crossyourmindrights

[crossyourmindrights]

camping [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry and Y/N leave the air base to go on a camping trip in July and their feelings are all over the place.

word count: 13.2k (!?)

contains: friends to lovers, opposites attract, violence, nightmares, flirting, smoking, fluff, smut (breeding kink, size kink, she's on top, cockwarming *if you squint*), forced proximity

this is part 2 of the aviator, you can read part 1 here

. . .

“Leave me alone Harry!” Y/N stormed several paces in front of him, hugging her arms around herself to try and keep herself warm. 

“Birdy, c’mon now, it’s not what y’ think it is.” Harry kept his distance behind her but had been following her home since she stormed off after she’d caught him with her housemate, Nancy. 

“Quit calling me that! And will you stop following me?” She spun round and he immediately froze in his steps. 

“Promised I’d walk y’ home,” He shrugged, “Not gonna let y’ walk home in the dark alone.”

“I’d probably be better off,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms.

“Will y’ let me explain?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but he carried on talking, “I won’t quit following y’ if that’s what y’ gonna say and the view of the back of y’ head is just as pretty as the front so there’s no way y’ gonna stop me. I just… Will you let me explain? Please?” 

Y/N scoffs like she can’t believe what she’s hearing right now. What would it take for him to take a message and leave her be? “You’re not used to hearing the word no are you?” 

“I respect it but doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. God, especially not with you.” Every part of him seemed serious. Y/N’s shoulders dropped and he took it as a sign to continue, “Me and Nancy we have history tha’s for sure,” He started and the words made Y/N’s chest ache, “But we only slept together a couple times before Christmas tha’s all. She came out and found me smoking and I realised she was a ‘lil drunk. I tried to pull her off me but she wasn’t having it, said she saw me outside with y’ and got upset.”

Y/N frowned, unsure of whether to believe him or not, “Listen, I know you’ve heard things about me but-” He dug his heel into the ground and chuckled lightly, “I ain’t ever felt the way I did back there when I kissed y’ Y/N and I’m not jus’ saying that.” 

Y/N felt some of the anger dissipate from her body, replaced by pure frustration. She hadn't come to Offutt to get tangled up in a mess with a man she barely knew, yet here she was. Nancy's revelation about having her sights set on a man hit Y/N like a ton of bricks. If she had known it was Harry, she might never have kissed him in the first place. She hardly knew Harry beyond their brief interactions and the hearsay from her housemates. How could she trust him? Yet, despite her doubts, there was one undeniable truth: the kiss they had shared lingered vividly in her mind. The taste of peppermint and cigarettes still clung to her lips, a tangible reminder of their brief encounter. It was a moment that now intertwined her with him in a way she wasn't expecting.

Y/N huffed, “And what? I’m just meant to believe you now. Take your word for it and run into your arms and kiss you again?”

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Harry smiled, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. 

Y/N shook her head, trying to process everything Harry had just said. Despite her frustration and confusion, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. She knew deep down that she couldn't deny the chemistry they shared during that kiss, but she also couldn't ignore the uncertainty punching at her gut. 

"Harry, I... I don't know what to think," Y/N admitted, her voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "I want to trust you, but it's hard after everything that's happened and what’s been said. I-I don’t know you that well is all."

Harry stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I understand, Birdy. And I don't expect you to trust me blindly. But hey maybe we could start as friends, get to know each other better before anything else, if that would make y' comfortable."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, considering his suggestion. The idea of starting as friends seemed more sensible, given the circumstances. "Friends?"

"Yeah, friends," Harry confirmed a hopeful glint in his eyes. "No expectations, just getting to know each other without any pressure."

Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, I like that idea.” 

Harry grinned, relieved that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. "Well, you need more of ‘em.”

Y/N’s smile disappeared, “I do not! I have plenty of friends.”

“The girls at the nursery don’t count,” Harry smirks, “And neither does Elise.”

“Whatever,” Y/N muttered, spinning on her heel to continue her journey home. She heard Harry’s footsteps jogging up to meet her and was surprised to feel his jacket being placed over her shoulders. 

Harry put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Y/N’s heart stuttered, “Friends don’t do that you know.” She grumbled, pretending to act grumpy around him in hopes it would hide the fact that she was most definitely swooning inside. 

“Oh? I do it with my friends all the time. Sometimes I kiss them on the lips too, we can try if y’ want-” Y/N looked up at him, glaring, “Alright then, another time.”

Y/N let Harry walk her the remainder of the way home, feeling a little more at peace with the fact she would be welcoming him into her life, even if it was just as friends for now. She hoped it would be enough to get to know him and eventually, she’d trust him enough to allow their relationship to blossom into something more and hopefully sometime soon because when Harry had left her on the doorstep of her house, she knew she’d be dreaming of that kiss every time she looked at him. 

Y/N closed the door as gently as she could, pressing her forehead against the wooden frame. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before walking into the kitchen where Nancy was standing, “How’d you get home so quickly?” Y/N asked, unable to meet her hard stare.

“Harry must have taken you the long way home.” She shrugged pushing her chair back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the tiled ground.

“I-I didn’t know Harry was the guy you were talking about Nancy,” Y/N said truthfully.

“Would it have made any difference?” Nancy asked, a bite to her tone.

Y/N sighed, “All this was never my decision. Harry asked me to the dance, I-I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal.” 

“Harry loves attention from any girl who bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair.” Nancy glared, “You don’t make the exception.” 

Y/N straightened her shoulders, “What if I do?” She wasn’t going to allow herself to be belittled by another woman over a man she had just met.

Nancy snickered, “Are you that entitled?”

“Harry’s smart enough to make his own decisions Nancy and I’m not going to be involved in whatever petty game you think this is. Not only is it up to him to decide who he likes but it’s my decision too and if he’s not with anybody then I can decide whether I should be allowed to get to know him or not.” Y/N declared.

Nancy narrowed her eyes, “I’m not trying to compete with you but I’d be careful if I were you. If you’re planning on standing so close to the fire prepared to get burnt. Those Styles boys have their things going on. Harry hasn't the faintest idea of what to do with a girl outside of the bedroom. I've known him long enough for that.” 

“Maybe you don’t know him that well.” 

“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me all about it when you realise he’s not all he says he is.” 

“Why do you want him if you have no faith in him?” Y/N asked.

“I said I had my eye on him, not that I planned on settling down with him. Every girl wants to sleep with him and not only because he’s Offutt’s best pilot, he’s the only man who knows what he’s doing.” Nancy stands from her chair, “I won’t compete but I don’t particularly enjoy being proven wrong.” She moved past her, leaving Y/N standing in the kitchen. 

. . . 

As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Y/N and Harry's friendship seemed to blossom with the seasons. They had developed a type of bond that neither of them had with anybody else and through it they learnt more about themselves and each other. Ever since the night they began their relationship, there was never a moment where Y/N wasn’t seen with the brunette aviator walking beside her. 

Even Harry’s brothers had come to enjoy Y/N's company. Somehow she had taken on this maternal presence within their family dynamic that none of the siblings had ever really had before. Sonny had taken a particular liking to having Y/N around, enjoying the free time he had now that Y/N would sometimes volunteer to put Elise to bed in the evenings. 

Along with Harry’s brothers, also came Y/N’s housemates Molly and Patsy. She had become good friends with them too in the last few months and now she finally had her own little girl group to hang out with (they’d often include Elise in that group too). 

The group had become their own little, dysfunctional family on Offutt. 

Even though their friendship was meant to be the start of something more, Y/N and Harry hadn’t spoken much about that night at the dance since it had happened. Even with Harry’s flirtatious teasing from time to time, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something had happened between them like this friendship had created a strange liminal space between them that held so many questions. She loved the current dynamic - the comfort everyone shared, even amidst their occasional bickering. It made her wonder if this was how it was supposed to be, and perhaps Harry thought so too.

However, her feelings for Harry continued to grow stronger with every passing day. She would dream of the kiss they shared and wake up with a strong ache in her chest at the idea that it would never happen again. Every day she tried to coax herself into talking to him about how she felt and every day she’d get distracted or put off by doubts and the voice in the back of her head warning her, telling her enough time had passed that maybe Harry didn’t have feelings for her anymore which is why he never bought them up. 

It was July now and the girls were sitting eating breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N was nibbling on a piece of slightly burnt toast as Molly rambled on about how busy her day was going to be down at the hairdresser with her hair rollers still in her hair. 

Opposite Y/N at the table sat Nancy, who had hardly spoken since waking up. She was dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly curled, and her uniform immaculately pressed. The tension between the two girls lingered from the dance night. It was clear Nancy was prepared to do anything for Harry's attention, even if he didn't see it. While Nancy seemed distant, Y/N tried to keep things friendly, despite the awkwardness between them. They had to live with each other after all. 

Y/N had seen Nancy and Harry alone together a few times and even if it filled her with an insatiable amount of jealousy, she wouldn’t allow herself to get involved with whatever went on between them. This wasn’t a competition she was taking part in, her feelings were her own and so were Nancy's. What mattered was her own relationship with Harry because it had slowly become the most important thing in her life. 

The front door burst open, Sonny’s voice boomed down the hallway, “Good morning ladies!” 

“Is anyone ever going to teach those boys how to knock?” Molly grumbled, standing from the table to lean against the kitchen counter, “I oughta start locking that front door before I go to bed.”

Y/N looked down to hide her smile as three grown men, dressed in overalls and white t-shirts walked into the room, one of them holding the small toddler in his arms. “Give me the baby!” Patsy launched from her chair and reached for Elise, smothering the girl in kisses. 

“Can I have a turn, Patsy?” Sonny asked, batting his eyelashes playfully. 

“You wish,” Patsy glared. 

“Morning Nancy,” George grinned, only to receive a curt nod in return, “Good morning George, y’ sure are looking mighty fine in tha’ uniform of yours,”  George remarked, his voice slightly mocking, delivered in a high pitch to tease her. 

Nancy stood from her seat, glaring up at the tall brother in front of her, “Good morning George, do you mind getting out of my way? I’ve got work to do, unlike some people.” 

“How could y’ say that? I’m always working,” He argued.

“Cigarettes and arm wrestling during work hours do not count as working.” Nancy picked her bag up from under her chair. 

“Know y’ like watching though darlin’.” He smirked and Nancy scoffed, shoving past him and leaving the house. 

“Y’ oughta be careful with that one George,” Molly smirked, taking out a cigarette and offering one to him.

“She’s all good,” He shrugged, his eyes on the seat Nancy had been sitting in.

Y/N’s smile dropped when someone snatched the piece of toast she was eating from her hand. She looked up and was met with green eyes looking down at her, a lazy grin on the face she saw every day, “Hi birdy,” His voice was always deeper than usual in the mornings 

“Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned. 

He grabbed the empty chair that Nancy had been sitting in and lifted it from the tiled floor to sit next to her. His eyes flitted around her face, and the corner of his lips turned upwards, “You’ve got jam-” He reached his thumb out and wiped away the jam from the corner of her lips. Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink, “There y’ go.”

“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, looking away from his intense gaze. 

“No problem,” He smirked, “Y’ look beautiful by the way.”

Harry said the same thing almost every morning and Y/N never failed to blush whenever he told her the compliment. “I only woke up thirty minutes ago, I haven’t even run a brush through my hair.”

“And you still look beautiful. It’s unfair birdy, truly it is.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically.

Y/N giggled, “You’re such an idiot.” 

“So what brings you boys here so early? Ran out of food back home?” Molly asked, reaching for Elise since apparently, it was her time to hold her. 

“We’re going off base with some of the guys later to the town to buy camping gear for the trip,” Sonny explained, taking a sip of black coffee from Patsy’s mug. 

“What happened to the stuff from last year?” Molly quirked a brow, “It was perfectly fine when we left it.”

Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and mindlessly played with her fingers as people spoke. George shrugs, “There’s more of us going this year so either way we need more tents.”

"What are you talking about?" She asked, turning to Harry for an explanation.

All eyes turned to her, then to Harry, their expressions puzzled. George's frown deepened. "You never told her?"

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on Harry, waiting for his response as he dropped her hand onto his lap.

"Every year on the last week of July, a huge group of us go camping down at Harpers Lake," Sonny explained. "It's a five-hour hike, and we camp out for two nights. We're all going this year, and we thought Harry over there already told you about it, but clearly he didn't."

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought Molly would have told you," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Y/N's eyes darted around at everyone's faces as they looked at her expectantly, "I-I don't know if I'll get time off at the nursery," Y/N stuttered, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her.

"Hey, I'm sure someone'll cover for you," Harry reassured her with a shrug. "If you don't go, I won't go either."

"Harry," she huffed, unable to resist the warmth in his eyes. "What about Elise? Who will take care of her?"

"Elise is coming, of course," Sonny piped in. "You think the Styles go anywhere without each other?"

Y/N glanced at Harry, her heart softening at his earnest expression. He gently picked up her hand again, squeezing her fingers lightly as if to persuade her to come with them. Harry's gaze held hers, his voice soft but determined. "If you’re worried about skipping work, it’ll be fine. We'll figure that out together, Birdy. I promise."

“I hate camping,” Y/N confessed, the corner of his lips quirking.

“But y’ haven’t camped with me yet.” He smirked as if doing anything with him was the solution to everything. 

Y/N’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, fine.” She relented, falling into their persuasion. Though the idea of camping was her worst nightmare, being with Harry off-base seemed to make it bearable. 

Eventually, everyone left to start their day of work. Y/N took Elise into her arms and made her way down to the nursery, “Y/N!” Harry called, she turned and saw him running up to them from down the road. “Y’ not mad at me are you?” 

Y/N frowned, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Y’ know,” He stood straight, scratching the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or about to say something sincere, “Because I didn’t tell you about the camping trip. I was meant to but every time I’m with y’ all the things I plan to say just seem to slip from my mind.” 

Y/N’s face softens, “No I’m not mad at you Harry. I mean, I wish I could have found out sooner, but if you say it’ll be fine, I’ll believe you.”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Y’ believe me huh?” He took a step forward until he stood directly in front of her. 

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the proximity, “Y-yeah, I do.” She murmurs. 

Harry’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Y’ might be the only one.” He whispers his breath minty from the gum he was chewing on. 

His eyes darted to her lips and then back up again. Even though they were outside, Y/N felt the oxygen slipping from the space around her until a tiny, chubby hand swatted Harry’s face out of the way, “No!” Elise yells and starts to ramble. 

Harry’s expression shifted, his features softening with amusement. He grabs Elise’s hand and starts pressing kisses to the inside of her palm, “What do y’ mean no? Y’ don’t like it when I speak to my best friend? ‘S that because you’re my best friend Elise?” Harry teases, pretending to bite her small hand. 

Y/N giggles, “It seems I’m always competing with somebody for your attention.” She jokes but Harry’s smile falters.

“Y’ don’t need to do that,” He murmurs, “Y’ too special to me to do that.” 

Elise carried on rambling as Y/N remained silent, surprised by Harry’s words. That classic, flirtatious grin reappeared once more on Harry's face as he pressed a quick kiss to Elise’s cheek and then Y/N’s too, “I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He said to Elise. 

He walked backwards, eyes fixed on Y/N, “I’ll see both my best girl’s later!” He winked and then turned around. 

“Your brother is stupid,” Y/N said to Elise. 

“Ha, Ha!” Elise pointed at her brother who disappeared around the corner, calling him the name she always called him since she couldn’t say his full name properly yet. 

“Ha Ha indeed,” Y/N sighed, making her way to the nursery. 

. . .

The camping trip had been a tradition in Offutt for the last ten years or so. Harry had been with his brothers ever since he had come to Offutt. He mostly enjoyed it for the fact that he got to spend time away from the Air Base. He didn’t do very much other than smoke cigarettes and maybe sleep with one or two people if he felt like it. 

This time though felt different. Harry had never been this excited about a camping trip before, especially not with Y/N. It had been ages since he anticipated anything, but the thought of spending two entire nights with the girl who had completely transformed his life was exhilarating enough to have him willingly sleeping in a tent out in the wilderness.

They were into the final hour of the hike to Harper’s Lake. The sun was beating down on their faces and Y/N and Harry were way behind the rest of the group. Y/N had been huffing and puffing ever since the halfway point of the trail. It had kept Harry rather amused during what was often a long and boring walk.

Harry walked in front wearing a white vest and cargo trousers, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and a silver dog tag around his neck. Y/N was walking behind him, beating bushes with a big stick as she walked by them. 

“Y’ keep beating up those bushes back there darling and they’ll start shouting back to y’.” Harry smiled to himself as he heard her mumbles. “You dawdling back there?”

“No,” Y/N snaps, “I do not dawdle thank you.” Her feet were slipping. She didn’t have decent shoes to wear and Harry had already had to stop twice to put bandages on both her knees which was probably why they were so behind from the rest of the group.

“Why couldn’t we just fly? You’re a pilot Harry, can’t you go get us a plane?” 

“Y’ want me to get a military plane to fly us to a lake so that y’ don’t have to get all hot and bothered 'cause you’re walking, is that right birdy?” Harry holds back a laugh.

“Well, I don’t see the point in flying planes if you’re not gonna use them.” She mumbles.

Harry stops and turns around to look at her. She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her and shorts on her small legs. He let her borrow his flight cap so she didn’t get sunburnt but it was too big for her head so it covered her eyes. “Are y’ asking for a lift up the hill?” 

Y/N fell silent, her gaze drifting past him to the peak of the hill. She nodded quietly. Harry chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground. Turning around, he squatted and gestured behind him, arms outstretched. "Hop on, birdy."

“Are you sure? What if I'm too heavy.” Y/N says.

“I’m only offering once so I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He teased and waited for her to jump on his back.

He heard her feet tread along the ground before stopping behind him. She put her body weight onto him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Y’ won’t drop me, will you? Because it’s not gonna be funny if you do.”

“Never,” he promised, lifting himself off the ground. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist and he picked up his bag off the floor. “How’s the view up there birdy?”

“Pretty,” she said, her lips close to his ear.

“I bet,” he said to himself before tracking up the hill.

The lake glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by birch and willow trees. Y/N had never seen something so beautiful before as she looked over Harry’s head to see where they’d be staying the next few nights. Her feet hit the floor as Harry released her from his grip. There were around thirty people from the base who had come along on the trip and were already deciding where they were going to set up their camping spots. 

Y/N glanced around to spot her friends only to find them already bickering with each other in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Patsy and Molly were sharing a tent, while Sonny and George were setting up theirs with Elise. Harry had his own tent, and Y/N had bought a separate one as well. “Hey Patsy, have you seen my tent?” Y/N glanced around the floor where everyone had thrown their bags. 

“No, I thought you would have taken it.” Patsy shrugged.

“Me too,” Y/N huffed, looking through her backpack to see if she had packed the small tent she had bought. 

“Have you lost it?” Molly asked. Y/N frantically shoved some of the bags out of the way, hoping to spot it somewhere, until the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.

It was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, five hours away from where they were camping.

“You left it at home?” Sonny burst out laughing, Y/N’s cheeks flushing red. 

“It’s not funny Sonny,” Patsy whacked him on the shoulder, “Where’s she meant to sleep?"

“With me.” A voice spoke, and Y/N turned around to see Harry standing with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes. 

“W-what?” Y/N stuttered as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“Well unless y’ wanna sleep with Elise, Birdy, the only other option is with me.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal that he was offering her to sleep in his one-man tent. 

“I-I can sleep with Elise,” She noticed how no one was saying anything or coming up with other ideas for her sleeping arrangement. She could have sworn she saw her two housemates giggling in the corner of her eye.

"And I could sleep with Elise too, but you know why I don’t?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's because all three of my siblings seem to have inherited a gene that I missed out on. Trust me, Birdy, you don’t wanna sleep in a tent with a snoring swing band the whole night."

Harry reached out and gently tugged her hand, “We’ve slept in the same room before.”

“Yeah but you slept on the floor,” She crossed her arms, trying to think of any other way she could sleep without having to share a small space with the guy she had feelings for. Y/N glanced around at her friends who immediately went about fixing their own tents as if they hadn’t stopped to watch the whole ordeal. She sighed, “Fine.”

Y/N brushed past Harry. He quickly snatched off his hat she was wearing and placed it on his own head, grinning, “It’ll be fun,” 

By the time they had set up the tent, it had dawned on Y/N exactly what she had agreed to. The tent was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, and with Harry's muscular frame, she couldn't fathom how they were meant to sleep without being practically on top of each other.

As Y/N unravelled her sleeping bag, Harry’s head peaked through the entrance, “A few of us are borrowing bikes to head to the nearest gas station to buy things for the barbecue if y’ wanna come.” 

Y/N nodded, “Just give me a second and I’ll be right out.” He nodded and paused as though he wanted to say something else before shaking his head and leaving. Y/N released a sigh and pushed back her hair wondering how she even got into this mess in the first place.

Harry was standing by two bikes, holding Elise in his arms, “A few of ‘em already went ahead.” 

“I didn’t know Elise was gonna be here,” Y/N cooed and pinched the two-year-old's chubby cheek. Harry’s eyes warmed before he placed her in the basket of his bicycle. “Is that safe?” Y/N frowned. 

“Course it is,” He shrugged. 

Soon they were riding side by side with Elise squealing in the basket of Harry’s bike, her small fingers gripping onto the front of the basket as the wind blew through her hair. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she watched the two year old laugh and scream with excitement. 

Eventually they pulled over into the gas station. Y/N held Elise as Harry grabbed the things they needed for the barbecue, “Do y’ wanna ice cream Elise?” Y/N gasped, taking her to the freezer to pick out an ice cream.

Elise squealed and babbled incoherently as she picked the most colourful ice pop in the whole freezer. Y/N picked out two for herself and Harry to have since it was so hot out and they still needed to ride back to the campsite again.

They sat under a grouping of trees, Elise inbetween Harry’s legs as he helped her eat her ice pop. He’d have to wipe her chin every now and then with how sloppy she was when eating, “There y’ go baby girl, that ice pop ain’t going anywhere,” Harry chuckled as Elise gripped the ice pop in two hands. 

Y/N smiled to herself as she watched the two of them interact, Elise’s adorable antics continuing to amuse them both. She couldn’t help but think about how strangely normal this all felt. Despite the little time they had known the Styles’ siblings, it felt like they had known each other for much longer. The ease with which they connected, the laughter shared between them—it all felt so natural, as if they were meant to be together in that moment.

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face with a hint of a smile on his lips, “What’s going on in that head of yours Birdy?”

Y/N smiled, “Nothing, I’m just happy.”

Harry looked surprised, “Y’ are?” 

“Yeah,” She nodded, “I am. Are you?”

Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah Birdy,” He grinned, dimples popping, “I am.” 

Their exchanged smiles lingered for a moment longer before Harry stood up, “We should probably start heading back before the sun goes down.”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, she could have stayed right there in that moment for a little longer but she knew they needed to get back to feed the others. 

They picked up their bikes off the floor and began their journey back, stealing glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Y/N’s heart fluttered everytime he caught her eye and looked away bashfully. 

After eating and staying out to talk to her friends, Y/N was already ready for bed and wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was wearing her pyjamas and an eye mask on top of her head. She wanted to make sure she was the first person in the tent so that she could be the first one to claim her space. 

She tried to relax but her heart was racing when she heard Harry’s voice from outside as he said goodnight to his little sister in the tent next door. Y/N randomly picked up a book she had bought with her and pretended to read as the entrance to the tent lifted open and Harry crawled in. 

He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tattooed torso completely bare, “Normally I’d wear less than this but since the lady’s present,” He smirked. 

Y/N scoffed, “How kind,” 

There was nothing but the rustling of his sleeping bag as he crawled into the tight spot next to him. Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt his arm right next to hers as they lay side by side in such close proximity. She immediately sat up, looking down at his relaxed state, “What?” He frowned.

“Can’t you move over a little?” She huffed, even though they both knew there wasn’t exactly anywhere to move. 

His head turned, “Where exactly?”

“I-I don’t know!” She exclaimed.

Harry smiled as though he were amused by her franticness, “Oh c’mon Birdy, I don’t bite. I mean I may get a little bit touchy in the night but that’s no fault of my own.” 

“Harry,” She sighed. 

His expression faltered. "Fine," he muttered. Reaching beside him, he retrieved the blanket he had stowed away. Sitting up, he rolled it up and placed it between them. Y/N settled back down, the blanket now forming a barrier between them. Though it sacrificed some space, she found herself feeling a bit more at ease with the added distance.

“Thank you,” She sighed. 

“Mhm,” Harry huffed. 

A silence settled between them. Y/N, exhausted from the hike, found herself unable to drift off to sleep quickly. Her mind raced as she listened to the man beside her breathing softly. "Y' trust me, don't you, birdy?" he whispered into the darkness.

She thought for a moment, “More than I did before.” 

“But not completely?” Harry’s voice seemed sad, almost defeated. 

She said nothing, wondering what she could say. Of course she trusted him, he had been nothing but good to her these last few months and proved to her he wasn’t what most people said he was. Even if he was a flirt and enjoyed attention from time to time, he was loyal to the people he held close in his life and she adored that about him. 

“You’re getting there,” She whispered but the truth was he was already there. She just didn’t know if she trusted herself. 

Y/N woke up in the middle of the night when she felt something jolt next to her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that Harry was stirring restlessly, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“H-Harry?” Y/N sat up, the sleeping bag falling to her waist. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to shake him, “Harry wake up,” She urged, voice laced with concern. 

She noticed how he had begun to shiver, his arm covered in goosebumps. Y/N reached to put her hand gently against his forehead and hoped that her touch would provide some warmth to his shivering body. “Harry, you’re dreaming, it’s just a dream.” She tried to coax him out of his sleep without scaring him more than he already was. 

Harry's eyes snapped open, wide with fear as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, and Y/N could see the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N murmured soothingly, her heart aching at the sight of Harry's distress, “You just had a nightmare that’s all.”

Harry's breathing gradually slowed as he focused on Y/N's voice, the warmth of her presence calming whatever dark thing that lurked inside of him. With a shaky exhale, his head fell, “Fuck,” He hissed, “Did I wake y’ up?” He looked up at her, his eyes tired and sad. Y/N warily nodded her head, “M sorry, M so sorry.”

“Hey, Harry, it's fine. It’s okay.” She reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat on his back as her palm pressed against his shoulder. 

Harry took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume as if it would be enough to bring him back from whatever memory he was trapped in. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered words of reassurance. She gently stroked his hair, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body.

“It was real,” Harry whispered. 

“W-what?” Y/N pulled away, still holding him.

“M-my old man left me out in the cold one night when I tried to stop him from hurting my Mama. He kicked me out in the backyard and locked the door behind him like I was some old dog.” He spat the words out, full of anger. 

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, “He hurt you?”

Harry exhaled shakily, as though he was trying not to cry, “Y-yeah he did Birdy, real bad.” The way he said it made Y/N believe it wasn’t the only time his father had hurt him. 

Y/N swallowed back her tears, her throat burning. She held his face in her hands and forced him to look right at her, “Y’ might have to be big and brave for your brothers and Elise but y’ can be whatever you want with me.” She murmured, “I won’t let anything hurt you, Harry.”

His eyes softened, something flashed in them as Y/N moved her face closer to kiss his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his dried tears. “God where have y’ been all my life birdy?” He whispered, their lips inches apart. 

“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, “I’m here now.” 

Y/N made space for Harry to lay back down, but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She noticed how he held onto her hand whenever she tried to move away. So, she removed the rolled-up blanket between them and unzipped the tops of both of their sleeping bags. Once they were lying next to each other, she placed the blanket on top of them for extra warmth.

Harry’s arms reached out for her and he didn’t even ask before he was holding her close to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart as her ear pressed against it. “Y’ not afraid are you?” She asked, peering up at him to see his eyes closed gently. 

“No, that's just how it goes whenever I’m around you. Y’ get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” He murmured. 

Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up pace until it matched his own, “Okay.” She whispered and fell asleep in his arms. 

The next morning, Y/N awoke in the embrace of Harry who was still fast asleep. She thought back to last night and how she had never seen him so afraid before. She pressed a kiss to his cheek when she sat up and tried to leave the tent without making much of a noise. 

She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her torso so she wouldn’t get cold from the morning air. “Good morning sunshine!” Molly grinned, “How’d your first night with the pilot go?”

Patsy giggled, “Yeah how’d it go?”

Y/N bit back a smile, “It was nothing like that and you know it.” She said but they weren’t accepting it as an answer. 

George smirked, “I better not wake up an uncle by tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open, she hit him on the arm playfully and grabbed a carton of orange juice from the crate, “I’m two months older than you so I’d be careful!” She glared. 

“Ha! Ha!” Elise grinned, her mouth covered in yogurt as she stood and stumbled over to Y/N’s tent. 

"Good morning, baby girl," Harry's raspy voice greeted, a hint of strain evident as he lifted Elise into his arms, “Y’ sure are a little mess, madam.” He chuckled. 

Y/N tried to resist the urge to look at him as everyone greeted him with a good morning. She settled into one of the camping chairs, folding her legs beneath her, but soon a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun, “Good morning Birdy,” His voice was deep and raspy. 

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, “Morning Harry.”

“Where’d y’ go? Left me cold in tha’ tent this morning y’ know?” Multiple snorts came from the group around them. 

“I-I was-” She didn’t know what to say and she was pretty sure her face was the colour of a tomato.

“Wake me up next time, yeah?” He smirks, leaving her to grab some of the coffee Molly had made.

“Oh, so there’s a next time huh?” George winked. 

Y/N cleared her throat, feeling flustered from the interaction. "So, what's everyone doing today?" She attempted to change the subject, wondering if there would ever be a moment on this trip where she wouldn't be embarrassed by something she wasn’t expecting. 

. . .

Y/N didn’t see Harry for the rest of the morning as the girls got ready to go swim in the lake for the afternoon. Due to the tent mishap, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten her bathing suit as well but luckily found it at the bottom of her bag. 

Molly was already in a blue, plaid halter one-piece that tied around her neck and Patsy was wearing a yellow one with a bow on the front. Y/N stepped out of the tent after getting changed, “Oh no, you can’t wear that.” Molly was the first to comment. 

Y/N frowned, looking down at her plain black and white striped swimsuit, “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” Molly pulled the cigarette from her lips, “Honey y’ look like a crosswalk in upstate New York.” Patsy snorted.

“It’s not that bad,” She huffed, reaching for the suntan lotion only for Molly to snatch it from her grasp. 

“Honey, this trip isn’t just a relaxing break for our pilots - it’s also the chance for us ladies to get a little something out of it. Think about it, all those men do is work and all we do is sit around waiting for some excitement. Y’ think Patsy and I want to camp in tents? Y’ think we want to hike up hills? No of course not, most of the ladies here come because they want a little fun. They want to flirt and be romanced by a pilot who we might never see again.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Really,” Patsy nodded. 

Molly brushed past her and walked to her tent to pull out something from her bag, “Y’ lucky I’m an overpacker.” She unfolded the material and held up a red, polka dot swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline and a scoop back. 

“I can’t wear that!” Y/N almost gasped, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone saw.

Molly rolled her eyes, “You don’t think we’ve all seen you with Harry? He’s head over heels for you! Put this on and I guarantee you’ll be thanking yourself for forgetting that tent.” 

Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The thought of Harry's reaction to seeing her in such a swimsuit sent a flutter of anticipation through her stomach. With a playful roll of her eyes, she took the swimsuit from Molly's outstretched hand. "Fine, but only because you're relentless."

Harry was already by the lake with his brothers and some of the other pilots working on Offutt. He was lying on a towel with his sunglasses on and swimming trunks hanging on his hips, smoking a cigarette. “Oh shit, I didn’t know Nancy was coming on this trip,” George said, taking a swig of his glass bottled beer as he sat down. Nancy was sitting with a group of friends, lounging on the dock, “She sure is something in that swimsuit, H. Would y’ look at her- pure sunlight she is.” 

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, sunlight, sure. Think you’ve had one too many of those beers George. Why don’t y’ go over and talk to her?”

“Are you kidding me? She spews venom every time I try to talk to her.” George says, “And she likes you more anyway. I don’t know why though, everybody knows you’re with Y/N.”

Harry’s ears perk at the mention of her name, “What are you talking about? We’re not together.”

“Uhuh, keep talking and your nose will get bigger than it already is,” 

Harry sits up to lightly hit his brother but he pauses when he sees his mouth drop open, “What are you staring at?” Harry turns around, following George’s gaze.

That's when he notices Molly and Patsy approaching, both clad in their swimsuits. Yet, it's not them who have captured the attention of not only George but seemingly everyone else as well. Y/N walks in between them in a swimsuit that reveals the soft skin of her thighs and the curve of her breasts from the low neckline. Her hair is pinned up and tied with a red ribbon, her smile so bright it overtook the light from the sun.

Harry felt a rush of breathlessness as he removed his sunglasses, unable to tear his gaze away from Y/N. "Have mercy," he muttered to himself, rising from the ground and striding over to the girls, with Sonny and George trailing behind him. 

The girls laid their towels out on the ground as the boys were walking over, “Looking swell Patsy,” Sonny’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage.

“My eyes are up here Sonny,” Patsy spoke, monotonously. 

Harry ignored everyone else as he stepped in front of Y/N. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. He felt his cock stir in his swim shorts as she licked her bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat through him. Harry knew he needed to get a grip on himself before things got out of hand. 

He glanced around and noticed eyes staring at the girl in front of him, “Hi Birdy,” 

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “H-Hi Harry,” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Are you saving this swimsuit for someone or?” He smirked, wanting to get a rise out of her. He liked seeing her cheeks turn red whenever he attempted to flirt with her. 

“M-Molly and Patsy wanted me to wear it. I wasn’t sure at first but they thought it looked good. I feel like it’s a little too much, what do you think? Do you think it’s too much?” Harry’s eyes softened as she rambled nervously to him. 

Sensing her self-consciousness, he put her at ease by saying, “Y’ look beautiful Y/N,” 

She took a deep breath, “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” He murmured, reaching his hand out to hold her own. Y/N offers a shy smile. 

“I don’t know about you all but I’m just about melting from how hot it is. Are any of you going in the water?” Molly asked, receiving a nodding of heads in response. 

“What do y’ say we go for a swim huh?” He smirks. 

Y/N suddenly gets all embarrassed again, “H-Harry, I need to tell you something,”

“What’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned. 

“The thing is, I don’t know how to swim all that well.” She confessed, “We don’t have anything like this back home so I never really got the chance to learn.”

Harry snickered, “How’s about I teach y’ hmm?” 

She purses her lips and then nods, “Okay Harry.” 

They walk hand in hand to the dock. Harry notices Nancy’s glare as they walk past her and gives Y/N’s hand a small squeeze in assurance. He’s first to jump in the water, submerging underneath and swimming up to the surface. 

Y/N stood on the edge of the dock with her toes hanging over the edge, “Oh I’m not so sure about this Harry,” She said, uncertain as she realised how deep the water was. 

“It’s alright darling, I’m right here,” He holds his arms out, ready for her to leap right into them, “I’ll catch you before your head even goes underwater, wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty hair now would I?”

“No,” She says and he knows she wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, too busy worrying about jumping in.

“M right here Y/N, you can do it. Get in the water darling, c’mon.” He coaxes her and thinks she’s about to do it but she hesitates. 

“I can’t! I really can’t Harry.” Y/N shakes her head. 

“C’mon Y/N, you can do it!” Molly and Patsy cheer for her, already swimming in the lake with Elise in their arms. 

“Alright Birdy, on the count of three,” Harry’s smiling even though he knows it’s hard for her. “One…”

“I can’t!” She bends her knees slightly. 

“Two…” He shouts, people clapping and cheering now. 

“Harry seriously!” She giggles, her eyes squeezing shut. 

“Three!” 

“I can’t do it,”

“Birdy get in the water!” He yells and then laughs because she’s laughing too at her own silliness, “I’m sorry daring, will you please get in the water.”

