Saturday Night Live With Host And Musical Guest Harry Styles - 16/11/2019

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CWsBjsogtu7/?utm_medium=copy_link

my brain straight thought about him edging you and all you want is for him to finally just fvck you and then he say what is in the video 😭😭

EDGING

A/N: you asked for it and im serving it. get ready for the juice!

WARNING: adult content, edging... bc he is just obsessed with it.

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

He is still wearing his light blue shiny shirt.

And nothing else

You’re lying across the king sized bed of the hotel room you share, only your lacy thong covering your soaking wet pussy that’s throbbing for him, a pained whimper slips through your trembling lips when he steps closer to the bed and wraps a hand around his rock hard cock, staring down at you with greedy, dark eyes. This is not the soft Harry who likes to cuddle you every night, who brings breakfast to bed just to see you smile first thing in the morning, who always surprises you with little gifts to brighten your day.

No, this version of him is dominant, demanding and in full control of you. Just how you like him.

He came off the stage extra cheeky tonight and judging from the way how he could barely keep his hands off of you at the venue, you knew things would get heated pretty fast as soon as you’re alone.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his lips as he gives himself a few slow, but sturdy pumps.

“Harry, please!” you moan, your thighs shutting closed to create some friction at least. He’s been taking his sweet time with you, he stripped out of your dress as if you were a gift to be unwrapped, made you stand against the wall as he sank to his knees, biting into your ass cheeks, his hands coming to tease between your legs that were shaking from excitement. Then he threw you to the bed, like an absolute cave man and made you watch him strip from his light blue pants and underwear, leaving him only in his shiny shirt, because you told him before the show how much you liked it.

His chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, some of his post concert sweat is still glistening on his warm skin and you’re dying to touch him, but you know if you don’t do what he tells you, you won’t get what you want.

“Keep them open, baby. Want to see how desperate you are for me,” he warns you, a hand coming to push your knees apart so he sees your wet cunt. “Touch yourself, let me see just how wet you are.”

Your hand moves down your chest and stomach until you reach the elastic of your underwear, but before you could reach under the fabric, he speaks up.

“No, over the thong. Want to see it drenched.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as you press your fingers against your clit, finally feeling your nerves reacting to a touch, but it’s not the one you desire the most. You move your two fingers up and down, pressing the lacy fabric into your cunt, between the lips as it soaks up your arousal.

“Does it feel good? Or do you want something else, baby?” he hums, cocking his head to the side as he keeps stroking himself lazily.

“Feels good, but I want you!” you breathe out as you try to get yourself closer to relief, but your body is working against you. It only wants Harry and you can’t blame yourself.

“Yeah? You want this?” he asks glancing down at his throbbing dick. Your voice dies in your throat so you only nod, but it’s not enough for him. “I want to hear you, baby. Beg for it.”

You moan at his words, your thighs twitching to close again, but you remember what he said about wanting them open so you force yourself to obey.

“Please!” is all you manage to get out. Harry steps closer to the bed, his hand letting go of his cock before moving to grab your wrist and pushing it away from you. With one swift movement, he rips the last piece of clothing, making you gasp from the sudden pinching you feel as the fabric gives up around your body, and he throws it to the side without batting an eye. It’s not the first piece he has ruined and surely not the last one either.

He places a knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over your shaking form, his cock springing freely with each movement he makes and the way his tongue slides across his lips gives you shivers.

“You know just one please is never enough for me,” he warns, his voice low and raspy after tonight’s show and you could come just from his words at this point.

“Fuck, Harry! Just… Ugh!”

It’s torture, how his fingertips tap on your clit a few times before drawing a few slow circles, teasing and playing with you.

“Just what, huh? You want my cock? Does your pussy want to be properly fucked?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your whole body on fire. He grabs the base of his cock, brings his hips closer, just enough that he can drag the tip across your lips, pushing a tiny bit into your hole, but pulling back right away. “Harry!” you moan almost as if you were in pain, but in a sense, you are. Every second that passes without him inside you is a painful one and you want him to end your misery.

“I told you, I want to hear you. You ask nicely, you get it. Stop being a brat and use your words.”

Fucking hell, this man will be the death of you.

“Harry, please! I need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me, please! I’m begging!”

