him. But again, she was desperate.

And she was strictly looking for a roommate. One that wouldn’t mind her excessive baking and would share household chores. One that would understand her flexible schedule and wouldn’t mind being friends if it worked out that way. She originally wanted a female roommate. But she had three female roommates in as many months and they were...she didn’t like to say it lightly, but they were crazy.

Hiiii! She typed. It seemed a little over the top and maybe she was, but she wanted to be honest. She was friendly when she needed to be and while she definitely understood roommate boundaries, she always dreamed of a fun little roommate story like she had seen in sitcoms growing up. Something like Friends or Will and Grace seemed like a rite of passage in her twenties. Right now, she was fresh out of college, embarking on her first real job in the city and needed a roommate in order to live in this apartment that wouldn’t break her bank. I’m very interested in being your roommate. I, myself, have very good references and in addition to the apartment itself, I come with my own waffle maker, a full Betty Crocker test kitchen cookbook, and delicious brunch recipes (my brunch sangrias are to die for). Again, maybe over the top. But she wanted him to like her.

She didn’t expect an answer right away, certainly not an incoming video chat. Blinking and surprising herself, she clicked accept. The screen pinged and centered on the smirking face from the profile picture she had just been ogling moments before. “M’very interested in this sangria,” he said with a chuckle. She smirked.

“Yeah?” She wondered. “Are you a white or a red kinda wine drinker?” She asked eyeing the pitcher on top of her fridge while she examined the selection of wines on the counter. She would make him anything he wanted. His voice was smooth and deep like chocolate. He sounded so sultry without even trying.

“Yes,” he chuckled.

She giggled in response. “I see, well my specialty is a white peach recipe; it also happens to be my favorite.”

“Understood,” he nodded. “Suppose it could be a toast to a new roommate?” He chuckled as he questioned her. “You’re the first reasonable one ‘ve gotten a notice for and I... well, I know s’forward, but I jumped when I received y’message obviously,” he shrugged. She felt like she was talking to an old friend. He had this air about him that made everything calm and lovely. “Would love t’be your roommate,” he said with a beautiful smile that ached every vein in her body. Oh, he was going to break her heart. She just knew it. She should have said no right then and there. It would save her in the long run.

“Would you like to see the place?” She asked. “I’ll send you the address.”

*

He was tall and lanky. But he seemed...firm and soft somehow. She showed him around the two-bedroom, and she was grateful to lead because for the one second she let him go in front of her when he entered the apartment, she desperately wanted to touch his back and trace the muscles she could see outlined by his t-shirt. He was cheerful and polite. He shook her hand when he entered, and he held open the doors and gestured for her to go first as she walked by him—even in her own apartment. It made her shiver.

She instantly wanted to be his best friend. “This is a steal,” he said looking around the apartment. He admired the wall hangings she put up. He ran his finger along the frame of one. He was in awe of the space and the price he would pay. She didn’t seem crazy, and he liked her already. “Y’can’t get anyone y’know?” He asked and his eyebrows pinched together in surprise.

She scuffed her foot along the floor shyly. “Most of my friends are in relationships...live with their significant others. I... I was in a relationship with m’degree...don’t have a lot of single friends to be roommates with,” she explained. He nodded easily.

“I get that,” he said shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked so cute. She couldn’t imagine telling him her deepest darkest secrets about her sex life. Not without it leading to sex... “I was in a relationship with my degree too,” he chuckled. “Ruined a lot of m’own relationships...M’closest friends are in a relationship, live with their girlfriends s’well.”

She nodded understandingly. It was tough out there these days. “Well, Harry, so long as you think you can stand me and my baking, I would love to have you,” she smiled. He grinned with relief.

“Thank you, this is amazing, kitten!” He said cheerily. He pulled her in for a hug and kiss on the cheek that left her stunned and speechless. “Sorry, m’very affectionate,” he said sheepishly and glanced at the floor, and she thought she might burst when she saw his cheeks turn pink as he shyly looked away from her. “M’gonna go start packing!” He said just as quickly and hastily left out the door. “Send me y’number!” He called over his shoulder.

She pressed a hand to her cheek. Oh yes, this boy would surely break her heart.

*

Harry made himself at home instantly. He had taken a whole week off to get settled. “How did you manage that? Didn’t you just graduate?” She asked as she helped carry in one of his boxes labeled “Kitchen.”

“No, kitten,” he shook his head. “I graduated last year,” he explained.

She smirked, tilting her head at him. “So, you’ve just been falsely posing on the alumni page for the wrong year?” She questioned.

“Kitten, I was so desperate fo’ a roommate, I was ready to be a dorm advisor,” he chuckled. “Posing as a different year was nothing,” he said easily with another shrug. “Built up some time over the last year,” he told her in explanation as to the paid time off. He wasn’t just starting out like she was. She was struggling with the box as she maneuvered around the other ones. Harry noted it almost immediately and snagged the box from her as if it didn’t weigh at least twenty pounds and grabbed her hip to steady her before she fell and hurt herself. “Y’okay, kitten?” He wondered settling the box at his feet. “Pull anything?” He asked in concern. It was genuine too, everything about Harry was genuine.