Y/N closes her eyes, bends her legs and screams, using one foot to leap into the water. Harry’s already there waiting to catch her and drag her up. It’s almost instinctive as he grabs her hips and feels her legs wrap around his waist beneath the water. Her head emerged and she quickly wrapped both her arms around his neck. “That’s m’ girl,” He cheered, everyone joining in as Y/N emerged with a smile. 

“It’s cold,” She laughed, water coming out her nose. 

“It’s not so bad,” Their faces were close, if he moved any closer he’d almost be kissing her. 

“Are you gonna teach me how to swim now?” Y/N asked, her teeth biting her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, grinning, “I kinda like having y’ like this.”

Y/N splashed him with water, “What if I drown?”

“I won’t let you,” He said as though it were a matter of fact.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “But what if I’m eighty and you can’t swim anymore but I wanna swim instead.”

He knew she was being silly but he liked the fact that she considered him to be a part of her life for that long. A spark of hope flashed within him, “I’ll probably just swim with y’ anyway. I mean it would be a sight to see Birdy but wherever you go I go.”

Y/N huffed, “Fine if you won’t teach me to swim, you’ll just have to carry me around in the water.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Harry joked, “Where to first Birdy?”

She pointed to her two friends who were keeping Elise entertained in the water and Harry grinned, understanding her silent request. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he scooped Y/N up into his arms and waded into the water towards Molly and Patsy, Elise's delighted squeals echoing around them.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake, they reluctantly made their way back to shore after spending the whole afternoon swimming. As it was the last night, people had been preparing for a bonfire - a tradition created to commemorate the end of the trip. Sonny and George were already sitting with Nancy’s group of friends as they waited for the bonfire to be lit, the other’s going to join them. 

Elise was napping in Patsy’s arms as they sat together, wrapped in towels and talking. Harry pulled Y/N down to sit next to him on one of the logs, pulling her into his side. He noticed she was shivering as the air turned cooler and silently reached for the sweatshirt he had brought with him to pull over her head. She thanked him quietly in return. 

Eventually, the evening air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter as they settled in for a cosy night by the fire. Someone pulled out a guitar, and soon the sound of music filled the air, blending with the sounds of voices and the crackling of the flames. 

Harry excused himself from Y/N's side for a moment to join his brothers and friends for a smoke. Despite the distance, he couldn't help but steal glances at her now and then, his heart warming at the sight of her. Each time she took over from Patsy in looking after Elise as she slept, a sense of peace settled within him.

It had always worried Harry that Elise wouldn’t have another woman in her life to provide the things she needed that Harry and his brothers knew nothing about. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Y/N with his baby sister. It wasn't just the way she cradled Elise with such care, or the gentle sway of her movements as she rocked the sleeping girl. It was the way Elise seemed to instinctively trust her, snuggling closer to Y/N as if she sensed the warmth and safety she provided.

Harry turned his back on her momentarily to extinguish his cigarette in the dirt. But when he faced his friend again, his attention was drawn to someone approaching the girls. It was a man he recognized, someone Nancy and her friends had been conversing with for most of the day. He observed as Y/N smiled, but he could sense her discomfort as she subtly retreated while he continuously tried to get closer to her.

Harry began to slowly walk towards them until he could make sense of some of what the stranger was saying. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the man's words were laced with suggestive undertones, and Harry's protective instincts surged to the forefront. 

As he approached, he caught Y/N's eye, and he could see the silent plea for help in her gaze. “Hey fella, I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said, his tone firm as he confronted the guy. 

The thug sneered at Harry, clearly not appreciating the interference. "Mind your own business, pretty boy. The lady seems to be enjoying my company just fine," he retorted, a smug grin on his face.

Harry’s jaw clenched, “I don’t wanna have to ask y’ again to leave her alone.” He warned, his voice laced with a steely edge.

The man stood up and Harry tried to keep calm when he saw the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t going to fight in front of her and he wasn’t going to wake his sister who was now in Molly’s arms. Although Molly, as though sensing there was going to be a fight, backed away and bought Elise somewhere away from the campfire. 

Harry looked behind the man who was a few inches shorter than him, “Was he bothering y’ birdy?” He pointed at the thug who was trying to intimidate her.

“H-Harry-” Y/N stood and tried to reach for him but he held up a hand to stop her. 

People were watching, the noise had quietened down as a thick tension fell over the camp, “I just wanted to talk to the pretty bitch over here. You know she was asking for it the way she was wearing that swimsuit all day.” The sick thug chuckled. 

“You think that’s funny huh?” Harry faked a smile, stepping forward until he was right up close to the man, “Y’ know, my old man told me that when a guy makes comments like that to a young lady, it means something.” 

“Oh yeah? What does it mean?” The thug spoke, as though he was in on some kind of joke Harry was making. 

Harry’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Their cock’s too small to find.” With a swift movement, he clenched his fist and swung, the impact landing squarely on the man's jaw. The thug stumbled back, stunned by the force of the blow, and Harry wasted no time in delivering another punch, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Harry!” Y/N gasped as Patsy screamed in shock. 

People gathered around to watch as the two men delivered punch after punch at each other. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Harry get hit repeatedly, his entire face covered in blood. 

“George!” Y/N ran over to him, “Y’ gotta stop it,”

“What am I meant to do? That guy’s huge!” George exclaimed although he also looked worried for his older brother. 

“Please,” Y/N begged, “He’ll kill him.”

George hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinct to protect his brother and the fear of intervening in the dangerous fight. But the sight of Harry, bloodied and battered, spurred him into action.

"Sonny, help me!" George called out to his younger brother, who immediately rushed to his side. Together, they managed to pull Harry off of the thug he was punching, their combined strength enough to separate Harry from him.

Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the man lying on the ground, spitting out blood from his mouth as he did, before turning to face Y/N. Despite the pain etched on his face, his eyes softened as he reached out to her. "I'm okay," he assured her, his voice hoarse.

“Y-you’re hurt,” She was in shock, unable to believe this was real and not just some nightmare she was having. 

“I’m okay baby,” He heaved, spitting out more blood onto the floor. 

Before the man could get up and try to hit him again, Sonny, George and Y/N led Harry away from the bonfire. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Harry's injuries, her hands trembling as she gently touched his bruised cheek. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, one of his eyes already beginning to swell. 

They managed to lead Harry away from the chaos of the campfire, guiding him towards their tents where they could tend to his injuries in privacy and ignoring the gossip that was whispered amongst everybody. Y/N caught sight of Nancy who stood up and looked over at Harry with concern etched on her features. 

“Put him down here,” Y/N pointed to one of the logs for him to sit on and ran to grab a first aid kit she had packed in her backpack as a precaution and a wet cloth to wipe his face with. Harry groaned at the impact, hunching forward and clutching his ribs in pain. 

Y/N knelt in between his legs in front of him and opened up the kit, “You two should head on back, make the most of the rest of the night,” She told them as she placed the wet cloth to remove the blood from Harry’s face. 

“Are you sure Y/N?” Sonny scratched the back of his neck, “We can help if you want.”

“And do what? All I’m gonna do is fix his wounds and then go to bed. I don’t want you two to miss out and ruin the rest of the trip.” It was only ten thirty so there was still plenty of time to spend at the bonfire. “The girls are leaving Elise with one of the families and I’ll pick her up in the morning. Everything is fine, you two go and have fun.”

Harry hissed as she applied disinfectant to his cuts, “Well alright,” George said, still unsure, “But you’ll come get us if something goes wrong?” 

Y/N nodded, trying her best to smile, “I promise I’ll come get you.”

They soon left and Y/N was left alone with Harry writhing in pain, “I’m sorry Y/N.” His voice came out a whisper.

Y/N’s jaw clenched, “That was silly, y’ could have easily diffused the situation without delivering the first punch.”

“He was asking for it and I won’t allow anyone to talk to y’ that way. I saw how scared you looked when he was talking to you. God Y/N,” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, “I think I saw red - I’ve never been so angry before.” 

Y/N sighed, “I know you were just trying to look out for me but you frightened me and I-”

“I did?” His voice sounded hurt, taking Y/N aback.

“A-A little,” She admitted, “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I can’t die, you know that,” He tried to crack a smile but his face hurt too much, “I never want to scare you, you know that right?” 

Y/N said nothing, “Hey,” He cupped her face in his hand, “I never want to scare you, ever.” 

“I know,” She shrugged him off, “Just don’t ever do that again.” 

Harry looked at her with a furrowed brow, unsure what to think of how she was feeling, “Alright,” His shoulders dropped, “I won’t.” 

Harry thought better than to interrupt her as she tended to the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. His eyes stayed fixated on her as she focused on fixing him up. He was pretty sure his pupils had carved themselves into hearts with how much adoration he had whilst looking at her. Her hair was wavy and tangled from swimming in the river, she had caught the sun a little so her face was tinged red and she was wearing his sweatshirt that was much too big for her small form. 

“I think that’s as good as it gets,” She whispered, eyes darting across his face. 

As she was about to pull away, Harry tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. Y/N looked down as he curled his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point, “Thank you,” He murmured, doing his best to look at her despite his black eye. 

Y/N helped Harry into the tent, trying to make it easy for him to lay down comfortably without feeling any pain from where he had taken a few hits on his torso. She crawled in beside him and lay on her side to look at him, “Do you need anything?” She kept her voice quiet. 

Harry shook his head, “Just you here is fine.” 

Y/N swallowed, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.” 

A silence fell over them, the tension felt palpable now that they were alone together. There was so much that needed to be said hanging in the space between them - things that had been brushed off or put to one side all so they could build trust. But perhaps as their trust in each other grew, they began to question their own judgement and feel uncertain about themselves. 

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, breaking the silence. He rarely said her name now, often replacing it with the nickname he had given her, so hearing it from his lips sounded sweet like a term of endearment. 

“H-Harry,” She said back, unsure of what he was going to say.

“My old man used to hurt me and m’ family a lot,” He started, Y/N’s heart hurting for the man in front of her and his younger siblings, “When I grew older, I started t’ fight him back and I got so good at it. Not that that’s something to brag about but… I-I guess when I see the people I love, like my Mama and my brothers and Elise, in pain, I just get so angry. I-it’s like I see red every time and all I can think about is how much I want to hurt the cause of their pain.”

Y/N stayed quiet, allowing him time and space for his moment of vulnerability, “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as I had been tonight. It’s like I saw you flinch and I swore I could have killed him.”

“Harry,” Y/N gasped, wanting to reach out for him. 

Harry turned over, wincing at the pain but needing to look at her as he spoke, “I ain’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. When I sleep rough, I picture it to help me get back to sleep. Y’ seem to settle something in me that no one else can and… I don’t know what to do about it.” 

Y/N’s heart thundered against her chest like it was trying to leap out, “Watching y’ with my family, being with y’ every day - it is the one good thing in my life. You are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that is wholly and completely mine. I don’t know how to quit y’ Birdy, I’ve been trying because I thought y’ wanted to do this whole friends thing for a little longer but I think about you when I sleep, when I eat, when I’m a hundred feet in the air - Hell, I even think about you when I’m holding Elise, imagining you being there and holding her and how much I want that with you.”

Y/N felt her eyes burn with tears, “Y-you do?” She said her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I do darling,” He shuffles forward and reaches a hand out for hers under the blanket.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” Y/N confesses, feeling the weight on her chest ease with each word she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since the moment I saw you.” 

“You haven’t?” Harry questioned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I haven’t,” Y/N affirmed, “Somehow it seems you’ve set up camp somewhere in there,” She placed a hand over his heart, “‘S a little annoying really,” She giggled. 

Harry grinned, his head moving closer to hers. Y/N’s smile fell when she felt his breath blow across her face. Her eyes darted down to his lips, “Are we going to kiss again?” She asked. 

“Do y’ want to kiss again?” He murmured, his lips feathering across hers. 

“I do, so badly, I do.” She was almost begging. 

“Well alright then,” His voice husky with desire. With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips with his. 

The kiss ignited something within them both. Months of longing and watching from afar, releasing into this moment.  Harry's lips moved with an urgency as Y/N sighed deeply in relief,  their mouths melding together. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as if to bridge any remaining space between them.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Harry's hair as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with every beat. The world around them faded into insignificance as if they were the only two people remaining in the world and they were all each other had. 

Y/N’s hand went under his shirt, feeling his warm body beneath her fingertips as she slid them up his torso. Harry gripped her hips hard enough to move her on top of him. Her bare legs were between his and he remembered she was still wearing her swimsuit beneath her sweatshirt.  “Harry,” She whispered, breathless. She was tugging on the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.

He shot up and she pulled his shirt over his head. Y/N marvelled at his muscular, tattooed body, she’d seen it plenty of times before but she could never seem to get over how perfectly built he was. Harry was eager to kiss her again, but Y/N hesitated. Her fingers went to the hem of her sweatshirt, and she pulled it over her head. Then, she did something that left Harry breathless.

She pulled the straps of her swimsuit down, leaving her upper body completely bare. Harry had never seen something so ethereal. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends falling at her supple, rounded breasts, her nipples hardened from the cold air. Harry felt his cock stir in his shorts and he was pretty sure Y/N knew what was happening from the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted. 

“We don’t have to...” Harry wasn’t sure where this night was going to go but Y/N stopped him.

“I want to,” She whispered, “I want you.”

“Y/N,” He murmured, unable to believe this wasn’t all a dream. 

“Shhh,” She shushed him and pressed her lips against his again. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together. 

Harry tossed the blanket to one side with his lips still attached to her. He pressed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting on her skin leaving a mark that would tell him in the morning that this was all real. Y/N could feel the bulge in his boxers beneath her as she straddled his lap. She rolled her hips against him, Harry groaning against her lips in response. 

Y/N gasped when Harry thrust his clothed cock against her core. She could feel the dampening of her swimsuit as her pussy grew wet the harder he ground against her, “Harry,” She breathed, his lips ghosting against her jawline, “I want you to put it in me,” She said, her desire overruling everything.

“Yeah?” His voice came out raspy, “Y want my cock in your pussy darling girl?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes.

Y/N immediately nodded, desperate to feel him inside of her, “Take me out then baby,” He ordered.

Y/N swallowed and tugged on the waistband of his shorts, her fingers fumbling to pull him out. Her eyes widened when she saw the outline of his cock against the fabric. She reached into his shorts and felt his cock beneath her hand, wrapping her fingers around it only to realise how big he was as she pumped her hand up and down. Harry clenched his jaw, his head falling back as he released a moan. 

“Gonna take off the rest of that swimsuit baby?” Harry murmured, playing with the nylon fabric. Y/N nodded and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug the swimsuit off of her body. Harry’s mouth fell open as her wetness touched his thighs. “Look at tha’ making a mess all over me hmm?” He tutted, his eyes looking down at her bare, pretty pussy. “So pretty, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I need you so bad Harry,” Y/N mewled, her head dropping forward onto his shoulder as she went back to pumping his cock. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her. 

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed.

He helped her a little by pulling his shorts down from his hips. He almost died when he saw how much bigger his cock looked in her smaller hand, “Will it fit?” Y/N asked, eyes looking up at him big and round. 

Harry glanced at her pussy, “Dunno baby, y’ pussy’s so small,” He sighed, “Might hurt y’”

“But it’ll fit, I know it will,” She insisted because if he refused she’d probably pass out. 

“Oh yeah?” He looked at her with a cocky grin, “Look at you, you’re so desperate for it.” He reached out to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she looked at his aching length.

His lips went to her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch as he breathed, “Show me.”

“What?” Her mouth fell open. 

“Show me how it fits in y’ baby,” He muttered. 

Y/N swallowed and nodded, exhaling shakily. She sat up on her knees, lifting her hips and shifting herself so her pussy was directly above Harry’s cock. Harry waited patiently, moving his hands to her hips and giving them a soft squeeze in encouragement. She grabbed the base of his cock in her hand and lowered her hips until she felt the tip nudge against her hole. She gasped when she lowered her hips a little further and the thick crown of his cock squeezed through the opening of her core.

“There y’ go,” He inhaled, “Tha’s my girl.” Y/N nodded, unable to think as his cock stretched her open inch by inch in the most delicious way, squeezing and pulsing against the walls of her pussy the further it entered her.

“‘S it all the way in yet?” She whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.

Harry looked down and groaned when he saw half of his cock submerged in her tight pussy, “Almost baby,” 

“Okay,” She mewled, sinking further onto his cock until he was so deep inside of her. She whined, her head dropping forward when she felt the tip of his cock nudge the walls of her cervix and his balls pressed against her ass. 

“Fuck baby,” Harry moaned, pressing a longing kiss to the top of her head.

“Y so deep,” Y/N’s words came out slurred. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, getting used to the feeling of his cock inside of her. “M ready now,” She whispered.

“Yeah? Y’ sure?” He wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was in complete control of the situation.

Y/N didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted herself up and then sank back down on his cock, feeling it rub against the walls of her sopping, wet cunt as she did. She repeated the action, her head falling backwards, back arching; she had to grip Harry’s calves to keep her from falling back. She was seeing stars every time she bounced on his cock, “It feels so good Harry,” She whimpered.

Harry grabbed her waist, helping her move up and down on his cock, “I know it does baby,” He moaned, “Does it feel good knowing ‘m so deep? Only I can touch y’ that deep baby, fuck,” He drawled. 

Y/N pushed herself up and removed her hands from his calves to his shoulders, using them as an aid to help her move up and down. Harry moved his head forward and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting. He pressed spongy kisses down the center of her breasts, “Can y’ feel me right here darling girl?” He whispered, pressing his hand to her belly where his cock protruded every time she sank back down on him.

“Please Harry,” She whined, unsure exactly what she was asking for but so consumed by the intense pleasure she was feeling. 

“Please what?” His lips ghosted against her jawline, sweat coated their skin from how warm the tent was. He tugged on the ends of Y/N’s hair, “Y’ want me t’ put a baby in y’ is that what you're asking?” Y/N groaned, lips parting as the air left her lungs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? Can feel you clenching round m’ cock baby. Darling girl wants me to put a baby in her?” 

Harry thrust his hips harder into her when he received no reply, “Want me to fill you up and put a baby in you hmmm? Do y’ like the idea of having my baby inside of you? Making y’ belly all round and swollen and having everyone at Offutt knowing that baby inside of you is all mine.”

“Y-Yes Harry,” She gasped.

“Yeah? Y’ wanna make me a daddy baby? Be m’ perfect mama waiting on me with your perfect pregnant belly?”

“Mhm,” Y/N choked, his words making her heart pound. Her eyes began to water, feeling overwhelmed with how good she felt.

“Do you want me to cum inside of you?” He kisses her chin, “Know y’ ready to cum baby. Y’done so well.” He moves his hand in between them and starts to rub circles on her clit. Y/N’s gasping for breath, whining and writhing on top of him. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” She says over and over again like some sacred prayer, a stray tear falling from her eye.

“I know baby, I know you’re tired and ready to cum.” His lips puckering to leave a kiss where the salty tear once was on the side of her cheek. He could feel the burning in his belly as his orgasm began to build. He would have cum ages ago if he wasn’t so set on cumming with her. He could feel her cunt tighten around his cock, squeezing him harder. “Cum with me darling.” He murmured.

Y/N felt the coil in her belly burst as she clenched around his cock as she came. Harry’s quiet moans filled the tent as his cum painted the walls of her insides. He makes sure his whole cock is all the way in her even though he knows it won’t do anything, the thought of filling her up with his seed makes him cum even harder. 

Y/N collapses into his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath from the intensity of her release. She feels Harry’s heart thumping hard against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down her back as he lays his forehead on her shoulder. 

Y/N whimpers when Harry moves and shakes her head, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” She asks, tiredly.

Harry kisses her shoulder, “For as long as y’ want.” 

“Thank you,” She murmurs, feeling as though she could fall asleep exactly like this. His cock was still inside of her, she could feel the stickiness of his cum dripping on her thighs, but it felt so good to be so full of him. 

“C’mon darling girl,” Harry kissed her cheek, “Time to sleep.” 

Y/N shuddered when Harry removed his cock, her pussy pulsing around nothing whilst she felt his cum gush out of her. Harry brought his fingers to her thighs and began to push his cum back into her sensitive cunt. Y/N inhaled deeply, shuddering as she felt his fingers stuffing her empty hole with his cum. 

He gently laid her down beside him, her body placid. He grabbed the blanket and laid it across her body to stop her from getting cold, “Your bruises,” Y/N whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand and brushing her thumb over the bruise on his eye.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He told her, he’d completely forgotten he was even in pain after she admitted his feelings for her. 

“Promise?” She whispered. 

“I promise,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. She hooked her leg around his waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered. 

Y/N smiled, he could feel her lips curving against him, “I love you too Harry.” 

Y/N woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Memories of last night flashing through her mind like each individual scene from a movie reel. Her whole body was filled with warmth, her core aching from the acts she had partaken in just last night. 

She turned over, expecting to see Harry still asleep beside her only to find an empty space. With a frown, she sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, searching for her underwear and the sweater she had borrowed from him yesterday to cover herself up. 

She crawled out of the tent and glanced around, trying to find the man she had confessed her feelings to. She hoped he was somewhere smoking a cigarette or maybe decided to go for a swim before they had to make the hike back to the Air Base later on. 

Y/N stood on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around herself. She caught sight of Sonny and Patsy walking over with a bucket of fresh water. Y/N waved and tried her best to smile at them even though the feeling of dread began to swarm in the pit of her stomach. Sonny’s head turned in her direction and his expression faltered , “Hey guys,” Y/N said, her voice slightly raspy, “H-Have any of you seen Harry this morning?”

The uneasy silence that followed, punctuated by the grim expressions on Sonny and Patsy's faces, already made Y/N regret ever asking the question in the first place.

p.s y/n is on birth control just wanna make that clear heh

taglist: @ribbonknives @scorpiotulipicon @hermionelove @champagnepronlemsxxxx @n0vaj3an @roxyfan14-blog @avasbeanie @idontcareforausernamesblog @tpwksummer  @celesterry @love-letters-to-uranus @boredhsblog @tpwk-harry-styles @groupieloveclub @estaticheart @unknownkii @royaler1999 @lovebittenbyevans

[crossyourmindrights]

Half & Half

Here is my new soulmate idea. (New meaning different than my other ones I wrote back in the day.) A tattoo appears on the left ring finger of each person when they turn 16 years old. It’s a black outline, nothing crazy—obviously, it’s on the ring finger. It has to do with how you meet your person. (You’ll see in a second.) It’s vague, there’s not much rhyme or reason.

Q&A (because I feel like there are always questions when it come to soulmate ideas):

Q: Sam, won’t multiple people have the same tattoo? A: Great question. Potentially. It’s irrelevant though for the sake of the story.

Q: How do they know it’s their other half? A: Another good question. The pair of tattoos change to the same color.

Q: Well, Sam, hypothetically, if four people are in the same room and meet their respective half can’t they all have the same color change? How will they know which person they belong with? A: It won’t happen. Q: How do you know? A: Because I wrote it that way.

Q: What happens if you don’t find your soulmate in this universe? A: Then you’ll be sad like Harry.

Q: What do you mean Harry is going to be sad?! A: Warnings: Lots of angst, sad, pining Harry, mentions of death, mentions of sex (pg-13 at most)

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask! (But be warned I'm making this all up on the spot!)

That’s it. That’s all you get. (there will also be like one or two liberties I'm taking with this idea that may have forgot to disclose that you'll read in a few minutes). A black tattoo that marks how you’ll meet your other half. When you meet that person, the pair of tattoos change to the same color. I don’t have a preview for you because this turned into a lengthy foreword. Enjoy :)

How can you miss someone you’ve never met? / Cause I need you now, but I don’t know you yet / But can you find me soon because I’m in my head? / Yeah, I need you now, but I don’t know you yet.

Harry looked at the little tattoo on his ring finger. He’d been staring at it since he was a teen. The morning of his sixteenth birthday to be exact. It was small, the length of his first knuckle to the next and he thought it was a cruel fate that it was a little coffee cup. How was that supposed to narrow his search? Why couldn’t it have been something like Niall’s—a snake? How often did one encounter a snake? That would be easy (and it was for Niall). Or something like Gemma’s—a diploma? There was only a certain number of graduations Gemma anticipated attending.

That was more than twelve years ago he woke up with the taunting little marking. For the first week he drank no less than four cups of coffee a day and had his mum drive him all over town to the different shops in hopes of finding her. Anne took it all in stride knowing how she spent eight hours at the library the first day she saw the book tattoo on her finger when she was Harry’s age. It was just something that needed to be done. The heart wanted, what the heart wanted.

He wished he knew what was on his love’s ring finger. It would have been better if the two markings were paired in the tattoo that appeared on his skin. It wasn’t much help to know it had something to do with their first meeting. It could be anywhere. Harry could have coffee anywhere. After that first week, he decided to relax. He was sixteen. There was plenty of time to meet his soulmate.

But sixteen became seventeen and suddenly he was twenty-eight, no soulmate, and the little coffee cup on his finger mocked him more and more every day. There was therapy or services he could try. People could potentially help, but it just felt so tragic. He wanted to just know. Wanted it to be a natural meeting; the way it was intended. Simply discovering one another exactly how the tattoos indicated they would. None of his friends or family needed help. The many Google searches told him it took a mere average of five years to find their other half.

He had more than doubled that time. Twelve years. The person that he was destined to meet was somewhere out there with who knows what etched on their skin. Maybe they had a coffee cup too. Harry had heard of that. But Niall’s soulmate had a balloon because he had taken his nephew to the little balloon cart after the snake exhibit at the zoo. Both the little outlines on their fingers turned green as they met. It happened. He found her.

Gemma’s soulmate had a camera—someone who happened by at the exact moment they needed someone to take a picture of their family after she graduated. Their outlines turned a brilliant shade of red. They had met. She found him. They could start their lives together.

Anyway, it was unlikely Harry and his other half both had coffee cups.

It wasn’t like Harry had a tragic upbringing that he desperately needed his love at the other end of this tattoo to help him cope through life. He adored his mother and sister. He had a great education. He wasn’t bullied and had a set of good friends. He had a stable job and a good home. If anything, it seemed kind of selfish of him to be so upset he was without his soulmate when everything else was good.

But he longed for his soulmate. All day. Every moment. It ached to his core. He swore his heart was beating for his person, tapping out a rhythm that sounded like a name that he wasn’t allowed to hear. His friends and family were all concerned for his well-being. They couldn’t imagine the heartache Harry was suffering and they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy. All-encompassing adoration and love? He had plenty of that to give. He wanted to be at the receiving end of it. A match made in heaven. Or whatever cosmic reality was out there. Harry had watched so many movies and read so many stories depicting the meet-cutes between soulmates. He wanted his.

There were therapies and people to help if you lost your soulmate. These, essentially, were dating sites if you didn’t want to be alone after an untimely passing or something else (although Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario that didn’t include death—what was the something else?). Harry thought about the websites and the grief counseling. Because as he approached his twenty-third birthday, he was getting lonely. All of his friends and acquaintances were paired by then and found the loves of their lives by the time he graduated university—they fell well within the average time. He was jealous, simply put. How could he not be?

“Oh, Harry,” Sarah cooed, kissing his cheek, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as he scrolled through options on his phone. She met Mitch when she was a child—the tattoos and color changing appearing instantaneously. It was extremely rare, but it was effortless: a swing and a slide. Light purple. Another match. One moment blending into the next without pause. They found each other before Harry even had a tattoo on his finger. “You’ll find her. You deserve love more than anyone I know.”

He hoped she was right because he was rapidly losing hope.

Tomorrow was his twenty-ninth birthday after all.

How can you miss someone you’ve never seen? / Oh, tell me are your eyes brown, blue, or green? / And do you like it with sugar and cream? / Or do you take it straight, oh, just like me?

Anne said the same thing as Sarah—but he thought she still had hope because she wanted her son to be happy and that’s what a mum did. She had hope even when Harry didn’t.

Harry had a soft heart. He was sensitive. He wanted to be in love more than he wanted anything else in his life. But he went through the motions. Finishing school, getting a job, and doing his best to get through each day without someone to share it with. He could feel pity oozing from every person he met, and they saw the black ink on his finger. His friends spoke in hushed whispers agreeing to any coffee shop Harry wanted to meet at each weekend.

Each night came with a fitful sleep. A different pair of colored eyes appeared in his dream of someone he didn’t know yet. There were so many dreams of meeting his favorite person. So many good ones. So many bad ones. All of which he woke up heartbroken once more, that he hadn’t met the love of his life.

He graduated with top honors because there weren’t many people in school who didn’t have the other half of their soul by their side. Especially by the end of the four years. It was hard for his friends to go out with him and watch him not find the love he was looking for. Harry wasn’t one for partying excessively—he had plenty of fun times in university with his friends at parties without his other half, that wasn’t something he regretted. But by the time graduation rolled around, the parties got further and few between. His friends didn’t need to go out the way he did. They didn’t have to search anymore.

Harry lost the most hope during his third year. He tried dating people he met at coffee shops and cafes. Dating was a loose term. Harry’s dates with those that lost someone or those that, like him, had given up weren’t all that fruitful for either party. Call him old-fashioned, but if she was out there, he wanted to save every intimate part of himself. A sweep of the lips across a cheek, that was all he could muster. Companionship to stave off the loneliness, that was all he could manage at best. Some were blatant in showing their disappointment. But most usually understood—they’d do anything to get their other half back or to find them.

He prayed to whatever was out there that she felt the same way.

The only solace he had was knowing that maybe, just maybe, she was out there, feeling just as crummy as he was. Not that he wanted the love of his life to feel crummy. At the very least, it would be another thing to tie them together and something to discuss when he finally found her. He kept a list of things he wanted to know. Several lists.

The first list was filled with superficial things—favorites mostly: color, food, movie, etc. Outward things that he wanted to know but really, they were things that anyone who knew the most basic information about her may know. The next list was slightly deeper; things that people only closest to her may know. Things that made her tick. What were her political views? Did she have a good home life? Was she a summer or a winter kind of person? How did she take her coffee--with half and half?

Is that why the coffee cup was there? Did she even like coffee? Has it been a teacup all this time?

The final list was deeper, intimate, things that he wouldn’t anyone to know about himself (or her, if he was honest) except maybe a therapist. Did she suffer her first heartbreak despite knowing she had a soulmate out there? Did she believe in an afterlife or reincarnation? Did she have any regrets or suffer ever?

Had she waited like Harry did?

Part of him hated the idea that she may not have felt the same way regarding intimacy. Maybe she gave that part of her to someone else. Someone she had met at a coffee shop and maybe she thought the tattoo changed color. Sometimes Harry thought his tattoo had changed. He believed it so vehemently. The shade of black looked gray-er one day. Another day it looked sort of navy-blue.

It was wishful thinking because even if it did, he never found who was supposed to be his other half at the time.

But he also believed that even if she did have a difference of opinion on intimacy, he would trust her judgment implicitly. She believed she was doing the right thing at the time and that was enough for Harry.

He woke up on his twenty-ninth birthday the same way he had for the last thirteen years—without a soulmate and a heavy heart.

Cause lately it’s been hard / They’re selling me for parts / And I don’t wanna be modern art

Harry started therapy when he turned twenty-seven. He was feeling very low without anyone to come home to. His therapist was helpful and extremely kind. But Harry could tell by the pink coloring on his ring finger that he had already met his other half. While his directions and ideas to help Harry cope with the grief of not knowing, it wasn’t something he could fully empathize with. Harry fully believed that. It wasn’t his therapist’s fault either—how could Harry blame him for finding his soulmate?

His therapist recommended websites with more successful ratings. His office even had a program that Harry would be perfect for. In fact, if he was interested in it enough, he would be a great candidate to speak to others in similar situations. There was a chance for Harry’s picture to be on a pamphlet to help others like him. He could tell his therapist was excited about the prospect of helping others like Harry. But it would only be another reminder to Harry that he was alone.

Harry found himself balling his hands into fists to keep from screaming.

*

His friends asked if he wanted to do anything for his birthday. For the last seven years they had done a coffee crawl in hopes of Harry finding someone that changed his tattoo for good. But this year Harry wanted to be alone.

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked in disbelief. He could hear the alarm in his voice. He could hear the covered whispers from Sarah behind the scenes. He nodded and Mitch was silent waiting for Harry to say something. But he didn’t speak for a full three minutes. When he did, Mitch wasn’t oblivious to the sniffle he heard and the way Harry’s voice broke.

“M’jus...” he shook his head. “S’fine,” he shrugged and swallowed all the emotions. He looked at that horrible, ugly, little mocking coffee cup. “Jus’...tired,” he told his friend.

“Yeah...sure...,” Mitch nodded. “Let me know if you need something, Harry. Happy birthday.”

It just didn’t feel happy.

Harry spent his birthday sulking in his apartment. He called out sick for three days of work so he could lie in bed, mourning the loss of someone he didn’t even know. On that third day he scheduled an impromptu therapy appointment begging the man to just do something to end Harry’s suffering. He wanted to be in love...he wanted to be loved.

But his therapist could only do so much. It was one big waiting game. One big, cruel terrible game.

*

“Uh...hi...m’name’s Harry,” Harry said into the microphone. He placed the guitar on his knee and brought the microphone closer to his lips. “M’therapist...suggested I sing when m’feeling down; s’been a while since I sang in front of a crowd,” he explained to the quiet group. “A way t’cope. Uh...in case it wasn’t obvious, I haven’t...met m’other half,” he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Been waiting thirteen years and four days.”

A few people had their attention focused on Harry. There were a few quiet interjections of ‘aw.’ A couple gasps of shock. There was one quiet happy birthday toward the front. Harry tuned his guitar for a moment. “I didn’t write this,” he smiled wryly. “But I believe every word of it,” he nodded in affirmation and swallowed. “How can you miss someone you’ve never met?” He began.

As he sang, he focused on the playing and singing the right words. He barely looked at the little crowd of the quiet, late-night cafe. He didn’t tell his friends about this. It was for him only. His next method of coping. When he finished the song there was a smattering of applause and he nodded gratefully, shoving his guitar in its case, before rushing outside. He took heaving breaths, the air from his lips accumulating into a cloud in the space in front of him.

That did not feel cathartic the way his therapist said it would. It was overwhelming and Harry actually thought it was one of the worst things he ever did. He felt like puking and began pacing away from the café stopping a few meters further up the sidewalk trying to console himself and his feelings.

“Excuse me?” Harry’s heart almost burst at the sound of her voice. He turned to the person hurrying up the path to him. His heart leapt but he kept his fingers pressed into the palms of his hand. He was going to leave imprints from his nails pressing into the skin.

She had a scarf draped around her neck and a pair of gloves, no coat. “I didn’t want to miss you! Harry, right?” she asked, shivering against the chilly February air pausing beside him as he looked back at the road in front of them. He gave a half nod. “That was beautiful,” she sounded like a song herself. But Harry had thought he met his soulmate before, he knew better than to get attached to just the sound of someone’s voice. There was one person he met ages ago—he couldn’t even remember what year it was that he was so sure was his soulmate. But when he looked, her tattoo was sky blue...and Harry’s remained black.

Harry also taken many science classes and knew the earth was tilted on its axis. But he was certain it had inexplicably turned upside down the moment he heard her voice.

He was still fearful it was too good to be true.

 He didn’t dare look at his finger.

“I saw you rushing out here—boy, it’s really cold! I...I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she explained as she tilted her chin down to hide below her scarf. If Harry was smart, he would ask to go back inside so she wouldn’t freeze to death. It wasn’t his fault he was a sad, broken man.

Instead, he was speechless, waiting for the inevitable. For her to ask to see his tattoo. He pressed his fingers harder against his own hand. Instead, she bit her lip, her nose turning pink in the frosty temperature. “I brought you some hot chocolate,” she told him. Harry took this moment to realize between her gloved hands she held a coffee cup—or rather, a cup of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate. The same kind of cup that he knew was outlined on his finger. He didn’t take the drink from her. He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he was frozen in place.