The smirk on his face is so smug, so confident, you love it even if he is making you suffer. You’d do anything for him and he knows exactly just how much power he holds over you.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles, dragging the tip across you once again, tapping it a few times on your clit, smearing your wetness all over him and you as well. He pushes himself against your hole again, just the very end of the tip entering you, but doesn’t move, only watches you through lustful eyes as you fall apart for him.

“Harry! Fuck me, please!” you cry out, one hand coming flat against his toned stomach as he moves a bit closer, hovering over you. Running your hands up his chest, his neck, you lace your fingers through his hair and pull him down for a needy kiss that he returns gladly. His lips are sucking and tugging on yours, tongue invading your mouth, melting together with yours as his cock is still not inside you.

“Love it when you are so desperate for me, baby,” he growls, positioning his hips so his cock slips between your lips and he moves a little, slipping between them, the tip pushing against your clit over and over again.

He keeps this up, his head moving to the crook of your neck, marking you up as always so you already know you’ll have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but now you just want to feel him everywhere.

Then he pulls back, lining his cock up with you and you’re sure he’ll finally give you what you want, but just as you feel the tip entering you again… he pulls back. You gasp, tugging on his hair a little harder as he smirks down at you, so pleased with himself.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but he just chuckles, enjoying the game.

“Edging,” he then murmurs and with one swift movement, he thrusts inside you.

He fills you up fast and so perfectly, you’re convinced you were made for each other. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, starts moving rapidly, slamming his hips against yours mercilessly, pounding into you just how you like it. One hand comes to your thigh and he urges you to lock his waist with your legs, you’re more than happy to obey, allowing his cock to bury deeper into you.

“So needy for me, yeah? Who fucks you the best, baby? Let me hear it from you,” he groans into your neck, wet lips brushing against the spot he sucked on earlier.

“You, Harry! Only you!”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” he growls before biting into the soft skin, making you gasp from the sensation.

He is pounding into you so hard, you keep sliding further up on the bed until your head reaches the headboard. He stops for a moment, turning the two of you around so you’re on top, one hand on his chest, the other holding onto the headboard and you barely get situated before his hands grab onto your hips and he starts thrusting up into you, doing the job himself instead of making you ride him.

“Fuck! You’re so good, Harry! I’m so close!”

“Want to cum, baby? You think you deserve it?” he teases you, a few curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, his whole body glistening in the dim lighting.

“Yes! Please, let me cum!” you beg, your eyes meeting his and an animalistic growl erupts from his chest. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you, caging you in them as one of his hands comes to your lower back, guiding you, hinting that he wants you to finish it.

“Ride my cock and make yourself cum, Y/N. Come on, I want to see you using me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as you start moving your hips, arms clinging onto his broad shoulders. His face is buried in your neck and chest, kissing you wherever he can reach. Though you love the shirt on him, you want to feel him fully naked, so you tug at the fabric and he is quick to rid himself from it, his naked, toned arms wrapping back around you as you relentlessly ride him, feeling your orgasm building up and nearing.

“My girl is using my cock so well, look at that. You like it? You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you nod eagerly and craning your neck you capture his lips just when you feel the end nearing. “Can I cum? Please, Harry, I want to cum so badly!” you beg to him against his parted lips, your breathing mixing together.

“Yes. Do it! Cum all over my cock, baby!”

That’s all you need to explode, pleasure washing over your entire body like a tsunami and you scream his name, your walls tightening around him which brings him over the edge as well. He cums inside you, filling you up so well you’re sure it’s gonna be dripping out of you very soon. He is gasping and panting against your chest, his breathing warming your already heated skin.

You stay like that coming off your high, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, ass, hips and back, lips peppering soft kisses onto your collarbones. When he moves the two of you, laying you to the bed you grunt as he slips out of you, leaving you so empty, already aching to feel him inside you again even though you’re completely ruined at this point.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your lips softly before getting up from the bed and disappearing in the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and he carefully cleans you up, but you don’t miss the smug grin on his face when he sees just how good he fucked you, his semen dripping out of your now sensitive cunt.

“Like what you see?” you chuckle tiredly.

“I sure do. Love to see my girl full of me.”

“And you’re full of yourself,” you scoff, but reach for him to pull him down for another kiss. “I have to get up to pee, but I’m so tired.”