She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly trying not to read into everything Harry did. While he said he didn’t have a significant other in college, it didn’t mean he didn’t have one now. “Erm...thanks,” she said and then made her way back to his moving van to get the next box.

“Y’don’t have to help, y’know,” he said following behind her. “We...don’t have to be friends...if y’don’t want.”

She pouted, grateful her back was to him. She was hurt by the idea that they would never be friends and they had hardly even known each other a whole day in total. “Oh...um...”

“Not that I don’t want to be!” He hurried. “Y’seem really cool, kitten. The sangria was a really big selling point if m’being honest,” he chuckled. She spun on her heel which caused him to bump into her awkwardly. “Oof,” he grunted and grabbed her by the hip again to keep her from tumbling backwards. Once steadied, she smirked at him. Every time he touched her made her heart pound, but she liked him regardless of if she wanted to jump his bones. He was fun and sweet. He was a mess of a talker and accidentally insulted her at least once an hour. And he was easy on the eyes of course.

“I think I’ll like being your friend, Mr. Styles.” He smiled so beautifully it made her chest ache. Those dimples would surely be the death of her.

*

When he saw her profile picture, Harry knew he was done for. “She’s gonna break my heart,” he mumbled as he looked over her profile. He had only been in three serious relationships since he was in college. One freshman fling, one that lasted two years during his sophomore and junior years of school before she grew tired of his need to study. The other two-year stint only recently ending due to a misunderstanding on her part about what exclusive meant. Harry was sad, heartbroken, and quite bitter about not having a girlfriend and having to move out of the apartment he had grown accustomed to over the last year or so. He was upset to start over in his love life. He was in love with love, and he wanted to spoil someone he adored.

When he saw her face on that video chat he so bravely called for, he was nearly speechless. He managed to say something about sangria to break the ice so he could focus on not salivating over her cute smile. She was going to ruin him, but in the best of ways. He was sure of it.

They got into a routine before they knew it. It took less than a month of him living there. She hated doing dishes and Harry hated laundry. It was an even trade. Maybe more so on her part, because she didn’t have to suffer Harry seeing her underwear, but she was allowed to fold his boxers and it felt way too close for comfort. They shared just about all other chores. Except she insisted on vacuuming if Harry was going to take the trash out.

“S’jus’...You’re a...very pretty girl, kitten. Don’t want y’t’get into trouble late at night taking the trash out,” he said sheepishly and then rushed out the door before he could say anything else; before he could feel bad about his assumptions of wanting to keep her safe. Harry knew how he felt about her, but he could only imagine how others thought about and looked at her. She busied herself with another task before she could read into Harry. Before she could think about how he called her pretty. Before she could explain she used to take the trash out before he lived there...because maybe she wanted him to call her pretty.

*

Harry’s job had him out of the apartment from 7-5 on Monday through Thursday. They were very long days that left him feeling quite drained but were made better only since he got out early by working 8-12 on Fridays. (And she was sweet enough to have dinner for him on the days he worked so late). He worked close enough that he could even stop in for lunch most days. Which he did when she worked from home on Wednesdays in particular.

She worked in the financial office as an accountant for a big business in the city that Harry hardly understood the comings and goings because she barely understood what they did most of the time. She just knew how to account all their money and knew when to sound the alarm if something was amiss. All he knew is she wore cute business dresses and heels and looked like a Greek goddess. Calling her pretty was just the minimum of what he wanted to say when she looked so utterly beautiful. Even when she worked from home in leggings and a t-shirt, he thought she was just as beautiful if not more than when she was all dolled up. She was made to be a housewife in the most non-misogynistic way possible and he was utterly taken with her. And then, of course there was her sex-appeal.

He would be an idiot to say she wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. It took everything in Harry to not picture her moaning his name every time he saw her. Her lips made him wild. Whether she was smiling or sipping her coffee through the straw. Harry ached to be near her mouth. It was all he dreamed about these days. How she was single was a mystery. He knew she was busy with her degree but if he had known her in college...well there’s not much he wouldn’t do to be her guy.

“Hey kitten,” he said quietly as he entered the apartment. It was Friday. Which meant she was working from home again. He knew she usually napped on her lunch break on Fridays, but he didn’t understand the noise coming from the other room. “Kitten...” he sang hoping to announce his presence and not scare her.

But then he heard a moan. It was so distinct, it stopped him in his tracks. Did she have a guy over? When did she meet him? Was it someone from work? Harry was jealous instantly. He wanted to make her moan. It’s all he dreamed about. He listened for another moment, feeling completely intrusive before he decided to make more noise to show he was home. Quietly he made his way for the front door again and made a good effort to open and then slam it shut.

“Harry?” She called out.

