It's All About Him

I try to answer but the words dissolve into a broken moan when he flattens his tongue and licks a long, filthy stripe from my entrance to my clit. He does it again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the taste, and the wet sound of it is obscene in the quiet room. My hands find his hair without thinking, fingers twisting into the soft curls, and he hums approvingly, the sound buzzing against my swollen clit.

“Fuck, Harry,” I gasp, and my voice comes out wrecked already.

He lifts his head just enough to grin up at me, mouth shiny, eyes dark and sparkling with something that looks dangerously close to fondness. “That’s the idea,” he says, and then he’s back down, sealing his lips around my clit and sucking gently. The sudden pressure makes my back arch off the mattress; he follows the movement, never breaking contact, and the hand on my belly slides lower, two fingers circling my entrance before pushing inside in one smooth glide.

The stretch is perfect. He curls his fingers immediately, finding that spot inside me that makes my vision spark, and his tongue never stops moving. Its circling, flicking, pressing in tight little patterns that have me shaking within minutes. I can feel the orgasm building already, coiling tight and hot in my belly, and I know he can feel it too because he doubles down, sucking harder, fucking me with his fingers in a steady rhythm that matches the pulse pounding in my ears.

Want to read more? Click on the link below!

rock, paper, scissors brothers best friend!harry

tutor > student virgin/inexperienced!reader

late night talking (series) famous!harry

the pact > part 2 famous!harry/childhood friends

just between us married boss!harry x nanny!reader

after the storm enemies to lovers

harry turns 30

arrogant s.o.b

bite me vampire!harry

make me, darling > part 2 enemies to lovers

the one

off limits brothers best friend!harry

obsessed friends to lovers

kiss it better ceo!harry

recipe for disaster

favourite crime > part 2 > part 3 professor x student

“For the writing competition you’ll need to submit a long-form article, on a topic of your choosing.” Miss Winster explains, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Everyone writes this information down as if it’s the most important information of the semester. Me included. Winning this competition means winning the only journalism scholarship Westbridge University offers.

“The article should be bold. You’ll have to expose yourself and your truth. The reader must be captivated.” Miss Winster goes on.

A bold and captivating subject? Exposing myself? Right. As if this campus hasn’t already turned my personal life into public entertainment. Wait. That’s it. I’m choosing reputation and identity as the topic of my long-form article.

Around me, chairs scrape against the floor as everyone starts packing up. Conversations blur together, deadlines, internship interviews, weekend plans. I stare at the blinking cursor in my notes instead.

‘Reputation and identity on Westbridge University’

I read it back. It’s the right topic. It has to be the right topic. It’s just that writing about reputation means writing about the breakup, which means the breakup becomes a five-thousand-word document I have to submit to a panel of judges. I type a period after ‘University’ and then delete it.

Looking at Ella’s texts, I know I’m in for a good gossip session. We’ve been best friends ever since freshman year. Out of pure coincidence we became roommates and the rest is history.

Except for a few straight A students at the front and of course Harry Styles, who is currently leaning back in his chair with a girl perched on the edge of his desk, twirling her hair while he grins up at her like she’s the only person in the room. Dark curls, easy posture, the kind of smile that makes you forget he’s probably done this exact thing a hundred times. She laughs at something he says and touches his arm. He doesn’t move it away.

I zip up my backpack and walk outside. And just as i think i’m finaly free of one captain, i run straight into the other. Adrian. The captain of the football team and obviously my ex. At least he’s not surrounded by girls this time. He stands there with his friends, not even looking at me when I walk past them. I hear them laughing about some party they went to last Friday. I’m sick of it feeling like this. My heart aches, and all i want to do is go up to him and ask for a hug. I know how that sounds, alright? It sounds pathetic. But I can’t help it. We’ve been together for about a year, and i honestly thought he loved me like i loved him. Never dating a football captain again. Scratch that. Never dating a sports captain again in general.