“We also should have a shower,” he smiles, pecking the tip of your nose. He reaches under you and easily picks you up into his arms bridal style and you have no idea how he has the energy to carry you to the bathroom after a show and the way he just fucked you. You stood at the backstage the whole time and only rode him at the end and you’re still completely sent.

He carefully sets you down to the toilet and you do your business without a care as he starts the water in the shower, grabbing two towels for you. When you’re finished, he helps you into the spacious walk in shower so you don’t slip and then insists to soap and wash you, taking good care of you. And just like that, he is back to caring boyfriend mode.

And you just love all versions of him.

Bust (sculptor!harry) Masterlist

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

“I, um… thank you.”

He was even more confused. “For what?”

She blinked, shivering when the cold breeze got to her, “For what you said back there.”

He easily glanced right over her head, down the hill at the little coffee shop, wondering what had happened to Rose and why Y/N was alone now.

She took a deep breath and got his attention again, “I uh… to be honest,” she stared at her feet, trying not to distract her train of thought by his lack of shoes, “when I first saw your sculptures they made me feel… seen. If that makes any sense at all.”

Part One: Chisel 

Part Two: Etch 

Part Three: Carve 

Part Four: Mold

Part Five: Blaze

info about this story: this idea came about because I was watching a lot of sculpting videos on youtube at one time. And so, if you’d like to have more of a visual of the type of things I imagine them creating in this story I would check out Ace of Clay or Tina Yu on Youtube! I’m not a sculptor nor am I super knowledgeable in it, so I apologize if I get details wrong. This story also deals with standards of beauty and includes a plus-sized Y/N.

Harry likes his hair played with.

Y/N loves Harry’s hair.

Like, really... really loves it.

It’s gotten to a certain length in which it’s not super curly anymore, but there’s still a slight wave to it, and Y/N loves it.

She runs her fingers through it whenever she can, and she’s even gone as far as to making it her job to wash his hair when they shower together.

“I can wash my own hair, lovie,” Harry chuckles, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist as she works the shampoo into a lather on his scalp.

“I know,” she smiles, “but I like doing it for you... so, hush.” She playfully sticks her tongue out at him, making him chuckle again, and close his eyes as he enjoys the head massage Y/N throws in while giving his hair a good wash.

She reminisces on the nice memory as she’s sat on the couch with Harry, her left leg propped up while her right is bent, sort of in a criss-cross fashion (if her left leg were crossed as well) and her fingers — of course — tangled in Harry’s hair. Her nails scrape across his scalp, making him purr almost at the sensation, and she bops him on the nose with her free hand.

“That feels nice; like my own personal ASMR.” His voice is almost slurred, practically in a trance from the soothing stimulus. “Don’t stop.”

“Are we still talking about me playing with your hair?” Y/N jokes.

Harry juts her in the side with his elbow softly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nothing but a filthy mind, aren’t ya? I’m sitting here enjoying a nice scalp massage, and you turned it dirty.”

“I learned from the best.” She pulls her hands from his hair to reach for her phone, earning her a low whine from Harry.

“Nuh-uh,” he pleads. “Keep going.” He grabs her wrists and leads her hands back to his hair, placing her fingers poised up on their tips on his scalp. She doesn’t budge, knowing Harry will get whiny soon, and she likes to see that. He lets out a child-like plea, begging for her to continue what she was doing earlier, and it makes Y/N giggle. “Baby...” He takes it upon himself to move her fingers for her, although not being satisfied with the result. “I want you to do it.”

She gives in, moving her fingers at her own will in small, circular motions to appease her boyfriend. “Spoiled,” she teases.

“M’no’ spoiled.” Y/N yanks at his hair — a bit firmly — and Harry groans. “Okay, maybe I am a li’l.”

“A lot.” She twirls a piece of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “I’ve been doing this for half an hour.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it. I know you do.”

“Whatever.” She yanks at his hair again, giggling.

“I’d play with your hair too, but you never let me.” A pout appears on his lips, as well as a frown-y expression making his eyebrows pinch together.

“Because my hair gets frizzy if you play with it when it’s dry!”

“I could play with it in the mornings before you shower.”

Y/N hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, my God, you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Y/N pulls her hands from his hair once more, making him gasp and lay his head in her lap. “No, I’m sorry!” He places her hands back in his hair, his hands atop hers, and their fingers linked together. “Please, keep going.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, put on the newest season of Stranger Things. I know you didn’t watch it because when I brought up the Mind Flayer, you didn’t know what I was taking about.”