Harry’s entire body shivered to hear her say his name after moaning the way she did. “Jus’ me, kitten,” he called back. She hurried from her room rubbing her eyes, she hardly looked flushed. At least he wasn’t good at pleasuring her. Harry thought to himself.

“You’re home early,” she said.

He smirked. “M’right on time,” he said glancing at the clock. Time must have snuck away from her. And it ate at his heart that it did.

She blushed. “Erm...I just meant...I was supposed to have lunch for you, and I don’t,” she said wrinkling her nose. “M’sorry.” He can feel the jealousy in his chest but it’s not his fault. He heard her moan and it’s going to be all he thinks about for the rest of his days. Certainly, all he thinks about tonight. “Good thing you did come home on time, I slept too long,” she yawned, and Harry realized she did look quite sleepy. The jealousy subsided but he was simultaneously riled at the thought of whatever she was dreaming about.

“S’okay, you can keep sleeping, kitten,” he chuckled. “I can make m’own lunch.”

“Yeah, but I’m home, seems unfair...”

He smiled at her shaking his head. He wanted to know what her deal was. She was acting like a girlfriend and Lord, was she good at it. He was willing to take her act, but he thought he would have enjoyed it for real as well. “You’re too good t’me, kitten,” he said giving her a peck on the cheek before he made his way to his bathroom; he had the right mind to take a cold shower, so he didn’t think unholy things about her.

*

They continued about their lives for the better part of a month. There was nothing too crazy to speak of like her moaning in her sleep. They went to work and came home. They hung out a bit but nothing more than a pair of roommates really. To be expected, she was settling into her new job, she didn’t go out much, but she had plans for the end of the month to spend a long weekend with her friends at the beach. Harry didn’t see his friends too often either. She was unknowing, but he had blown off many plans for Friday nights watching movies and reading books with his roommate.

“Would y’mind if I have some friends over?” Harry wondered. It had been too long, and they were starting to get suspicious. The only time they saw him was at the gym and on Sunday’s when they watched the game at the local pub. She was sitting on the couch reading her book listening to soft music. Looking utterly beautiful without even trying. Harry was obsessed with her.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she giggled and set her book on the coffee table. “You don’t have to ask.”

But he did. “’Ve got to at least let y’know.”

“Thank you,” she said so sweetly. Her lips dripped with honey. “By all means. Do you want me to bake anything for you?”

His heart thudded violently against his ribcage. Oh, she was so good. Too good. He was a mess for her. “No, kitten. You’re too much,” he shook his head. “And I’ll do all the cleaning, y’aren’t t’lift a finger,” he said raising an eyebrow at her suspiciously. “Understand?” He asked.

She nodded but smirked at him impishly. “Please let me know if you need help though, and don’t worry about me, when I’m tired enough, I can sleep through anything,” she told him. “Seriously, pretend I’m not even here,” she said and rose from the couch and headed for her bedroom.

He did what she said. He pretended she wasn’t there, but that was a bit hard when she consumed all his thoughts. He was organizing the snacks and drinks for his friends and set up the football game Niall asked to watch during the gathering. He was just going to his room to change when he was halted at her room.

He nearly dropped to his knees then and there at the sight of her. She was laying twisted like a vine, half naked. Harry felt so intrusive to something and someone so vulnerable, but he figured it was better he saw her than his friends. Her door was half open, and it must have been the window billowing her curtains that pulled it open because she was out cold, sound asleep. He can’t imagine her leaving her door open for him to find her half naked. Her face was scrunched against one of the pillows, the corner of her book dangerously close to her eye. He didn’t know where to look because everything was on display. Her bum was round and pillowy looking. It begged for his hand to cup each cheek. Her underwear was nearly non-existent hooked at her hips but lost between the cheeky flesh he felt the desperate need to bite. Twisted the way she was, Harry seriously worried about her spine. But only for a moment because then his eyes roamed to her chest. She was only wearing a bra that had her breasts almost spilling out of it. He wanted to bury his face between her cleavage, and he thought he would die a happy man. There was so much of her delicious skin exposed, and he was only man. He had to get out of there fast.

Oh, it was so good he found her and not one of his friends. He stepped in her room quietly and grabbed the throw blanket at the end of her bed. He draped it over her because she did look chilly, and he would rather die than let her be uncomfortable. She sighed dreamily at the warmth. As sexy as she was half naked, Harry was smitten with the sigh that escaped her lips as she was completely covered by the blanket. He wanted to stroke her face, kiss her forehead. But instead, he turned to leave. Once his back was turned, she sighed again. “Harry,” she cooed. It was crystal clear. She caught him. But she sounded unsurprised. Nonetheless, Harry froze in place. He waited for her shock and embarrassment to take over. Her hatred of him.

It didn’t come. Curiously, he glanced over his shoulder and saw she had turned and snuggled deeper into her pillows and pulled the blanket around her shoulder and tucked it under her chin. She was still asleep. Harry was dizzy. His heart was warm, and his entire body tingled to know she was thinking of him while she slept. He had to get out of there. He closed her door with a soft click, making sure the doorknob’s latch was securely in place so that it wouldn’t blow open again.