I spot Ella the second I step foot outside. She’s already waiting for me with my favourite coffee. She knows how much this breakup hurt, and while she’s in a long-term relationship herself, she’s been going through it with me.

“Did class go better today?” She asks while handing me my coffee.

I exhale, “Actually, yes. Today went better than yesterday.”

We start walking toward our dorm building, the coffee cup warms my hands against the cold October wind. Campus is annoyingly alive around us. Music blasts somewhere near the student center while groups of students crowd the sidewalks.

Every few steps, I catch someone looking my way. A girl across the sidewalk leans closer to her friend and whispers something. Both of them glance over before quickly turning back to their conversation.

She smiles softly, “Then maybe you have a bit of energy left? So we can go to the party at The Quad tonight?”

I was really looking forward to a night on the sofa with lots of popcorn and another season of Love Island. I sigh, thinking of an excuse.

“You’ve watched Love Island so much that I’m starting to think you’re ready to live in that villa now.” She giggles.

“Actually, that sounds like an awesome plan girl.” I say sarcastically.

“You haven’t flirted with a single person in two weeks.” She says.

“That sounds healthy actually.” I counter.

“No, babe. You looked genuinely emotional when the barista called you pretty yesterday.” She adds.

Fallen leaves crunch beneath our shoes as Ella hooks her arm through mine dramatically.

“I’m not in the mood to watch Adrian flirt with sorority girls.” I whisper.

“Jack says only half the football team is going. Adrian isn’t going to be there. Pretty please?” She pouts. “We don’t have to go long at all.”

I glance at her. She’s been so patient through all of this, listening to me dissect every text, every memory, every reason why Adrian would dump me so out of the blue. And we haven’t gone out in two weeks. For most people, that probably isn’t a big deal. For Ella, it practically qualifies as hibernation.

A part of me wants to say no. Stay in. Hide behind a blanket and a reality show where other people make terrible romantic decisions for once. But she’s spent the last two weeks showing up for me, and I’m tired of being the heartbroken frien.

I sigh, “Alright, we’ll go.”

She beams with excitement. “Yesss! Wait, I’m texting Jack right now!”

I shake my head as she fumbles for her phone.

Somehow, despite several breakups, public arguments, and one incident involving a football helmet and a dorm window, they always end up back together. I try not to think about how unfair that feels.

The second Ella pushs open the door, loud music and Maya’s voice hit us simultaneously.

“If he posts one more black-and-white gym picture, I’m reporting him for disturbing my peace while scrolling.”

Maya is sprawled dramatically across our couch, laptop balanced on her knees while an open bag of chips rests against her stomach. Her dark hair is piled into a messy bun.

Jonah barely glances up from the armchair beside the window, lazily scrolling through his phone. “You follow him voluntarily,” he points out calmly.

“That’s not the point.” Maya grabs another chip. “The point is that men discover grayscale editing once and suddenly think they’re starring in a documentary.”

I laugh quietly while kicking my shoes off near the door.

“There she is,” Maya says immediately, pointing at me like she’s spotted a rare species in the wild. “Westbridge University’s saddest citizen.”

“Be nice,” Ella warns while tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter.

“I am being nice. Last week she looked like a Victorian widow wandering through campus searching for her lost husband at sea.”

Jonah finally looks up now, his mouth twitching slightly. “You did wear all black for four straight days.”

“That was fashion,” I defend myself.

Ella disappears into the kitchen long enough to grab snacks before dropping onto the couch beside Maya. “Good news,” she announces. “Y/N agreed to come to The Quad tonight.”

Maya gasps dramatically loud enough to deserve an award. “She leaves the house!”

“I leave the house all the time.”

“You leave the house for lectures and emotional support coffee runs. That barely counts.”

I throw one of the couch pillows at her head, but she catches it effortlessly while grinning.

Jonah finally locks his phone and leans back in the armchair. “For what it’s worth, Adrian probably won’t even be there tonight.”

All three of us turn toward him immediately.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“It’s normal that Ella knows that kind of stuff, but how do you know?” Maya accuses.