Harry would do anything if it meant Y/N could play with his hair forever.

Does the other angels and demons ever find out whats going on between them?? And what happens if they do??

I feel like if any demons found out, they wouldn’t give Harry shit for it. Quite the opposite, actually. Praising him and giving him pats on the back and, “Got yourself a tight little celestial being now, don’t you?”

And with angels, Y/N manages to keep it under wraps so that no one finds out but like imagine Niall coming down to check on her so they pretend not to get along but when she goes to make Niall some tea while he waits in her room, Harry casually comes up behind her and grips at her hips, pushing her forward against the kitchen counter and gluing his mouth to her neck, sucking at her pulse nonchalantly as she squirms out of his grasp.

“Stop it!” She hisses, covering the light bruise on her throat with annoyed concern. “What if he sees?!”

Harry shrugs his shoulders leisurely, having too much fun with the rise he’s getting, and reaches forward, taking a sip from the mug meant for Niall. He puts it back into her hands, licking across his flushed lips as the corners twitch upwards with smug amusement.

“Then he could join, if he’d like.”

For the anon who wanted one in which Harry is obsessed with Y/N’s chubby cheeks!

Harry couldn’t stop touching Y/N’s face.

He loved running his fingers along her jaw, tracing it along it before pinching her cheek, squeezing the puffiness of it between his thumb and index. He loves that she had big cheeks (or chubby as she called them) and not slender, caved-in ones that girls on magazines had. Loves that her jawline had a bit of plushiness to it, cupping her cheeks with both hands and squishing them together so that she looked like a fish.

“Harry, m’tryna eat.”, she muffles through a mouthful of cereal. This was a normal morning for them; her sitting at the kitchen island (she was very happy she could afford an apartment with an island in the kitchen, she thinks they are very useful and just tie the room together) as Harry stood next to her, playing with her cheeks as she ate. He thought they were cute all the time but especially when she was eating. They looked extra puffy around mouthfuls of food, the chewing motion exciting him immensely.

“I’m not stopping you.” He massages his palms over her cheeks, rubbing in circles as he flattens out his hands. A bit of milk sputters out of her mouth, dribbling down her chin.

“I’m not stopping you”, she mimics him, although smiling as it drips down onto her breasts, the valley of them showing between her robe since it wasn’t closed all the way. She reaches for the tissue roll, about to rip one off as Harry reaches around the counter.

“I’ll get it.” He dips his head, licking right between her breasts and cleaning her up of the spilt milk. Y/N yelps, instinctively pushing her breasts together as she arches her back, squeezing his face between her tits and making him laugh. “I quite like it in here.”, his voice muffled.

Y/N giggles, pulling him by his hair so his face was level with hers again so she can kiss him. Gentle smacks are heard between little breaks in the kiss, her lips sticky from the milk. Harry can’t help himself, kissing the corners of her mouth before moving to her cheek, softly biting it and turning his head back and forth as if he were a dog with a chew-toy.

“Okay, okay, enough of that.” She stifles a laugh as Harry becomes pouty after removing his mouth from her, sitting in the seat next to her and slouching dramatically. “Budge up, eat some breakfast.”

Grabbing her cheek, he pinches it between his fingers. “I’d rather eat something else.”

Y/N flushes.

1 :)

Hope you enjoy! xxx ☀️

Prompt: “Wait…is that my shirt?!” 

[10] It nearly threw off his breathing.

It nearly threw off his breathing.

So naturally he thinks he’s seeing things.

That maybe he hasn’t rubbed his eyes enough times that morning. But if he hadn’t he was glad he hadn’t because he much prefers this sight than the real one.

She’s just brushing her teeth, it’s almost noon and they’ve overslept. And he’s making her late again.  He never apologizes either. Her being late works in his favor and she doesn’t seem to learn from it either. How easy it is for him to persuade her and how bad she is at standing her ground about leaving.

He doesn’t think any of it is his fault either. So when he’s got her tucked back into his side and the duvet over them he smirks against her skin. And she sighs deeply, annoyed at him but more so at herself. And she’s nearly ready to swat at him when he points out that if she wanted to leave she would. She just doesn’t admit to any of it, that she wants to stay here with him. ‘Door’s unlocked and everything.’ He whispered teasingly but she does nothing but stay. She’s still here, not moving anywhere. And he’s already hovering over her again, kissing down her body and she’s letting him do all of it.