Baseball players were obnoxious. They were loud and over the top in everything that they did. They were the only team at school that actually won anything, so they thought that they were the absolute best, and they would rub that in anyone’s face whenever they got the chance. 

The part that made you hate them the most, however, was the fact that every single one of them is attractive. They were hot and they all knew it. This wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t flaunt themselves and watch all the girls fall to their knees for them.

Well, mostly all the girls. You wouldn’t be caught dead with any of the baseball players. You made that abundantly clear every chance that you got, and most of them seemed to understand. 

Actually, all of them understood except for one. The one you hated the most. The captain of the baseball team, the best looking one of all, Harry Styles. 

He was as egotistical and narcissistic as they come. He watched girls fawn over him and made it into a joke. He would see how far he could string them along before breaking it off, only to see them fall apart. 

He was a dick and you could not stand to even be in the same room as him. You rolled your eyes every time that he looked in your direction and you ignored him every time that he tried to talk to you.

Until the day that the worst thing that could have ever happened in Chemistry class unfolded. 

It was the beginning of the second semester, which meant that everyone got a new lab partner. To everyone in the class, it made absolutely no sense, but Mrs. Madison was always going on and on about the fact that the class needed to make new friends and branch out more, Which, apparently, she thought would be accomplished by making you work with a random person for an hour every day while doing labs in the absolute worst subject in school. 

Every attempt to complain about the changes, however, were completely futile. She didn’t have a single care in the world for the wants of her class, she just did what she wanted.

Which was apparently making your life a living hell.

She went through the roster, randomly assigning partners until she got to your name.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles.” You tried your best to hide the grimace that had etched its way onto your features and the groan of frustration that was fighting to come out.You had looked over at him, hoping that he would complain and she would change partners, seeing as she had always had a soft spot for Harry, but to no avail. He had a wide grin on his face, as if hearing that sentence had made his week.

And so it started, the hour every day that would rarely be spent working, but more so to get to know one another better. At first, it had been him trying to get to know you better, but eventually, you had loosened up, had realized that if you were going to be stuck with him, then you might as well be civil.

“Come on, Y/N, just tell me something about you.” He had whined.

“What do you wanna know, Styles?” You could tell by the look in his eyes that you had caught him off guard. He had thought that he would have to work harder to get you to tell him something.

“Anything, anything at all.” He looked genuinely interested and you couldn't help but shake the feeling that maybe you were wrong about him. But that was absurd, right?

“I like photography and I write sometimes.” You had mumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t hear. Of course, he did hear it, every single word of it. 

But he didn’t make fun of you like you had thought he would, he had just softly smiled at you, mumbled a “thanks” and then continued with the lab.

Weeks passed and every class period was getting easier and easier to attend, until one day, you found yourself actually looking forward to the class. You were absolutely perplexed. Who in their right minds actually looked forward to chemistry? You couldn’t fathom why your attitude had suddenly shifted. That is, until you walked into the classroom and saw him sitting there.

Who would’ve thought? Harry Styles was the reason that you were excited to come to chemistry. It had taken him mere weeks to tear down the walls that you had worked so hard to keep up.

It was like he hadn’t even tried. He had just been nice. And for the first time ever, you didn’t think that he had been doing it to use you. He had been genuinely nice and you had fallen for it. You had become just like every other girl in the school.

You had fallen for the boy with the pretty green eyes. It wasn't like you had just taken one look at him and fallen, though. That’s where you were different. It had taken you weeks. But it still happened nonetheless. He still ended up with you wrapped around his finger.

‘Now it’s just a matter of time before he uses it against me,’ you had thought to yourself before taking your seat next to him.

It had been two years since that day. You were now seniors and he had yet to use it against you. In fact, he had fallen for you before you had fallen for him and he was ecstatic when he found out that you had feelings for him.

He had been the perfect boyfriend for two years and counting. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

Everyone thought he was the absolute perfect man, and really, he was. There was only one thing about him that you could ever complain about, and honestly, you couldn’t even call it a flaw. 

Harry just had the tendency to get jealous. Of course, he trusted you. It’s just that he didn’t trust everyone else. 

And that’s the exact reason that you’re in the situation with Harry that you are.

“Why him? You could’ve cheated with anyone, why’d you pick him?” He runs a shaking hand through his unruly curls that were still drenched with sweat. “You know how I feel about that piece of shit.” He stops for a moment, looking you in the eyes, and you can see the anger burning behind the jade irises. “That’s why you did it, isn’t it?” He accuses.

“Harry, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t cheat on you!” You throw your hands up in the air, frustrated by the fact that he won’t listen to you and hurt because he thinks you would actually do such a thing. “Why would I cheat on you? especially with him?”

