Harry Styles Imagines Novels & Stories

Harry had made him wear a black crop top that exposed his flat tummy and high waisted black jeans that accentuated the curve of his waist and hips. His face was bare save for the pink lip gloss and the thin eyeliner which Harry insisted will make his pretty features pop out. While he looked good, this didn't feel like him at all. The omega preferred his comfortable hoodies and sweats. Standing amidst the people in this club, he felt exposed. Harry nudged his shoulder. "You should loosen up and dance!" Simon frowned at him. "But we're here for—" "I know," Harry said, touching his shoulder. "Dance and you'll find whatever you're looking for."

Harry: It'll be fun Me: I don't think so Harry: You'll like it Me: Really? Harry: Yes. Just imagine that I'm there. Harry: Imagine it's me that touches you. I don't want to imagine it, I want him here. Harry: Just do it, I'll be waiting for you Me: I can't Harry: Of course you can. Harry: Just open your legs, stick your hand up your panties and start touching you. It's not that hard. How can he say it like that? With such fluidity and boldness.

Two hours passed and Harriet is ready to bring down this beauty palace. "What the hell did you do to my hair? Where are my edges? This looks horrible." She screamed, tugging at the extreme end of the black silly weavon. "You said you wanted a style that will cover the baldness of your front hair." The fair-skinned stylist raised her hands in gesticulation. "It is your entire head that will be bald." Harriet spat with nose flared in anger and irritation. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I just did what you told me to do." The stylist frowned.

DARIUS' POV "Well, well," his smooth voice said. I turned around slowly to face Harry who was standing in the doorway. He looked immaculate as always in tailored clothes that probably cost more than most pack members made in a month. His blonde hair was artfully styled. There was a strange false concern etched into his big bright blue eyes. He looked like an angel. But Harry? He acted like the devil. "I heard there was some excitement today. Came to see the damage for myself."

“Harry.” “Tell me that you’re glad to see me,” Harry’s appearance was, as always, dramatically beautiful. Tall, lean, broad shouldered, and dressed with an effortless elegance that Meguitte could never reproduce, their hair was a waist length, silky straight dyed golden curtain. From behind she might have mistaken Harry for Talen, though Talen had not worn his hair that length since his time in Alden whilst he had been grieving Gera, and Talen tended more to denim and flannelette than designer wear.

I stayed up until one in the morning, reading more and more since I've already dug up some dirt about him. Benedict Edward Rose Styles. Twenty-five years old. Fuckingly wealthy. He got a headline the day when the world found out he was the first born of Harry Styles from a one night stand. Mr. Harry Styles used to belong to an insanely famous boyband years ago called One Direction, later he turned to be a ridiculously filthy rich businessman. His mother, Miranda Rose Styles, at first kept him in secret for seven years from Harry and the entire world since she wasn't ready to tell everyone about him. Mrs. Styles was also married to her ex-husband Louis Tomlinson which was Harry Styles' best f