He watches her from the door frame after and if he wasn’t fully, entirely obsessed with her before he was then. She catches his reflection in the mirror along with hers and she rolls her eyes. He’s always staring at her and watching her do the simplest things and she doesn’t get it. ‘Stop that.’ She’d laugh.

But she does the exact same thing when she thinks he’s not looking and she can’t explain why she does it. She likes watching him get dressed just as much as she likes watching him talk on the phone. She likes being around for all the simple tasks he does that she’s become entangled in. And he likes having her around, spending the morning with her before the day takes over. So if it’s watching her brush her teeth or brush through her hair than it’s that.

Because she’s doing all that here, and beside him. And slowly without them really noticing their  morning routines mix together and complete each others.

He points to what she’s got on with a smirk, which isn’t much at all, just his shirt from last night and nothing else.

“Is that mine?”

“I don’t really know where everything else of mine went,” she shrugs before putting her hair up. “My clothes particularly.” She grins walking past him to her phone left on his charger she’s borrowed.

They both know her clothes are scattered across the house, from the front door to the staircase because Harry has impatient hands and she keeps testing him. He pulls her to him before she manages another step away from him. “You’re never getting them back.” He whispers.

He isn’t above hiding her clothes each time she’s here. Just so she can slip into one of his shirts. He won’t mind it either if he’s got no shirts left and they’re all with her.

And he knows she’s leaving soon, she’s getting ready and she’s collecting her things. And he can’t have that. He’s not ready for her to go yet. He needs five more minutes, ten more minutes…an hour more. Because it doesn’t mater that she promised she’d be back later tonight. That’s too far away from now.

So he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder and back onto his bead.

“Are you serious!” She shrieks. “I’m already two hours late! And you’ve had enough of me, times up!”

He isn’t a fan of the idea that he doesn’t get to have her for the entire day. That there’s a time where he will have to say bye to her. That she has to go, continue her day without him. That he isn’t in all the hours of her day. So he pouts as he hovers over her and pins her hands above her head. ‘No.’ He whispers.

They’re very new. And they still haven’t figured out all of what this is. What’s what, what’s next and what they are. But he likes her here and she likes being here.

She does manage to wiggle out of his hold eventually, an hour or two later when she’s already much too late. Her neat hair is no longer neat and she’s much too tired to get up for anything. And so he wins again, she doesn’t have a reason to leave anymore. And she promises that next time she will leave right when she wakes up and he just nods against her shoulder, not listening to a word.

love at coachella

Description - a journey of the moments that built up to Coachella

A/N - this is a fic dedicated to the monumental moment of harry performing at coachella. i’m so proud and happy for him - he owns the world <3

warnings : smut (only in last entry), swearing, angst

17th June 2020

The call came at 2 A.M. in the morning.

Your head was safely tucked into Harry’s neck as you both slept soundly. Harry’s head rested on top of yours and his tattooed arm cradled you into his side, pulling you as close as comfortably possible. 

“H.” You said softly, the letter barely coming out of your mouth from the morning gruffness. 

You pushed him with the hand on his chest, trying to wake him up from the deep sleep he was clearly in. The touch of your cold hand on his warm chest was enough to wake him up.

“Hmm?” He spoke, clearly confused, before hearing the ring of his phone from the bedside table. “Fuck sake.” He groaned, removing his arm from around you to twist his body over and reach for his phone. 

He lay back down in bed, scooping his arm around you to pull you back onto his chest. He liked having you near him at all times, not having any issues with personal space. If you were sat on a sofa watching a movie together, you were practically sat on top of one another. If you were sat at dinner together, you always sat on the same side of the table. If you were waiting in a queue somewhere, you’d always be within millimetres of one another. You hated space when it came to being with one another. 

“’Lo?” Harry grumbled, his morning voice causing instant butterflies in your stomach.

Keep reading

Meus Amor (Hogwarts!Harry)

(Banner by the lovely @pretty-hazza)

***

Series Masterlist

***

Platform 9 ¾ feels gloomier this year, at least that’s how Harry seems to find it. The worried looks on parents’ faces as they watch their children board the train makes him uneasy, especially when he hears their crude whispers and spiteful glares when he walks past them. “That’s the Styles boy, you want to steer clear of him,” they say as though he isn’t only meters away from where they stand. He chooses to ignore it though, at least that way he can pretend that he isn’t the son of a fucking wanted criminal. 