“I don’t know!” He yells, not being able to contain it any longer. “Everyone fucking warned me, don’t get too attached to someone, you’ll get your heart broken.” He looks in your direction, but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you. “What they never told me, though, is that I would fall so in love with someone only for them to rip my heart out of my chest and beat it repeatedly with a sledgehammer.” He’s back to pacing around the room, looking everywhere but you. “I told them all, ‘no, it’ll be fine. I love her. She loves me. We’ll be alright. That won’t happen.’ But maybe I was wrong. Maybe they had a point.” 

“Will you please let me explain myself, H?” You try, wanting to get him to see the truth in the situation and not what he wants to see just because he hates Malachi. “Just let me tell you what happened and then we can talk, please.” You beg him. All you need is a few seconds and everything can be fixed. You can cuddle up to your loving boyfriend and put everything behind you. Or maybe you can congratulate him on the fourth win of the season, leaving his team undefeated.

He doesn’t seem to hear your question, though, and he mumbles something. At first, your brain doesn’t register what’s been said, but then you process. It hits you like a train, and you’re speechless for a moment. Everything that had been floating around in your head left the moment that you realized how he was really feeling.

Apparently, you go without saying anything for too long, being completely shell-shocked and all, so he repeats himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him the first time. “Am I not good enough?” He finally stops pacing, looking up at you, and for a second, you wish that you had never faced him. There are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill onto his blotchy cheeks. He looks absolutely disheveled and your heart breaks at the sight. This wasn’t the first time that you had discussed this with him. 

Harry wasn’t the arrogant guy that he pretended to be at school. He was insecure and he doubted himself in everything that he did. The only thing that made him feel like he was enough for anybody was you, and he thought that you were trying to leave him for someone else.

“Harry, baby.” You say, walking over to him and trying to grab his hands. “Listen to me please.”

He pulls away and spits, “Don’t call me baby.” You know he doesn’t mean it, he just pushes everyone away when he gets like this. He’d rather be alone than think he’s burdening anybody. 

You take a deep breath in, trying to force the tears in your eyes to stay there and not spill onto your face. This was about him, not you. You had no right to shift the focus onto yourself by letting the tears fall. Not that he would blame you, he would drop everything to make you feel better, which is why you couldn’t cry right now. It was your turn to make him feel better. 

“Harry, listen.” You say, grabbing his hand. “You’re everything. I could never ask for anyone better.” There’s nothing but truth in your voice, and you hope that he can hear it.

“Then why do you want him?” He asks, no longer sounding hateful, just hurt. He pulls his hand out of your grasp and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s too far into his insecurities for you to fix this with a sentence or two.

“I don’t. Harry, I don’t. I want you. And that’s what I was trying to tell him when you walked over.” You take his hand in yours again, holding tighter than last time, not wanting him to pull away again. To your relief, he doesn’t. He just let’s you guide him to the bed. You sit down at the end and pull him to sit beside you. 

Once he’s settled, you raise a hand to his hair and push it out of his eyes, knowing that he hates when his hair falls into his line of vision. “Yes, he asked me out. Yes, he told me that I should choose him.” he stiffens and you can feel the anger coming back to his body, so you quickly continue, “But I didn’t. I didn’t choose him, because he isn’t you,” you slide into his lap, placing one knee on the bed on each side of him, straddling him. You cup his face in your hands and continue, “and you are the only,” you lean in and give him a quick peck, “one,” you lean in again, “that,” another, “I’ll” your lips linger slightly longer this time, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer, “ever,” you’re back to quick pecks, “want.”

You move your hands from his face, letting them slide down over his neck and come to a rest on his shoulders.

You lean your head down, letting your lips find purchase on the taut skin of his jaw, leaving wet kisses down to the dip of his collar bones. Between every kiss, you murmur a praise to him.

“You’re so handsome, baby.”

“You deserve the world.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

“Look so good in that uniform.”

“Such a good baseball player, wanna reward you.”

At the last one, he pulls back slightly, scanning your face, ensuring that you’re not only doing this because you were arguing. “You sure, baby? Don’t have to do anything just because you think I’m mad.” He runs a hand down your back, letting you know that it’s fine if you don’t want to. The action sends shivers throughout your body.

“Wanna show you how proud of you I am, how much I love you. Would you like that baby?” You ask, waiting for him to approve, not wanting to push him if he really doesn’t want you to do anything.

After a moment of consideration, he nods his head, “Please, love.”

Your lips find their way back to his, immediately locking into a kiss. It’s not like the ones that you usually share. It’s not rushed. There’s no teeth knocking against one another’s, there’s no fight for dominance. It’s smooth and soft, tongues gliding together and seamlessly allowing your mouths to mold.

After a moment, you move slightly, allowing your lips to fall in quick succession all around his face, kissing every feature that you adore beyond comparison. Every detail that he seems to hate about himself. 