Instead, he managed to turn his attention to her eyes for the first time. They were so gentle, so kind. There was understanding etched all over her face. Harry just laid it out to a whole group of strangers the hurt he was feeling. He knew she knew. She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t talking. So, she continued. “My tattoo is a guitar...and you were the only person in there with a guitar...so...it’s,” she smiled and shook her head. Like it was an inside joke between them already. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “It’s gold now, this like beautiful, shimmering gold...I didn’t even want to cover it because I want to look at it all the time—and it’s only been about ten minutes like this but—God, it’s so cold out!—but I didn’t want...couldn’t miss you so I didn’t wear a coat—can I see your tattoo?” She rushed, still shivering. The poor girl.

Harry felt lightheaded. She was right here. A guitar. A cup of hot chocolate. It had to be.

Right?

Harry shook his head. “N-no,” he mumbled. The rejection broke her gentle, beautiful features. The poor thing.  Why would he say that?! “M’scared,” he admitted.

She swallowed nervously. Her expression was a little more guarded than when she first stood next to him, but less broken than when Harry outright said no. “I just moved here,” she nodded—complete understanding back on her face. Her teeth were chattering. Harry was horrible to make her suffer like this. “I’ve been looking at this goddamn guitar for eleven years and you should know, I have no musical talents whatsoever. I took so many music classes in high school. I attended every band concert at my college. I haunted my local music store. I—” her voice cracked, and Harry heard the desperation that he had felt for so many years. It ached him to know she felt the same way. Worse than his own pain. He wanted to yank her heart out of her and cradle it, hold it and nurse it back to health. He’d give her the shattered half of what was left of his own heart if that would make her pain go away. She looked at the cup between her hands, tears lining her lashes so beautifully Harry was really starting to believe it was her.

“Baby, I threw a dart at a map,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take it, Harry. I applied for the first job I could find that used my degree in this town. I found an apartment. I packed up and left everyone and everything I ever knew to find my soulmate,” she sniffed. There were no fallen tears, but Harry thought she probably had cried plenty. Harry certainly had. “Everyone I know, thinks I’m crazy,” he knew that feeling very well. “I took the very first flight out possible. So, I’ve been stuck in my old time zone I won’t sleep until tomorrow afternoon. I was tired of unpacking. Tired of being hopeful and I just wanted to get some hot chocolate because it’s so cold, you know? So I went to this café that I Googled—it’s the only place open at eleven at night,” but Harry already knew that. She brought a gloved hand to her lips. Lips that Harry really wanted to kiss. “I know you have two years of waiting on me. I’m sorry about that—I didn’t know we weren’t in the same place, honey. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Like it was her fault. Harry felt so broken that she was taking the blame for it all, but he couldn’t get his vocal cords to work. It wasn’t her fault. These things happened. It just sucked. It sucked the life out of Harry for thirteen years, but Harry remembered eleven years without her just as well. It’s when he started therapy after all. She had suffered too. “Please,” her voice cracked again. “I need to see your tattoo,” she begged.

It was so quiet on that cold street. His chest hurt; his throat ached. It felt like he was trapped in the smallest of rooms, the walls closing on him and pressing him into a cube of pain. He held out his left hand. She rolled her lips into her mouth. Her shoulders were heaving with the greatest weight she had ever carried. Harry wished he could be braver and help her out, but he was so terrified she was wrong. This was the closest break in his search he had ever had and if she was wrong, he thought it would kill him, surely.

She switched the coffee cup to her right hand. With her free one, she slid her gloved index finger over his bare digit. She released a breathy, watery giggle. Another inside joke between the two of them. “Don’t suppose it’s always been gold?” She asked.

Harry knew when his therapist asked what it felt like when he finally met her, he would never be able to describe the moment accurately. He tried to take it all in. The sounds, the smells, the feelings. His eyes were blurred with relieved tears so he couldn’t take in what he saw but he finally looked down at that beautiful tattoo of his. An iridescent, glittering gold. With her teeth she pulled her glove off her hand—his poor love had to be freezing but she didn’t stop—showing Harry how her little guitar outline matched the color of his cup perfectly, sliding her ring finger against his making the first brush of her skin against his the most magical feeling he had ever felt.

So, this is what it felt like to be whole.

In the same moment, she dropped the mug. It shattered to pieces on the cold sidewalk, stained her pale colored shoes in chocolate liquid and soaked her discarded glove. But Harry didn’t even have a second to react to it because her arms were around his neck. Her face was buried in his shoulder. “I thought it was a coffee cup,” he croaked, wrapping his arms around her middle. She giggled some more. It might be his new favorite sound. He pulled her close, feeling the shards of the mug crunching below their shoes. They stayed like that, Harry’s heart thrumming against his ribs, positively ready to jump into her chest to be a whole heart, finally. He squeezed her, crushed him to her, terrified to let her go. He would need a new therapist to cope with this kind of anxiety.

He pushed her back from him and he brought his hands to her cheeks, trying to take in every inch of the beautiful face he longed to see, touch, and feel every night he slept. He never wanted to stop looking at her. He was scared to let go of her for even a second.

Maybe he didn’t need to explain it to his therapist. This moment would just be theirs. A cold street, a broken mug, and two halves of one soul finally found.

He pressed his lips to her forehead then each eyelid, her nose, her cheeks. He tried to kiss every pore on her skin. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he admitted. Her heart fluttered. “I know s’pathetic,” his lips never stopped the kisses to her face. His voice muffled by her skin. He pressed his lips again and again to the same spaces. It warmed her, he could tell. Her cheeks turned a deep red, but it wasn’t due to the cold.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, and he watched as the tears dripped down her cheeks. Harry had the fleeting thought that meant she hadn’t waited and now that she was finally here, he knew it really didn’t matter. “You really are my soulmate,” she whispered, which proved of course she waited—she was all his.

Harry ran his thumb along her lip and sank his mouth to touch hers. He moaned at the feeling, the warmth, the electricity that ran through her and into him. A completed circuit. Whole. She whimpered again, kissing him back and wrapped her arms around his neck again. He squeezed her close, her toes lifting off the ground.

“Can I take y’home with me, angel?” He begrudgingly pulled away. She quickly nodded, her heart fluttering at the word angel. He didn’t even mean to call her that, it rolled effortlessly off his tongue. “I have...so many questions t’ask you.”

“Please,” she nodded eagerly.

Harry held her left hand because it was without a glove. She was also still without a coat—abandoned in the late-night cafe, but they marched on anyway.

*

But I only got half a heart to give to you. / And I hope it’s enough.

Harry gave her his heaviest sweatshirt and made more tea so he could stay awake and keep her warm. Her jaw still chattered every so often, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Sitting on his bed. Harry had never had a girl in his bed before. He held her hand in both of his. The tea on his bedside table. He was staring at their tattoos. The pair that somehow matched after all his suffering. He thought gold was his new favorite color.

“I have lists,” he whispered. “Of things I want t’know.”

Smiling, that gorgeous smile of hers, she nodded easily. “You can ask me anything,” she promised.

Harry wondered if this was how all soulmates felt. To be heard and seen. This implicit need to be broken open and share every detail they could think of. “I don’t want t’fall sleep,” he murmured. But sleep was winning. He didn’t want it. He found her. He wanted to be awake and ask her all his questions. He wanted to memorize her skin, find every freckle. Wanted to kiss her again and again until he felt like his heart wasn’t half of a lump of muscle anymore. She deserved a whole heart.

She swallowed. “Harry, I’m going to stay,” she promised. It wasn’t distrust he felt. But it was a new ache that he wasn’t sure he could describe. Worry, maybe? That was about as close as he could get to describing it. He was afraid she was a figment, a dream. A really wonderful dream. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, it’s my favorite.”

Breakfast. One favorite down, only a thousand more to go. She gently pushed his shoulder down and she rested her ear on his chest. “Dreamed about your heartbeat,” she murmured. Harry wondered if she heard the way it skipped a beat as she spoke. He kissed the top of her head. “If I’m not right here when you wake up, I’ll be in the kitchen, alright?” He nodded. He hoped she would be here though. Waking up without her attached to him after this crazy, beautiful night might make him a little worse for wear in the morning. Would it be crazy to say he loved her? That was crazy. Whether they were soulmates or not. Despite that he did love her. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always have.”

It wasn’t crazy. Not at all. Not the way she said it. If anything, it made the most sense in the world. “I love you, too,” he felt like crying and if it wasn’t for the clock on his nightstand reading two in the morning, he might have actually cried before he fell asleep.

*

The knocking on the door woke him. So did the near shouts of his name. His love was no longer lying on top of him, but the knocking must have gotten her out of bed. It was nearly nine the next morning, the sun poking through the blinds. It was warm, his bed smelled like her.

He heard his door creak. The gasps. “Who are you?” He heard Sarah ask.

She giggled. “I’m the coffee cup,” even the way she introduced herself was perfect. Maybe he would keep the hot chocolate detail to himself. It seemed that she was willing to do the same by not telling them it wasn’t a coffee cup all these years.

“Oh, fucking finally!” Mitch cheered.

“Princess!” Niall shouted and Harry chose that moment to enter the main room, one of his best friends lifting the sweet girl into a massive hug that made him somehow feel more whole than he ever thought he could. “We’ve been waiting forever for you,” he told her. She simply giggled more, returning his hug.

“Easy, please. I jus' got her,” Harry murmured.

Sarah, seeing Harry finally appeared, threw herself at Harry with a choked half-laugh, half-cry. He kissed the side of her head. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

Niall and Mitch, being the guitar enthusiasts they were, found her little tattoo unbelievably adorable and nearly unfair they had a snake and a swing. “I quite literally had no idea how I was supposed to find a musician when I can only sing—kind of.”

The boys asked her how it happened last night. Was that why Harry didn’t answer their texts or calls? Niall said he would go back and get her things—her purse, her coat, her phone. He knew the owner and was adamant that her things would be safely in the lost and found. She didn’t even care. They asked where she was from and Harry realized how gentle and guarded her answers were—they weren’t revealing, no long explanations.

She kept glancing at Harry with a knowing smile with every question she answered. It took everything in him to not cry from the fact she was keeping her answers short because she knew Harry would want to know the answers first—would want to ask more.

Sarah was looking at her as if she put the stars in the sky—Harry only knew that look because that’s how he felt as well. “Was...was it worth all that pain?” She asked. “I can’t...I can’t imagine,” she glanced at the little slide on her finger that had been there since she was six years old. She shook her head in disbelief. Sad for Harry

But he nodded anyway. As if for thirteen years he didn’t have the most broken heart known to man. “So very much,” he affirmed giving Sarah a squeeze around the shoulders.

“I was just about to make breakfast; would you like to join us?” She asked the three of them. Harry had never been an us. It was like a magic spell. Every word from her lips was like a soothing little cleanser meant to fix all the broken parts of him.

His friends smiled and looked at Harry for confirmation. If he wanted time alone with her, they would high tail it out of there, totally understandable. Niall was already calling the café to see if he could get her things at the very least.

“Please stay, of course,” he shrugged. “We’ve got forever.” Her expression seemed to melt a little at his words. He saw the way her thumb smoothed the skin over her ring finger.

Mitch and Sarah headed to the kitchen island and took their seats, they were a flurry of calls and messages to their other friends. They wanted to spread the good news and this is what friends did for someone like Harry. He didn't need to tell everyone, he had the love of his life in his arms. Niall was headed back out the door to get her things from the café. He’d be back in fifteen minutes.

Feeling more rested than he had in years, since he dreamed about the pair of eyes that finally matched someone that he knew to be his soulmate, he didn’t feel as broken. She smiled at him, gorgeously. He didn’t think he would ever tire of this new feeling of being whole. “Y’sure y’don’t mind having them?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I love them already.”

Harry knew it would be that way but somehow it was still way too good to be true. “We have all waited a very long time for you,” he reminded her. She wrinkled her nose cutely with a little impish grin. Harry placed his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him as if he had done this every morning for his whole life. “I’ve thought about you a thousand different ways and I don’t think any of them compare t’how you actually are,” he whispered.

She pressed the length of herself against him. Arms around his neck. His arms were like a vice around her waist. Harry’s sweatpants were too long on her, and the sweatshirt was scented with her new favorite smell. The love of her life. Her other half.

“Harry, I’m afraid I only have half a heart left to give you. I was really sad there for a very long time,” she admitted quietly; maybe it wasn't the time to tell him, but she needed to say it while it was on her mind. Sarah and Mitch were fielding messages, quiet giggles and words just over their shoulders while they waited for breakfast.

“Jus’ another thing we have in common,” he mumbled into her hair unfazed by her words. “We can share the whole one we make together.”

She sighed with relief and nuzzled her face into the soft shirt he wore. “You’re everything I wanted and more.”

What more could he say? “Me too, angel. Me too.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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[crossyourmindrights]

This is the cover if anyone was wondering :)

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry blurb #enemies to lovers #cowboyrry #original character

[crossyourmindrights]

Hey guys! I just published my first fic ever on Wattpad and it’d mean a lot if you guys could check it out. It’s called Midnight Pleasure and I just released the preview for it. The Wattpad users digitalfootprintwh0 :)

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry blurb #enemies to lovers #cowboyrry #original character

[crossyourmindrights]

© 2019-2020 / AU / ENEMIES TO LOVERS / COMPLETE Fem!Reader x Harry     -     Total word count: 106.3k

BB ASKS | PLAYLIST | INSPIRATION TAG | WATTPAD (OC)

After your sister breaks both her legs in a climbing accident, you have to step in as a model in her absence. Instead of spending your summer getting ready for your last year of veterinary school, you are now set to spend time in Italy with a painter who has a bad reputation, a permanent frown, and an immense talent. Forced in each other’s company, neither think you could ever hate another person more. However, a whole month, Italian mountain air, summer, and art, might just be able to change your minds. Eventually.

I.

II.

III.

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VI.

VII.

VIII.

Keep reading

[crossyourmindrights]

Something Old Story Page

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

(originally part of the @harry-on-broadway fic challenge, then took on a life of its own!)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Interlude: Something To Dream About

Part Four

Part Five

Blurbs (take place before Part One)

3 AM McDonalds Run, A Piece of Home, Birthday Boy, Right Here

Jealousy, Jealousy

Mini Blurbs/ Requests (take place after Part Five)

harry's house one year, golf & sunburn, street style , slane,

love of my life, the beholder, low rise, good morning

[crossyourmindrights]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

[crossyourmindrights]

Traditional

Harry has more money than he knows what to do with. He decides he's going to spoil someone that doesn't seem to need all that much to be spoiled. It just so happens that person is also the newest intern at Styles Incorporated. It also just so happens that Harry is completely and accidentally enamored with her too.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

Part X

Part XI

[crossyourmindrights]

Look What We Became Masterlist

part1 - Arrogant Son of a Bitch

part2 - What makes you think you’re good enough

part3 - There's No One to Blame

part4 - I Almost Said Your Name

part5 - I Can Feel You Crying

part6 - You Don't Have To Go Home

part7 - While He's Touching Your Skin

part8 - I Disrespected You

part9 - Breathe Me In

@strwbrrydaydreams @remuslupinwifee @inlikea-coolway @mypolicemanharryyy @sunshinemoonsposts @stilesissaved @novalunosising @sleutherclaw @dear-mylove @kiy0hime @rafaaoli @st-ev-ie @urmomsksjdjdjsj @lomlhstyles @love-letters-to-uranus @panicattheuc @grace-vega28

[crossyourmindrights]

Vanilla Lime | 5

Summary: y/n only wants one thing and harry is learning to relax enough to give it to her. | demon!harry , angst , fluff , smut A/N: the long overdue final part of vanilla lime is here!!! hope u love <3 thank u so much to anyone that has read this series—it’s been my first proper attempt at writing a full fic and i’ve had the time of my life. excited to write new things for u all! Words: 16.6k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Y/N is trying really hard not to cry.

ㅤㅤPartly because once she does open the floodgates there is no going back in her admittance of how deeply she needs Harry and partly because if she starts she knows she won’t stop and he hasn’t even been gone a full minute.

ㅤㅤ

When she’d woken up, lax underneath his sweet smelling sheets, she knew—knew that if she didn’t go home that morning that she would never leave. And Harry’s lack of presence beside her was a blessing, otherwise she knows she would’ve been coaxed back to her fantasy land (that she’d tried so hard to distance herself from).

ㅤㅤHe hadn’t said much when she appeared meekly in front of him; had had a sliver of hope that the blissed out expression she had fallen asleep with might have stayed, but he could tell that she’d made her decision. And he hadn’t tried to change her mind, almost to Y/N’s disappointment—did he not want her as much as she thought he might? Was he fighting their connection and winning?

ㅤㅤBut Harry’s heart was heavy in his chest. Still is now, as he stands in front of her, back in her own living room.

ㅤㅤ“Thank you, Harry,” Y/N reluctantly starts, “for… for a lot of things.” She smiles sadly at the ground, willing herself not to tear up. She wonders how she would be feeling if their souls weren’t bound. Relief, perhaps. Or nothing at all.

ㅤㅤHe watches her. Notices the subtle clench of her eyelids to press the tears back in and the way her palms flatten against her thighs. He should say something but the words don’t form.

ㅤㅤ“I know this can’t have been the most exciting week of your life, but I definitely won’t forget it any time soon.” What are you saying? She swallows. “Will I see you again?” Y/N lifts her eyes up to meet his devastating green, brows furrowed in the slightest indication of his discontent.

ㅤㅤ“If you ever need the help of a demon,” Harry straightens his posture, “I’m sure I can find my way back.”

ㅤㅤThat’s not the circumstance she meant and they both know it. Y/N fails to hide the disappointment on her face but doesn’t voice it.

ㅤㅤ“Okay,” she whispers, voice intending to be louder but her throat clogs. Harry wants to swoop her up in his arms—but he doesn’t. He steps back.

ㅤㅤ“Bye, Bambi.” Y/N feels her lungs quiver under the weight of the sad gasp she nearly inhales, tears well on their way to clouding her vision. But she blinks them away quickly; refuses to miss the last sight of him as he looks at her. He’s doing a much better job of hiding his pain but Y/N can feel it, or at least she believes she can—if it makes her feel better about the way she’s ready to sob.

ㅤㅤHarry gives her one final small smile, failing to reach his eyes, and then he’s gone. Completely and utterly absent, with the gentle breeze his leave creates whirling his usually soothing scent right into Y/N’s face. Only this time it smells bitter. And her waterline is so close to spilling over but she refuses to blink—instead knuckles at her eyes furiously and lets out some deep breaths. More open-mouthed forcings of air than controlled breathing but it works.

ㅤㅤ

She stands in her living room, head tilted back towards the ceiling, for longer than she’d like to admit until the jarring sound of her phone jolts her out of her maladaptive thinking. Another text from Sarah.

ㅤㅤjust making sure you’re alive…

ㅤㅤhaven’t heard from u in a couple days, u ok?

ㅤㅤY/N sighs as guilt rushes over her and temporarily replaces the despair. It’s not like she has intentionally been ignoring her friend but it was hard to reply to a ‘how are u?’ and a ‘u ok?’ text when there were no words to reply with. She already knows she won’t be telling Sarah anything, had known from the first day, and it eats away inside of her but she’s adamant it’s for the best.

ㅤㅤhey, sorry i haven’t replied. been busy. i’m okay, how are you? x 

ㅤㅤThe telling bubbles that indicate Sarah is replying appear as soon as Y/N hits send and she deflates a little.

ㅤㅤHELLO!

ㅤㅤi’ve missed u

ㅤㅤi’m good, slumped at work but you know how that is.

ㅤㅤu free to meet up soon?

ㅤㅤShe’ll admit she does smile a little at her friend’s enthusiasm—nice to know that she’s cared about—and quickly types a response with the promise of being available at the weekend. Sarah seems satisfied with her answer and promises that they’ll have a good catch up. And whilst Y/N is relieved to not have to pretend that everything is okay anymore, as she tosses her phone towards her sofa, she’s once again left with her thoughts. The only thoughts her brain is capable of having; about Harry.

Imogen looks shocked to see Y/N sit down at her desk—the truth lingering between them as they exchange eye contact. She’d tried to stay at home, she really had, but nothing could grab her attention and nothing seemed important enough to warrant doing.

ㅤㅤSo she worked. For the rest of the week, she gets up and goes to work. But whilst she may be mimicking a normal life, hers is so very far from it. She allows herself to cry. Every night when she goes to bed—the distance from Harry hurts more and more with every sleep and the tears last longer each night. But Y/N likes to think she deserves a cry, as a treat from every day being the hardest day at work she’s ever had. She thinks Harry might come back if she cries hard enough but he never does.

ㅤㅤOnce it reaches Friday, Y/N finally acknowledges the situation to Imogen, who has been very patient all week. She doesn’t get teary eyed but something else catches her interest.

ㅤㅤ“I don’t understand,” Y/N says, wheeling over to Imogen on her squeaky office chair, “how you remembered.”

ㅤㅤImogen’s head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?”

ㅤㅤShe leans in, quietening her voice. “Harry put a spell—a glamour—on the building. To make everyone forget about the whole incident… But you remembered that you prayed and that would’ve happened the day before. Harry even made you forget that he took me home.”

ㅤㅤImogen gasps. “I knew I recognised him, I do remember that now… in the bathroom.” Gently, she places a hand on Y/N’s knee. “We’re talking about Lucifer here, babe. He’s the most powerful being on the planet… I know I’m not very experienced in the matter but surely he overrides everything. At least, that’s what makes the most sense, considering Harry’s spell malarkey didn’t work on me. And you know, maybe my angel blood was finally doing me some good.”

ㅤㅤY/N sighs. “Yeah… I don’t know why I can’t stop analysing everything—nothing is going to change. I just—” she pauses, inhaling, “I miss him,” shuffling uncomfortably, clearing her throat, eyes darting anywhere but her friend’s face. “I think I’ll always miss him—I mean if our souls are bound,” she laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m fucked.”

ㅤㅤ“Oh, babe,” Imogen pulls Y/N in for a hug, knees bashing awkwardly as they both lean forward on their respective chairs. “I’ll give Harry a right piece of my mind the next time I see him. Using his fuckery to hypnotise me,” she tuts.

ㅤㅤY/N pulls away with a small smile. “It’s called mind compulsion, I think.”

ㅤㅤ“Well, my mind is feeling rather compulsed to punch him.”

ㅤㅤ“I don’t think that’s a word,” she laughs and Imogen smiles, not mentioning the glossy look in Y/N’s eyes.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

ㅤㅤY/N’s heart warms slightly, looking up from her desk as she gets ready to go home.

ㅤㅤ“That’s okay, Gen,” she smiles softly. Imogen doesn’t look convinced, worry plastered across her features. “I’m so tired I think I’ll pass straight out as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you, though. Really.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N does not, in fact, fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her head doesn’t even get close enough for that to happen. As soon as she hears the fateful click of her front door shutting, she’s letting her bag fall to the floor and her hands cover her face. The tears hold themselves back but her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace—so painfully.

ㅤㅤEvery breath feels like another step taken away from Harry. He’s gone and she’s never going to see him again. She’s going to meet someone, force herself to fall in love and pretend that she is happy, have a beautiful family that fills the void but only for a little while—and still be longing for Harry until the day she dies.

ㅤㅤIt’s a hollow feeling, one of panic. The realisation that this could be her life now. That she will never be truly happy again because a part of her will always be missing. Y/N slaps her hands against the door behind her in an attempt to steady her fall as she sinks to the ground. Her head makes contact with the wood heavily as she stares up at the ceiling. Her breathing is uncontrollable now, so desperate to fill her lungs that her lungs refuse; they form an impenetrable wall and won’t let anything in. 

ㅤㅤY/N’s palms are sweaty on her knees, huddled to her chest. And then they’re wet on her eyes as her waterline starts to overflow, leaving hot salty trails down her cheeks and sobs that rip out of her chest. She’s never known crying to hurt like this. Even during the torturous week she’s had, when she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep each night, it hadn’t stung and torn through her like it is right now. Her head is pounding and foggy and she’s awfully congested, tears coating her face and pooling in her palms that are pressing numbingly into her sockets.

ㅤㅤShe doesn’t know anything. Other than that she needs Harry so much she thinks she might die from crying otherwise. Maybe her tears will start to fill her lungs and she’ll drown, or her ribs will crack from the force at which her shoulders are shaking and puncture her heart. The cause of death will be listed as the most pathetic of heartbreaks and she will be pitied by the masses.

ㅤㅤHis name is on a loop inside her head and he is all she can see behind her eyelids. She’s thinking of him so hard that she starts to smell him. And then hear his voice. And then feel his hands on her knees, trailing up to grasp at her wrists and pull them gently away from her face.

ㅤㅤ“Baby,” she hears Harry coo. Y/N gasps, revealing her sad, puffy face to him. She thinks she’s hallucinating but seeing him only makes her cry harder, eyes scrunching up and downturned lips letting out another sob. She’s pulled into Harry’s lap and he feels so real but Y/N can’t process what’s going on as she cries into his collarbone, soaking his shirt. Harry’s large palm is warm on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions as he mumbles things Y/N can’t hear into her hair. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

ㅤㅤ“Harry?” Y/N’s voice is thick; his name barely distinguishable but he knows. Squeezes her tighter against his body, arms wrapped around her back. She’s sat so close in his lap he thinks they might fuse together—he’d be okay with that.

ㅤㅤIt’s sudden—the way Y/N’s tears stop and her lungs break down their walls to let the much-needed air in. Her heart starts beating at a more steady rate as she inhales Harry—body relaxing into his—and her brain starts to calm down, fog shifting as it realises what’s going on. That nothing is missing anymore.

ㅤㅤ

Now, with a clearer head, Y/N starts to feel a little shy. She knows how rough she must look, water trails staining her skin, hands shaking, and limbs too heavy to hold up. Harry’s comforting hands hold her close to his chest as she breathes against his neck, but Y/N pushes against him to sit back and cover her face, desperate to wipe away some of her despair.

ㅤㅤHarry cups her cheeks, nudging her hands out of the way and wiping the salty tracks from her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, furrowed brows relaxing somewhat. It’s a little humiliating when she feels him thumb underneath her nose, no doubt swiping away snot—she never thought she’d have anyone uncaringly clean her up like that and it causes an endeared warmth to blossom throughout her chest.

ㅤㅤ“You’re okay,” Harry says again, quiet enough that Y/N might think he fears the power of his own voice. His hands are so soft and warm as they hold her, mollifying her already leaden limbs as she melts even further into him, head leaning into his grasp. He drops a longing kiss to her forehead, pouring his every fibre into trying to soak up Y/N’s pain.

ㅤㅤShe brings her hands up to cover Harry’s, wishing she could breathe in better through her nose to unashamedly bask in his scent. “You heard me?” She asks.

ㅤㅤ“Every day.”

ㅤㅤY/N pulls back just enough so Harry’s lips leave her forehead, catching his gaze. His composure is commendable, and maybe if she wasn’t just about ready to dive into his eyes then it would be less obvious to her that he was hurting too.

ㅤㅤ“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thinking of every tear she has shed over the last few nights and how loudly they must’ve echoed in Harry’s head.

ㅤㅤ“No.” He holds her face tighter, angling it up. He’s stern. “Don’t say that. I was trying to keep my distance. I thought— You have nothing to be sorry about, Bambi.” Harry strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, fingers gently buried in her hair. “I’m sorry. I could’ve come sooner—I let you cry,” he closes his eyes, brows kinked.

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” Y/N frowns. “If I can’t apologise, neither can you,” she shuffles even closer on Harry’s lap (not that she can get any closer but it feels necessary). She brings her own hands up to his face and delicately brushes his eyebrows—trails a finger down the bridge of his nose before using both her index fingers to pull at the corners of his mouth to twist them up into a smile. Harry relents, revealing his dimple in a smile he lets Y/N have. 

ㅤㅤThey sit there, with their faces in each other’s hands for longer than either of them know, only shifting into a more comfortable position when Harry hugs Y/N to his chest once more and rests his head atop hers. Both of their minds are running wild but neither of them want to be the one who disrupts the silence—bursts the bubble. Talking can wait a little while longer.

ㅤㅤHarry takes her thighs and forces them even tighter around him, arms wrapping around her back securely. Even if Y/N wanted to move, their bodies wouldn’t allow it. He hugs her with so much force, Y/N’s breath hitches and Harry releases his grip slightly with a soft apology. She only nestles into his neck further, trapped hands resting happily on his chest. Their hearts beat together, steady and safe, and the places their skin touches liquify in bliss.

ㅤㅤWhen Harry notices the shift in Y/N’s breathing he starts rubbing her back once more, whispering, “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” He can feel the flutter of her lashes against his neck and leans back just enough so she can’t bury in further. “Come on,” he tries again when she groans, “have you eaten?”

ㅤㅤ“No,” Y/N grumbles, wishing Harry would just let her nap on him. “Let me sleep.”

ㅤㅤBut Harry is already starting to get to his feet, hands securely under her thighs to keep her wrapped around him as he stands up with zero effort—Y/N nearly forgets his strength and agility surpasses that of an average person. She says nothing more, content with the lack of moving she has to do. He sets her down at her kitchen table—places her right on top of it. Y/N’s legs aren’t her own; they hang on tight when Harry tries to step back and she knows she should let go, that her moment of vulnerability has passed and she should act appropriately, but the possibility that he might disappear is knocking around invasively in her skull.

ㅤㅤHarry treats her delicately—doesn’t tease. “I won’t be long.” He tucks her hair behind her ears. “You care what you have?” Y/N shakes her head, eyes failing to conceal her emotions. They’re wide, and overwhelmed, and tired. Harry smiles softly, holding her gaze for a second, his eyes flicking over her face; really there, really real. They get stuck in the moment again, taking one another in, before Harry forces himself to look away. He unlinks Y/N’s legs from around him and leaves her with an uncharacteristic tap to her nose with his forefinger that has her pulling away in faux annoyance, a small smile revealing her true feelings.

ㅤㅤ

They don’t talk whilst she eats. Harry comes back with a small bowl of leftover stir fry and helps her down from the table wordlessly, pulling out her chair and placing the food in front of her. He sits opposite and watches thoughtfully. Y/N doesn’t necessarily jump with joy at the idea of someone watching her eat usually, but none of the discomfort arises, gratefully filling her stomach and returning the eye contact whenever her mouth isn’t wide open mid-bite.

ㅤㅤBefore Y/N has even swallowed her last mouthful, she’s eager to push away from the table, sure she can hear the sweet siren song of her bed calling out to her. Harry follows her movements near weightlessly, every motion graceful. There was never anything clunky or awkward about him. Y/N pauses as she places her bowl in the sink, turning around hesitantly. “You’ll stay, won’t you?” Harry nearly rolls his eyes at the silly question—and maybe bites back a derisive remark—instead nodding assertively, calming her as much as possible without using his perfumed magic. (He decided a while ago he wouldn’t unless she asked—and even when she had asked, on the night that he’d stayed in her room to make sure she was okay, there was still a lingering guilt churning around inside him at the knowledge of his manipulation.)

ㅤㅤ“Of course I will,” he verbally confirms, following Y/N once again when she meekly walks past him through the doorway and heads towards her bedroom. Harry assumes she must be feeling a little embarrassed, always so determined to minimise her behaviour before tonight. The obvious display she’s presented has broken down a barrier; new for him but drastic for her. She may as well have removed her heart from her chest and spread it out for him, or delivered it into his palms with a note that read:

ㅤㅤthis is yours now.

ㅤㅤHarry would be sure to take care of it, but he’s unconvinced Y/N knows that.

ㅤㅤ

She busies herself in the bathroom, mind running as she tries to plan some semblance of what she wishes to say in her head. When she pushes the door open however, and sees Harry sitting on the edge of her bed, her mouth starts running before her brain does.

ㅤㅤ“I don’t want you to go—” her skin warms and her eyes scrunch when she realises she’s blurted out the words that should’ve been hinted at much more gracefully. But she continues. “I mean— after tonight—” she rushes, “not because of the soul thing…or maybe it is but I don’t care.” Harry listens with a soft and watchful gaze. “It doesn’t bother me… and I want you to stay in my life and I know our souls being connected makes it complicated but I’m not just saying this. And it’s not just because of my unhinged crying, although it did suck…” Y/N lowers her voice, almost scared to admit it, “I think I would’ve cried anyway, tethered or not.”

ㅤㅤHarry is processing her words for no longer than three seconds before Y/N starts up again, his miniscule silence as he carefully chooses his reply stirring a panic up inside her. “I know you probably don’t feel the same… or you don’t want to.” Harry sits up, mouth opening to correct her but she keeps talking. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me…”

ㅤㅤ“Y/N—”

 ㅤㅤ“—But I thought you might be okay with becoming friends?”

ㅤㅤ“Y/N—”

ㅤㅤ“—Or if not I could just push someone else down the stairs and—”

ㅤㅤ“Y/N!” Harry finally cuts through her. His voice is powerful, commanding, but still so delicate it barely disturbs the particles around them. She looks at him properly, pulling herself out of her head, with wide eyes. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, hm? Come here, silly girl.” He opens his arms and widens his legs so Y/N can step between them. Warm palms rest against her hips.

ㅤㅤ“I feel the same way. And I want to.”

ㅤㅤHis words light up inside of Y/N; they trail into her ears and slick down her neck. Seep into her skin and vibrate through her bones.

ㅤㅤ“Does that make you happy?” He strokes his thumbs against her hip bones, honey-dripping tone placing a coy smile onto Y/N’s face as she bites her lip in an attempt to hide it. 

ㅤㅤShe nods. “Yes.”

ㅤㅤAnd she nearly stays happy too. Nearly lets her shoulders relax and her protective layer fall away. Until Harry continues speaking.

ㅤㅤ“But—”

ㅤㅤ“No,” Y/N’s smile drops. “No, there’s no but. Harry, please.” She tries to step back but Harry slides his hands around her body. 

ㅤㅤ“When we were at the cottage,” he starts, “I was ready to keep you forever. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.” His eyes round out as they look up at her. “But how could that have been fair? I’m no good, Y/N, really—”

ㅤㅤ“—Don’t say that.” She grabs his shoulders.

ㅤㅤ“Please, Y/N. I’m old, and I do bad things, and whenever I am with you I am terrified you might suddenly realise what I am. You deserve a nice, human boy much better than me, who doesn’t put you in danger and can give you a normal life. I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

ㅤㅤA million things rush through Y/N’s head. Sadness and sympathy for the way Harry talks of himself, and then frustration and denial that he could truly believe that. “Harry,” she starts, frowning face mirroring his own, “You are better.”

ㅤㅤHis expression stays the same, large eyes hesitant and unconvinced, not quite understanding what she is saying.

ㅤㅤ“You have been kinder to me than any human girl or boy—well, except for my friends but I don’t mean like that,” she pauses. “To say you are not good enough isn’t fair, especially when I’ll be comparing everyone I ever meet to you. And you will always come out on top.” Harry’s face softens and his hands pull Y/N in closer. “I know what you are, Harry. It doesn’t scare me,” she whispers, cupping his face tenderly. “I like liking you. It feels good.” She lets her eyes close, forehead tipping down to rest against his and he angles his head up. She listens to the way he breathes, slow and deep, and his silence unnerves her once more. “Say something,” she exhales.

ㅤㅤ“It’s too dangerous, I— Lucifer mentioned a demon named Zennith, that apparently I used to know but I don’t remember. He sent the demon after you and I don’t know what he wants or where he is. I could find him but I was half-hoping that if I ignored it, he would give up. I don’t even know if Lucifer was telling the truth. But nothing threatening has happened to you since Niall took care of the demon and I like things that way.”

ㅤㅤY/N doesn’t care. “I don’t care,” she tells him so, “you protect me.” And he does, better than anyone else could possibly attempt to.