Keep reading

In Return - Harry Styles

a/n: i just really wanted to write something with cockwarming and… this is that. that’s all, just a short fic to get it off my mind lmao

warning: cockwarming and sex ofc

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

“Pretty please! I’m begging you!”

Following Harry into the kitchen you pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes as he moves around, trying to ignore you, but he miserably fails, especially when he glances at you and sees your pouty look that’s all for him. He can never resist it, you know that and use it against him pretty often.

“Why are you so obsessed with it anyway?” he asks sighing.

“Because I’m dying to see you with a good, smudged smoky-eye look, just like the rest of the world!” you stomp your foot against the checkered tile. You’ve been trying to get him to let you do his makeup for the longest time, but you just saw an edited picture of him floating around the internet where someone put dark eyeshadow on him and he looked so damn hot, you just have to see it for real.

“What do I get in return?” he cockily smirks at you, tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t know, what do you want?” you shrug. You watch him think for a little before his grin widens.

Keep reading

Sleepover

A little less than 1.5k words of pure fluff on a sleepover.

You woke up in front of the TV, yawning as you sat up.

The end credits of some movie were rolling on screen, and Harry was behind you, fast asleep. Untangling yourself from him as gently as you could, you started cleaning up, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table and walking into the kitchen to slide it onto the counter. When you walked back in, remote in hand to shut off the TV, Harry was awake and yawning.

“Exciting film, hm?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Absolutely riveting,” you agreed, sitting down next to him. You stretched your hands towards the ceiling, leaning back against the arm of the couch as you bit your lip and looked around the room.

“I’m worried,” Harry murmured with a smile. “You have your thinking face on.”

“You should be,” you replied. “It’s quite painful.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

A moment of silence, and then, “What do you say to a sleepover?” you asked.

Harry raised a brow. “As opposed to sleeping in my own home in Holmes Chapel?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “No, no, I mean… I mean, like, a makeover night.”

“Should I be insulted?”

You groaned, gently kicking at his foot. “You’re being difficult, Styles.”

“It’s a talent of mine,” Harry said, but he shrugged, placing the bottle on the coffee table and stretching his arms to the ceiling. “I guess. As long as you don’t do the cucumbers. I don’t have the self control for that, and I hardly think you’d fancy seeing my gecko impression.”

“Well, now I have to see what that’s about,” you laughed.

Harry grinned and stood up. “Right, then, shall we? What’re you thinking? Nail varnish? Face masks? The works?” You nodded, pointing in the general direction of where you thought the supplies would be. “Yeah, you check in there for that stuff, and I’ll see if we have any cucumbers… Think your gecko impression would be the same with pickles?”

“I doubt it,” Harry replied with a grimace. “Maybe a puking gecko, but I’m not sure…”

You giggled, heading for the kitchen. “Cucumbers it is!”

Thankfully, you found them, and once you’d chopped some up and put them in a bowl, you walked back into the living room. There, Harry had set up a wonderful display of the various face masks and nail polishes he’d found throughout the apartment.

“Wow,” you said as you sat down next to him on the floor. “I’m impressed.”

“Just wait ‘till you see my manicure skills,” Harry replied with a grin.

“Ooh, big talk.”

“Doubt me, do you?” Harry asked, feigning hurt as he put a hand to his chest. “Come on, then, I’ll show you…” He uncapped a bottle of nail polish and took your hand, setting the bottle on the floor.

He started painting your nail, and you couldn’t help but smile at his focus. His lip was between his teeth, his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched as he concentrated on your fingers. A curl had slipped over his forehead, and you gently tucked it back into place.

He looked up, then, and noticed your fond smile. “What?” he asked, a self conscious smile taking over his own face. “You’re looking at me funny.” You shook your head, embarrassed despite yourself, and said, “Nothing. Just, uh - you forgot the face masks, mister professional.”

“Christ, it’s not my fault!” Harry scoffed, grinning at you. “It’s a challenge, love - earn double points if you can do it one handed.” You raised a brow, grabbing for the package. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you asked, lifting the hand he was holding.

“There you have it, then,” Harry said with a smile. “Good luck!”