You let your lips land on the dimples that make your heart flutter, the crinkles by his eyes that make your tummy erupt in butterflies, the freckles that make you want to run your finger over them for hours on end. You kiss every inch of his face, because his face is the most perfect one that you had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Once you’re satisfied that his face has been moved on enough, you move down to his neck, nipping and sucking marks into his skin. He groans when you place an open mouthed kiss on a particularly sensitive spot and you smirk into his skin. 

Usually, you would pay special attention to that spot, but that was never really for him. Sure, it felt good to him, but you just really loved the groans that would fall from his lips. So, you would drag out the time you spent adoring that single spot.

Today, however, was all about his pleasure. And you know that he hates the teasing more than anything. He doesn’t need the foreplay, the kissing and sucking all over his body. All that he needs is to see you on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

So, as you move down his neck, you begin to unbutton his baseball jersey. Once the final button is undone, you push it off his shoulders and look at the man in front of you. How you got lucky enough to be with him, you’ll never know. 

You begin to kiss down his chest, paying slight attention to the places that you know make him tick. You know that he doesn’t need it, but you also know that they make him feel good, and that’s all that you want to do, make him feel good.

You continue making your way across his chest, kissing and licking. When you get to his nipples, you let your tongue run over them for a moment. You let your teeth gently graze over the peak, and his body jolts into you.

“Baby, please.” He whimpers. You look up at him, giving him a look of mock innocence as you make your way to his other nipple. You repeat your actions before moving down his torso.

You stop once again at his butterfly tattoo, letting your tongue run along the lines of it. He lets out a choppy breath, and you know he’s putty in your hands. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You make your way lower, yet again stopping at his fern tattoos. As you run your tongue across them, pausing slightly every now and then to nip at his hips, his hands rake through your hair, gripping on to the strands like they’re his tethers to reality.

“Not gonna tease you today baby, is that okay?” You murmur against his hip, knowing that you not having your mouth exactly where he wants you to be is killing him. 

“Yeah, that’s fine baby just please, need your mouth so bad.” He begs, and you have no choice but to give him what he wants. You pop the button on his baseball pants, pulling both them and his boxers down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, red and leaking. It’s not like you’ve never seen him before, he’s just so pretty in every aspect, and it seems to catch you off guard every time.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me, H.” You all but whimper, letting your mouth move further down as he kicks his pants completely off.

You settle comfortably on your knees in front of him. You let your hands come up to the top of his thigh, scratching your nails down the skin.

He hisses, and you take his moment of distraction to lick the pearl of precum that has settled at the tip of him.

Just this simple action has him bucking his hips and letting out a broken whimper. You can’t help but smile, knowing that you’re the reason that he’s reacting like that.

When you peer up at him and see him looking at you with pure adoration, you take him in your mouth, sucking at the tip before bobbing further down. The hand in your hair clenches, like he’s trying not to push your head down as far as you can go. Like he’s trying not to make you choke on him.

You pull off of him and revel in the whimper that escapes his mouth. “Do you want to fuck my face baby?”

He chokes out a groan, nodding his head slightly. You reach for his other hand, which had been clenched tightly in a fist by his side, and place it in your hair alongside the other one. He shoots you a wary glance that quickly dissipates as you say, “Then do it. Please, H.”

He lets out a light chuckle. “Who’s begging now?” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer. He pushes back into your mouth, and you can’t help but moan. Him having you like this is one of your favorite sexual activities with him.He starts slow, easy. It’s always like this. He uses shallow thrusts to give you time to adjust to the experience.

Little by little, though, he pushes deeper. He can’t help it, really. You’re just so wet and warm. You feel like heaven to him. 

You hollow your cheeks, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of him, feeling the veins running across the muscle. 

“That’s it, baby, feel so good for me.” He groans, pushing your head down further, causing you to slightly choke, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

He pulls your head back, just as he does every single time, and asks, “Are you okay, lovie?”

Your heart swells, but you’re too impatient to dwell on it, you want him back down your throat. “I’m perfect. Now please, please let me make you feel good.” You stick your tongue back out and he places the tip of his dick on your muscle.

The only warning he gives you is a slight nod before he pushes back down your throat, immediately setting a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he pulls your head towards his hips by your hair.

You can feel the ache beginning to settle in your jaw and the burn in the back of your throat. You know that you won’t be able to comfortably talk for the next few days, but it was always worth it.

“Look at you baby, taking me so well.” He groans, praising you. 

The spit was pooling in your mouth, as it always does, and you know that sooner rather than later, you’ll be making an absolute mess of yourself.

He pushes all the way to the back of your throat, and you feel yourself gag, but you know that he won’t let up before he feels like it, so you push your gag reflex down and do your best to breathe through your nose.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it. Taking all of me like a good girl.” He brings his hand down to your throat, squeezing at it gently, just adding a little bit of pressure.

You moan around him, and that’s when the spit begins to fall, covering your chin. He smiles down at you, mumbling something about you being his messy little baby and continues to thrust into your mouth. 