Jonah shrugs. “Dan mentioned most of the football team is going to some away game watch thing downtown.”

A small wave of relief loosens something in my chest. Maybe tonight won’t be a complete disaster after all.

Ella notices my expression instantly. “See?” she says softly. “One party. One normal night. That’s all I’m asking.”

I glance between her, Maya, and Jonah before sighing dramatically. “If this ends with me crying in a bathroom stall while Adele plays in the background, I’m blaming all of you.”

“Fair,” Maya says. “But if you accidentally hook up with someone hot, we’re taking partial credit for that too.”

“That is absolutely not happening.”

Jonah snorts quietly. “Famous last words.”

An hour later, our dorm suite looks like a tornado made entirely out of makeup products and outfit changes. Music blasts from Maya’s speaker while Ella sits cross-legged on the bathroom counter curling her already curly hair.

“I’m telling you right now,” Maya says from her bed, holding up two tiny black tops critically, “this one says mysterious and emotionally unavailable, while this one says she’ll ruin your life but in a sexy way.”

I stare at her. “Those are literally the same shirt.”

“They are completely different energies.”

“You’re insane.”

“Fashion is psychological warfare,” she says seriously.

I end up settling on dark jeans and a black long-sleeve top mostly because it requires the least amount of emotional energy. Ella immediately complains that I’m “dressing like a hot journalism major again,” while Maya threatens to physically add color to my wardrobe herself.

Jonah remains stretched across our couch the entire time, completely unfazed by the chaos around him. At this point, he’s basically immune to our pre-party rituals.

My phone buzzes beside me while I straighten my necklace in the mirror. Another text from some classmate pretending to casually ask if I’m “doing okay.” Translation: fishing for breakup gossip. I mute the conversation instantly.

Before I can put my phone down, voices drift in from the hallway outside our suite. Loud. Laughing. A group of girls heading toward the elevators.

“Apparently Harry Styles is already there,” one of them says.

Another girl laughs. “Of course he is. Didn’t he leave with the last party with that blonde from Ashford University last weekend?”

“No, that was Tuesday.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Swear to God. Mia saw them leaving together at like two in the morning.”

Maya slowly looks over at me from the bathroom doorway. I roll my eyes even though something uncomfortable twists in my stomach. “Why does everyone on this campus act like his love life is breaking news?”

“Because he’s hot,” Ella answers simply.

Jonah finally glances up from his phone. “Also because half the student body secretly thinks they’ll be the exception.”

“Tragic,” Maya mutters.

Twenty minutes later, we're crossing campus toward The Quad beneath strings of golden lights hanging between trees and lampposts. The cold October air stings my cheeks, carrying the scent of damp leaves and someone's overly sweet perfume.

The closer we get, the louder everything becomes. Students crowd the lawn outside the frat house, packed shoulder to shoulder beneath the lights. Laughter bursts from different directions, mixing with music, shouted greetings, and the occasional shriek of someone spotting a friend across the crowd. Red plastic cups flash between hands. Someone brushes past me, leaving behind the smell of beer and cologne.

Ella links her arm through mine tightly. “Tonight,” she says, “we’re reminding your ex exactly what he lost.”

I laugh nervously. Then I look up and accidentally lock eyes with Harry standing across the lawn. And suddenly, this night feels dangerous.

A/N: thank you so much for reading, lovely 💌🥹i really appreciate feedback, so please comment and reblog if you can! BTW: While Harry and Y/N haven't officially met yet, Y/N's subconscious has already formed some very strong opinions about him. Unfortunately, those opinions arrive in the form of a dream she'd rather take to the grave.🌶️ Read the exclusive bonus scene now on Patreon.

Taglist: @lizsogolden @avensgreenvans @maudie-duan @chocostyles @sparklejumpropequeen1113 @pops234 @lomlcamy

Taglist: @lizsogolden @avensgreenvans @maudie-duan @chocostyles @sparklejumpropequeen1113 @pops234 @lomlcamy