ㅤㅤHarry’s holding himself back; they both know it. Both know that he’s letting his worries get the better of him when nothing like this has affected him before. He’s usually so confident in his abilities to keep her safe, so what’s changed? He considers the possibility of a more permanent method of concealing her scent—one that might involve teeth, or words, or something so intimately internal that Harry has to redirect his thoughts before they get too muddy.

ㅤㅤ“Let me sit on it, yeah Bambi?” He eventually utters. It’s not a no, Y/N thinks. “I would rather never see you again in my long, immortal life than know that your pain was caused by me.” This has her eyes welling up as she clumsily lowers down onto his lap, arms thrown tight around his middle.

ㅤㅤ“Don’t say that,” Y/N speaks into his neck. “Don’t even think about it.” Her words are wet against his skin.

ㅤㅤHarry sighs, his own face buried into the side of her head. “Always making you cry, sweet girl,” but Y/N shakes her head fervently until he smooths her hair down and holds her just as tight. “Been crying since the day we met.”

ㅤㅤ“No. M’tummy hurts, s’all.” Y/N is unconvincing but Harry smiles against her hair, mumbling a soft okay as they sit in each other’s arms once again.

ㅤ

Y/N is unsure at what point she was moved into her bed instead of on Harry’s lap on top of it, but when she wakes up in the morning and the first thing she sees is his sleeping face, logistics don’t seem important. Nothing seems important, apart from him being in front of her.

ㅤㅤHis face is serene, not a furrow or worry in sight, and his breathing is peaceful and deep. She wants to touch every inch of him—commit him to memory—but she doesn't want him to wake up. This could be it—the day he decides to never see her again, and the mere thought has Y/N closing her eyes in an attempt to will it away. Her body doesn’t function properly without him anymore. How would she possibly survive on her own?

ㅤㅤ“Y’thinking too loud,” the grumble jolts Y/N out of her depressing reverie, eyes opening to see Harry sleepily blinking at her. 

ㅤㅤ“Sorry,” she mumbles back, eyes flitting around the slivers of shirtless skin she can see. Harry reaches for her under the covers, fingers trailing up her arm. Her eyes meet his and he has a soft smile on his face, mussed hair curling around his temples. When his palm smooths up her neck and into her hair, there’s nothing more she wishes to do than sink into his touch. But she feels the need to protect herself and Harry notices the way she holds her breath.

ㅤㅤ“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pushes himself up and drops down closer to her.

ㅤㅤ“But you get to?” Y/N says, slightly affronted.

ㅤㅤHarry sighs, “No, baby—” he rubs hand down his face before running it through his hair. “I’m here right now. I won’t disappear, I promise you.”

ㅤㅤRight now. Y/N repeats it in her head. Not forever—right now. Is that enough?

ㅤㅤ“But if anything becomes dangerous you’ll leave?”

ㅤㅤ“If anything becomes dangerous I will protect you entirely. And then I will make sure you stay safe. And if that means keeping away from you then that’s what I’ll do.” He traces the shell of her ear with his finger. “Don’t be so sad, little thing.”

ㅤㅤ“Why aren’t you sad?” Y/N huffs.

ㅤㅤ“How can I be, when I am with you?”

ㅤㅤHe has to go and be so irresistibly mawkish. Y/N can’t help the way her heart swells and her pupils expand. To be so unashamedly wanted is all she has ever wished for. She reaches her own hand up, landing on his that has weaved into her hair and bringing it down to hold her face. Her lips pucker against the spongy part of his palm, and then the pad of his thumb, and each of his fingers. Harry watches her with a small smile, eyes velvety.

ㅤㅤHe can’t stop himself from surging forward to press their mouths together, liquid insides begging him to do something. Y/N sighs into Harry’s mouth, easily following his movements. It feels as though they’ve been doing this forever—waking up next to one another. He keeps a firm grasp on her hand, manoeuvring their fingers so they interlock and pushing forward so Y/N lays on her back. Harry settles between her legs, lips never straying as their mouths open wider and wider with each kiss. With his free hand, Harry dances it down Y/N’s front, the other that’s firmly squeezing hers, still holding him up. Her nipples peak underneath her shirt and Harry elicits a gasp from Y/N as he thumbs over one, not stopping for long enough to tease as he gets further and further down her body.

ㅤㅤY/N opens her mouth for Harry eagerly, accepting his tongue with a grateful whine. Their noses bump and their breathing is laboured but it’s flawless. And when she feels Harry trail along the waistband of her shorts she pushes her hips up into him, only to have him send her back down and smooth his big hand underneath her shirt and press into her tummy. It’s a nice force, a warm and fuzzy feeling. One that has her sinking deeper into the space Harry gets her to when they do these things.

ㅤㅤ“What am I g’na do with you?” Their lips part and his eyes are seductive, stripping her bare. 

ㅤㅤY/N inhales shakily before whispering, “Whatever you want.” She tries to push into his hand but his strength is vast and he drags his nails up to her sternum before returning to her stomach and reapplying pressure.

ㅤㅤHarry hums, slanting his lips against hers again, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until he can almost feel her skin tingling with impatience. “You want me to make all the decisions, hm?” He mumbles against her mouth. When she whines in affirmation, he says, “You like having no power, don’t you? Like just lying there and taking what I give you?” Harry’s words stoke the fire in her belly, thighs twitching. Y/N’s skin grows hot as she nods, embarrassed. “You gone all quiet on me, baby?”

ㅤㅤ“I like it,” she breathes, eyes closed.

ㅤㅤ“Like what? Look at me,” Harry squeezes her hand. “Like what?”

ㅤㅤY/N blinks up at him, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the glint in his eyes. She wants to kiss him until all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. “I like…when you decide. Want you to do whatever you want to me…please?”

ㅤㅤ“Love how politely you beg,” Harry kisses her again, sighing into her mouth. His tongue strokes hers and makes her squirm underneath him, tentatively hooking her legs around his hips. Harry moves his hand from her tummy around to the back of her thigh, and then her ass, pushing her into him as far as she can go.

ㅤㅤHard meets soft and their mouths open against one another. Harry pulls away, sponging kisses down Y/N’s neck. He trails further, licking her nipples through her shirt and taking a moment to admire the wet patches. Then he pushes the fabric up just enough to kiss at her stomach, nibbling until he hears giggles mixed in with Y/N’s moans. Harry smiles against her skin, peeking up at her from underneath his lashes. She looks so beautiful, all bated breaths and glowing skin.

ㅤㅤ“Tickles,” she exhales.

ㅤㅤHarry can’t help himself. “Oh? When I do this?” he asks, before biting into her flesh again, dotting kisses for each tooth mark he leaves. And then he blows a wet raspberry underneath her belly button, eliciting the most adorable string of shrieks and giggles he’s sure he’s ever heard. Harry shakes his head back and forth, face snug to her skin, and his hair sweeps against her. Soft as Y/N’s hand falls into it, trying to tug him away.

ㅤㅤHe unlinks their hands and brings both of his palms to her hips, holding her to him. And as he subtly slips down, his mouth starts leaving kisses again and Y/N’s laughs get caught in her throat. Harry looks up at her with a smirk, mouth hovering above her mound. Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving. But he’s barely even begun to tease yet. 

ㅤㅤSlowly, Harry kisses over Y/N’s shorts, down, down, until his nose is level with her clit. And Y/N’s breath turns into a whine, and then a squeal when Harry nudges it, shaking his head from side to side again. Her hips buck into his face and he lets her, holds her closer to him as he inhales and breathes hot air onto her.

ㅤㅤ“Should I take these off or should I ruin you through your shorts, hm?” Harry gives a particularly pointed prod with his nose and Y/N gasps. “Think I could soak you through two layers?” Y/N doesn’t know anything, can only feel the immense throbbing between her legs. But Harry does all the thinking for her. “I think I could. But I won’t today,” as he tugs on the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, presenting her already wet underwear, “wanna taste you proper.”

ㅤㅤThe promise has Y/N’s stomach contracting and her hands fisting the sheets as Harry drags the flat of his tongue over her, causing her panties to stick to her as he plays and increasing the thrumming in Y/N’s body. Harry groans into her, the vibrations pulling a whimper from Y/N’s open mouth.

ㅤㅤ“You’re so responsive, Bambi,” Harry smiles against her. “I barely have to do a thing and you’re squirming underneath me.”

ㅤㅤ“Only you,” she whines, eyes finding his as he soaks his saliva over her clit, drenching her underwear further.

ㅤㅤHarry hums, “That’s right. Just f’me, no one else.” She nods desperately. “You’re a good girl.” Y/N shivers, body begging him. “Should I make my good girl come, do you think?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes, please,” her bottom lip juts out, wet and puffy. “Need you.”

ㅤㅤ“M’needy girl needs me,” Harry pouts right back, and Y/N nearly begs again but her breath gets caught in her throat as Harry plucks her underwear to the side and licks through her folds, bottom to top. Her hips shudder and Harry forces her thighs around his head, doesn’t let an inch of space get between them. He laps at her like he may die without it, hums and groans into her, buries his nose so tightly against her clit and massages his tongue inside of her. Y/N swear she loses consciousness, head thrown back and eyes rolling—every sense overwhelmed. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

ㅤㅤAnd the coil in her belly is already tightening, and Y/N knows she could let go so easily, she’s already so nearly there. But then a harsh blaring coming from her bedside table has her jumping from her skin. Harry doesn’t flinch, carries on practically devouring her. “What is that?” he speaks into her, arm thrown over her waist holding her down.

ㅤㅤY/N can’t talk, just blindly slaps for her phone to turn her alarm off. “I’m—” she tries, “seeing—Sarah—” her words come out broken and Harry hums against her, speeding up his movements. Y/N cries out, hands landing in his hair.

ㅤㅤ“Better come then,” Harry mumbles, sucking her clit into his mouth hard and then laving his tongue over her in tight circles. “Be a good girl and come for me, Bambi.” She whimpers as his tongue speeds up and one of his hands trails up her chest, pushing her shirt out of the way to reveal her breasts. He flicks at her nipple, pinches and squeezes and feels her pulsate against his chin.

ㅤㅤShe’s garbling his name, body wound up tight and he’s whispering into her, “I know, I know, just come for me.” Her orgasm is right there, she’s so close, and all it takes is for Harry to take his other hand and sink a single finger into her drippy hole and she’s clenching down around him, crying out as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut and tears slide down her temples as Harry licks her through it, humming. He can’t take his eyes off of her, splayed out so pretty for him, contracting around his finger and pulling on his hair.

ㅤㅤ“Good girl,” he whispers against her, parting from her for a moment to give her a little respite, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh. Y/N blinks, looking down at him with a spacey expression and a wet face. She opens her mouth to speak but the noise gets lodged in her throat.

ㅤㅤ“That was—really nice,” a tear rolls down her cheek.

ㅤㅤHarry smiles and presses a longing kiss to the crease of her thigh, “Yeah? Those good tears?” Y/N nods fervently. He kisses her again, and again, slowly moving back to her centre where he sponges his lips over her clit.

ㅤㅤY/N jumps and gasps. “Too sensitive!” But Harry strokes her hip bones gently and slicks his tongue through her folds, avoiding her pearl.

ㅤㅤ“I know, just le’ me clean you up.”

ㅤㅤ“Harry… I need to get dressed,” Y/N sighs, without attempting to move. Her head just sinks further into the pillow as her rapid heartbeat starts to calm down whilst Harry sweetly tends to her. She runs her hands through his hair and then lets it brush against her tummy, sighing as she watches the way his eyes flutter.

ㅤㅤJust as her body hints at the idea of building back up, Harry reluctantly pulls away with glistening lips. He peels her legs from around his shoulders and climbs up to lean over her, stroking her hair from her face. Y/N nearly melts under his gaze but then she forces a frown onto her face.

ㅤㅤHarry pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oi. What’re you grumpy about now?”

ㅤㅤ“If you’re not here when I get back, I am going to murder you, Harry.”

ㅤㅤHe laughs, dropping a wet kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry teleports to Niall’s house and quickly ushers him to follow, settling when they’re both in Y/N’s living room.

ㅤㅤ“Could’ve been preoccupied, you know?” Niall glowers. 

ㅤㅤ“Well, you weren’t.”

ㅤㅤ“I could’ve been—”

ㅤㅤ“—Did you find anything?”

ㅤㅤNiall stares at Harry for a moment, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. For once, Harry doesn’t roll his eyes or tell him to just spit it out, instead taking a seat on Y/N’s armchair and gesturing to the sofa for Niall.

ㅤㅤ“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid, Harry. Just more of what you already know—that the unbinding incantation is lethal to humans. I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤHarry feels rather unaffected and Niall notices but says nothing. He’s not sure he wants to untether their souls now even if they could. He’s in too deep.

ㅤㅤ“But,” Niall continues, “I did read that as long as you don’t kiss her, your feelings should remain more manageable. Something about giving in to your souls.”

ㅤㅤHarry looks at Niall. Niall blinks. “Harry,” he deadpans. “You haven’t.”

ㅤㅤ“Have you ever tried not wanting to kiss your fucking soulmate, Niall?”

ㅤㅤHis friend lets out a breath, leaning further back into the sofa. “Well, you’re fucked then, mate.”

ㅤㅤHarry doesn’t necessarily agree. He might have a week ago but his priorities have changed in that short span of time. 

ㅤㅤ“Thanks for looking,” Harry finally says.

ㅤㅤNiall looks solemn. “What are you going to do now?”

ㅤㅤHarry smiles, “Y/N threatened murder if she came back and I wasn’t here, so…”

ㅤㅤ“Man, you are down bad.”

ㅤㅤ“Perhaps,” he shrugs.

ㅤㅤ

Meanwhile, Y/N is being grilled by Sarah for seeming different lately.

ㅤㅤ“I can’t tell if you’re on cloud nine or on tenterhooks expecting to hear bad news.”

ㅤㅤ“Maybe I’m both. Happier than I’ve ever been but waiting for it to go up in flames.”

Harry wakes up before Y/N the next morning.

ㅤㅤ(She had arrived home the day previous with bated breaths, assuring Harry and his smug face that she was serious about the murder if he hadn't been there. But he just looked at her with his teasing green eyes and coaxed her into his lap where he mocked until she squirmed.)

ㅤㅤHe wakes up with a renewed vigour, feeling his irises practically disappear as he takes in Y/N’s sleeping form. Hair a mess, face soft and unburdened of anxiety, and limbs relaxed right on top of Harry. He feels a sense of self-accomplishment that in her unconsciousness she gravitated towards him, and the longer he looks at her beautiful face, the more sure he is that he’s going to promise her longer than just right now.

ㅤㅤIn fact, however hard it is to sneak out from underneath her, he decides he’ll surprise her with breakfast too and his heart swells at the picture of her waking up in his head. She’d probably half-heartedly grumble at him for waking her up and then pretend not to be grateful for the food he presents.

ㅤㅤHarry is busy for a little while, taking things slower than he usually would to try and stay as silent as possible. He’s just taking soft-boiled eggs off the hob when he hears it—Y/N’s cry. Everything is turned off and Harry is hurrying into her bedroom immediately, seeing her start to thrash about under the covers.

ㅤㅤ“Hey, hey,” he tries, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Wake up, Y/N.” A tear rolls down her nose and Harry is quick to brush it away, gently manoeuvring her so she’s laying on her back and not her side. “It’s okay, baby, wake up,” he strokes her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing out the furrow in her brows. Nothing works. Not even as he starts to shake her shoulders—Y/N only cries harder and flails more. “Come on, Bambi,” Harry starts to panic; he tries to keep it quelled but the churning in his gut is getting stronger and stronger.

ㅤㅤIt’s when Harry jostles her particularly powerfully that her eyes shoot open and his heart nearly drops out of his body when he is greeted with complete darkness. His eyes looking back at him—gone are her beautiful irises, replaced by black, soulless, foreboding ovals.

ㅤㅤHe’s seen this before, knows what’s happening, but never has he dealt with it affecting someone he cares about more than life itself. Any part of trying to help her could actually harm her.

ㅤㅤHarry doesn’t have to guess very hard as to who it is that’s controlling her dream, and he berates himself for trying to pretend that someone didn’t exist instead of killing him days ago. How could he let this happen to her? If Harry weren’t here right now, she could be stuck in this state for however long Zennith decided. Hours, days, or even weeks.

ㅤㅤUsually Harry would be preparing to perform a ritual to wake up whoever was inflicted, but he doesn’t have anything and his hands are shaking like leaves. He needs to pull himself together. Y/N’s eyes are still open and it’s upsetting Harry to a fault; he’ll never be useful if he falls apart. 

ㅤㅤGently, he brushes her eyelids closed, unnerved at how inhuman she looks. An idea plants its roots in Harry’s head as he swipes away more of Y/N’s tears, delicately holding her arms down so she doesn’t writhe. He’d never attempted it in this context before, but maybe…

ㅤㅤ

Y/N will never sleep again. She’s sure of it. The image before her is undoubtedly one that will stick with her for the rest of her measly life.

ㅤㅤShe doesn’t even remember waking up—although she’s pretty sure she isn’t fully awake because the room she is in isn't a room. It’s a lack of space, a vast darkness, with her sat in the middle and an unsettling looking man standing two feet away. She can’t move, she can’t speak, she can only blink, and feel hot streams running down her face.

ㅤㅤ“Hello, Y/N. It seems I finally entered the right person’s dreams.” His voice is slimy. Was this the demon Harry had mentioned? What was his name? “You are very pretty,” the man says, and a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. “What’s a little human like you doing with a demon like Harry?”

ㅤㅤHaving more fun than I am with you, she thinks.

ㅤㅤ“He’s a bad man, Y/N. I’m sure he’s mentioned me, filled your head with lies.”

ㅤㅤHe doesn’t even remember you.

ㅤㅤ“He might be nice to you now, but one day he will only succumb to his true nature and kill you. He tried to kill me once.”

ㅤㅤYou probably deserved it, Y/N thinks, but the demon’s face contorts and then she realises she said it out loud. She goes to speak again but she can’t; he’s controlling her.

ㅤㅤ“Ah, yes, I see he has already tainted you.” He steps closer. Y/N desperately wishes to move backwards but none of her body responds. “That’s okay. A shame but nothing I can’t change. What is necessary will be done.”

ㅤㅤY/N doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, sure he must be mentally unhinged, but it doesn’t unsettle her any less as he gets closer and closer. The uncontrollable tears feel nearly scalding on her skin and she won’t blink in fear of her own safety.

ㅤㅤ“When you wake, I want you to come and find me.” His eyes darken like Harry’s, but Y/N can’t help but think that they suit Harry far better and are much less disturbing on him. “I think you’ll be much happier with me, as my little pet.” He reaches his hand out towards her face and Y/N wills every part of her being to flinch away, despite no movement happening. She feels no touch however, and notices his fingers trace the air around her cheek. He can’t, perhaps.

ㅤㅤThere’s no doubt in Y/N’s mind that whatever words the demon is speaking are supposed to have some hypnotic effect on her—but nothing in her mind changes. Nothing comes over her in a strung-out realisation, her eyes don’t round out in newfound adoration and her heart doesn’t start to speed up.

ㅤㅤWell, it does, but not out of endearment. She can only hope her connection with Harry’s soul is what's keeping her unscathed.

ㅤㅤThe demon keeps speaking and Y/N still can’t remember his name, but her neck suddenly starts to sting and she flinches. She actually, physically moves. He looks at her, puzzled, before letting out a quiet curse.

ㅤㅤ“You come and find me,” is that last thing she hears, each word more muffled than the last as her eyes droop closed and the pain in her neck is the last thing she feels.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wakes up with a cry, body surging forward and immediately crashing into a hard chest. Harry. It takes her a second to realise that the pain from her dream is real, and that Harry is the cause of it, as she feels his teeth pull away from her neck and watches as he leans back to see her face. She swears his eyes are glassy.

ㅤㅤ“I’m sorry, are you okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry exhales, words jumbled. She’s never seen him lack composure—it’s disconcerting. He cups her face and wipes her tears away, pulling her up and into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her.

ㅤㅤ“Harry?” Y/N croaks, “My neck,” she lifts a heavy hand up to touch but Harry takes it delicately.

ㅤㅤ“I know, sweetheart, m’sorry,” he lays her back down against the pillows and lightly laps at her neck, cleaning up the blood and laving over the bite. His saliva feels healing, as the pain trails away and all she can feel are Harry’s soft lips leaving tender kisses over the mark. Her eyes well up—feeling vastly overwhelmed as her dream plays back in her head. Visuals of the darkness, and the maniacal demon with the wish to own her.

ㅤㅤ“Am I definitely awake?” Y/N’s lip quivers, vision blurry with tears.

ㅤㅤHarry’s heart sinks in his chest, taking in her crestfallen and frightened expression. “You’re awake. I promise, my sweet girl.” He places a longing kiss to her forehead, thumbs determined in the cleaning of her tears. “I promise.” He kisses her nose, and then her cheek, and Y/N is turning to catch his lips—uncaring as the blood from his mouth and the salt from hers mingle together in an seismic kiss.

ㅤㅤY/N grips his hands desperately, tightly—as if they ground her—and Harry’s mouth presses harder to hers in return. Harder yet still tender, treating her with such fragility that only he can deliver. Her whole body feels weak and her eyelids are so heavy.

ㅤㅤ“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers against her lips as they part. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken care of Zennith a long time ago.” He plants a little peck.

ㅤㅤ“Are you—going to—leave me—now?” Y/N blubs, fat drops sliding onto the pillow.

ㅤㅤ“Never,” Harry swears. “Never, Y/N, I promise.” His hands frame her entire face, as she blinks sadly up at him. Tears cloud her vision. “Was g’na tell you this morning. Was making y’brekkie ‘n’ everything.” She sniffles loudly. “I don’t want to ever be away from you again, my little Bambi.” Y/N’s face screws up as more tears fall, but these ones are less forlorn, as she tugs Harry down on top of her. He tucks his face into her neck, kissing over his bite mark once again.

ㅤㅤWhen her sniffles have lessened, Harry pushes his arms underneath Y/N’s body and rolls them over so she’s resting on top of him. She sinks into him easily, limbs too heavy to hold up, and Harry’s insides roil at how weak she seems.

ㅤㅤ“Why did you bite me?” Y/N mumbles into his chest. “Like some sort of dog.”

ㅤㅤHarry exhales a laugh and rubs a soothing palm along her back. “It’s a temporary scenting bite—they have protective qualities… among other things… I didn’t know if it would work.”

ㅤㅤShe doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “What else will it do to me?”

ㅤㅤ“You’ll probably be a little needier for a couple days. I might be too. Would be stiff right now if the circumstances were any different.”

ㅤㅤ“Oh,” she breathes, “do you want…” her hand tries to move downwards but Harry’s gathering it up immediately.

ㅤㅤ“No, baby. I was far too worried about you to be thinking with my dick. And you need rest.”

ㅤㅤ“I’mfine,” Y/N says but the words slur together and Harry has been watching her very, definitely closed eyes for the past two minutes.

ㅤㅤ“I won’t move an inch,” he promises. “Dream of me this time, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ

Sure enough, it’s as if Harry hadn’t even been breathing when Y/N reawakens after her second, much more pleasant sleep. But she stirs to the comforting feeling of his warm chest rising and falling and nuzzles her face further into his body, tucking underneath his chin like a little puppy.

ㅤㅤHe carries her (despite Y/N’s adamance that she can walk just fine), and feeds her, and even offers to dress her but Y/N insists she has full control over her body. Harry is serious though, in his worry for her—doesn’t find any part of it humorous and she has to try hard not to tease him for it.

ㅤㅤ

“I have to kill him,” Harry states from next to her. Y/N has just finished explaining the details of her dream and it jostles her a little but she surprises herself by not minding one bit.

ㅤㅤ“Okay,” she says. “What if you get hurt?”

ㅤㅤAnd Harry doesn’t mean to be patronising but he laughs, “I’ll be just fine, Y/N.” 

ㅤㅤShe frowns, “I’m serious. I’m allowed to worry about you too. I don’t even know what this guy is so het up about.”

ㅤㅤ“I know,” Harry sighs, scratching at his jaw. “I wish I could remember him.” He places a hand on her knee. “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s given me more than enough reason to make sure he isn’t a problem anymore.”

ㅤㅤY/N nods silently.

ㅤㅤ“How’s your neck feeling?” Harry brushes his knuckle over the mark.

ㅤㅤ“Fine,” she hums. 

ㅤㅤ“Don’t feel needy or anything?”

ㅤㅤ“No.”

ㅤㅤ“No?” Harry smiles. “Then why are you gripping me so tight?”

ㅤㅤY/N looks down to see her fingers wrapped around his hand on her knee and she frowns. She doesn’t pull away though, she just glares at Harry who pinches her cheek in return.

ㅤㅤ“You’re cruel,” she grumbles.

ㅤㅤHarry’s grin widens, “Yeah,” he leans in, “I’m mean,” closer, “really, so very mean,” he breathes against her mouth, eyes daring to flick to hers before they flutter closed and their lips meet. His hand takes her throat tenderly, not applying pressure, just holding as Y/N mollifies into his kiss. She turns his palm up and intertwines their fingers, squeezing subconsciously when Harry sucks on her top lip.

ㅤㅤAnd he couldn’t find her any cuter, he’s sure, when she leans into him—unaware of her own movements. Harry tries moving back, just to tease, but Y/N follows him like a magnet; lips refusing to part. When he wants to actually speak, he squeezes her throat with the least amount of strength, not expecting her to melt even further into him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But he doesn’t bring it up now.

ㅤㅤ“I’m going to have Niall come here for a bit,” he mumbles against her mouth. She’s trying her hardest to keep kissing him.

ㅤㅤ“Why?” Y/N whines, too enraptured to think about anything other than Harry and his lips.

ㅤㅤ“To keep you company.” To keep you safe.

ㅤㅤShe blinks up at him then, forcing her face to distance itself farther than two inches. “No,” she pouts, doing a wonderful job of proving she isn’t feeling needy. “Do you have to go now?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes, Y/N.” Harry squeezes her hand.

ㅤㅤAnd he can tell that she wants to protest further, so he leans in once again and sponges his lips all over her face—doesn’t stop until she’s giggling and struggling, trying to move away from his unrelenting tickles. She falls back and Harry moves with her, hovering over her body on the sofa as he places sloppy kisses on her skin and trails his hands down her body to find the most reactive spots.

ㅤㅤ“Harry!” she squeals, wriggling underneath him. “S-Stop!” Her hands flap about, trying to cease his torture. Harry can’t help but smile down at her, eyes shining with fulfilment. “I’ll pee!” She panics and Harry slows down but doesn’t stop.

ㅤㅤ“How do you know I’m not into that?” He teases and Y/N gasps, determined to escape his grasp.

ㅤㅤ“Harry! Gross!” And he finally stops his ministrations, leaning back to give her some space as her chest heaves. His hands rest on her waist as he sits back, taking in her mussed hair and glowing face.

ㅤㅤ“I have to go now or I’ll never do it,” he whispers. Y/N feels her heart swell at the way he’s looking at her. She understands. But she still manages to keep him over her for another ten minutes.

Zennith is pitifully easy to find.

ㅤㅤHarry almost feels humiliated at how much the demon has affected Y/N’s life when Harry could have tracked and located him in no longer than five minutes.

ㅤㅤUsing everything he knows about Zennith, Harry closes his eyes and searches—bounces from place to place with no resistance. Is unsurprised at the lack of concealment of scent or location Zennith has in situ. He retraces moments, smells, and faces that lead Harry in the right direction until he can see a clear outline of where he needs to go.

ㅤㅤHe also sees the clear outline of an additional presence that Harry hadn’t considered he might have to deal with.

ㅤㅤLucifer’s new abode is similar in size and shape, the only major difference Harry notices being the colour scheme. In his previous dwelling, the Devil had an ironically mild decor, however the deep red and black walls in this interior is the first thing Harry sees, and it unnerves him some.

ㅤㅤThe fact he’s managed to find Lucifer’s residence without asking and has ambled in with entitlement does cross his mind, but Harry thinks he might get away with it when the demon in question spots him from his gaudy throne and flashes a disturbing smile with open arms.

ㅤㅤ“Harry Styles. What a wonderful surprise.”

ㅤㅤ“Hello,” he says, hands making their way behind his back in a subconscious stance.

ㅤㅤ“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Lucifer smiles, unabashed.

ㅤㅤHarry hesitates, “Sorry… I’m looking for someone. I was led here.”

ㅤㅤLucifer hums, “You’re a good tracker,” and then clicks his fingers a few times, eyes never leaving Harry.

ㅤㅤA man steps into the room. A man that Harry recognises. A man that Harry’s fists recognise. Surely not. That was nearly eighty years ago… 

ㅤㅤThey lock eyes and the demon’s suddenly fill with black. Harry matches him in defence, hands clenching by his side.

ㅤㅤ“You’re still a bully then,” Harry grits. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer sits back to enjoy the scene before him.

ㅤㅤZennith steps further into the room. “Funny… I don’t recall you being the one beaten to within an inch of his life.”

ㅤㅤHarry laughs, “You’ve been hanging onto this for eighty years, have you? I didn’t even fucking know your name back then.”

ㅤㅤHe sees the frown on the demon’s face, before it’s quickly concealed. “No.” He’s sharp. “I moved on. Was happy to forget about the cunt who fucked up my face for his own enjoyment.” Harry clenches his teeth. “And then Boss was telling me about his latest fun… and your name was mentioned. Took me back, didn’t it?” His eyes glower. 

ㅤㅤHarry is still processing that the demon before him that’s been causing him trouble is the kid he knocked out when he was nineteen (because he was shouting abuse at Harry, he feels is necessary to add). How pathetic he is to hold a grudge for nearly eighty years (may as well be one hundred if you round it up) and how entitled he seems. 

ㅤㅤ“I think you’re forgetting some details,” Harry grunts.

ㅤㅤ“Silence,” Zennith snaps, composure cracking, dark eyes close to producing fog. “Thought I would see how you were doing. See if you were still a depressed little loser. It’s been disappointing to see your disgustingly soft mingling with the humans. Even more disappointing that my friend was unable to have any fun before you vanquished him… That girl really is very pretty.”

ㅤㅤHarry’s body tightens up at the sound of Zennith’s sleazy voice mentioning Y/N. He tries to act unbothered but anyone could see his anger double at the perverted nature of his comment.

ㅤㅤ“It’s a shame she likes you,” he sighs. “You must have your claws in real fuckin’ deep for that dream to have not worked. I’m sure you were there, watching it all happen.”

ㅤㅤFor a moment, Harry feels undeservedly grateful to Lucifer for not saying anything about the real reason Zennith’s magic didn’t work. But then he decides it wouldn’t matter either way.

ㅤㅤHarry stalks towards the demon that might as well still be a little brat of a teenager—he has the mental capacity, that’s for sure. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’m sure you won’t enjoy it.”

ㅤㅤZennith backs up with a laugh, eyes momentarily clearing with surprise, “What?” He tries to pretend it’s a windup—a silly, harmless prank. “It’s not that serious, man. Hardly worth going to all the trouble of a fight.”

ㅤㅤ“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe if you’ll apologise for those things you said to me all that time ago, I’ll feel less murderous,” Harry goads.

ㅤㅤ“You fucking prissy, you want me to say sorry? You were a sad excuse for a demon then and you’re an even sadder one now.”

ㅤㅤHarry hums, well and truly unaffected by the words of a demon who had to cower behind someone else as they did his dirty work, and traumatise a human girl through her dream, “No apology then?”

ㅤㅤ“Boss, are you gonna let him get away with this?” Zennith throws his hands up in the air, exasperatedly looking at Lucifer.

ㅤㅤThe Devil simply smiles—making no move to help at all—encouraging the chaos and showing no signs of concern for his employee. Zennith deflates then, with realisation that this could not go his way. The three of them all know that Harry overpowers, every day of the week. He did when he was nineteen, and he will at ninety-eight.

ㅤㅤ“What the fuck.” Zennith sighs, watching as Harry steps closer and closer. He’s lost his nerve.

ㅤㅤ

Harry thinks that maybe a torturous death is deserved, but all he really wants is to get it over and done with and return to Y/N—who is no doubt having her ear talked off by Niall.

ㅤㅤSo he makes it quick. Pins Zennith still with his monochromatic eyes—wonders what he’d been doing all this time to be so weak as his arms fall heavily by his sides—and feels as his skull splinters and shatters into pieces and pierces his brain. Watches as his body crumbles and turns to ash before it hits the ground; the pained sounds of the demon echoing throughout Lucifer’s lair before the deafening silence takes over.

ㅤㅤHarry’s frowning, eyes closed to purge the image from his head and to try and remove himself from this mindset before he gets really dangerous.

ㅤㅤ“How debonair!” Lucifer claps. “I usually make so much mess but that… that was beautifully done.”

ㅤㅤHarry doesn’t have the control to appease the Devil and his unreturned flirting right now. He hums.

ㅤㅤ“Shame though, I suppose. He was a good servant… someone will have to take his place.” Harry’s stomach drops and his eyes snap open. Shit. Lucifer is already smiling at him. No, no, no. “Come here.”

ㅤㅤHis footsteps are light as he makes his way over to Lucifer’s throne. Harry’s not sure he can feel his body at all. He stops in front of him, hands making their way behind his back once more.

ㅤㅤ“No. Right… here,” Lucifer points to his side. This is where I’ll be standing for the rest of my life, Harry thinks. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred years—

ㅤㅤLucifer presents his cheek, expectantly. Harry blanches. “Be a good demon and prove your loyalty,” he teases. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, scared that at any moment he’ll be trapped, or killed, or that Y/N will become unsafe and Harry won’t be able to stop it. Hesitantly, he leans down, lips jutting out reluctantly as he forces himself to press a small and obviously uncomfortable kiss to the cheek of the ruler of Hell.

ㅤㅤThe demon looks accomplished when Harry steps back and clears his throat without saying a word, clearly basking in the glory of belittling and humiliating.

ㅤㅤ“Okay, off you go now.” Harry nearly chokes on his own saliva, the breath from his lungs forced out.

ㅤㅤ“I can leave?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes, yes, go on. I do hope I’ll see you again soon, Harry.”

Y/N likes Niall very much.

ㅤㅤUnderstandably, at first she was unsure; their first meeting not ideal to say the least.. A stranger appears in your home whilst you’re not there and it unnerves you some, to say the least. But he’s kind—really kind. And he gets her hesitation; doesn’t try to force an overbearing friendship which ultimately has Y/N opening much quicker than she usually would.

ㅤㅤNiall basks in the joy of getting to tell tales about Harry—things he’s never really been able to tell anyone before. And Y/N can see how much he loves having the upperhand between the two for once—revels in narrating sneaky embarrassing stories whilst Harry isn’t there to tell him off. Y/N finds herself giggling and gasping, leaning towards Niall and holding onto his every word. 

ㅤㅤIt feels good to know more about Harry. And his closest friend.

ㅤㅤNiall doesn’t pry either, which is an instant relief to Y/N. He doesn’t prod, or poke, or demand answers—he just fills the silence with lighthearted conversation which is all Y/N could ask for right now.

ㅤㅤThere is a moment where quiet overtakes them and Y/N’s mind drifts, just a little.

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” Niall says gently, “don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiles softly. “Harry’s the toughest sod I know.”

ㅤㅤY/N smiles back, not quite reaching her eyes but she appreciates his words.

ㅤㅤ“You know, one time…” Niall starts off again, detailing a story involving Harry, three vampires, and a lot of bite wounds. (In hindsight, maybe that isn’t the best story to tell but Niall is only trying to demonstrate Harry’s toughness!)

ㅤㅤ“You gossiping about me?” A familiar drawl sounds from behind them. Y/N gasps and twists around on the sofa to see a very normal looking Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She hesitates, aware of Niall’s presence, until Harry opens his arms out.

ㅤㅤ“Come ‘ere, Bambi,” he smiles with tired eyes.