“Gee, thanks, Styles,” you laughed, using our teeth to rip open the seal. It was some sort of paper one, and it smelled like strawberries. It stuck to itself as you flapped it to open it up, and you frowned, glancing at Harry.

He wasn’t paying attention, still hard at work.

Softly, you laughed again, and tried to maneuver it onto your face.

Once he’d finished your one hand - that’s what you’d guessed, at least, you were keeping your face towards the ceiling so the mask wouldn’t fall off as you tried to get it to stick - he looked up, and then he laughed at you.

“You look bloody ridiculous!” he cackled, and you scoffed, looking down at him, and it fell off. “It’s not my fault,” you whined, “you’re not helping me!” Harry sighed, smiling as he shook his head, and set down the nail polish brush to help you.

He’d gotten some color on his fingers, though, and when he got it on and you looked at your reflection in the dark TV, there was green color all over the white paper mask. “You look like you’ve got the chickenpox or summat,” Harry snickered, and you giggled, shaking your head. “Chickenpox is red, idiot.”

“So you’re special,” Harry amended, leaning in to kiss you. Then he spluttered, tasting the mask, and shook his head. “This is why I didn’t want the mask on,” he told you, and you grinned, nudging his knee with your own. “Chickenpox is contagious, anyway.”

“Not if I’ve already had it!”

You shrugged. “Yeah, well, green chickenpox is different.”

“Glad to know my girlfriend’s a green chickenpox expert,” Harry said. “Now let me see your other hand… what are we thinking… purple, maybe?” You raised a brow. “Purple and green? What are you going for? Barney?”

Harry laughed, his face lighting up. “I was going for eggplant! But Barney’s much better.”

“Oh, wonderful,” you replied, inspecting your left hand as he started on your right. “Not too bad, actually,” you murmured, and Harry looked up for a moment. “What did I say? I missed my calling, love, swear it.”

“There’s no doubt about it,” you laughed.

He finished your hand and sat back, admiring his work. “You know, I’m thinking maybe we’re made a mistake,” he said after a second, and you frowned. “What?” you asked. He looked up, and said, “I’m not sure how my nails are going to look if you’re painting them with wet nails yourself…”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Can’t believe you’d doubt me. Your nails will look just fine, H, don’t you worry,” you assured him. “But put on your facial mask first! And cucumbers! Lemme see this gecko impression of yours.”

“Oh, Christ, I forget about that,” Harry said as you handed him the bowl. “C’mon, Styles, can’t disappoint now!” you replied excitedly, and Harry smiled, putting on the mask expertly and then placing two cucumbers on his eyes.

You were already giggling, and he was too, and the cucumbers kept slipping because of how widely he was smiling. “Shush!” he laughed, glaring at you mockingly. “I can’t concentrate!” You held back your laughter, putting a hand over your mouth.

Finally, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing, he got the cucumbers in place. Then, as he moved his face, the cucumber slowly made its way to his cheek, and he grabbed it with his tongue. Crunching on it victoriously as you cracked up in laughter, he looked back at you, catching the other cucumber as it fell.

“Impressive, huh?” he asked, and you fell back against the couch as you laughed. “You really did look like a gecko!” you exclaimed, and Harry leaned into you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Wanna see what else this tongue can do?”

You only laughed harder, close to tears, and Harry scoffed, sitting back. “What, do my charms not work any more?” he asked, and you shook your head, still laughing “I can’t take you seriously in that mask!” you gasped. “You look like a ghost!”

Harry pouted, sitting back. “A cute ghost?” he asked, and your laughter faded to a smile as you gently tapped his cheek. “A very cute ghost,” you said with a nod. Harry grinned. “Right, well, you look like Scrooge.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding… Maybe Casper,” he said.

“Yeah, well, these nails look like a two year old did them,” you said back, sticking your tongue out at him. Harry pouted again, crossing his arms across his chest. “Yeah, well, you look like a two year old!”

“Yeah, ‘cause of these nails!”

Harry laughed, shaking his head, and pulled you close. “You wanna know how much I love you?” he asked softly. “Hm?” you said. “I love you so much,” he whispered, “I’m gonna kiss you with these masks on.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” you giggled.

Harry smiled, and kissed you. “Sure is.”

***

and there's that :)

Hope you liked it!!! If you did, a reblog and some feedback would be v much appreciated <333

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