The only thing that you can taste is him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock against your tongue. You can also feel the way that he’s twitching in your mouth, how every thrust is bringing him closer and closer to his end. 

You hollow your cheeks around him and suck a little harder. You hear him groan from above you and his hips stutter.

He’s a lot closer than you thought he was.

You double your efforts, moving your head along with him, holding his cock all the way in your throat for longer than you had been, sucking a little harder on the tip when he pulls back. 

He’s being unapologetically loud, moaning and groaning about how good you are for him, and you can’t help but be proud. You made him that way.

Seconds later, you can feel the first string of his release. He goes to apologize and pull out of your mouth, but you slightly shake your head and grab his thighs. You know how hot he thinks it is when you swallow.

You take everything he has to offer before swallowing every last drop. When you stand back up, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that there’s nothing left.

He groans and pulls you closer, catching your lips in a heated kiss. This time, it’s complete teeth and tongue. 

“Want me to make you feel as good as you made me feel, love?” He asks.You just shake your head. He looks offended, so you quickly elaborate. “I congratulated you for winning baby, that was a one way thing. Don’t need you to do anything for me, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” You smile at how persistent he is. He’s just as eager to please as you are.

“I’m sure.” He nods, dragging you onto the beg to cuddle with him.

“I’ll just pay you back another time, then.” He promises. You roll your eyes. 

“It’s not something to pay back, H.”

“Fine then, I’ll give you head randomly just because I want to. Or maybe next time you do good on a test. Anytime really.” He chuckles.

“Alright, alright. Can we go to bed? I’m tired.” You whine. He just looks over at you and smiles, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Night, baby.”

“Night night.”

*

Okay so I tried hehe. Thank you for reading!! Come talk to me if you wanna :)))

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It’s your day off, so you were spending it catching up on laundry and cleaning your flat. It’s been quiet all day, so you’re a bit startled when your phone starts ringing. You don’t recognize the number, so you almost ignore it and let it go to voicemail. However, your boss is traveling, so the thought that it could be her calling on someone else’s phone has you pressing the greet button to connect the call.

“Hello?”

“Yes, this is Theresa at St. Mary’s Hospital. May I speak to Y/N?”

Your heart speeds up. Why would a hospital be calling you? What if something’s happened to Chrissy or Lauren. “This is Y/N,” you reply. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, a Harry Styles was brought into the A&E this evening,” she tells you.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear a slight groan from Harry. You watch as his eyelids flutter and his eyes slowly open, squinting at the bright, fluorescent lights. He’s clearly confused.

“You’re at St. Mary’s,” you tell him. “They brought you in a couple of hours ago.”

His brows furrow. “W-w . . . you?” he says and you understand that he’s wondering why you’re here.

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact. You never changed it,” you explain in a tired voice. “I called your mother. She and Gemma are driving down as we speak. They, um, they should be here soon.”

Neither of you speak for a few minutes—an uncomfortable silence fills the room. Finally, you ask the question that has been nagging at you ever since the nurse called you.

“What were you thinking, Harry?” Your voice is much sounds loud in the otherwise quiet room—fear, worry, and anger mix together to make your words come out much sharper than you had intended. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “If your housekeeper hadn’t come in today, you’d be . . . you could have . . .”

The words stick in your throat. You’d been stunned when the doctor had talked to you about Harry’s condition. Acute alcohol poisoning. Traces of opioids. Nearly fatal.

Harry drops his head back the pillow and closes his eyes. “Where’s Will?” he asks, not wanting to answer your questions.

“He’s banned from the hospital,” you tell him. “Your mother and I have your medical proxy, remember? You weren’t able to make your own decisions, so it fell to me until your mother arrives.”

He glares at you. “What the hell, Y/N? What gave you the right-“

You cut him off. “You gave me the right, Harry! It’s been months since we broke up, but you never changed your medical paperwork. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I know you and I know that you’ve always stayed on top of things, so some part of you must have wanted someone other than that man to have control over this part of your life. Some part of you knew that what he was doing wasn’t good for you. Some part of you must have known that you need help. So, look me in the eye right now and tell me that I’m wrong and I’ll have them lift the ban right now.”

Before he can answer, the door flies open and Anne and Gemma rush into to room. They are both clearly upset and hurry over to Harry’s bedside. You hear the low murmur of his voice reassuring them as you slip quietly from the room. Harry’s family has arrived and they are the ones who should take care of him. You have no place here. Not anymore.

November

You’re sitting in the terminal at Heathrow waiting to catch your flight home for Thanksgiving. The sound of Harry’s name draws your attention to the television mounted on the wall next to you.

Pop star Harry Styles, the former One Direction heartthrob, left a private rehab facility early yesterday morning. The Sign of the Times singer entered treatment shortly after being rushed to the hospital for undisclosed reasons last month. Hazza’s current whereabouts are unknown, but we hope that wherever he is he knows that we’re all pulling for his recovery and wish him the best.