ㅤㅤY/N scrambles over to him, content in his arms as they wrap around her and she buries her face into his chest, inhaling not-so-subtly. She misses the look Harry and Niall give one another, a clear understanding between the two. 

ㅤㅤ“You look… fine?” Y/N says when she pulls back.

ㅤㅤHarry laughs easily, “Fine? You wanted me to come home bloody and bruised, did you?” His hands span across her waist.

ㅤㅤ“No!” She exclaims, “I was worried, is all. That you would be hurt.”

ㅤㅤHe smiles, brushing his thumbs against her. “Are you alright?”

ㅤㅤNiall chirps up at the question, “Excuse me, we had a lovely time, didn’t we, Y/N?” She nods. “Are you alright?” he mocks, “she’s bloody great.”

ㅤㅤ“Okay, Niall, I’m sorry for asking, I’ll never doubt you again.” Harry sighs but it’s playful.

ㅤㅤ“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/N asks, big eyes looking up at him. His heart softens and he’d kiss her if his friend wasn’t watching.

ㅤㅤ“I’m just fine, like you said.”

ㅤㅤThey must hold eye contact for longer than they realise, as Niall clears his throat.

ㅤㅤ“Are you two alright if I…”

ㅤㅤ“Yeah, o’course,” Harry says, briefly tearing his eyes away from Y/N. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. Niall nods, smiling back, and then he’s gone.

ㅤㅤ“So… Niall was telling me some interesting things about you.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N watches as Harry gets on his knees, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms with no intention of being erotic as he starts to swill out the bathtub. 

ㅤㅤBut Y/N is a little overwhelmed. He’s here, and they’re together…she thinks. She’s not sure but she doesn’t want to ask—wonders if it’s a silly thing to ponder. For its blatancy or how preposterous it may be.

ㅤㅤSo she focuses on the one thing she does know—Harry’s ridiculous allure. She watches his back contract under his shirt, stretching the material when he leans over to turn the tap off and his biceps strain when he swishes the water around to clean the tub.

ㅤㅤIf Harry hears the steady increase of her heart rate then he doesn’t say anything. Only puts the plug in, turns on the hot tap, and generously pours her nicest bubble bath in. And when he stands up from the floor and turns to face her, his mouth is upturned at her swoony expression.

ㅤㅤ“Pupils a bit big, sweetheart,” he teases, fingers trailing up her arm.

ㅤㅤY/N scoffs, “No, they’re not,” but she has no other point to her argument and no willpower to try to find one. So instead she closes her eyes.

ㅤㅤ“Hey, don’t hide them from me.” Harry’s fingers digs into her waist and she squeals, eyes snapping back open. “Mine are bigger than yours anyway,” he smiles before he lets the whites and irises of his eyes disappear for just a second.

ㅤㅤY/N still finds herself to be fascinated by his ability to do that, among many other things. But she’s not scared—never scared. “Show off,” she whispers.

ㅤㅤ“Only because I’m trying to impress you,” Harry leans closer, a wry grin on his face. “Is it working?”

ㅤㅤY/N pushes against his chest, “You’re corny,” but she’s smiling too, and her palms don’t budge him one bit as he covers them with his own and pulls her in further. She’s elated to be here with him but she feels herself not quite knowing how to act.

ㅤㅤHarry notices (of course he notices). “You’re on edge, huh?” He looks guilty as he strokes her arms. “Gonna let me take care of you now?” He nods towards the tub. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed as she agrees with a hum. “You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ“Will—” she hesitates, talking once Harry turns his back to make sure the water temperature is okay. He looks over his shoulder. “Will you get in with me?” She supposes there’s no reason to be bashful but a bath is intimate—would Harry want that?

ㅤㅤHe just smiles and bites back a mocking comment. “I was planning on it,” and Y/N really doesn’t know what’s come over her to feel so shy all of a sudden, because she’d wanted him to get in with her but now she feels silly for even asking! You’ve already seen each other naked! She thinks, desperate to pull herself together.

ㅤㅤ“You’re overthinking, hm? Working yourself up,” Harry gently prompts, suddenly looming over her, focusing all of her senses.

ㅤㅤ“Sorry,” Y/N frowns, looking at the floor. Harry doesn’t chastise her, just cups her face softly and angles her head up before pressing his lips to hers. It’s not tactical; not intended to go anywhere, which he makes obvious by keeping his mouth closed. He kisses slowly, leaves her with a soft noise as they part, and then does it again. And again. Until Y/N is sighing—much more relaxed.

ㅤㅤHarry pushes his hand under her shirt to rest on her tummy that he’s found himself growing somewhat obsessed with. He leans away from her to pull the fabric up her body and Y/N lifts her arms to make it easier. As soon as it lands in the corner of the room, Harry is back to doting, warm hands sliding up and down Y/N’s arms, along her shoulders to cup her face, down her back, along her waist.

ㅤㅤY/N would say she feels sufficiently warmed up already but Harry continues, kissing her innocently again as his hands move to push down her trousers, fiddling with the button. Y/N feels around for his own shirt, timidly pulling it up to reveal his broad back. Harry peels it over his head and in turn she steps out of her trousers.

ㅤㅤ“You’re so soft,” Harry whispers against her mouth, lips pouting to press another mindless kiss. His hands are eager to touch every inch of her skin. And soon enough they’re both clad in only underwear, Y/N huddling closer to Harry’s chest when he unclips her bra. “Ready to get in?” He asks, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N can feel every part of Harry against her back as she relaxes into his hold and it’s perhaps the most intimate moment of her life. She’s had sex less close than this. The thick of his thighs encasing her own, the span of his hands wandering her body—lathering her in soap—the feel of his hard chest and the softer parts of his tummy and hips, and the sure hardening of him against her.

ㅤㅤHer head was surely muddled before they’d undressed, but now Y/N is confident she is a touch away from just floating off like a feather in the wind. Harry coats her skin in bubbles, encouraging in the way he coaxes her head onto his shoulder. When he dunks the sponge in the water and brings it back up to wash the foam away, Y/N’s breath hitches as the droplets hit her nipples and she feels Harry’s cheek squish up into a small smile.

ㅤㅤ“Breathe,” he speaks, turning his face into her temple. Y/N exhales shakily, nuzzling into him and Harry lays a delicate press of his lips between her brows before continuing his ministrations. “Are you feeling relaxed?” He asks, already aware of the answer. When Y/N nods hastily, Harry hums, “Not relaxed enough…” the words brushing against her skin, “I think I can do better.”

ㅤㅤGently, he lets the sponge float on the surface, replacing it with his hands as he runs his nails down her arms. Y/N’s chest is rising and falling at an obvious speed and her eyes are struggling to stay open; the anticipation affecting her considerably. “Would you feel better if I touched you…” his hands hover over her breasts, “...here?” He squeezes them far too softly but Y/N still lets out a noise—one that intensifies when Harry tugs and rolls her nipples between his fingers. “Is that nice, sweetheart?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes,” Y/N exhales, unable to concentrate on anything other than the thrumming of her body.

ㅤㅤ“Are you g’na watch how good I make you feel?” He prompts, nudging her with his nose. Y/N feels like her eyes are glued shut but she makes the effort to peel them open, tilting her chin down to see Harry’s big hands cupping her. She feels a wave roll inside of her. “There’s a good girl,” he praises, and the wave gets bigger. She never tries harder than when he says those words. “You tell me, baby, what do you want me to do?”

ㅤㅤY/N’s never been asked that before. “Whatever you want,” she says to him; not for the first time.

ㅤㅤ“No,” Harry asserts, “what do you do when you’re alone, hm? How many fingers do you squeeze inside yourself?”

ㅤㅤAnd Y/N would be scorching with embarrassment usually but the arousal she feels overpowers it. Though it’s still hard to speak, “I don’t— m’fingers aren’t long enough—o-or I’m just not good. Doesn’t do anything.”

ㅤㅤShe may as well have shot Niall right in front of Harry, the way he gasps. It’s mocking, of course, but he sounds genuinely dissatisfied with her answer. “That’s so sad, Bambi. Pretty pussy like yours should be getting stuffed full and satisfied.” His hands are still playing with her tits, running back and forth over the pebbled peaks, and squeezing the flesh which aids the pant she lets out from his erotic words. “You want me to teach you?” Y/N shakes her head no, too desperate for Harry’s touch. “No? You want my fingers?” She’s quick to agree as he trails a hand down her body, over her ribs, and her tummy, and her mound—daring to dip lower.

ㅤㅤ“Please?”

ㅤㅤ“Mm, mine are much longer and thicker than yours, aren’t they?” His other hand pinches her nipple and Y/N arches her back as her hips struggle to coax Harry lower. “Nothing in comparison to my cock though, Bambi. How are you g’na take me if you don’t even fuck yourself with your fingers, hm?”

ㅤㅤ“I will, I will!” She rushes out. “I can take you. Please touch me, Harry.” Y/N turns her face into his jaw and sponges open-mouthed kisses wherever she can reach.

ㅤㅤ“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” Harry presses down on her clit and Y/N moans into his skin, nodding unabashedly. He travels lower to gather the wetness between her thighs. And Harry knows they’re submerged in water but the thick substance that coats his fingers is unmistakable—he wishes he could lap it up.

ㅤㅤHarry’s cock is stiff against Y/N’s back and each time she arches and rests back against it, he sighs into her ear; pretty and provoked. She is thrumming—vibrating with want—never had anyone edge her so close to orgasming by hardly touching her. Her hands lay useless on Harry’s knees, subconsciously gripping him when he starts circling her clit with intent.

ㅤㅤ“Don’t close your eyes,” he orders, overly aware of her every move. It’s hard, not to just lay back and feel but Y/N keeps her eyes as open as possible, watching the flex of Harry’s wrist and the movement of his fingers over her. Her abdomen starts to flutter as he builds her up but Harry takes his hand away before she can start to give into it.

ㅤㅤY/N wants to whine and whinge but then his hand returns lower, fingers circling her entrance before he dips a single one inside. And his really are much longer and thicker than hers because it already feels better than when she tries and he’s only got one finger in.

ㅤㅤSlowly, does Harry enter her, allowing for the adjust before deliciously curling and hitting the spongy place inside that has Y/N gasping and tightening her grip on Harry’s knees. She instinctively clenches around him; Harry has to bite back a tease about how desperate her body is and draws his finger back and forth inside of her warmth. Her eyes close for less than a second but in that time he pulls out of her and she snaps them back open, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it’s not necessary, as Harry sinks in a second finger beside the first and stretches her out some. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, but one of immense fullness and warm buzzing throughout her tummy as he perfectly stimulates her with every curl and drive.

ㅤㅤ“Y’squeezing me so tight,” Harry says, voice gravelly—turned on—as the hand holding Y/N’s breast moves down to her stomach to readjust and pull her tighter against him. She gazes at the vastness of his hand on her body and then to the one moving inside of her and another wave passes and pulsates between her legs and around Harry’s fingers as he speeds up, thumb stretching to pass over her clit in focused circles. “You’re g’na feel so good around my cock, Bambi,” he twitches against her back. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Y/N mewls, body pushing into Harry’s hands. “You’ll let me, won’t you?” His breath is warm against her neck.

ㅤㅤ“Yes, anything,” she sighs, hand finding his and desperately gripping. He interlocks their fingers against her tummy as he starts to press contrastingly precious kisses to her jaw and neck. Y/N’s so close her body is tensing up in anticipation. “Please, please, please.”

ㅤㅤ“I’ve got you, come on, baby. Come f’me,” he litters kisses between breaths and Y/N is so close, so close. Throws her head back and lets her eyes shut—and Harry allows it, occupied by the stretch of her neck as he licks and sucks and rubs and fucks her until his fingers are being squeezed impossibly tight and she’s coming around him. She lets out the prettiest of noises, writhing in his grip as he guides her through her orgasm and his dick starts to become demanding the more she moves and moans, her body against him feeling like the softest of velvets or silks. 

ㅤㅤBut he ignores it; ignores everything but Y/N.

ㅤㅤShe blindly searches for his kiss, body melting in bliss as she comes down from the intense heights of pleasure. Mewling and sighing into him with each press of their open mouths. His fingers stay inside of her, reveling in the subtle but sure pulses she gives, unable to resist the urge of curling them a little to make her jump in his arms.

ㅤㅤ“You’ll become greedy for that,” he mutters against her lips before nibbling her bottom one and pulling back to look into her satisfied eyes—big and moony, just for him.

ㅤㅤShe hums, unashamed in her post-orgasmic haze. “Is it your turn now?”

ㅤㅤ

Harry wanted to devour her whole as soon as those words left her mouth—wanted to push her back and have his way with her. But the bath water was cooling, and their skin was getting all pruned, and realistically Harry knew that fucking her for the first time would not be happening in the tub. She deserved better than to be pounced upon in a claustrophobic box.

ㅤㅤAnd Harry was already good at ignoring his needs so what difference would five minutes make?

ㅤㅤHe kisses her with a smile on his face, slowly pushing upwards to get out of the tub. Her gaze follows him hungrily, lips threatening to pout if he doesn’t start paying attention to her again immediately. But he gathers a towel and helps her out, wrapping her up—delicately and thoroughly drying her body. It’s hard for Harry not to swaddle her completely and smother her face in kisses but he resists.

ㅤㅤTeasingly, he wanders her backwards towards her bedroom, towel still pressed to her body; watching how hard Y/N is trying not to make a fuss. He thinks she’s doing a pretty good job until he realises her true intentions, seemingly forgetting the speed of Harry’s reflexes. When the edge of Y/N’s bed touches her calf, she attempts to spin around—the motivation of pushing him down irresistible in her head. She barely turns a fraction, however, before Harry’s hand is clamping around her bicep and squashing their fronts together.

ㅤㅤ“No,” Y/N whines, “I was trying to be sexy.”

ㅤㅤ“You’re very sexy,” Harry smiles, nose dropping to rub against hers.

ㅤㅤ“But—” 

ㅤㅤHarry knows what she wants. He also knows how prettily she begs for him, and how easily too. Thinks he wants to push that button a little.

ㅤㅤ“What does my needy baby want?”

ㅤㅤThough it seems he’s underestimated her on this occasion, as she tries very hard to display bratty behaviour and stand her ground. Y/N crosses her arms across her chest, ripping the towel from Harry’s grasp to cover up by herself.

ㅤㅤ“You don’t wanna tell me?” He tries, wondering how quickly he’ll be able to dismantle her walls. When Y/N shakes her head, he ups his game. “S’not very nice, is it? Made you come on my fingers but you won’t be good f’me?” Her heart drops a little, guilt seeping in. But she won’t beg. She won’t.

ㅤㅤ“I—”

ㅤㅤ“I was gonna be so nice to you, little thing. Make you come around my cock until you couldn’t think straight… but if you can’t even tell me what you want then I guess you won’t get anything, huh.”

ㅤㅤShe’s gripping the towel so tightly, knuckles bulging. “I am… good,” she tries, eyes falling down to his nakedness. It looks near painful. All she wants is to taste him.

ㅤㅤHarry hums, “You usually are. Where’s she gone? My good girl.” He covers her hands, removing them from the towel so he can tug her closer. “Just tell me what you want, baby. Always so pretty when you beg.” Harry dips down, pushing the towel to the floor as his lips meet her neck and his hands slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

ㅤㅤShe’s done for; never stood a chance. Not really. She squeaks as he grazes his teeth along her skin. “I want you… in my mouth… please.” The words come out breathy, shallow. But they’re hardly desperate.

ㅤㅤ“You can do better than that,” Harry says, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Prove that you want it.”

ㅤㅤAnd her shyness has returned some—so it’s harder for her—but she shuffles closer, palms gliding up his biceps. “I wanna… make you feel good. The way you do for me,” she whispers. And it’s so soft, Harry can’t help but be taken aback. It wasn’t begging in the way he was used to but his heart swells. “You deserve it all the time. Please let me.”

ㅤㅤ“All the time?” Harry smiles. “You want my cock in your mouth all the time?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes,” Y/N breathes, looser now. “Please?”

ㅤㅤAnd who was he to say no? When she thought he deserved it so much.

ㅤㅤHarry moves to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching behind him to grab one of her pillows to stuff under her knees as she kneels down. He strokes her hair, tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in his hands before it can fall around her face. Y/N rests her cheek on his knee, eyes glued to his shiny, red tip as it stands against his stomach.

ㅤㅤ“You trying to tease me, Bambi?” He tugs her hair a little.

ㅤㅤ“No…” she bites her lip to hide the smile, coyly looking up at him.

ㅤㅤHe doesn’t have to reply because Y/N’s leaning forward and licking a broad stripe along the entirety of him, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he watches her intently. She brings a hand up, angling him towards her mouth so she can kiss at his head, tongue darting out to taste the salty precome that’s spilling out of his slit. The grip in her hair tightens when she starts to suckle at him—she goes crazy for it, humming around his cock as she starts to move her hand up and down around him.

ㅤㅤHis noises have her thighs squeezing together; low and rumbling. Y/N knows they get higher in pitch the closer he is to coming and she is determined to get him there.

ㅤㅤ“Take me deeper,” Harry demands, hand wrapping around his base to encourage her. “Know you can.”

ㅤㅤ“Mhm,” Y/N hums around him, letting her jaw drop for Harry to feed his cock into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but she tries all the same. Flutters her eyes shut and focuses on breathing through her nose as she drags her tongue along the underside of him and works whatever she can’t fit with her hand. When she starts to bob her head in coordinated movements and sucks her cheeks in, Harry’s abs tense and his head falls back on his shoulders.

ㅤㅤ“Hot little mouth,” he manages to say through a moan. “Made for me… made for my cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” When she hums again and the vibrations shoot through him, he bucks slightly, gagging her on him. Y/N retracts sharply but her insides still flip-flop about. “Fuck,” Harry groans, pulling her off him by her hair. Her hand doesn’t stop as she catches her breath. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.”

ㅤㅤHer rounded out eyes look at him like he’d carved the Earth for her personally. She really would let him do anything.

ㅤㅤ“You wanna make me come?” He strokes her cheek as she nods. “Go on then. Make me come and then I’ll put my cock in you.” Harry relishes in the way Y/N’s eyebrows cinch together at the excitement and desperation, and her thighs squeeze impossibly tight as she takes him back into her mouth. She has a newfound determination, taking him as far down her throat as she can go before withdrawing to take a deep breath and then continuing. Her hand twists and squeezes, moving up to thumb at his drippy head when she leans back to breathe—and Harry’s chest is heaving more and more, eyes slipping in and out of their demonic state as she works him.

ㅤㅤIt’s when she leans back down as start tonguing at his frenulum that Harry moans and twitches, leaking out and into her mouth. “Yeah—yes, fuck. Keep going.” A whine gets caught in his throat as his head falls forward, chin touching his chest and his jaw loose. They make eye contact as she stretches her lips back around his tip, sucking and licking—so desperate to taste his come. And he’s close, moans after every breath and struggles keeping his hips down.

ㅤㅤ“G’na come,” Harry whines. “G’na come down your throat.” Y/N mewls around him, sinking further down and speeding up her hand until she starts to feel the warm spurts filling her mouth. Harry’s noises make her spine tingle as he praises her, “Good girl— swallow it all—so good. Fuck,” hands threading gently through her hair as he comes down.

ㅤㅤ

He barely softens, grateful for his demon stamina because he thinks he might drop dead if he doesn’t get inside Y/N in an instant. “Come ‘ere,” he says with a rumble, pulling her up by her underarms until she’s straddling Harry’s hips. His cock rubs against the both of them, spreading saliva and precome across their stomachs. Y/N surges forward, catching his mouth in desperation as she grinds down, angling herself to rub her wetness against his dick.

ㅤㅤ“In,” she whines against his lips, clit perfectly stimulated as she humps him. “Want it in now, please.”

ㅤㅤHarry strokes his tongue against hers, licking into her like she’s made of honey whilst he takes a hold of himself, smearing her arousal as he paints his head through her folds. Y/N gasps, hips stuttering when she feels his thick mushroom tip prod against her entrance.

ㅤㅤ“Relax f’me, baby. Breathe nice and slow.” She listens, inhaling as deep as she can as she slowly lowers down. The stretch of him is nearly overwhelming but it’s delicious and her hands have to shoot out for grounding, one landing on Harry’s shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. He tilts his face into it, pressing a soft kiss to the spongy part of her palm. “That’s good,” he whispers as he gets deeper and deeper inside of her, “you’re so beautiful.” Y/N’s eyes squeeze shut with emotion, forehead dropping against Harry’s.

ㅤㅤHe’s fully inside her now and Y/N is sitting on him, adjusting to the feel and trying not to squirm. Harry starts teasing again once he feels her begin to grind her clit against his pelvis. “You gonna ride me?” Y/N nods, lifting up slightly before dropping back down. “You think your wobbly little legs will be able to cope with that, Bambi?” Harry grins, pushing forward to kiss her open mouth.

ㅤㅤ“I can do it,” Y/N whimpers, lifting up further. “I can.” She drops back down harder, moaning at the feeling of Harry hitting that spot inside of her. He maintains much more composure than she does, looking at her through his lashes as she starts to bounce up and down, and sliding his palms across her back.

ㅤㅤ“Am I filling you up good?” Y/N whines, nodding. “Told you we’d make it fit, didn’t I? Taking me so well, baby.” And he places a hand on her lower stomach, pressing in slightly with a smirk on his face. “Can you feel me here?”

ㅤㅤ“Uh-huh, so big,” Y/N moans, looking down to see his large hand span across her.

ㅤㅤ“G’na make you feel empty without me,” Harry promises, leaning down to take one of Y/N’s breasts into his mouth, sucking a mark into her skin. Her thighs are already starting to burn—each movement harder than the last as their bodies slap against one another.

ㅤㅤ“Harry,” Y/N mewls, hands threading through his hair. He hums into her chest, moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. His hands hold tightly onto her waist, assisting her movements up and down on his cock more and more until he finally leans back.

ㅤㅤ“You need my help now, don’t you? Told you you couldn’t do it, little thing.” Y/N frowns, grip tightening in Harry’s hair. “Just need me to take care of you.”

ㅤㅤ“Please,” she begs—for what exactly she’s not sure but Harry knows what she needs.

ㅤㅤConfidently, Harry grips the underside of Y/N’s thighs, shuffling back on the bed so he can pull his knees up. She doesn’t get long enough to prepare before Harry starts fucking up into her with no warning. Y/N struggles, but she manages to throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face into the side of his as he pounds into her—the harsh clapping sounds of their bodies hitting each other echoing throughout the room.

ㅤㅤShe’s so wet, it’s surprising that there isn’t a puddle on Harry’s abdomen as he holds her up and drives his cock into her again, and again. Y/N is a mess of noise, mouth stuck open and whimpering into Harry’s skin as he fucks her until she can’t think of anything else.

ㅤㅤ“My little human just takes whatever I give her, huh?” His deep, punctuated voice mixed with mocking words sends her already muddled brain into even more of a tizzy.

ㅤㅤ“Only you—feels so good,” Y/N manages to cry. “I’m g’na—”

ㅤㅤ“—Look at me,” Harry weaves a hand through her hair and pulls her out of his neck. “Look at me when I make you come. All over my cock, yeah?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes—yes, all over,” Y/N keeps her half-lidded eyes on him; a monumental struggle when Harry moves his hand from her hair to her clit, rubbing messily over her. His pounding subsides none, getting harder if anything—going balls deep with every thrust—and all she wants is to collapse into him but she doesn’t look away, despite how kinked her brows become and how much her body screams at her to throw her head back.

ㅤㅤIt hits her staggeringly, eyes fighting to roll into the back of her head as she cries out and squeezes Harry’s cock, orgasm stifling her. He slows down his thrusts, hands rubbing soothingly into her back as she mindlessly whimpers his name.

ㅤㅤ“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he tenderly adjusts them, flipping her onto her back so she can melt into the mattress. “Have you got one more? Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, her cunt still pulsating around him.

ㅤㅤ“Slow,” Y/N whispers, eyes blurry, “please.”

ㅤㅤHarry leans down, pressing sweet kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, hips pushing into her breathtakingly slowly. A lazy smile overtakes her features as Harry dotes on her, pouting up at him with a spacey expression. He complies easily, moulding his lips to hers. It’s gentle, the sound their mouths make as they part—Harry traces his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back up before licking her open and feeding her his tongue.

ㅤㅤIt’s hard for Y/N to muster up the strength enough to kiss him back, and her reactions are delayed, but Harry doesn’t mind; happy to be so close. 

ㅤㅤAnd in a moment of vulnerability he quietly asks, “You really want me?”

ㅤㅤY/N knows he’s not talking about sex, bringing a leaden hand up to his face and stroking his cheek. “More than anything, Harry.”

ㅤㅤHis heart inflates ten times the size of his chest, he’s sure—he’s never known anything to feel so good, but Y/N was his person, and she wanted him.

ㅤㅤHarry’s orgasm approaches rapidly at her words, and he’s desperate to get Y/N there again, hand trailing down her body to find her puffy clit. She jumps at the feeling.

ㅤㅤ“Shh, I know you’re sensitive, baby. Just need one more,” he kisses her again. “Be good f’me and then I’ll give you my come.” Y/N whines, trying to turn her head into the mattress. “Where would you like it? On your tits? Your ass?” He thrusts in harder. “I think I’d like it on your tummy, what d’you think?”

ㅤㅤ“Yes,” Y/N moans, unspecific in her agreement.

ㅤㅤHarry laughs. “You don’t think anything, do you? Just lay there all pretty and let me do all the hard work.” His hips snap against her harder and harder—pace still slow but he’s hitting her spongy spot unquestionably as Y/N grips onto his biceps that bulge underneath her palms.

ㅤㅤ“Harry,” she cries, pussy starting to flutter around him.

ㅤㅤHe groans, “Fuck, squeeze my cock like that. You feel so good.”

ㅤㅤHe stretches down, taking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing over the pebbled peak. The sound of his balls thwacking against her ass reverberates, and Y/N’s moans compete for volume as she contracts tighter, and tighter around him. 

ㅤㅤ“Y’my person, en’t that right?” He circles her clit faster.

ㅤㅤY/N nods, neck stretching as she turns her head about against the sheets. Desperately, she grasps at his back, silently begging for his closeness. Harry drops down, hand trapped between them awkwardly but the weight of him delights her considerably as he hits deeper inside of her.

ㅤㅤ“Yours,” she exhales. “Please come, Harry.”

ㅤㅤHis hips stutter, nearly shooting right inside of her. “You first, baby.” Harry speeds up his hand and rolls her other nipple between his teeth. “Soak me.”

ㅤㅤY/N clamps down around him, tightness hurling Harry closer, as she comes for the third time that night. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, so exhausted but so blissful. Her nails dig into his skin and he relishes in the sharp pain, pulling his hand away to coax his wet fingers into her mouth. 

ㅤㅤWatching Y/N’s satisfied expression as she cleans his fingers is enough to make Harry come, pulling out of her quickly and fisting his hand over his cock a couple of times before he’s painting her stomach white. He groans, head hanging low with his eyes fighting to stay locked with Y/N’s.

ㅤㅤAnd then he’s flopping down on top of her, uncaring of the come he’s lying on. He’ll get up in a minute, find a washcloth and clean them both up, before gathering her up in his arms and praying to God (if he has to) that this isn’t a dream.

ㅤㅤHe thinks that after eighty years of killing and feeling like he’d found his purpose, that his life has new meaning now. That this is what he was meant to do. That Y/N is his purpose.

ㅤㅤ

“Harry?” Her soft voice pulls him from his head and he pushes back just enough to look down at her sleepy face. “I’m so happy,” she smiles, “and I’m so glad Imogen is a useless angel.”

ㅤㅤHe laughs, from deep within his chest, and leans down to smear their lips together—unable to kiss her for long without breaking into a smile—before pulling back and whispering against her forehead.

ㅤㅤ“Me too, Bambi, me too.”

[crossyourmindrights]

cute moments between college!harry and yn??? stuff that the boys notice/walk in on and the banter and them just complimenting eachother so well 🥹

this is so, help me

-

college!harry x quiet!yn

-

Y/N always wakes up first. Since grade school, she had a tendency to wake up around six, sometimes earlier. It was hard to sleep in, so most times, she’d just stay in bed until she felt like it was a reasonable time to get up.

Harry on the other hand, could sleep until the next day. He wasn’t normally a heavy sleeper, he blamed it on soccer season. His body would get so exhausted that he needed a few extra hours to completely heal. And to add on top of that, Harry was fucking grumpy in the morning. He would hate everyone and everything that even glanced his way.

Y/N would typically be up first and roll on her side to face her boyfriend.

“Hey, dove,” She whispered, even though his light snore indicated that he was still fast asleep. Her finger trailed up his chest to his jaw, where she caressed him. “Pretty boy.” Y/N leaned in to kiss the corner of Harry’s lip, before watching him sleep for a few silent minutes.

Her hands started to wander. The sharp but soft tips of her nails scratched the back of his neck, to his collarbones, to his exposed chest, then back up to his chin where she pinched. The couple was tangled together by their legs, so Y/N had to be extra cautious when shifting to the nightstand to find her phone. But as Harry's sixth sense kicked in—he called it his Y/N sense—his arms rounded her waist and pulled her snug against him. He subconsciously hummed in satisfaction, and the smallest smile rested on his face.

“Dove, are you awake?” Y/N asked just over the noise of the fan gushing air in the corner of his room. She grabbed his cheeks with both hands and pressed her nose against his. Harry only responded with a soft snore. Y/N giggled and leaned in again to capture the tip of Harry’s sharp nose between her teeth. She didn’t press down, but waited for a reaction, which Harry didn’t give her.

He was deeply sleeping.

Y/N finally shimmied in Harry’s hold enough to extend her hand for her phone and check the time. Both of them were free from class that day, so seven in the morning was extremely early to get up. But Y/N was getting angsty staying in bed.

It took her nearly ten minutes to escape Harry and stretch out her muscles. She rolled out of bed and threw on a shirt from Harry's drawer, wearing her own pair of joggers as she could never catch herself walking around the frat house pantsless.

But before Y/N reached the bathroom door, her name was called. “Get back in bed with me, woman.” Y/N giggled and turned in the direction of the voice. Harry was still laid down, but his arms reached out for her.

“I’ve been sitting there for forever. I needed to move around,” Y/N shrugged, walking back to Harry but his side of the bed. He rolled to face her and even though he was smiling profusely on the inside, his face displaced pure grump.

As soon as Y/N was in reach, he grabbed her forearm and yanked her on top of him. She squealed softly, her hands planting on each side of him before their foreheads bumped into each other. "Who said you could leave me?" Harry rasped out a scold. His eyes were barely open, but Y/N still caught the green beaming against the light from the window.

"I did," she responded, before giggling. Their lips were close to brushing together. Y/N found it nice.

But Harry had to ruin that moment.

His face contorted to disgust as his nose shriveled up. "Baby, your morning breath is horrendous." Y/N gasped, sitting up straight on his chest.

"Harry!" she growled. "That’s so rude. I hope you suffocate from the smell."

"Fine by me, I love it," he sighed, smiling drunkly. "I can die happily, surrounded by the scent of your morning breath. Come here." Harry didn't give her time to protest, before she was pressed chest-to-chest. He quickly devoured her into a long kiss, humming in satisfaction. His hands wandered down the length of her, swiftly swimming under the band of her pajama shorts.

Y/N felt every touch and her heart quickened. She would never get used to him. He was so gentle and loving. But sometimes he wasn’t. It was hot.

"How did you sleep, baby?" Harry asked between kisses, keeping their mouths attached. His hands ran over her panties and rubbed his palms along her ass, not grabbing.

She was now holding his face, her weight against him, and enjoying the feeling of his clean shave under her fingers. "Good. I dreamt about you."

"Did you now?" He slurred incoherently, his tongue pushed into her mouth, not allowing her to answer. But he didn't need her to. She always dreamt about him, every night. And it was the exact same way vice versa.

Harry dreamt about Y/N, whether he was asleep or awake.

The couple was—literally—rolling in the sheets as Y/N was now under Harry, holding him tight by the neck so he was forced against her. She loved his warm chest touching hers.

Harry's morning wood didn't go unnoticed as his hips slowly pushed into hers, sighing with every thrust. "Fuck baby," he whispered, before tugging on her lip. He didn't want her to do anything about it as he liked the tease. The tightness against his boxers, the only relief was the brushing up against the one person who made him harder.

One whimper she let out to a particular thrust of his cock caused Harry to move to a faster pace. "Oh god," he gasped, looking down at her, but she was the one in control.

She gripped his hair hard. “Keep going, dove."

-

First the couple went into his bathroom, doing their domestic morning routine. There was a double vanity, but Harry still chose to stand behind Y/N and share the sink while they brushed their teeth. His free hand was roaming the soft skin of her stomach, before it eventually went to rest on her hip as she had to lean forward to spit. And each time her ass connected with his area, he would smirk widely, causing her to blush.

Y/N had double of her supplies, in her dorm and Harry's room. She slept at both places equally so it made sense. Harry watched as she used each product, sometimes turning to apply it to his face. He wouldn't ask what it was, just smiled warmly as she tended to him.

"Smells good?" She asked, rubbing circles on his cheeks as he closed his eyes. "It's peach scented. I love this one."

Harry nodded, "Smells really good, baby."

Afterwards, Harry carried Y/N back to bed, ignoring her protest to let her down. "You're not going to leave if you go back to bed," she said as he dropped her on the sheets and climbed on top of her.

"I know. We have nothing to do today. Let's stay here."

"But I'm hungry," she frowned. Y/N still didn't like to wander the frat house without Harry, even though she'd grown good friends with the others living there. Harry knew that and hated that she'd always feel that way.

He sighed and kissed her. "Okay, ten minutes here and then I'll take you downstairs, baby."

"That's a long time. Why?" she whined, hitting him on the chest multiple times. He only needed to slap her ass harshly as a warning before she immediately stopped and frowned.

"I want to be alone with you, woman, that's why," he kissed her furrowed eyebrows. "Give me ten minutes of just us before I have to share you with the world."

Y/N smiled and held his face. "You're kind of sweet. It's making me nauseous," she spoke innocently.

Harry growled and attacked her into a fit of laughter as he tickled her sides.

Y/N marked ten minutes exactly and finally dragged Harry out of his room to the kitchen. It was quiet as everyone else was still fast asleep. Harry complained about it. "Why do we have to be up while they get to sleep in?" he groaned. He had lifted Y/N on the island and stood between her legs.

She pushed his hair back and smiled at him. "Because I'm hungry and you're my big, protective dove, so you have to come with me," she shrugged. "I'll make you extra pancakes as a thank you."

"No need. Just kiss me," he said, puckering his lips. Y/N gladly accepted them, but not for long. Her fear of someone walking in on their intimacy kept their PDA to a minimum.

Y/N jumped down and began to cook. Harry took her spot on the island and kept the noise in the room alive with his constant chattering. Y/N gladly listened, commenting on the ridiculousness of her boyfriend. It became their roles. He was the talker, she was the listener/commentator. They loved it.

“Do you want sprinkles on your pancakes too, dove?” Y/N interrupted Harry to ask.

“Of course, I do,” he laughed, jumping off the counter to retrieve the sprinkles from the pantry. When he returned, he stepped behind her at the stove and hovered it in front of her. “Your sprinkles, madam.”

She smiled widely, and even though he couldn’t see it, he felt it. “Thank you, good sir.”

Y/N expected Harry to claim his original spot on top of the island, but instead, he stayed behind his girlfriend. His hands were around her loosely as she was continuously moving to tend to pans of pancakes and eggs with bread also in the toaster.

The smell traveled the length of the frat house. Down the hallways, under the slim openings of the doors, and to the beds where the rest of the boys slept. It only took one whiff for their eyes to open and hum at the smell.

"More?" Y/N glanced up at Harry as she shook the bottle of sprinkles onto the cooking pancakes. "That's a lot, dove."

"It's fine. I'll run it all off at practice," he smirked. "But thank you for your concern, baby. I love that you care about my health."

"It's not that," she spun around to face him and lifted a cheeky brow up. "What if you have a heart attack and die? I could be put behind bars for murder." Her eyes widened as she stood on the tips of her toes.

Harry scoffed. "Oh, I see. It's not me you care about, huh?"

"Uh, no. I don't know you," she turned back to the stove to hide her smile. Harry smirked and fully wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. His neck bent so his lips could find her ear. Y/N was already giggling from his breath brushing her.

"Oh, baby. I can assure you that you do," Harry whispered, purposely bumping his dented area against her ass. Y/N bit her lip and tried ignoring him as much as possible. But his warm breath running along her neck to her ear as he groaned, caused her legs to go weak.

"You're the worst," She sighed.

Harry didn't let down. Holding his girlfriend and loving up on her while she cooked. He yearned for those moments. Alone with the one person that mattered most to him.

But that wasn't always the case as he still lived in a lively frat house.

"I'm actually going to puke. Stop being such a cute fucking couple. Jesus." Before Y/N could even match the voice to a person, she was pushing Harry off of her with a gasp. Harry rolled his eyes, attaching himself right back to her.

Niall stood at the thrust of the kitchen entrance, barely able to stand up straight.

"Good morning, asswipe," Harry smiled sarcastically at him, fighting against Y/N's harsh push. "Stop it," he darkly whispered to her.

Y/N huffed, turning around to the stove while blushing profusely as she avoided Niall's eyes. Harry could read his girlfriend like the back of his hand. He knew that in her mind, couples who physically touch attract attention, which was the last thing she wanted. The problem was, Y/N lived for Harry's touch.

She was a confused mess.

Harry compromised by standing beside her, leaning on the counter with his hand holding her hip.

"What's going on down here?" Niall wandered over to the food being cooked on the stove. "Damn, Y/N. It smells amazing in here," he exclaimed, bumping shoulders with her. She smiled and shyly thanked him. Niall patted her back—unbothered and used to her usual demeanor—before moving his attention to Harry.

"Are you gonna share, fat man?" he asked, running his fingers through his thick hair.

"It's not for you," Harry smirked. "Get your own girlfriend."

Just then, four more tired, bedheaded boys appeared inside the kitchen, sniffing the air.

"It smells like a fucking restaurant in here. What the hell are you making, Y/N?" Isaiah approached her side to glance down at the food she cooked. So did the others. Harry watched his girlfriend cautiously, waiting for her to signal that she was uncomfortable and needed him to step in.

Y/N tried not to show it in front of Harry, wanting to prove that she could handle things on her own, but she still grew overwhelmed. She didn't think to cook enough for everyone, and as the boys lived in the house, it would've made sense to do so. Why didn't she think of them?

She gave up and turned to Harry, asking for help with her frown. He immediately caught on and stood up straight. "Back off, guys. It's for us. Get your own breakfast."

They all gasped in sync, loudly and dramatic, before bursting into raspy laughter. Y/N glanced over her shoulder, trying to understand why.

"Obviously, Harry," Sage rolled his eyes. He was seated on top of the island.

"We didn't expect her to cook a meal for six hungry soccer players," Flynn said. "Y/N would need multiple people to help her cook enough to fill us all up." The others laughed in agreement.

Y/N shoulders instantly relaxed, her back was to them, as she sucked in a solid breath.

"Well, good. Then stop bothering us," Harry said, holding her against him. She tried to calm down in his touch, but she still felt their eyes pointed at their connection. So, she stepped to the side.

Harry stared at her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. The others were busy in a new conversation, grabbing cereal from the pantry.

"Stop moving away from me," He growled at her.

"They're looking, Harry," she whispered. He sighed and dropped his arm from her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's fine, baby," He reassured her. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Her eyes were doe and sad when she peered up at him. "Are you mad?" He instantly shook his head, she sighed in relief, before he smiled sweetly and moved in close so their faces were almost touching.

"Never. We go PDA when you want to go PDA. It's my bad, okay?" He lifted a brow at her. Y/N puffed out a breath, glancing over at the others, who weren't paying any attention to the couple as they ate and talked.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "I like when you hold my hip, though. I don't mind that," She shrugged. Harry's heart grew for her even more, if that was possible.

"Then I shall hold your hip," He turned his voice posh, “because I am highly obsessed with it." Harry grabbed her hip and squeezed gently. Y/N smiled, before focusing on the food again.

"I guess a kiss is okay too," She whispered, not looking at him when she said it. Harry chuckled, pinching her hip that time. She squealed and tried to flinch away. He loved to watch her squirm.

"Yeah, where, baby?" He asked. "On the cheek?"

She shrugged. "On the lips is fine. Just no making out. It's cringe." Her nose shriveled.

Harry chuckled, before turning her face to his and pressing their lips gently together. They pulled away before anyone could catch them and make a snarky comment. Harry kept hold of her jaw so she was forced to look at him. Her cheeks tinted pink, and Harry couldn’t wipe the wide smirk off his face.

Neither of them noticed how the others watched, before turning away and sharing proud smiles. Their Harry was all grown up. And smitten.

-

Everyone spread across the couches, but the couple shared the loveseat. It took them a minute to decide a position as their regular one was too intimate for the boys to see. So, Harry laid with his back against the armrest and Y/N pressed to his chest. His arms rounded her waist with his chin on her shoulder.

It was still a favorite.

"Your legs are hairy," Y/N whispered, running her hand down his thigh. "I can basically braid it." She giggled at her joke.

"Don't make fun of my hair. It's manly," he scoffed, pinching her stomach. Y/N giggled under her breath. It was a heavenly sound to Harry.

"You're not very manly. You whimper," She glanced over her shoulder to catch his reaction. "Loudly too." Harry's eyes widened, darting to the others to check if they heard that.

Y/N had to place her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter because she couldn't contain it. "I do not,” He argued.

"Yes, you do. Especially when I pull your hair and scratch you," She said, raising a finger. Harry groaned, squeezing his arms tighter around her.

"Just watch the show, woman," He huffed. He placed a single kiss on her temple, before sighing. "You are very high maintenance." Y/N shrugged and snuggled closer against him.

A few beats passed with Harry thinking she dropped the topic. But his brow lifted when he heard her suddenly gasp. She twisted her upper body to face him. The maniacal smile on her lips almost scared him to death.

"What?" He dared to ask.

"You have a pain kink, don't you?" Her eyes squinted at her discovery.

Harry tried to play his reaction cool. "Maybe, maybe not," He couldn't help but quickly kiss her tempting lips. She accepted it as the lights were dimmed and the boys were focusing on the show. "Does it make me manly?"

Y/N hummed in thought. "I think so. But don't worry about being manly." She patted his shoulder and pinched his chin. "I like you just the way you are. Whimpering and all."

He snorted. "You like my whimpering? Why, you dirty dirty girl."

"Am not," she shook her head. "I am just an innocent, vanilla type of girl."

Harry knew that was far from the truth.

"Huh, really?" He spoke devilishly in her ear. She shivered. "I don't think you're telling the truth, baby. That's not being a good girl." Oh Y/N hoped no one heard the moan that just left her mouth.

She slapped Harry's chest and looked away. "Shut up. I might change my mind and not like you anymore."

"Impossible. You like me and my hairy legs," He laughed.

"I'll wax them off in your sleep," She giggled. Harry gasped, before biting her earlobe. "Stop, someone's gonna see."

"Already have. You guys suck at whispering," Niall spoke first, rolling his eyes. Y/N froze, turning to look at him. "Whatever, it's cute. Don't stress about it."

"Yeah, I do way worse PDA," Flynn waved her off.

"We know," the rest of the boys said in unison.

"Whoa, calm down. No need to yell," He muttered.

Y/N laughed, falling back into Harry's chest.

He held her. "Don't worry. We'll go our pace, okay?"

"Okay." She smiled widely. "Remember when I said I'm okay with some stuff."

Harry smirked behind her, already grabbing her jaw to turn her face.

"You don't have to tell me twice, baby." He brought their lips together, engulfing in a kiss that didn't last as long as their usual, but still contained just as much passion.

-

[crossyourmindrights]

Anything For You: Part Two

Masterlist // Announcement // Part One Rating: R (death, violence, swearing, sex) Summary: Francesca Giovanna Cartelli is the daughter of Opal and Giuseppe Cartelli, a huge Mafia Boss in New York in the 1920s, a rivalry of the likes of Al Capone. Harry Styles, the security of the neighboring mafia that the family is allied with, has been a longtime friend of the family and specifically took a liking to their daughter. Francesca and Harry have an easy-going relationship, one without pressure and too much stress, but when there’s a hit put out on Francesca and her father sends her away with Harry to be safe, everything changes.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Plymouth, Massachusetts is warm this time of year, a nice breezy weather where the women can wear their skirts and blouses and the men begin wearing shorts around town. Harry wearing shorts always provided a nicely toned view of his tattoos that he received in the British Navy, a very nice treat for his companion to admire as they drive the short distance from their house to school every day, not that that goes unnoticed by him. He enlisted in helping the American Navy recruit men for any upcoming wars rather than the police, finding the men at the station brash and likely to be enemies. Offices were down the road from Francesca’s school, perfectly safe distance for her to be herself and still have an eye kept on her at all times, making the near hour long ride every day worth the hassle. Harry would be getting his own office soon, and by this time next week, Francesca would have her degree in the mail and would be working at a pediatrician’s office in town. Everything, seemingly, was working in the best direction.

That is, it was, until today.

Catherine hooks her arm into Francesca’s as they walk through the hallways into their last laboratory class of the semester. Graduation ceremonies will be held relatively soon, but Francesca has yet to decide if she wants to participate, with everything going on in her life, it seems unfitting of her to walk across the stage with only Harry in the background cheering her on. Francesca misses her mother and father dearly and wishes there was contact to them in some way shape or form. Harry knows this and has tried to mend the heartache that fills her with friendship, but there’s only so much he can very well do.

Catherine sits beside Francesca at the laboratory, smiling brightly with a very impressive engagement ring sitting prettily on her ring finger. Her boyfriend had just proposed a few nights ago, and they’re already planning the wedding with big venues and flowers and dozens and dozens of guests. Francesca can feel the pang of jealousy washing over her as she talks so intricately about the day.

“Have you decided if you’re going to walk, Gia?”

Francesca snaps out of her trance of jealousy and smiles politely, “I don’t think I am. I think Edward is going to take me away for the weekend instead.”

“Oh, that’s such a shame! Have you got an anniversary coming up or something?”

Momentarily, Francesca pauses, unsure whether or not Catherine is a safe person to share her secret with. Surely, they’ve grown close over the last three months, and Catherine has shared more personal details about her life than Francesca thinks she’s ever shared with anyone. Catherine is a bit of an open book in that regard, and Francesca admires that, because she certainly couldn’t be. Not with everything going on. That feeling does make her miss a normal life, though, a feeling of safety to share details about herself with friends that her parents hadn’t known, that her courters hadn’t ever heard of. Mary Scott was her best friend back in New York City, the one that knew everything about her, that knew she fancied Harry (even though she never said the words) and they hadn’t seen each other in months, now. Francesca misses her, misses having someone like her around. Maybe, Francesca is searching for that in Catherine. Maybe that’s why she decides to tell her about her life, in that very moment.

“It’s just, it’s not safe for me to be at a graduation, right now,” Francesca admits solemnly, hiding her face behind her hair and scanning her eyes around the room. It’s empty. They’re the only two in the laboratory, right now. “Can I tell you something, Catherine? And you have to promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone about it, though.”

Catherine takes Francesca’s hands softly and squeezes them together in hers. “Of course, Gia. Anything! That’s what friends are for.”

“This is more than a silly, little secret, Catherine. This is my life.”

“Of course, Giovanna.”

Heaving out a heavy breath, Francesca blinks away a tear and sputters out, “I’m on the run, Catherine. There are people out there, a lot of people, that want me dead, that want Edward dead for protecting me.” Catherine looks at Francesca with such shock and disbelief, that Francesca worries she won’t believe her. Catherine squeezes her hand encouragingly, and she continues. “Giovanna isn’t even my name; Edward isn’t his name. All of this is a lie. All my records with the school are real but they’re under strict order not to give or release any information if it’s not to me or Edward. My father, my father is the reason for all of this, and although I love him, I can’t believe this is my life. I’m so tired of running. I’m tired of hiding, Catherine. I want to be free. I want to go into town and not worry about who’s lurking around the corner or who potentially knows who I am. I want to get married, like you, and have a real wedding with my friends and family and I want to have children with the love of my life! I want to grow old somewhere and have roots and a family. I have none of that. I have lies and deception and a life on the run,” she blurts everything out in a hurry before anyone can hear her, tears falling out of her eyes without her allowance. “I can’t walk at graduation because it’s not safe for me to. I’m not even sure I can stay in Cape Cod for much longer. I have a feeling they’re coming on to us and they’ll find me soon.”

“Giovanna,” Catherine sighs, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend and hugging her tightly, embracing the girl she thought she once knew. “I’m so sorry, dear. I am. Is there anything I can do? Is there anything we can do to help you and Edward?”

“Keep this a secret? Don’t even tell your fiancé. Anyone that knows can put me in danger,” Francesca sighs, wiping her eyes and turning to face the front of the classroom. “It’s nice to finally tell someone that I can trust.” Catherine nods and squeezes Francesca’s hand comfortingly, assuring her in silence that her secret is safe between them.

Catherine and Francesca don’t talk the rest of the lecture, listening carefully to their professor speak about graduation and the ending of their semester and their completion of their degree. Outside of their classroom, Harry is waiting, leaning against the car with a smile on his face and a gun holstered in his pocket, his eyes wide as he notices Catherine nod solemnly towards him and hug Francesca a bit tighter before walking towards him. Harry knows in that instant. He knows by the look on her face, the look on Francesca’s face, and the unshared looks between the two that something was said that shouldn’t have been. His anger twists in his stomach, and he knows he needs to control himself until they get home, until their thirty-minute drive is over and they’re not in the car, but something about Francesca telling their secret to a stranger without talking to him about it first irks him – maybe it’s because he has no idea who she is and what she does and what she is capable of. He certainly doesn’t know who she knows.

“Catherine, hello,” Harry smiles, maintaining a straight face and kissing Francesca’s cheek as she walks towards the passenger side of the car and opens the door. “How are you?”

“I’m well! Thank you so much for asking,” Catherine smiles falsely, and Harry can tell she’s hiding something by the way she’s staring at Francesca and pursing her lips in a tight line. Harry could always tell when people were lying, it was one of his greatest strengths in the British Navy. His leaders and commanders trusted him because of that. “I have to go, I’ll see you at Graduation, Gia!”

Harry doesn’t say a word as he gets in the car. Harry looks at his companion, his partner in this version of their story, someone he thought was his friend, and shakes his head, turning the engine and starting the car, angry and frustrated at the situation. Over the entirety of the way to Cape Cod, she remains silent, unsure of what to say to him, uncertain of what is going to come when they walk in the door of their home. His hand doesn’t even brush against hers like it normally does when they’re driving home, the radio isn’t playing, the conversations about work and school aren’t had. All of it, everything that made their lives feel normal, feels so out of touch and out of reach in this moment. Francesca knows that Harry knows. It’s impossible not to. Catherine’s incessant lying and Francesca’s nervous stares gave everything away. Harry knows everything and he’s certainly going to be angry at her and yell. That’s what Francesca is dreading the most, perhaps. Hearing Harry yell at her might be worse than hearing Father yell.

Harry walks into the house first, his fingers running through his hair frustratedly. Francesca follows suit, shutting the door and leaving her notebooks on the table next to the front door. His lips purse together as he thinks, his hands rubbing over his face as he paces up and down the hallway, his feet marking the floorboards, his breath panting between his open mouth.

“Say something, Harry,” she says finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest and sighing into the vacant air, her head aching with the thoughts of what is to come of their conversation.

“Francesca Cartelli, are you serious?” he says incredulously, shaking his head and letting his hands fall to his side, smacking his thighs and feeling his voice begin to raise with every word. “Do you really want me say something? How about this? How could you have told someone?”

“Excuse me?” she gulps nervously, shaking her head as she takes a step towards him, laying her hand on his shoulder. “Harry, what are you talking about? I haven’t told anyone.”

Harry shrugs off her touch. “Cartelli, you told someone our secret. You told Catherine.”

“How do you know that?”

Harry exasperatedly puffs out his cheeks and lets his arms flail around his body, his eyebrows furrowed together as he spits out, “It was written all over your face, Francesca! I knew as soon as you stepped out of the lecture hall, and I saw the tears on your cheeks.”

“Catherine is my friend, Harry! She wouldn’t tell anyone!” she yells back, taking a step away and sinking into herself, feeling her emotions swell into her brain and the tears well in her eyes.

“You don’t know that, Francesca! You don’t know who she knows! You have no idea who she could tell and who could come after you!”

“I’m not stupid, Harry!” she cries, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks helplessly and her hands angrily wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

Harry’s heart sinks with the sight of her tears and he immediately softens his tone. “I am here,” he breathes, sighing into his hands and letting out a frustrated moan. “Francesca, you, are here to be protected. Have you forgotten that?”

“No. Of course I haven’t! I just wanted a friend, Harry. One friend that I could be honest with. I didn’t tell her our names. I just briefly explained what our situation was like. I didn’t give details.”

“Francesca, you’re acting like a naïve, little girl.” Harry turns around and walks into the kitchen, pouring himself a drink of the whiskey sitting on the counter and sipping it resentfully. Harry looks at Francesca with a straight face, saying harshly, “You’re making my job a living hell, here.”

“Ha,” she scoffs, flailing her arms, and smacking her hands against her thighs as she raises her voice to reach his tone, “I’m making your job a living hell? This is my life that we’re talking about, Harry. I haven’t seen my father, I haven’t mourned my mother at all, I haven’t seen my city. I’m lost in all this, Harry! I don’t know who I am without all those things! I have no idea who I am in all of this.”

For the first time in months, Francesca has said it out loud. Lost. Francesca is lost in all of this, unsure of where she’s going and what she wants, what she can have.

“Lost? You have me! I’ve been here the whole time!”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want other friends, Harry! That doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel normal.”

Harry looks at Francesca with a spiteful glare and says strictly, without any emotion working through his words, “Normal was never in your cards, Francesca.”

Rolling her eyes, Francesca wipes away a stray tear on her cheek and mumbles, “Thank you for that.”

Harry takes a moment to compose himself, taking a sip from his glass and wiping his hands on his knees. “Francesca, I am trying to protect you, and you’re making my job more difficult by sharing these things with other people that we don’t know.”

Tucking her lips between her teeth, Francesca sighs and lets out a heavy breath she’s been holding in since the beginning of their argument, “I need to go for a walk.” Her eyes are glossy, and the air is thick with tension as she speaks. “I need to leave.”

“Where will you be going?” he questions hurriedly, standing from his seat and walking closely behind her as she strides towards the front door. Outside, the sun is already beginning to set, and the townspeople are beginning to make their way home for the evening. Usually, everything is shut down by seven or eight in the evening, and everyone is at home for the night by then. “Town isn’t safe for you to walk around by yourself.”

“Nowhere is safe, Harry! Haven’t you realized that by now?” she cries, running her fingers through her hair and reaching for the doorknob, a sigh of frustration passing through her lips as his hand grips her wrist protectively. “Leave me alone, Harry. I’m serious.”

“Francesca,” Harry softens, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears that have stained her cheeks. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I said, leave me alone, or I’ll call my father to come get me.”

Harry drops his hand and takes a step away, the threat of Francesca calling Giuseppe much greater a threat than her walking around the town for merely an hour or two. Francesca leaves without saying another word, without blinking in Harry’s direction, and he can feel his heart shatter into splintering pieces as soon as she walks out the front door.

Honestly, it shouldn’t have been impossible to have known that he was in love with her before that point, before the moment she was two feet out the door and walking into town without so much as a sweater to keep her warm from the misty ocean breeze, because all the signs were there. To Francesca, though, it was like looking at him with blinders on. There wasn’t a way to tell outright that the person he was referencing months ago when he said he was in love was her, and it would be simply obnoxious to assume, downright unladylike. So, Francesca walks. Francesca walks along the shoreline and passes by the closing shops and stops at the pier, where there are fishermen packing their things for the day and their wives are calling them from the edge, ready to embrace them after a long day’s work and tell them they love them.

Francesca imagines a life where that would be her, where she could be the doting wife caring for the husband. Ever since being on the run, having children of her own has been out of the question, but she can envision herself caring for the children at her office like they’re her own, all the sickly children that come in wishing for a sucker and a sticker with their mothers. Harry would come home after a long day at the office, and she’d kiss him and ask him how his day went, even though he likely wouldn’t share the gory and boring details. Harry would kiss her sweetly, offer to assist her in making their supper, and they’d relax with the radio and dance around their quaint little home, or maybe they’d watch the box that everyone’s been talking about. Either way, their life would be peaceful and loving, everything she’s always wanted.

Thump.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” she instantly apologizes as she runs into a man walking in the opposite direction. Her head picks up slightly to make out the face of her neighbor, Antonio Enteralgia. Harry had introduced them to him on their second day in town when he was working on his car in the drive. “Antonio, hello.”

“Hi, dear,” he says, setting his fishing pole to the side of the pier and his tackle box on the ground. “Is Edward nearby? It’s a long way from where you should be this late.”

“I know. I needed some fresh air.” Francesca knew that Antonio was old-fashioned, and he certainly wouldn’t approve of her being out so late by herself. He reminded her of her father in a way, protective in nature, yet kind when approached by the right people. “I hadn’t realized I walked this far until I made it to the pier. I should be getting back, now. I’m sure Edward is worried sick. I’m sorry for running into you.”

“I can take you home, Giovanna. It’s no worry at all. Come with me.”

Nodding graciously towards Antonio, Francesca turns on her heel and begins to walk towards the edge of the pier alongside her neighbor. Over the next twenty or so minutes, their drive into town is silent, with the hum of the engine filling the car’s echo. Antonio talks about his wife and daughter, and Francesca stares solemnly out the window. Antonio’s analog clock reads, 7:45, meaning that she’s been away from Harry for nearly three hours.

Harry must be worried. Harry must be angry.

Getting out of the car with their neighbor’s assistance, she thanks him quietly, embarrassment on her cheeks, and walks the short distance to their house, knocking quietly on the front door. Immediately, Harry comes to the door, hesitantly reaching for the doorknob. “Harry, it’s me.”

Harry swings the door open, “Thank God.” Harry pulls Francesca inside, wrapping his arms around her tightly and kissing her hair instinctively, ignoring the guilty feeling in his chest when he does so. He grabs her face, cupping her cheeks roughly and says, “Don’t ever do that, again. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you. Okay?”

Harry lets go of her face and shuts the door behind her, pushing her inside and towards the kitchen, “Not okay! God, Francesca, if something happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Harry, why do you care so much? Especially since I make your job hell?”

Harry sighs, “I didn’t mean that, Francesca. I was angry.”

Francesca shakes her head, “That surely makes me feel better. Thank you.”

“Francesca,” he says slowly, walking towards her and taking her hands in his, “listen to me. I will do anything to protect you. That means laying my life on the line. I need you to help me, so that we both may live.”

“Why, Harry? Why do you want to protect me so badly?”

Harry lets her hands go and groans, running his hands over his face and turning on his heel as he walks away from her. He turns dramatically and shouts, “Because I love you! I’m in love with you, Francesca! I have been since the very first time I saw you in that bloody speakeasy!”

“You what?”

“God damnit! I love you,” Harry yells, shaking his head and letting his hands hit his thighs like earlier, a similar fashion to how he’s behaved when he’s upset and angry. Francesca has only seen this side of him a handful of times. “I love you and I want to see you alive. I want to see you happy. That’s my only motivation in this. I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the protection. I don’t care about any of it. I only care about you, Francesca. And it would ruin my life, it would ruin everything about me if you weren’t around. I do this all for you!”

Francesca looks at Harry with astonishment, her eyes wide and her heart swelling so deeply in her chest that she’s unsure of how to feel, how to properly express how she’s feeling. Francesca has never felt a love like this before, has never felt love in a romantic way before. All that she feels is this epic version of a love story that she’s never experienced before. “You love me.”

“Yes. Yes, of course I love you. Haven’t I made that abundantly clear? You, you, Francesca Giovanna Cartelli are my epic love that I have so desperately wanted all my life, that I fought for in the war. That’s why I gave you my mother’s ring. That’s why I was the one to bring you out here. That’s why I’m risking my life for you. Because I love you!” Harry says dramatically, puffing out a breath when he’s finished with his speech and staring at her, waiting for her to respond with something, anything.

“I love you, too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Harry,” Francesca says softly, stepping forward and standing in front of Harry quietly, bravely grabbing his cheeks and pressing her lips to his. “I love you, too. I do.”

Harry leans his forehead against Francesca’s, running his hands along her sides and holding her tightly, his arms circling around her waist, “Don’t ever scare me like that, again. It will kill me, Francesca.”

“Promise.”

“You are my life, Francesca.” Harry blinks slowly and licks his lips, trying to emphasize what he’s saying to her, because he means it, wholeheartedly, “Understand that, please.”

Francesca nods, “I do, I understand.”

Harry sighs and takes a step back, running his hands over Francesca’s face and shoulders, “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I just went on a walk, Harry. I’m not hurt. I only saw Antonio. Antonio actually drove me home.”

“I’m making sure. That was kind of him. I’ll thank him tomorrow for making sure you found yourself home safely. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“’Cause you love me,” she smiles, a blush finding a way onto her cheeks as she tucks her chin to her chest, a smile itching at the corners of her mouth as he tucks his finger under her chin and encourages her to look into his eyes. “More than I thought you loved me, if I might add.”

“More than I’ve ever loved another person, ever,” he swears to the highest power listening, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing her against his chest. “My epic love.”

“And you, mine.”

Harry sighs again, and Francesca looks at him inquisitively, cocking her head to the side, as he leans his head back against his neck with annoyance. “That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“I don’t mind,” Francesca says to assure him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair softly. “How did you want to tell me?”

“More romantic than that,” he admits, swaying their bodies quietly under the shining moonlight shining through the window. “Not by arguing with you.”

“Can’t always get what we want, now can we?”

“All right, all right, Francesca,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head and leaning in towards her, kissing her sweetly and soaking in the heavenly feeling of her mouth on his. “I love you, my darling Francesca. My epic love of all time.”

Francesca smiles widely, giggling happily in Harry’s arms as he twirls her around in the middle of their quaint, little house. Cape Cod feels safe, warm. It’s home, so to speak. For once in Francesca’s life, there is something that makes sense. Harry, Harry makes sense.

~

Francesca Cartelli celebrates her graduation from medical school on the beach, as opposed to inside the school where hundreds of people could hear her name be called across the stage. Harry decides it’s safest this way, and as asked, Francesca complies. Graduation gowns never suited her anyways, she says to him, and Harry laughs at that with a kiss to her cheek as they walk from the town square, but he knows, deep down, that she is disappointed. He does his very best to make up for the fact that she can’t have a normal life, a normal graduation, a normal friendship with anyone nowadays, even with Catherine, with whom she has still stayed in contact with post-graduation. Harry made her the singular exception after doing some digging around at work and coming to the realization that she, in fact, was an innocent girl in the mix of all this. Catherine Helms is simply a naïve friend to Francesca, also determined to keep her safe at all costs. And for that, Harry is grateful.

“Could I have another drink?” Francesca wonders from the beach blanket, her olive skin tanning nicely in the sun. “For the way to the ocean. The water is calling my name, I think.”

“You’ll get caught and get us all in trouble, Francesca,” Harry warns, shaking his head and keeping his flask hidden in pocket, away from prying eyes. He’s noticed that the neighbor, Antonio, has been a bit more watchful of them lately, and he’s certainly keeping his eyes on him. He doesn’t need anything getting back to Giuseppe. God forbid. It might end his whole life. “I’d rather not have a bullet in my brain because my girl is caught drinking on the beach.”

Lifting her head from her towel, Francesca smirks, “Your girl, huh?” Harry is lying face down on the towel beside her, his face turned towards her as he lays on his hands. His left hand adorns a wedding ring that she wishes she put there; instead, he delicately slides it on his finger every morning before giving her a kiss and leaving the house. Laying there with him, in the hum of the Saturday afternoon rush, everything feels eerily calm, like this is how it was always meant to be – just the two of them. Francesca leans over and kisses Harry’s arm, smiling brightly at him as he puckers his lips and waits for her to kiss him. She does so, happily.

“That’s what you are, my darling.” Harry smiles at her, a smile that, over the last few weeks, she’s become accustomed to seeing. His face is always hardened when he arrives home from work, Francesca’s come to notice, complaining that the cadets aren’t listening, the officers and lieutenants don’t know what they’re doing. His lips are pursed in a straight line and there are wrinkles lining his forehead, that is until he sees her. Until he sees Francesca waiting in the living room with a mug of tea, listening to the radio, humming along to everything he’s saying. He suddenly stops, smiling this undeniable grin, and walks towards her, kissing her mouth sweetly and mumbling that he’s happy to be home. Because that’s what she is. Home.

“Will you come in the water with me?” she wonders innocently, laughing quietly to herself when his arm slings over her waist and brings her into his chest, kissing her shoulder and neck. Her voice lowers to a whisper, ensuring that only he could hear her. “Harry, I’m talking to you.”

“As you can see, I’m a bit preoccupied, Francesca,” Harry laughs devilishly, pressing his lips along her skin and making his way towards her mouth. “I am simply enamored by you.”

“Anyone on the beach could tell,” Francesca smirks, turning her head slightly and capturing his lips by hers. “Come swimming with me.”

“Fine, fine,” Harry concedes, shoving the flask beneath his shirt and standing on his feet, holding out his hands for Francesca to grab and help her upright. “Let’s go, my love. The things I do for you.”

“Oh, I know.”

Harry and Francesca walk to the ocean together, the waves hitting against their legs as they walk into the water hand-in-hand. Francesca’s skin shivers with goosebumps, Harry laughing at her reaction and rubbing his hands along her arms to warm her. She looks at him affectionately, smiling brightly, and kisses his cheek as though to say ‘thank you’ without saying a word. He knows. Francesca immediately warms to the ocean, diving in and letting the water wet her hair and playfully pulling Harry in along with her, his body laying lightly on hers as she floats along the sea.

And for a while, Francesca and Harry say nothing, simply basking in the sunlight and the silence between them and the children laughing and the parents shouting and the couples kissing around them. Quiet is peaceful, and Harry likes it that way. Until, of course, Francesca starts thinking aloud.

“Do you want children?” she asks, very evidently asking him. Her fingers are brushing through his hair, his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her against his chest, her legs wrapped around his hips. “Like, in the future, I mean.”

“Honestly, I’ve never thought that far ahead, Francesca. Maybe I did when I was in love before you, but now my priority is to keep you safe, from everything. I don’t think children bode well in the mix of that. Especially when we won’t know if we must move or stay on the run for a while,” he says very seriously, as though he’s thought about it before. Francesca believes that he’s thought all his answers through before she’s even asked the question. “Do you?”

“Not particularly,” she admits, and for the first time, she feels as though the answer is taken for truth. “I’ve never seen myself quite fit to be a mother. I’m quite selfish in what I want. I want you to myself.”

“That’s quite all right. I like having you to myself, anyways,” Harry hums, smirking as Francesca slides his sunglasses onto his head, her eyes meeting his. “I just want you to have the life you want, Francesca. That’s what I’ll give you.” He can tell that she’s thinking carefully about what she wants to say. “Say what you’re thinking, my love.”

Hesitating for a moment, she takes his silence to be muster the bravery to say what she’s thinking, “I wish I was the one that put the wedding ring on your finger. I wish we were really married, not faking it with fake names and a fake house. I wish this was real. More permanent.”

He sighs and maneuvers one hand around her body and runs it through his hair, pushing a stray curl away from his forehead. He leans his forehead against hers and whispers, “This can be as real as we want it to be, darling.”

“It’ll never be real if we’re not really married, Harry. If we’re not really living. We’re hiding, right now. Hiding from the mafia and the people that want me dead and more importantly, we’re hiding us from my father.”

Harry sighs and drops his chin to his chest. “I’m only hiding us because I fear your father will have an adverse reaction to us announcing that we’re seeing each other, dear. I would hope that one day I may marry you really, and I can’t very well do that if I have a bullet in the brain.”

“I just want you,” Francesca sighs, sliding his sunglasses back to his eyes and leaning her forehead against his own, their lips barely brushing against each other. It’s dangerous, very dangerous for them to be this public about their affection, but in a moment like this, where everything else is uncertain, the certainty of their love feels securing and safe.

“You have me, my dear. I am telling you the utmost truth about that. You have me until the day I die. Whether that be tomorrow or fifty years from now.”

Francesca breathes in and impulsively presses her lips against Harry’s, kissing him deeply and passionately, forgetting everyone that is staring at them in the ocean, namely their intrusive neighbor who seems to want to know more and more about them than any normal neighbor would. Francesca kisses Harry and doesn’t care who’s watching, for once in her life, not caring about the consequences of her actions. All Francesca wants is to kiss Harry, the man of her dreams, and feel his body on hers.

“Francesca,” Harry breathes against her lips.

“I like it when you say my whole name,” she murmurs, smirking against his lips. “Have I ever said that before? I know I say I hate it, but it sounds so sweet coming from you.”

“Trust me, honey,” he mumbles, adjusting his swimming trunks with a grunt. “That’s nothing compared to what will be coming out of my mouth.”

“I want you to take me somewhere,” Francesca whispers seductively, smiling to herself as Harry shuts his eyes and swallows thickly. “I want you to do all the things you’ve dreamed about doing to me.”

“Only place I can take you is our house, darling, and that’s not nearly good enough for your first moment like this.”

“Anything we have is good enough for me, Harry. Anything you have is good enough for me.”

“Is that so, Miss Cartelli?”

“It is so, Mr. Styles.” Francesca leans in towards Harry’s ear and kisses his jaw teasingly, saying beneath her breath, “Take me home.”

Harry nearly rushes to carry her out of the water, his swimming trunks much too tight around his legs as he grows hard between his thighs. Francesca laughs loudly, drawing attention from onlookers and passerby, ignoring the harping stares of their neighbor from across the pathway. Harry hurriedly gathers their belongings into the bag they brought with them, not daring to leave behind the flask that was tucked between their clothes. Francesca dresses herself in a hurried fashion, meeting Harry’s speed, and grabs his hand before he can walk away without her. Harry looks back, and impulsively kisses her, not caring about what anyone has to say.

Francesca believes they could cut the tension between them with a knife on their walk home. Harry locks the gate behind him, setting their belongings on the outside dining table and unlocks the back door with a haste, laying his hand on her lower back and ushering her inside before anyone passing by could stop them from doing exactly what has been on their minds for weeks, since their confession of love and since they began sleeping between the same sheets.

Francesca turns around and immediately falls into Harry’s arms, his hands grabbing her cheeks and kissing her deeply, with the utmost passion, saying everything that he’s failed to say until then. Harry gently tugs at the end of Francesca’s shirt, daring to ask for permission to take it off. Francesca nods slowly, swallowing her words, and lifting her arms for him.

“Are you nervous?” he says softly, trying to read the expression on her face and make sure that she’s alright with what they’re about to be doing. “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Francesca.”

Her hand brushes through his hair and lays gently on his neck, her mouth pecking his cheek assuredly, “Harry, I know you’ll take care of me. I’m not nervous.”

“I love you,” Harry tells her firmly, as though she wouldn’t believe him if he said it any more softly than his usual tone. He nudges his finger under her chin and lifts it to make their eyes meet, saying, “More than anything. You know that, right?”

“I know, and I love you. I trust you.”