In related news, Styles’ former manager, Will Preston has been arrested and charged with embezzlement and fraud in Los Angeles, California today. We’ll have more details as the story develops.

After you’d left the hospital, Gemma had called to thank you for taking care of Harry until they could get to the hospital. She’d also told you that the family and Harry’s closest friends, including Louis, Liam, and Niall had held an intervention convinced him to get the treatment that he needed. They had asked you to participate in the intervention, but you had felt it was best for you to stay away. The only thing you had heard from Harry was a simple text that said, Thank you, H xx.

You are glad to know that he’s on the road to recovery. Although the break up had been harsh. You harbor no ill will towards him. How could you now that you have some idea of what had been going on with him.

You hear the announcer call for your flight to start boarding, so you pick up your carryon and head towards the gate, knowing that there is plenty to be thankful for this year.

December

You sit in the back of the taxi as it heads towards your cozy flat. You’d had a lovely visit with your family in the States, but you’re glad to be back to your life here. When the car pulls up outside your building, you pay the driver and pick up your carryon, pulling your suitcase behind you. You stop short when see a figure sitting on the floor beside your door. You frown until he lifts his head and you see the face underneath the newsboy cap.

“Harry?” you say, surprised to see him.

He smiles ruefully as he unfolds his lanky body from the floor. “Hi,” he says, scratching the back of his neck—a clear sign that he’s nervous and/or unsure of himself. “I, uh, Niall told me that Lauren mentioned you were coming back today. Just didn’t specify a time.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask him bluntly. You wince as his face falls. “I’m sorry that was rude. Would you like to come in?”

You move to the door and he has to shift out of the way so you can unlock it. You’re very aware of his proximity to you and you can clearly smell the familiar scent that you associate with Harry and only Harry.

It’s only when you’re both inside that you notice the bouquet of flowers that must have been sitting on the floor beside Harry. You were so shocked to see him that you hadn’t even noticed them.

“Oh! These are for you,” Harry says, holding them out to you. “A small thank you for what you said at the hospital. I wasn’t completely in the best frame of mind, but your words stuck with me.”

“You didn’t have to, but these are my favorites, so I’m not gonna turn them down,” you say, moving towards your small kitchen to get a vase. “Can I get you some tea or coffee? I won’t have much else since I’ve been gone for a while, but I think I have some of those biscuits you like.”

Harry chuckles and scratches the back of his neck again. “Tea would be good. Thanks, love, um, Y/N.”

Once you’ve put the flowers in water and prepared the tea, the two of you move to the sofa. “So, now, I really have to know what brings you here. I mean, it’s so good to see you up and about. It was so scary seeing you in that hospital bed. But, you didn’t have to come all the way across town to thank me.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I mean, I am thankful, but that’s not why I’m here or at least it’s only partly why I came. I also owe you an apology. No, scratch that. I owe you a thousand apologies, Y/N/N.” He looks at you and you can see the sorrow reflected in his eyes.

“I treated you horribly those last few months and I don’t have any excuses, but I would like to explain. Well, obviously, you know that I got mixed up in some things that I shouldn’t have. I let Will get into my head and he filled it with a bunch of nonsense. I mean, first he was telling me that you had been contacting him and demanding more money to buy yourself things, but you didn’t want me to know. I mean, he had proof, which I now know was fake because he was just covering up the money he was stealing from me.”

You are shocked. You had no idea that Will had accused you of anything, let alone demanding money from Harry. “You believed him, Harry?” the hurt is evident in your voice.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t want and I didn’t at first, but, like I said, he showed “proof” and then you got a job and he just twisted that into more evidence that you valued money more than me. And every time you couldn’t take time off to travel with me, he twisted it. And he kept hinting that you were cheating with some guy from your office and you kept talking about your co-worker. And yeah, now I know that you were just excited about your new experiences, but I was so messed up back then that I just used that as evidence that what Will was telling me was true. I’m so sorry that I doubted you. And I’m even more sorry that I ruined your birthday. I know that it’s something that is really important to you and I messed it up, so this is what I had planned to give you.”

He hands you an envelope. You open it up and smile at the card with the cute puppy on the front. Your eyes widen when you see what’s inside the card. “Hamilton tickets!” you say happily. “You did pick up on my hints!” For months, you’d walked around the house singing the songs and talking about the play.

“You weren’t exactly sublte, Y/N/N,” he chuckles. “The tickets are for the final performance. I hope it lives up to your expectations. I’m just sorry-“ he breaks off that train of thought. He would have loved to have seen it with you, watching your reactions more than the actual show, but he’d blown his chance.

“I won’t keep you, love, but I just want you to know one more thing.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. He’s about to lay everything on the line, even though he knows that there’s no hope. “There are many, many things from this past year that I regret, Y/N/N, but none of them compare to how much I regret fucking up my relationship with you. You made me happier than I can remember being at any other time in my life. I have to live with that, but please know that I wish you nothing but the happiest life out there. You deserve that and so much more, love.”