Harry takes Francesca’s hand softly, kissing her knuckles, leading her into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. He walks towards the window to draw the curtains closed, and says, “I don’t want anyone to see you how I’m about to see you.”

“Could sound a bit selfish if you say that to the wrong people.”

Harry looks over his shoulder and draws the curtains shut, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. “Call me selfish, then, because I’m not one to share.”

“Come here,” she says from behind him, delicately pulling her skirt from her waist and unfashioning her bathing suit from her torso.

He quickly stops her, “You’re not meant to undress yourself, my love. That’s for me to do.”

“You’re taking quite a while, Mr. Styles, and I’m beginning to grow impatient.”

Harry snorts a laugh and wraps his arms around her midsection, kissing her deeply and running his hands along her half naked body. He’s never touched her like this before, felt her skin so raw beneath his fingertips. Out of every sensation on their skin, each is new and unfiltered, going unscathed by any thoughts or fears. It feels so forbidden, so, unlike him. Even when Harry was in love before this, before Francesca, before the war, he never touched a woman like this, especially a woman that he was not betrothed to. He nearly stutters in his movements, the excitement beginning to get to his brain.

“I want to take you to bed, my dear.”

“No one is stopping you.”

Harry scoops his arms beneath Francesca’s knees and back, lifting her in his arms, smirking when she squeaks in reply. Instinctively, she hides her face in his neck, giggling loudly when he playfully tosses her onto the mattress, yanking his shirt off his torso and laying it in the middle of the floor with hers. He pauses for a moment, basking in the heavy breathing and the tension in the air. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, Francesca.”

“More sure than anything else before.”

“I love you,” Harry says, walking towards the bed and climbing above her, his hands holding his weight on her body and his hair falling against her forehead, “so much.”

“I love you.”

Harry and Francesca kiss. Deeply and passionately. More than either of them has ever felt before. It’s like the world stops in that moment, and the only thing that matters is him and her and what they feel for each other and how it will be the most epic love story ever told.

Harry and Francesca make love. Slowly and lovingly. Easing into the motions and feeling everything that each other has to offer. It’s then, when Harry is at his deepest point inside of Francesca and her legs have fallen loosely around his waist and his face is tucked inside her neck, heavy pants breathing against her warm skin, that Harry and Francesca know there’s no going back to what was. Harry and Francesca have set their epic love story into motion.

Harry and Francesca have changed the trajectory of their lives forever.

~

Outrageous banging on the front door. That’s what wakes Harry from his peaceful slumber with Francesca tucked into his side. Francesca is still naked, having fallen asleep so peacefully after making love beneath the shining moonlight, Harry – who had slipped away for a glass of water throughout the night – adjusted his trousers and shirt and delicately closed the bedroom door, ensuring that she might stay asleep in the midst of the chaos that was about to ensue.

Only one person knew of their location. Only one person knew where they would be and who they were. Only one person could possibly be here.

Unless.

Giuseppe Cartelli is standing at the front door when Harry walks through the wooden hallway. Harry sighs of relief, only to suck in a harsh breath when he notices the artillery held at Giuseppe’s side. He calmly – although in sheer panic inside – opens the front door, gesturing for her father to step inside, his hand turning on the lights of the foyer to greet them.

“Giuseppe, what’s wrong? Have they found us?”

Giuseppe is fuming, foaming at the mouth when Harry says ‘us’ and immediately lifts the gun to his head. “I told you to look after her, to keep her safe! Not to have sex with her, Styles! Tell me, what’s stopping me from putting a bullet through your skull, right now? Hm? Anything?”

Harry swallows thickly, “I’ve kept my word, haven’t I? I’ve kept her safe. I’ve made sure no one came in contact with her, while also making sure she has a good life. That’s what you asked me to do.” Harry knows that he’s already made up his mind, shaking his head and falling to his knees. “It appears that you’ve already made up your mind. Fine. Put a bullet through my skull, Giuseppe, but I upheld my end of the deal.”

“My daughter sleeping with you wasn’t part of the deal, Harry. Last time I checked, the deal was, you keep Frankie out of harm’s way, I keep your family safe. That was our deal, Styles.”

“How did you even know, Giuseppe? It’s not like Francesca and I have it plastered everywhere! Who told you? Who saw us?” Giuseppe looks at Harry and looks to the neighbor’s house through the window. “Fuckin’ Antonio.”

“He kept his eye on you. Made sure you two were safe. There I am, in New York City, worried that my daughter is being chased, while I should’ve been worried that you’d be sleeping with her!”

Harry’s voice is raised, and he’s sure that he can hear Francesca rattling about in the bedroom in search of clothing. He hurriedly begins speaking, worried that she won’t have enough time. “Had Antonio not ratted us out and you barging in here, no one would know! Francesca is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Francesca sleeping with me was of her own accord.”

“One more word out of your mouth and this bullet is going straight through your brain,” Giuseppe threatens, cocking the gun and loading a bullet into the weapon.

“I don’t care what you want to do to me.” Harry gulps, swallowing his nervousness. “I know you, Giuseppe. You made up your mind long before you came here to talk to me. You want me dead. I’m a threat to you and your family because I make your daughter have a voice in what matters. I’m done playing the part. I have lived my life; I have loved an epic love. One worthy of dying over. Just, let me tell Francesca that I love her. That’s all I ask of you.”

Harry’s eyes flutter shut at the hushed sound of her voice, her feet bare and creaking against the wooden flooring. “Daddy, don’t do this.” Francesca’s voice is coming out hushed and soft. “Daddy, please.”

Giuseppe doesn’t turn away from Harry. “Frankie, there is a car outside. Get inside it.”

“No.”

His head immediately turns towards his daughter, “What?”

“I won’t. I won’t let you hurt Harry,�� Francesca takes a step forward dangerously, ignoring Harry’s intense glare and warning blinks. “Harry’s been protecting me for months. He’s done everything you asked. Don’t hurt him. Don’t go back on your word.”

“My word means nothing, Frankie. Better you learn that now than later.”

One step forward. One step towards Harry. Francesca can barely make out the scratch that’s bleeding on his forehead. “Your word meant something to Mother. Don’t let that go in vain, Daddy.”

“Don’t bring your mother into this!”

“Mother has everything to do with this! You were her epic love, Daddy. You did no wrong in her eyes. You were everything to her, despite all the bad you did, all the bad you do. Can’t you see that’s how I feel about Harry? Daddy, I love him.” Harry suddenly looks at Francesca. Love is something they’ve felt, but never said to other people, only each other. Unspoken words that were left unsaid in the midst of the messy sheets and sloppy kisses. Francesca steps forward again. “Don’t take my epic love away from me.”

Giuseppe looks his daughter in the eyes, trying to gauge whether or not she’s trying to spare the man’s life for her sake or his. “Harry Styles is not your epic love, Francesca, you’re only twenty-six.”

“Mother met you at eighteen!”

“Mother and I were very different.”

“How so?”

“You’re not fit to be in love, Francesca.”

“You sent me to live with Harry because someone, somewhere has a death wish for me. Harry became my friend, and yes, I fell in love with him. Maybe that’s because he was protecting me, or maybe it’s because he was my only friend, or maybe it’s because there’s something between us that I very well can’t explain! Either way, how dare you take away my chance at a great love like what you had with Mother because you don’t see me fit to be in love. That’s cruel, Daddy, and Mother wouldn’t stand for it.”

Giuseppe nearly drops his gun at that, but quickly recovers. “Mother wouldn’t want to see you walking around sleeping with every man you’ve met, Francesca.”

Harry scoffs uncontrollably. Harry’s chuckle and smirk earns a smack to the lip with the heel of the gun.

“Happy to report it’s only been Harry, then, Daddy.” Francesca jumps forward, now, laying her hand on her father’s, trying desperately to break where the gun is sitting against Harry’s temple. “Harry’s good to me. He is. I love him and I love the little family that we have together, even though it’s a secret. I love him, Daddy. Don’t take this away from me.”

“Family?”

“Me and Harry and,” Francesca looks away from her father and looks down, her stomach laying flat as her hand cups the underside. Harry looks at her incredulously. He certainly hadn’t expected her to say that, and he certainly didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not.

Francesca couldn’t be pregnant. Logistically, she couldn’t be. For a multitude of reasons. Namely and primarily, because Harry hadn’t finished inside of her, to start with.

Harry keeps a straight face to maintain composure, to try and follow through with the lie. Giuseppe clearly believes her when he says, “Francesca Giovanna,” in his strictest tone yet.

“It just happened, Daddy. I love Harry. I do. Harry loves me, too. He does, and you must see that. Can’t, you can’t hurt him, or else you’re hurting me.”

“Get up,” Giuseppe breaks. “Get up, Styles.” He swallows thickly, “I’m not going to kill you, today. My daughter just spared your life.”

“Well, sir, I would, but I fear with a gun to my head that that may be a trap.”

Francesca looks Giuseppe in the eyes, her eyes a carbon copy of his own, and wishes one last time, “Daddy, put the gun away, please.”

“Fine.” Giuseppe Cartelli, for what very well could be the first time in his life, puts his gun away without firing. “Get up, Styles, before I really do something.”

“Are you okay?” Francesca says hurriedly, holding out her hand and gently tracing over Harry’s face, eyes the blood beginning to spread at the temple and slightly on his bottom lip. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt, Harry.”

Harry gently cups her cheeks and whispers, “My love, I’m fine.”

Everything is quiet for a moment, Francesca wrapping her arms tightly around Harry’s neck, repeatedly kissing his cheeks for comfort, his hands splayed across her lower back, holding her tightly to his chest and wishing now, more than ever, they were alone to simply rest.

Almost eerily, the telephone in the kitchen begins to ring. Giuseppe quickly recovers from his thoughts, “Stay here.” Harry and Francesca nod, trying to listen to the conversation from the room next door and barely making out the words, “Alright, okay. I hear you, Stefan. Goodbye.”

Francesca steps away from Harry and immediately rushes to her father’s side, “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

Giuseppe ignores Francesca’s hurried, fearful question, and looks to Harry, determination and maybe even the slightest bit of fear in his eyes and says, “Harry, you love my daughter?”

Harry steps forward. “More than anything. I would lay down my life for her, Giuseppe. She’s everything to me. You must know that.”

“I need you to take Francesca far away from here.” Giuseppe doesn’t dare to look at Francesca, if he does, he will crack. He looks Harry straight in the eyes and swallows thickly, using his most even tone to say, “You will take her far away; you will marry her. Change her last name. Change everything.”

Harry and Francesca both tilt their heads in confusion. “What?”

“If you love her and your child, you will do this for them, do you understand me?” Giuseppe takes a step forward, laying his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If you respect me, you will do this for me.”

“But Daddy!”

“No, Frankie! They’ve raided our house and killed everyone guarding your whereabouts in my office, in our home. They found out that you’ve been staying here with Harry. They know you’re here. They’re coming for you both. You don’t have much time.”

“Daddy, I don’t want to go. I love it here. I want to stay.”

“I know, I know,” Giuseppe says softly, turning around and kissing Francesca’s forehead softly. “I love you, Francesca. Love you more than anything, but you must go. Mother wouldn’t want you to get caught in all this.”

“Francesca,” Harry says daringly, reaching out and grabbing her hand gently, “darling, we must go. It’s not safe here, anymore. They’ll be here before we know it.”

“I can’t leave my father behind, Harry!”

“He’ll be okay. We’ll write and send photographs. Father will be okay. Get to the car. Let me grab some things you’ll need.”

“Daddy,” Francesca cries, wrapping her arms around her father’s midsection and hugging him tightly. She doesn’t know when she’ll see him again, and the thought of it terrifies her. Harry in her life or not, she needs her family.

“Go, Frankie! Listen to Harry.”

Harry pries Francesca from her father’s hold, grabbing her cheeks and whispering, “Through the back entrance, my love. Go straight to the car. Go.”

“Harry, don’t be long. They’ll come for you, too.”

“I’ll meet you; I promise. Francesca, you won’t be alone.”

Francesca runs outside and to the car, suddenly feeling very afraid and exposed to the world. Her clothing is modest, she dressed what felt to be appropriate for hearing her father booming at her lover in the corridor, and yet everything feels to be a bit too much for someone on the run. Hurriedly, she locks the doors, sinking into the seat and trying to breathe in and out as smoothly as possible. This all happened so quickly, so absurdly fast. There’s no way this is real.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Francesca nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound.

“Open the car, my love.” Harry is standing outside her window. Francesca opens the door and takes a breath for the first time in minutes. “Here, a sweater for you.”

Francesca looks down and notices the gun holstered to Harry’s hip, “You have my father’s gun.”

Harry sighs and brushes a stray hair away from her cheek reassuringly, “He’s okay, dear. Giuseppe has people on the way and is friends with the coppers here. They’re on their way, now. But they’ll try to take you if we don’t hurry soon.” He shuts her door quietly and hurries around to the driver’s seat. Getting in and starting the engine, the first thing he does is takes her hand in his, holding it tightly to comfort her. His left hand still adorns the faux wedding band, as does hers.

For some while, Francesca is silent, simply staring out the window with tears on her cheeks, her temple cold against the cool glass. Harry doesn’t say a word, simply letting her feel her emotions and bask in the silence until she’s ready.

“Harry, I have no one left.”

Harry sighs deeply, “I know it feels that way, but you have me, Francesca. You’ll always have me.”

“Mother is gone,” she whispers, barely above her breath, as though someone is listening to her unspoken truths. “Father can’t contact me.”

“Obviously the situation isn’t ideal, but you have me, and we’ll find a way to keep in contact with your father. I promise that we will.”

Francesca doesn’t say anything for a moment, gathering her courage. “Harry, I have to tell you something, before you think too much of it, and I feel horribly for lying to you as our world falls apart.”

“Darling, you don’t have to say anything. I know.”

“You know?” she says confusedly, finally turning her head to stare at him. “Harry, I’m not actually pregnant. There’s no baby. I just, I didn’t know how else to get my father to leave you alone.”

“I know, my dear. I know.” Harry squeezes her hand and kisses the back of it sweetly. “There’s no way you could be pregnant, I knew you were lying. I could tell.”

“I just, I had to say something to make my father lose his guard a bit, to get him to put the gun down.”

He sighs knowingly, licking at his bottom lip that has finally stopped bleeding. “That was wrong to tell him that, Francesca. Now, you and me, we have even bigger problems. We will solve them, though. Together.”

“Why is that?”

“Because,” Harry breathes out, shaking his head and tightening his grip on her hand and the steering wheel. “He’s going to expect you to send photographs and things of a child that we don’t have. Family that we haven’t started yet. Although I know your intentions were pure, this may have caused more harm than good for us in the long run.”

“I, I didn’t think that far ahead. I just wanted the gun to be put down. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“I know, my love, I know.”

And the rest of the remaining day is driven in silence, as the sun rises over the mountains and the trees sway in the wind. Francesca looks behind her, noting the degree tucked between the suitcases that Harry always had packed away in their wardrobe as a “just in case” precaution. Francesca never believed him when he said they might need it one day.

Francesca never believed that things would get this bad, that she and Harry would have to run away again, and yet here they are, driving to an unknown destination on that dreaded day.

~

THREE MONTHS LATER

Harry and Francesca found themselves settling in a quaint, little town about ten minutes from Oregon’s center. It had everything they wanted – the police force for Harry, the pediatricians’ offices for Francesca, the flower fields and the large patches of land, the space to roam and grow and feel as though they weren’t stuck in hiding, rather, making a new life for themselves. Harry’s time in Germany with the British Mediterranean Fleet led him to good standing with the force and Francesca felt safe knowing that he was working to protect the city, and more importantly, to protect her. Francesca was graciously accepted into a new practice in town, her degree hanging proudly in her office with her name and shiny new nameplate. Francesca has yet to change her last name legally, but that isn’t to say that she’s not anticipating doing so. She knows her safety and her life rests in the hands of Harry protecting her, and the thought of marrying him is not so unappealing. After all, they’re madly and deeply in love.

Francesca and Harry’s routine is nearly the same every day, apart from the days they go into town and have dinner with their friends that they’ve made around the neighborhood. Harry, who still wears his wedding band, and Francesca, who still wears Harry’s mother’s engagement ring, have admittedly told people that they’re married simply to avoid the questioning of a young couple living together before they’ve properly dated, engaged, and married. Harry finds that he’s taken much more seriously as a married man. Francesca, who goes by Mrs. Styles, at the office, finds the same. Marriage, although something they’ve begun to talk about more seriously, has always seemed so farfetched from reality, that neither of them fully believe that this is a decision that is being made on their own, which may be the very reason Harry has waited three months since running from Cape Cod to properly propose.

Harry has a plan. Maybe that’s a bit of a gracious term to be saying, but he has an idea. An idea that he believes will work well.

Harry, upon entering the master bedroom while she bathes for the evening, takes the engagement ring from her nightstand, and tucks it away in his pocket for safekeeping. He knows that he wants to use it, again, to properly propose this time, but the only way he would be able to get without her knowing is if he’s made her think she’s lost it. Obviously, a terrible rouse, but it would have to do for this time, for this occasion. Francesca would forgive him in the long run – or so he wants to believe – and it would be worth it to see her smile knowing she’s a properly engaged woman. Harry knows that’s what she wants, and he is willing to do anything to give that to her. After all, Harry promised her that he would give her everything.

It doesn’t take more than twelve hours for Francesca to realize that ring is missing.

It’s early in the morning, after they’ve made love all night and rested very little, when Francesca wakes and turns to her bedside table to do her daily routine of sliding her ring on her finger and her medallions around her neck – the medallions that her father gave her at her christening when she was just an infant – and when she realizes the ring isn’t there, she begins to worry. Francesca checks the drawers, beneath the glass plate that typically holds her jewelry, beneath her bed, wondering if she and Harry had knocked it over when they were rolling beneath the sheets. Her heart sinks to her stomach when she realizes that it’s nowhere to be found, and she wonders if she left it at her office by accident, in the little plate by her notepad and nameplate where she usually tucks her ring to avoid it being snagged on her rubber gloves.

Francesca is nearly ready to burst into tears when she hears the door creak open and sees Harry’s face poke through the door, presumably to see if she’s awake.

Harry interrupts her thoughts with a cup of coffee and a bright smile, “Good morning, my love.” The sight of Harry alone comforts her enough to dry the tears that have welled in her eyes. Surely, she must’ve left the ring at the office. That’s the only other place she’d left it. She’ll retrieve it on Monday, and everything will be fine. “Coffee?”

“Good morning,” she hums, tucking the duvet around her naked chest and moving her legs beneath the sheets to allow him to sit beside her. Their Sundays are typically like this, calm and easy, and she prefers it that way. It reminds her that for once in her life, she, Francesca Cartelli is a normal person. “Thank you.”

“Is everything all right, dear?”

“It is, I’m fine, I just,” she sighs, taking a sip of her coffee and setting it on her bedside table. “I must’ve left my ring at the office. I don’t like leaving it there, and I swore I brought it home with me, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere, and that’s the last place it could be.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it at the office, my love. Not something to worry about today,” he assures her, smiling warmly and kissing her forehead. Her lips pucker at the sensation, waiting for the kiss that would jolt all her nerves and wake her up firmly for the day. Harry chuckles and happily obliges, kissing her sweetly and not once, but twice, before pulling away. “I’d like to go to one of those flower fields, today, if you’d like. We’ll have a picnic and spend the day there.”

“Ooh, that sounds lovely. What time did you want to leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready for the day, my dear. No rush. Have your coffee, steal your kisses, get yourself ready. I have some work to attend to in the office and then I’ll be ready.”

Francesca nods and takes another sip of her coffee, smiling at him from behind her mug. Harry knows they’ve been talking about going to the flower fields all summer, but have yet to go because of their busy schedules, so the thought of going isn’t drawing suspicion from his lover, more so, the distraction of not knowing that her ring is in his bedside table is eating away at her. “I love you,” she says suddenly, setting her coffee down and draping her arms over his shoulders.

“I love you more, Francesca,” Harry grins, maneuvering their bodies slightly so she’s laying back down on their pillows and he’s hovering above her. “Love you more than life itself.” He kisses her delicately, as though she may break if he kisses her too deeply, and he chuckles when she whines and kisses him harder. “Made me love life again.”

“I did?”

“Very much so.”

Francesca smiles and lightly kisses Harry once more, basking in the sunlight peeking through their curtains and the way his body feels on top of hers, her hands running through his hair. Her heart is pounding against his ear, and the rhythm makes his eyes flutter shut. He could fall asleep like this, in the comfort of her arms. He does, most nights, not caring what that would say about his masculinity or manliness. Harry didn’t mind what that would say about him, all that mattered was what Francesca thought and how she felt, and, in that moment, she felt more in love with him than ever before, in their tiny cottage in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon, right along the beach, where their lives had only just begun with each other and for the rest of their days.

To love is to consume you, and by God, was Harry consumed by Francesca’s love.

~

Harry and Francesca walk hand in hand through the flower fields, admiring the tulips and the roses and the sunflowers blooming in the warm summer air. Francesca is wearing her favorite dress, the one with embroidered suns and moons on the skirt and the plain baby blue silk bodice that accentuates her chest and her olive skin. Harry is in his most famous Sunday Best, his leather shoes and khaki shorts and a neatly ironed shirt that Francesca insisted on re-ironing this morning to ensure that it matched her own outfit. Carrying the picnic basket (with the ring tucked inside), Harry leads Francesca through the fields, settling in the patch of the park that overlooks the flowers and the sunshine is beating down on the grass and the wind is brushing through their hair just right. Harry lays the blanket down gently, smiling brightly at his lover as she basks in the sunlight and the breeze and the way she feels with the love of her life by her side.

Harry knows he’s going to do it any minute, and so when Francesca turns around and Harry’s on one knee with the engagement ring held between his fingertips, the gasp that leaves her mouth makes him chuckle, and the “Harry, what are you doing?” makes him smile brightly.

“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do since the day you turned eighteen, Francesca, since I saw you in Landmark’s Tavern, since we danced together and I knew it was love at first sight,” Harry says surely, as though nothing has been more certain for anything in his life. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life, nor have I have ever loved anyone as much as I love you. I’m not perfect with my words and I’m not sure where our lives are headed, but I want to do everything with you.” Francesca’s hand covers her mouth as Harry continues to speak, the excitement and love in her eyes enough to make him continue. “I’ve imagined this proposal a dozen times over the last ten years, and I would do anything for it to be perfect for you. I would do anything to make your life exactly what you want it to be.” Harry sighs happily and takes her left hand, lifting the ring to her finger, “Would you do me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

“I’m surprised you even have to ask,” Francesca grins, holding her hand out and excitedly waiting for Harry to slide the ring onto her finger. “It would be an absolute honor to be your wife.” Harry slides the ring onto her hand and stands on his feet, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. “I’m so excited to be your wife.”

“And I am just as excited to have you as my wife,” Harry smiles, kissing her cheeks and squeezing his arms around her midsection. “For real this time.”

Very much for real this time.

[crossyourmindrights]

You Are The One That I Want

Summary: after cheating on her fiancé with her co-star Y/n has a big decision to make just before opening night. this picks up right where part 1 leaves off so please read it first!

Warnings: swearing, smut, toxic relationships, cheating. If any of those are triggering to you please don’t read! Your mental health comes first and I’ve got plenty of other fics you can read :) Not proof read so lmk if there are typos!!!! Tumblr hates me so the very end line might not be there 😤

WC: 3.5k

“Hi Roman” Y/n fakes a smile while pulling up the strap of her bra up her shoulder while she carefully buttons her thin shirt up and uneasily sits back to have a conversation with her fiancé. “Where are you? I thought you were at the theater.” Y/n glances back at Harry who was sitting with a slight smirk on his face while staying quiet so he could listen in to the conversation. She slaps his thigh, mouthing over at him to stop. She was already nervous enough to talk to her fiancé after she did what she did but Harry’s silent teasing was only making her more nervous. 

“I went out to dinner with some of the cast.” She makes up a quick lie- which wasn’t a complete lie… she was just sugar coating it so she didn’t seem so guilty. She knew what she did was bad- trust her, she really really knew it was bad… but it felt good, it was fun being with someone new, feeling someone new, doing new things. Y/n also knew that she hasn’t  been the best to Roman recently. They haven’t been getting along and she hasn’t said the kindest words, but he hasn’t been the best either, he’s said some harsh words. “You went to dinner?” 

“Yeah, just a few members of the cast. Nothing big, we just wanted to celebrate since opening night is soon.” Suddenly lying came easy to her. With her costar sitting next to her, hyper aware of every sound he makes while he tries to steady his breathing and buttons his pants back up. “I’m at the theater right now.” 

“It’s just some crew and my co-star. Nothing big! I’m dropping off a few crew members and then I’ll be there to meet you.” They say their goodbyes before she clicks the big red button to end the call and slaps her phone on the leather seats. “Never again.” 

There is something in her eyes that tells Harry this won’t be the last time it happens. And he is well aware that he isn’t a good man for seducing a woman soon to be married, but it takes two to tango and he wanted to dance again. 

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Days have passed since the dinner. Y/n can’t help but walk on eggshells around Roman, her job is putting on an act but she slips in real situations. She’s never been a good liar, if she’s confronted with something she has to own up to it, acting was only an on stage occurrence for her and she couldn’t risk it with Roman. 

He was easy to pick up on her odd moods and was rather sensitive to put the blame on himself when she wasn’t anything but happy- it wasn’t because he felt he wasn’t a good partner though, it’s because he wanted a reason to make her feel wrong for experiencing any emotion but happiness. He was a narcissist of some sorts. 

Their relationship was never a healthy one. Sure, Y/n seems like a dick but Roman had a way of manipulating her without even using words. And now she’s resenting Roman for not just the childlike fits and toxic ways, but for not being Harry. Harry was the type she said she hated when growing up. She never wanted an arrogant man who had too much confidence, she thought she wanted a gentle man, the underdog, but she craved the winner, the man who teases her fiancé, and forgot about him the second he got any ounce of success. 

But as quickly as they were together the eggshells she’s been walking on begin to crack. 

Any noise Roman made irritated y/n, any song he sang, any noise he made, anything and everything annoyed her. 

“Just one fucking second, Roman! I literally need one second without your voice and I’d be okay!” y/n yells toward her fiancé while slamming the door behind her. She needed a getaway but it wasn’t like she could skip town when she was constantly rehearsing for the biggest break of her career. “Why don’t you just go to the theater?! Since you’re so happy to leave me everyday.” She sarcastically laughs at him, if only he knew why she was so happy. 

Y/n wanted to feel more guilty about cheating than she really did. She wanted to say she felt like such a horrible fiance, cried over the mistakes she's made, beat herself up over how selfish and stupid she's been, but she hasn't. The only crying she's been doing is the sobs that come out of her mouth when Harry bends her over his vanity in his tiny dressing room after rehearsals, her leather pants still on while he's sweating off the black eyeliner, pushing Danny's preppy look off that he has to wear for the ending scene. 

Harry made her feel better than Roman ever could. She had to tell Roman anytime she wanted the smallest touch, pull dirty talk out of him, but Harry knows everything. He knows how to touch her, how to make her feel good, how to get her dripping with just one look, how to make her thighs shake with only five words. 

With that she grabs her bag and calls a cab before running off to the theater. Hopefully Harry would be there, pacing the floor and whispering his lines like he usually does every time she has a late night theater run. Other than fucking her until her knees give out hes also been great at listening to her rant about Roman, and tonight she was fine with either. 

She opens the heavy, metal door, sighing and walking to her dressing room to drop her bag, grabbing her paper script that has gotten messed up after weeks and weeks of sweaty palms gripping it. Y/n steps out onto the black stage, studying all the marks that cover the floor from years of performing. 

“Hey.” Y/n looks up, met with Harry's piercing green eyes. 

Sighing, She gives him a lazy response. “Hi.” 

He pats the edge of the stage next to him, he sits with his legs dangling off, facing all the chairs that would soon be filled on opening night. “What's wrong?” Y/n plops next to him and starts to debate on telling him about all of her relationship problems, as if she hasn't told him enough already. “Me and Roman are still fighting.” Harry nods while giving her a sympathetic smile, as much as he hated that she wasn't doing well, he always got a little excited when she started ranting to him because he knew in a matter of time he would be deep inside of her. 

“I’m sorry.” He leans closer to her his lips moving closer to her before he kisses her. He shoves his tongue in her mouth, already sighing out in satisfaction before he feels her pull away. Her lips hover his while her features round,her chin starting to quiver. “I- i can't do this.” 

“Why not? I thought you wanted me?” Harry gently pecks her lips, trying to draw her back in, forgetting her problems and letting her engulf herself in him. “I want you but… but-” 

“But you need him.” 

She softly sobs, letting him kiss her lips. “I need to want him, Harry. He's my fiance.” 

Harry sighs, rubbing his dry eyes before leaning back on his hands. “I know. I know more than you, it seems. But every time you get a glimpse of my cock you forget all about him. So what is this?” he gestures between them before slapping his hand back down. “You’re just using me as a fuck because your husband doesnt know how?” She shakes her head, scrambling to her feet while Harry jumps up and walks backstage toward the dressing rooms. “No, Harry.” 

“Then what?! Because every night we see each other you go back and forth. I'm not willing to even be civil with you if you want to play these mind games, Y/n. It’s not fair to me.”

“I’m- I’m not trying to play mind games! I'm just confused. I've only been with Roman and I'm just so confused! He's my safety net, he’s easy, I'm already with him, our parents expect us to get married in a few months, I can't back out now because of this!” Harry shakes his head, gathering his bag together, throwing his stuff in before he slams his dressing room door closed behind him. 

“It’s that outlandish to be with me?! He's your safety net but you come cry about him to me every night?! I can't do this. You've made your choice with those words and it's obviously not me, Y/n” he spits her name out like it was the most poisonous venom coating his tongue. 

She frantically runs after him, swinging the door open and running over to him where he shoves his bag in the car, closing the back door before opening the driver's seat door, ready to climb in. “stop! No. I choose you, okay? I just need time! I need time, Harry. This has all happened so fast. Before I met you I thought I settled for Roman but now everything is completely different and I feel like my life has been flipped upside down!” She cradles his jaw in her hands. “I just need time but I choose you.” 

“You're willing to really leave him?” 

“Yes. Once the show is over I’ll be done with him, for good. I chose you.” 

“Really?” Y/n nods once again, desperate to make him see that he is the one she wants. “Really. I promise. Me and him are over. After the show I’m calling the engagement mom, I’ll tell our family, we will go our separate ways. I promise, Harry. I’m serious. I want you.” His head bows, his jaw going soft in her hands. “I know I come off as an asshole but I do have feelings. I really do want this. I really like you. And honestly, it kinda of fucking hurts my feelings that you chose that douche bag over me. Especially after you told me what he did when he found out you got the part but he didn’t… what a fucking asshole.” Harry shakes his head, letting out a sigh but it’s cut off with Y/n pressing her lips to his, her hand falling to his neck, softly cupping the sensitive skin. 

“So we’re going to do this?” Harry asks, brushing her hair back while pressing another kiss to her lips. “Yeah,” 

“After the show?” 

“After the show.” 

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It was opening night. 

The crowd was growing and growing and would continue until every seat was eventually packed and no one else was welcomed to watch the show. There were people outside waiting for the end of the show to get a glimpse of the cast and maybe an autograph or a photo. 

“Holy shit. I don’t know if I can do this.” Y/n softly laughs, peeking at the full crowd moment before her and Harry are set to step on stage. “No, you’ve got this. It’s a fucking rush so try to remember what you can.” He grabs her face, pressing his lips only hers before getting in position and waiting for the curtain to rise. 

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“That was fucking amazing!” Y/n cheers while stripping out of her sandy costume, lazily peeling the shiny black bodysuit off of herself, kicking the heels off while Harry pushes his jock danny costume down, slipping his pink cock out of his baggy pants while plants rushed kisses over y/n shoulder while leaning her over the vanity. He pushes her legs apart with his knee and slips his cock inside of her. “We’ve got to be quick” Harry softly laughs, growing a smirk on his Devilishly handsome face. 

He slides in and out of her tight pussy as quick as his hips allow, breathlessly trying to get them to cum. “You did so good tonight, love. I’ve been hard since the drive-in scene. I hope no one noticed.” He breathlessly chuckles into her ear, his breath splaying over the sensitive skin of her neck, it washes over her like a heat flash but leaves sooner than she would ever want. 

Harry pushes into her so deep the mirror balancing on top of the vanity starts to rattle. He pulls his hand from Y/n's hip, placing it onto the vanity covered in open make up powders and lipstick stains. They both start laughing, but once the banging noise stops their laughs die down. 

Their worried glances catch each other in the mirror, making eye contact while the banging from the other side of the door continues. 

Y/n's voice shakily calls, “what is it?” 

“It's Roman. Let me in.” 

The pair's eyes grow wide but Harry's hips never still or slow, his cock still drilling into her plushy walls, hitting stops that make them feel all warm and fuzzy. “Uh- I’m trying to get all of this m-make up off.” she tries to sound nonchalant, as if her co-star isnt fucking her inches away from her fiance.

Harry’s hand comes to slap around her mouth the second he feels her cunt spasm around his thick cock, knowing soon she's going to be whimpering and falling apart around him. “Can I come in?” Her eyes roll back into her head and she tries her best not to make any noise. “Hello?” Roman says again, growing impatient for an answer. Harry’s eyes grow heavy with lust, his hips snapping uncontrollably while he cums. 

“No! I'm almost out!” 

Harry grows a large smirk, pulling out of her. “You better get dressed and make it quick.” He steps out of the dressing room, but not without shooting her a wink, then greeting Roman and disappearing off to his own dressing room to change into his clothes so he can leave the theater. 

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Y/n thought Roman would at least bring a flower, congratulate her on finally accomplishing what she has dreamt since she was a little girl, but he was hot on her tail the moment he saw Harry exit her dressing room. She started scrubbing her face with makeup wipes (that were sure to irritate her skin later), fixing her hair, and pulling her panties back up before Roman had a second to burst into the tiny room. 

Y/n tries to talk to fans, sharing the excitement with them while she snaps selfies and signs the playbills they shove out at her, Harry just a few feet ahead of her doing the same, except he doesn't have Roman in his ear lecturing him. 

“Why was he in your room while you were changing, Y/n?” 

“We had to get our makeup and wigs off! They do that for us so they just shoved us both in my dressing room.” she grumbles out her made up excuse, then apologizes to the young girl behind the metal barricade and snaps a photo with her. “He still had his makeup on.” She huffs, shooting him a warning look. “Roman, stop. I just finished opening night and I'm trying to sign playbills. Dont ruin this for me by starting a fight.” Roman softly laughs. “I'm not the one starting a fight. Now why was he in your dressing room?” 

The anger bubbles up inside of her until she can't control it. Her hands angrily push over her hair. She knows in times like this it's best to take a deep breath, and be mindful of your emotions, but after years and years of putting up with all of his mind games and manipulating she can't control it. Y/n is finally happy in a relationship (even if it is behind her fiance's back) and she's not going to let Roman ruin the start of it for her. 

“Because we're fucking! Maybe if you waited ten seconds longer to start banging on the door you wouldn't have seen him leave my dressing room and this whole fight wouldn't have started!” She yells at him over the screaming fans, catching Harry's attention who is only a foot away, in the middle of autographing a hoodie for a fan.  

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After Y/n’s outburst on opening night she's been staying with Harry. She had a feeling nothing good would come out of going back to the apartment her and roman share. The fight would be blown out of purporting and would get taken way too far. 

“C’mon, love. We've got to get to the theater.” Harry mumbles on Y/n's lips while she plants kisses on his, her arms wrapped around his neck while his arm holding her waist tight to him. “We can be a little late, they might be focused on the rest of the cast.” Harry laughs at her lame attempt of getting him to stay back with her. “Were the stars, baby honey. We have to look the best.” She sighs, pulling away from him and throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Whatever, I guess let's leave.” Harry laughs once more, pulling her into his side and pressing a light kiss on the side of her head. 

“We’ve got to get pretty so we can perform on broadway.” He hums while opening the door to his penthouse, closing the door behind them and beginning their walk to the theater. “Well, you've got to get pretty, anyway. I was just born this gorgeous.” Harry softly jokes and Y/n scrunches her nose at his teasing, flipping him off. 

“Oh, I'm just joking, baby honey. You're too beautiful for this world. He presses another sloppy kiss on her cheek and they are off.” 

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Y/n and Harry were pretty nervous for the rest of the cast and crews reaction to her and Harry's affair. They didnt know how her relationship was behind the scene and definitely had no place to judge since she knows the industry secrets, girls sleep with directors and guys sleep with married women with three kids just for a mediocre part on a tv series only to end up having three lines the whole season, her case was completely different. She wasn't gaining anything by being with Harry, in fact she was losing a lot. Losing roman wasn't anything she was necessarily upset about in any way. She was happy she got to end that chapter in her life and start a chapter she was happy writing, spending it with someone she loves and someone who loves her exactly the same. But she knew her family would be disappointed with her, she would lose touch with everyone in Roman’s family that she did have a good relationship with. She's also losing a high school sweetheart, which he wasn't good to her and after years of it she wasn't good to him either, but she's losing the dream of marrying a high school sweetheart, but it was worth it to live a happy life that she's wanted. 

It seems like everything is falling into place. She finally got her dream role on broadway, working along with people she would have great friendships with for the rest of her life, along with her lover, she's making memories she will never forget, and she's getting her big start to what seems to be a wonderful acting career since the critic reviews are in for her opening night performance as Sandy Olsson and they have all been nothing short of positive. 

“Do you think they are going to hate us? They probably think i fucked you for the role.” Harry rolls his eyes, “They can fuck off,” he flicks his cigarette onto the concrete behind the building before stomping it out. “Because after all you got the part and everyone loves you as sandy.” She gives him a soft smile, stepping into the door that leads backstage while Harry holds it open. “You're right. Thank you, H.” 

They step into Harry’s dressing room, sitting in the director chairs so they can start the process of getting their hair and makeup done. 

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“What a fucking rush. Another sold out night on broadway!” Y/n cheers while flopping on Harry's bed, her hair a mess from being pushed under so many different wigs and her skin red from so many different products. He smiles, kissing the top of her head. “You did so good, baby honey. I loved watching you from backstage.”

“You did so good, H! You didn't miss a beat! You got a standing ovation!” Harry cracks a smile, shaking his head. “Oh, so did you. And I couldn't have done this without you, you're the only thing getting me through this. No one talks about how stressful it is.” Y/n leans in for a kiss, her hand pushing into his hair while her tongue slips past his strawberry lips. Harry's hand come up to hold hers, tangling their fingers together

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your engagement ring on?”

Hiiii! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback :) no taglist bc tumblr hates me and keeps glitching and won’t add the last line so I hope it’s fixed now!

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why is your engagement ring back on?”

taglist:

@harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @waitingroomharry

@swiftmendeshoran @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @puckshitbitch

[crossyourmindrights]

the one where YN gets a job as Harry's maid and his occupation comes as a shock to her - he writes erotica.

author's note: i'm back! (please don't kill me, i'm sorry that it's been so long <3) this is something that's been in the works for basically over a year now, but it's finally coming to life! it's also got a lovely lil' flash-forward at the end (which you all know i love) thank you all for sticking with me and i hope it won't be as long the next time.

word count: 13.2k of scandalous smut, fluff, 1800s society and harry being a sexy man of the house erotica writer.

let me know what you think of desire here. love u all <3

London, 1817

YN didn’t have a single shilling to her name. 

As well as not having a single shilling to her name, she was currently homeless and squatting in dark alleyways. Her start to life hadn’t been the best, and her skill set wasn’t full of attributes that may help her in her quest of finding employment. As for a family, YN didn’t necessarily have one. Being the sixth child in a household, one that wasn’t surviving with five children it already had, meant her life wasn’t as black and white as it looked. She has spent the last few days, after finally deciding to pack up and leave home, looking for any sort of job and she truly meant any. So far, she hadn’t found anything, and she was running out of the food that she had stolen from the kitchen back home and that meant she was running out of time. 

It was the fourth day in her quest when she found something. She hadn’t necessarily thought she would find anything when she had picked up the newspaper that morning (or rather stolen it from the bag of a newsboy) but there it was in black and white. The advert was four lines at most and gave relatively nothing away. It asked for a female maid, who had experience in household chores. So far, all the boxes, YN could tick. The next asked that she’d be able to live on site, in the house she would be working in. If anything, that was better for YN than having to find somewhere to live. The last line gave the address of the house, and the preferred times for visiting. 

YN thankfully saw a man walking past with a pocket watch and politely asked him the time, to which he replied that it was a quarter to two, meaning that YN still had two hours to hopefully find the house and herself a job. The side of town that the house was on YN had never been to, in fact she’d never even been a mile in the vicinity of it, so she did have to ask a few people. YN wasn’t easily intimated, but when the people she had to ask obviously had money and were quietly judging her dishevelled state she struggled. 

She didn’t know the time, and YN struggled to figure out how much time had passed usually, and all she could do was pray that she hadn’t gone over the time stated on the newspaper advertisement. When she arrived at the house that she believed to be the right one, she felt thankful when she could see a man gardening just by the gate – a person she could ask to affirm that she was in the right place. 

“Excuse me, sir,” he seemed to sigh as he dropped his trowel and turned to look at YN, “Is this the Styles residence?” 

“It is,” his accent wasn’t what YN expected, she hadn’t met anybody before that wasn’t from London, “How can we help you, miss?” 

YN cleared her throat, “I’m enquiring about the advert you placed in the newspaper. The one for the maid role.” 

“I’m sorry, miss,” he sighed, finally standing up and wiping his hands on his trousers, “You’re too late, Mr Styles has already interviewed all of the candidates.”

“Oh,” the smile faltered on YN’s face. All of the excitement she felt about the advert had left a pit of disappointment in her, “I’m really sorry, sir, it’s just that I had to walk from the other side of town, and I don’t have a watch to tell the time.”

“I am sorry, miss, but there’s nothing that I can do. Mr. Styles will already be making his decision.” 

“Well,” she sighed, placing the newspaper in the pocket of her jacket, “I’m sorry to have disturbed you sir, I’ll let you get back to your gardening. Is it possible to just ask you directions on the quickest way to get back into town?”

The man seems to hesitate for a second. He looks down at his gardening, and the back up at YN before sighing and wiping the sweat off his head. She felt slightly out of place and stood waiting for his response for a few seconds. 

“He might be in a good mood,” he mutters, “Please come in, miss, and I’ll go check with Mr. Styles. Even if he says no, we can get you a nice cup of tea.” 

YN couldn’t be ever more grateful. 

The closer that YN made it towards the house, or should she say mansion, she could almost feel her breath catching within her throat. Even though it was now highly unlikely that it would be the case, there was still the thought in the back of her mind that she could end up living here. She followed the man inside the towering door, her body feeling incredibly out of place in the grandeur of the house she was now in. 

If YN was honest, this house may possibly be the biggest house that she had ever seen, never mind stood in. The exterior of the house certainly didn’t do the interieur justice at all. The house was immaculate, and YN wondered if there was already a maid on site. The man she was following stopped in front of one of the doors by the main entrance and opened it. 

“You can take a seat in here,” he motions to the seating in the middle of the room, “I’ll go and check if Mr. Styles would like to see you. Can I take your name, miss?” 

“YN. YN YLN.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss. YLN,” he beams, “I’m Mr. Towers.”

“A pleasure to meet you too.” 

The door slammed shut behind Mr. Towers, allowing YN to finally take in a deep breath to release the tension within her body. Looking around at the room, YN was shocked at the size of the parlour she was in, as well as the large bookcase filled to the brim with books. One of the things that YN prided herself on, which allowed her to find this opportunity in the first place, was her ability to read. It wasn’t usual for a woman of her status to know how to read, but she had met a kind gentleman at the market once and he spent his Sundays with her, teaching her how to read. 

YN stopped in front of one shelf that seemed to have books from the same author along the entirety of it. H.E. Scott. It wasn’t a name that was familiar to YN, but she couldn’t help but want to reach out and pick them up. Just as her finger was about to touch the cover, the door swung open, and YN flinched away from the bookcase.

“Miss. YLN,” She immediately dropped her hands down by her side, “Mr. Styles will see you now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Towers.”

Following Mr. Towers out of the room, YN was led up a grand staircase that she could only dream of owning one day. YN had no idea about the architecture of houses, nor as to what wood complimented each other or anything like that – but she knew what appeased her eyes and everything about this house appeased them. YN held the banister with one hand and lifted her skirt up with the other and followed Mr. Towers.

At the top of the staircase, a corridor spilt up to the left and to the right. YN couldn’t help herself, and all she wanted to do was to explore and see every single corner of this mansion that Mr. Styles calls home. She followed Mr. Towers all the way to the last door on the left.

He knocked on the door and after the “Come in,” from the other side, Mr. Towers opened the door.

“Good luck,” Mr. Towers smiles.

The door shut behind YN once she stepped in, and she slightly jumped at the sound. There were few things in life that could make YN nervous, but the way that her heart was about to beat out of her chest she honestly thought that she was close to a heart attack.

She hadn’t known what she had expected of Mr. Styles. Her main instinct was an old man, close to his death that needed extra help around the house because his wife had passed. What she hadn’t been expecting was a man whose age was like hers, with dark brown hair that framed his entire face, and hard features that she was having trouble drawing her eyes away from. There were few people that intimidate her (her father being one of them) but she had a feeling that she was going to be adding Mr. Styles to that list.

“Mr. Styles,” YN shrugged all of her worries and walked towards him with her hand outstretched, “I’m YN YLN.”

He didn’t stand up, and he didn’t shake her hand. He didn’t even take his eyes away from whatever piece of paper he was reading. She nervously gripped the sides of her dress as she walked towards him, the heels of her shoes hitting the floor with a tap every step she took.

“I’m…” She hesitated slightly, not exactly knowing what to do. Did she sit down? Did she remain standing? Did she wait until he spoke to her? She hadn’t a clue what to do, and she was truly starting to panic, “I’m here for the job as the maid. I know I’m a little late, but I came from across town and-”

YN watched as he lifted his hand up, as though to shut her up. It did. He didn’t even look up at her, just continued looking down at the heaps and heaps of paper that were sat in front of him.

“Do you know how to clean?” YN’s eyes almost widened in shock at the sound of his deep, coarse voice. It was as though he hadn’t spoken in years, or that he had been speaking too much and that it needed a rest.

“Uh… yes I do.”

“Are you sure about that?” His reply came quick, but he still didn’t look at her.

“Yes,” YN nodded her head, “I do know how to clean.”

“Do you know how to cook?”

“Yes.”

“You’re hired,” Finally, he lifted his head up from his papers and looked directly at her, his green eyes boring into YN’s. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, “Speak to Mr. Towers about the details, you shall start immediately. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you,” YN nodded her head and turned to walk out of the room, unable to hide the smile that danced across her lips.

“Clean up and get changed before you start,” She stops in her tracks at the sound of his voice again, “You’re filthy.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Your room is down here, by the pantry,” Mr Towers explains as he walks her towards her room, “There’s a uniform already in there for you, along with a pot of water ready to boil for a bath.”

“Thank you, Mr. Towers,” YN nodded her head at the older man.

“Don’t thank me yet,” The older man threw the door to her room open, “It’s only tiny, but you have a bed and a fire, so you won’t be cold.”

“It’s…” After stepping into the room, YN couldn’t help the smile that beamed over her face. The room itself was the size of the room that she shared with her entire family growing up – and it was all to herself, “It’s perfect.”

Mr. Towers looked at her with a puzzled look on his face but shrugged his shoulders, “If you say so… Mr. Styles expects his dinner by seven weeknights, and eight on weekends when he has his guests over.”

“Is there anything that Mr. Styles prefers to eat that I could make for him? To say thank you?” She asked, placing her bag down on the bed.

Mr. Towers laughed and shook his head, “Mr. Styles has groceries delivered to the house every day. It has what he wants to eat in plenty, and we eat whatever is left in a broth.”

YN nodded her head. She had never known anything like it, and she couldn’t believe how much money and power Mr. Styles seemed to have.

“Thank you, Mr. Towers,” YN nodded with a polite smile, “I shall see you later.”

“Good day, Miss. YLN.”

Mr. Towers shut the door behind him, and once she had heard his footsteps growing lighter, she dropped backwards onto her bed with a laugh. It was almost as though she was sat within her own fever dream, where she had finally found herself a room, a bed and a job all at the same time.

Looking up at the small clock that sat above the fireplace, YN saw that it was just past three and she decided that it was probably time that she washed herself and made sure that she had plenty of time to prepare Mr. Styles’ dinner. Seeing that the pot of water was sat by the floor next to the fire, she made quick haste hanging it over the fire to heat up. It was at this point she saw the tin bath in the corner of the room, as well as her lavatory pot. A small mirror sat on a small cabinet, that once she opened, she saw contained a button up shirt, skirt and apron that she guessed was her uniform. She placed it neatly upon the bed, along with the fresh towel in the drawer and stripped of her current clothes.

One thing that YN always struggled with was the sight of her body. It was dirty and grimy, and malnourished to the point where it was sometimes painful. She was hoping that having control over the meals she ate meant that she could gain more strength and finally be happy with herself. The first step in that was getting into the bath, a thing that she hadn’t had in months. The feeling of the warm water on her skin, and the grime leaving her skin and the feeling of freshly washed hair was something that she could get used to. She left her hair drying in its natural state as she dressed, enjoying the feeling of new clothes on her skin also.

There wasn’t much that YN could say that she enjoyed in her life, but these small little luxuries that she’d never had before were certainly things that she enjoyed. She couldn’t believe her luck if she was completely honest, and that was made even more clear when she stepped into the kitchen. It was bigger than the entire house that YN grew up in, and it was filled with all the luxuries that she could have only dreamed of.

She saw some fillets of beef, along with vegetables and potatoes that she knew could be made into a divine meal. She got started right away, peeling and boiling the potatoes, cutting and preparing the vegetables and even cooking the beef until it was perfect all the way through. It seemed that her skills in the kitchen, albeit very basic ones, were coming in handy in more ways than one. With everything that was left after she’d plating Mr. Styles’ up, she made into a broth and left to simmer on the stove.

YN had the food prepared five minutes before it was ready because she knew that in this mansion that Mr Styles called his home, she would have to find the dining room. She hoped that whatever he liked to drink was there, because she couldn’t find anything in the kitchen that he might want.

She passed the room that she had waited in earlier in the day but knew that wasn’t the room that she was looking for. It was the room across from that, which had its door opened slightly, showing a large dining table which made YN realise that was the room she was looking for. Nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach when she realised that Mr Styles was already there and waiting for her.

YN wiped her slightly sweaty palms on her apron and knocked twice on the door, waiting for Mr Styles to say that she could enter before she did. It didn’t take long before he was taking a few steps into the room and closing the door behind her. Whilst he wasn’t sat in his study anymore, he still had a stack of papers that he was reading in his hands. YN wondered what he was reading.

She took rushed steps towards him, being sure to make haste so that he couldn’t say anything to her. She was on time, and all she could hope is that he was happy with what she had produced for him. YN placed his plate down in front of him, and he finally looked up from his papers at it. He didn’t say anything to her but seemed content enough to place the papers down.  

“I expect a glass of whiskey poured with my meals.” He says to her, picking up his cutlery to start his meal.

“Of course, Mr. Styles.”

It didn’t take YN long to spot the bar cart in the corner of the room and make her way over to it. She picked up a glass and turned it over so that she could pour the drink into it. She hadn’t ever tried alcohol before, let alone know what whiskey was but she guessed that it was probably the one that looked the most loved. She poured the drink so that the bottom of the glass was about a third full before walking back over to Mr. Styles and placing it in front of him.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” She asks, and he shook his head.

She began to walk towards the door when Mr. Styles spoke to her again, “I’ll be having guests over tomorrow, so I’ll expect a full dinner service. There will be three of us.”

“Certainly, Mr. Styles.”

YN still had no idea what Mr Styles did for work, or what type of guests he would be having over to his house. Saying that, it was only her first day, but it would be nice to have some sort of incline as to who she was working for. As she walked out of the dining room, she remembered the books she had seen in the room across the hall earlier.

There was no sign of Mr. Towers, and she knew that Mr. Styles would be eating his dinner for the foreseeable and decided that she had plenty of time to make her way over to the sitting room. She took small steps, trying not to make the sound of her shoes on the floor too obvious to the rest of the house. With one last glance behind her, she slipped through the door and closed it as quietly as she could.

If there was one thing, she could say about Mr. Styles, it was that he certainly knew how to decorate a room. His entire house was so beautifully decorated, but so minimal at the same time. Every wood matched, the accents of the rugs and curtains matched in each room, but this room was the one that YN was the most impressed with so far. It wasn’t the rugs, or the chandelier in this room that impressed her, but more so the grand bookcase that covered two walls of the room.

Her feet almost moved automatically as she made her way towards the middle shelf again, ones covered to the brim with books from that same author, H.E. Scott, the author that YN had never heard of. She hadn’t seen such a collection of books before, and she was curious about every single one. Why were there so many? Why did Mr. Styles enjoy this author so much to have what seemed to be every single one of his books?

YN couldn’t help but reach out and take one. It was the third one she decided upon, revelling at the hard backed emerald book with gold lettering on them.

From the Dining Table, H.E. Scott

Nothing about the cover, or even the name gave anything away and that became even more obvious when she opened the book. She skimmed over a few pages, only taking in a few words from each page but it was blatantly obvious that it was a romance novel. It was only until YN was about two-thirds through flicking through the book that she figured out what it was.

Darkness covered his eyes as he looked at her. She had never seen anybody with eyes clouded by such a fierce lust before, and she had never suspected that those eyes would be piercing directly at hers.

His barn, only lit by the flickering oil lamp in the corner was silent, so silent that the void was filled by the pattering of the rain on the roof. The same rain that had caused her clothes to be sodden and clinging to her, showing him every rise and fall of her chest.

“Do I make you nervous?” One little shake of her head and he was taking small and slow steps towards her. She thought that it must have been possible for him to hear the whirring of her brain, and the quicker beating of her chest, “Are you positive about that, kitten?”

“I am,” As he took small steps towards her, she was taking small steps back. That was until she ended up right upon his dining table. Her hands dropped upon the table behind her as his hands spread her legs so that he could stand between them.

“Tell me what you want,” He whispered, moving closer and closer until she could feel his breath upon her skin, “I want you to tell me what you want, kitten.”

“I want…” She whispered back, trying to not make it obvious that the feeling of his lips hovering above her neck, “I want… you.”

“And how do you want me?”

“I want you here.”

“What are you doing?” YN had never slapped a book closed faster in her life.

Seeing Mr. Styles stood there in the doorway, with one of his hands in his pocket looking upon her with a sneer of his face that she hasn’t seen on anybody’s face before in her life knocked her. She was that invested in the book that she obviously hadn’t her the door across the hallway open, or Mr. Styles’ footsteps on the wooden floor on the corridor, and she didn’t hear the door open in front of her.

“Mr. Styles…” YN tried to find the right words, but none were springing to mind, “I was just…”

“You were just what?” He takes one step towards her, and she automatically took one step back, “You were just snooping? Looking through things that don’t belong to you.”

“Mr. Styles… I’m sorry,” YN stood there fumbling on her words, still with the culprit in her hands.

“Don’t let me catch you again,” YN nods and places the book back on the shelf, “I’ll need one of the guest bedrooms prepared for my guests tomorrow. Preferably make it the one opposite my office.”

“Yes sir.”

By the time that the door had slammed behind him, YN didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream and what had just happened. One thing that she did know was that she was hungry and had a broth waiting for her in the kitchen that would hopefully fix all of her problems.

After waking up the next morning, YN had spent the day cooking breakfasts and lunches and cleaning bedrooms and dining rooms and sitting rooms. It had been a lot of work, but it was the first day in a while where YN hadn’t even glanced at the clock and prayed for the night to come. She was that busy that when seven rolled around, and the doorbell rang YN was just about ready for it.

As Mr. Towers opened the door, YN stood just behind him to the right waiting to greet the guests and prepare them some drinks. YN hadn’t seen Mr. Styles all day, and after the situation yesterday she decided that was probably the best thing to happen. She knew that she would have to see him tonight during the dinner service, but that was work and she couldn’t do anything to make him that upset, could she?

“Welcome, it is lovely to see you both again,” Mr. Towers greets the couple walking through the door.

YN wasn’t used to the glitz and glamour of high-end London socialites and that became very apparent when Mr. and Mrs. Williamson walked through the door. Mrs. Williamson was petite, blonde and insanely gorgeous stood in the hallway in the most beautiful deep blue gown that YN could only dream about. Mr. Williamson stood next to her; his hand rested on the small of his wife’s back.

“This is Miss. YLN, she’ll take you through to the parlour and get you some drinks.”

YN painted her prettiest smile on her face and led them through to the parlour watching as Mr and Mrs. Williamson sat down upon the sofa.

“Mr. Styles has brought a red wine that he would like to two of you to try,” YN picked up the bottle to show the two of them.

“Then try it we shall,” Mr. Williamson spoke, sharing a laugh between himself and his wife.

YN moved over to the bar cart where three of Mr. Styles’ best wine glasses sat. She poured the first two but hesitated on the third just because she didn’t know when Mr. Styles would be joining the party. She didn’t have to wait very long.

“Well, it seems as though this party has started without me!”

As YN watched Mr. Styles greet Mr. Williamson with a ‘man hug’ and kissed Mrs. Williamson on the cheek, she made sure that she’d poured his wine and walked over to pass it to him. He didn’t look at her, and he didn’t even acknowledge what she had done.

“That’s all,” He still didn’t look at her, “We’ll be in the dining room at eight for dinner service.”

YN nodded in his direction, even though he wasn’t looking at her and left the room. YN didn’t know what kind of meal this was going to be, whether it was business or pleasure, but she knew that snooping to ask questions probably wasn’t the best point of call at this time.

For the first time the whole day, whilst she was finishing off the dinner that she had been making the entire day, she was clock-watching. Her eyes were always placed upon the clock making sure that everything was ready in time, and that she wasn’t late. As the hands clicked towards eight, she made sure that all three plates were ready, and brought them all to the dining room. At that point, Mr. Styles and the Williamsons were making their way over. Laughter rattled around the walls of the house, and it was the loudest the house had been since YN had arrived.

She placed Mrs. Williamson plate down first, followed by her husbands and then finally Mr. Styles’. Mr. Styles and Mr. Williamson were still entrapped in whatever conversation they were having in the parlour, and Mrs. Williamson was listening with a polite smile. YN made sure that all their glasses were refilled, and that she gave Mrs. Williamson a little more than the men which she seemed to appreciate with a look that was sent her way.

“Is that all, Mr Styles?” She asked, addressing Mr. Styles for the first time since last night.

“Yes, that is all,” With a fleeting glance and a slight shake of his hand he dismissed her, and she left the room. The second she was out in the hall she didn’t know what to do with herself.

YN could have some food, but she wasn’t hungry. She had cleaned everything in the house from top to bottom, and there wasn’t anything else that she could sort. One thing that she could do was turn down the guest bedroom ready for Mr. and Mrs. Williamson. She started by walking in the room and lighting some of the candles that were necessary for people to see. Next came turning down the bedsheets and airing them out so that they were ready for the couple when they decided to come to bed.

Once she was happy with the room, she decided that it was probably time to go check on them and their dinner and see if they needed anything. As she opened the door, she was shocked to hear footsteps ascending the stairs. Instead of walking out of the room straight away, she poked her head around so that she could just see the end of Mr. Styles and the Williamson’s walking up the stairs. She knew that she would have to step out of the room if they turned in this direction, but they didn’t. Instead, the couple and the man of the house started to walk towards Mr. Styles’ room at the end of the hall.

YN didn’t know what to think, and she didn’t know what to do. Her eyes almost fell out of her head when he saw Mr. Styles smiling at the couple, especially when they kissed each other. Maybe they were just walking Mr. Styles to his room? Maybe that was it?

YN knew that wasn’t the case when the two of them walked into the room, and with one fleeting glance in YN’s direction, and with what YN could only describe as a dashing smile at her he followed the couple inside his room.

YN didn’t sleep a wink that night. She had no idea what she had witnessed the night before, but she knew that it wasn’t to the standard of high society, or at least not what she knew high society to be like. Whatever happened in that room was unknown to her, and whilst a part of her wanted to know, she also didn’t want to know at all.

The Williamsons had left about an hour ago, and YN had spent the morning washing the linens from their room (which they did use later in the night) and washing Mr. Styles’ linens (at his request). YN didn’t find anything suspicious within the rooms, but she didn’t look for anything.

It was mid-afternoon at this point, and she had finished all her work for the afternoon and was just waiting for the time that she needed to start preparing and making Mr. Styles’ dinner. As she now had this spare time, she decided that it was the perfect opportunity to sit outside with some bread and butter and enjoy her favourite book – Jane Eyre.

She reread the book every so often, even though at this point she knew it word by word. She had been given the book by the man who taught her how to read when she was younger, so it was very well-loved and quite tattered, but YN didn’t care. She found a secluded spot by a tree, near to the back entrance of the house into the kitchen just encase Mr. Styles needed her at any point.

YN was about a third into the book when the back door opened, and out walked Mr. Styles with a cigarette and match in hand. YN hadn’t known that he smoked but seeing him stood there it was something that he had done before. When he turned to the right and saw her, she immediately looked down at her book, as though she hadn’t been looking at him and that he hadn’t caught her.

She heard his footsteps, but she didn’t look up at him. If she looked up, she didn’t know what she would find, and she didn’t know how she would deal with it.

“What are you reading?”

“Jane Eyre, sir,” Her eyes still never left her book, even though she wasn’t reading.

“You obviously like to read.”

She finally looked up at him, confused to see him leant against the edge of the house a few metres away from where she was reading her book. YN thought that she would be greeted by a look of malice, but there was nothing of the sort.

“I do, sir,” She offered him, “It is one of my favourite things to do.”

“I suppose it is,” He nodded his head in her direction, “Seeing as though I caught you snooping in my own collection not long ago.”

“I’m very sorry about that, sir,” She wasn’t, but she had to keep appearances up with the man that employed her.

“No, you’re not,” YN opened her mouth to speak but Mr. Styles shook his head, “You don’t have to be.”

“But they weren’t mine, sir,” A small smile, “I shouldn’t have assumed that I could do such a thing.”

“You can, if you want,” Not a smile in her direction, but more so a less harsh glance than before, “If you would care to borrow a book from my collection you can, but it must be placed back once you’re done.”

“Thank you, sir,” She nodded.

YN was in shock, but she was not going to let him know that. After the way that he had spoken to her a few days prior about the event, she thought that he would never let her touch anything of his unless to clean it or serve it to him.

“Don’t thank me,” He shrugged, “Just let me know what you think of it, once you finish. I assume you’ll be finishing the book you started?”

“Most likely.”

He laughed. A proper laugh. She couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her lips, watching his stern face break out into a smile, dimples in his tanned cheeks showing and everything.

“I look forward to it,” Still smiling, this was new. Then it dropped, “I also want to discuss what you may have seen yesterday, upstairs with my guests and I.”

“Rest assured, sir, I didn’t see anything.”

“You did, we both know you did,” A small lift of his lips, “It is okay, I know it must have been quite a shock to you. But I just want to let you know that it is my work. Or, well, part of it.”

“Sir, you don’t need to –”

“I know I don’t,” He shrugged his shoulders, “But I fear I must, for the sake of my work and yours. What you saw is sometimes a frequent occurrence in this house, and I expect you to take a blind eye to it. If you cannot, then I don’t believe that this is the job for you.”

“Mr. Styles, rest assured I didn’t see anything, nor will I see anything.”

“Good,” He dropped his cigarette on the floor and stumped it out with the sole of his shoe, “Dinner at seven, let it be prompt.”

“Yes sir.”

With that, he left her. YN continued through the evening on autopilot. All she could think about was that once her work was finished, and Mr. Styles was fed and either in his study on in bed, YN could go to the parlour and retrieve that book and continue what she had been reading. She wanted to know what the book contained, and why Mr. Styles had so many of them. She knew that by reading the book one of her questions would be answered.

“I’ll be retreating to my study,” Mr. Styles spoke after YN removed his empty plates, “You won’t be needed for the rest of the night.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

He walked out of the room before her, and she followed a few steps behind him. As he ascended the stairs, he threw one fleeting glance back at her and continued walking up. YN doesn’t think that she had ever washed plates and cutlery so quickly in her life. Once it was finished, she rushed into the parlour, retrieved the third book on the shelf and rushed back into her room where her oil lamp was waiting for her.

YN knew that she could start the book from the start and try and understand the story before rushing to the part that she had read the last time she had this book in her hands, but it was no use. YN flicked through the pages until she was right back where she was the days prior.

“Your wish is my command, kitten.”

It was the first time that they had kissed, with her sat upon his dining table, soaked from the rain and him stood in between her parted legs. As their lips touched and moved in a rhythm too profound to the blind eye, his hands started to dance the length of her legs. Moving upward from her stocking to the flesh of her thigh that was exposed underneath her skirt.

As his coarse fingertips moved up her smooth skin at a pace that was too slow for her liking, she found a heat pushing over her body that she needed to be put out. It was so fierce and burning so far in the pit of her stomach that she had no idea how he would put out the flames.

He removed his lips from hers, only to move further down her neck until his teeth began to nip and explicit sounds escaped her lips. Everything seemed to be going so slowly, but then it was though a switch turned within him and everything became sort of feverish.

His hands moved from her thighs towards her bottom, where he grabbed the flesh and pulled her even further towards the edge of the dining table. He lifted the material of her skirt up so that it was around her waist and reached for her bloomers, in an instance ripping them straight down the middle until she was exposed to him, all of her was exposed to him.

“May I?” At this point, he was down on his knees, face to face with the heat that was threatening to explode out of her.

“Please, please do it and never stop.”

That was all it took for him to reach out and touch. He used his hands to spread her thighs apart once more and wasted no time to start devouring her.

YN slammed the book shut. Closing her eyes, she tried everything to regulate her breathing, but nothing seemed to help. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and the heat that the lady had been describing within the book seemed to have enlightened within her. This was a feeling that YN had never felt before in her life, and she had no idea what to do with it. So, she decided to read on.

YN read the book, from start to finish in that entire night. YN knew about the relations that took place between a man and woman, but she had never read them in such detail, especially not in such a way between a lady of the house and her groundskeeper. This sort of relationship would be known as a scandal – something that would ruin the lady forever. In the book it was something sensual, and something to be desired. The only word that came to YN’s head after reading that book was desire – the desire to feel like that with somebody.

YN had no idea how to shake herself of that feeling.

“What did you think?”

It was early the next day, and YN had just placed Mr. Styles’ breakfast in front of him along with a serving of tea. Normally, breakfast is silent and after the sleepless night that YN had prior, she was excited for a silent breakfast, a speed through of her chores and then possibly a nap. What she hadn’t anticipated was Mr. Styles striking up a conversation with her.

“What did I think about what, sir?” YN didn’t know that she was going to be playing it as though she hadn’t a clue what he was going on about them.

“The book, Miss. YLN,” He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin, “I noticed this morning that from the dining table wasn’t in its usual spot. A good choice, if I must say.”

YN couldn’t draw her eyes away from the small smile upon his face. It was as though Mr. Styles was plaguing her, and by the look on his face he knew that he was too. She had no idea how to respond to him, or even how to obtain the words to answer his question.

“It was…” She hesitated, and he raised his eyebrows at her. Was he shocked that she seemed to have no words for him?

“Ground-breaking?” He wiped his mouth with his napkin one last time before placing it on the table and standing up, “Scandalous?” He took a step with each word that left his mouth, “Romantic?” Until he was stood directly in front of her, so close that she could almost feel his breath on her skin, “Sensual?”

YN stood planted to her spot, trying not to crack under Mr. Styles’ gaze but it was a little too difficult. She opened her mouth to speak, but she had no words. It was almost as though he could feel how nervous she was and knew exactly what strings to pull to make it worse. Her breathing was ragged, and she almost felt as though she was turning a little light-headed.

“Yes, sir.” YN nodded her head, swallowing to reduce the coarseness in her throat, “All of those things.”

“And how did it make you feel?”

YN looked down at her hands, and then back up to Mr. Styles. He had a devilish look in his eye, that same look that he had when she had seen him walking into his chambers with the Williamsons. It shook YN to her core, but she had to stand there and answer his questions, even if she didn’t have a single thought in her head that could help her with that.

“It made me feel,” She hesitated for a moment, but said the only word that was coming to her head, “Desire.”

It was the same word that she had mulled over last night when she had finished the book and closed it. After more thought last night, she not only had the desire to feel that with somebody, but the desire to read all the books like that she could. In her entire life she had never read anything which such a scandalous tone, but here she was with a desire for more.

“Desire,” He nodded his head with a smile, “That’s a good one. What did you feel desire for?”

YN cleared her throat, “A desire to read more.”

“Well, there’s a full bookcase of other books in the library for you to fulfil that desire,” He leant one of his hands upon the top of his chair next to him, “But what did you really feel desire for?”

YN felt stuck. In all honesty, she felt as though he could read every single thought that was whirring through her head – she hadn’t a single idea about how that could be possible.

“Mr. Styles I –”

“No, Miss. YLN, I want you to tell me exactly what you felt after reading the book.”

YN nodded, “I felt a desire to feel like that, to be –”

“Kissed like that?” YN nodded, “Touched like that?” Another nod.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

He nodded his head and looked her up and down, as though he was figuring out his next move. YN honestly felt as though she was trapped by him, and by the way that every hair on her body was standing up and her body felt as though it was on fire, she couldn’t decide whether she was enjoying herself or hating every moment.

“Miss. YLN, once you have finished your chores for the day, I’d like you to read the first book on the shelf, Sign of the times, and when you’re done, I’d like you to come and find me.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

“Good,” He turns to walk towards the door, “I’ll be in my office, and I do not want to be disturbed until you’ve finished the book.”

With that, he slams the door shut behind him.

It had taken YN just above an hour to finish all her chores, and once she had finished, she rushed to the library with the book in her hand to replace and ready to pick up the one that Mr. Styles had chosen for her. Once she had picked up the book and made her way towards the tree that Mr. Styles had found her reading beneath she sat down and started reading straightaway.

It was a tale of lavish lifestyle, complete with balls and luxury and husband in a manor which had an eye for his wife’s lady’s maid. It was becoming more and more obvious why Mr. Styles had asked her to read this book, and it was making her quite hot under the collar.

It was about halfway through the novel that YN was starting to feel so uncomfortable within her clothing. Her dress felt scratchy against her skin, and her corset felt too tight in all the wrong places. YN was truly captivated by a chapter that takes place within the husband’s office, with the lady’s maid sat upon the desk having only the most scandalous things done to her.

The feeling that she was talking about with Mr. Styles was back. For this book, however, it was certainly more of a desire to feel the way the lady’s maid felt in the book. Compared to the first one she read, there was something so real about this one. She didn’t know if it was because she had so much in common with the lady’s maid, or because the husband had so many characteristics that resembled her employer who was waiting for her to finish the book.

It took her a few hours to finish the book, but she had always been a fast reader and that really helped her do that. Once she had finished the book, and still felt hot under her collar and nervous bubbles in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the next conversation she was going to have.

It felt as though she was acting automatically, walking up the stairs and towards Mr. Styles office without actually telling herself to do so. It wasn’t until she was stood outside of his door, with her hand hovering over the door to knock that reality was kicking in.

With one deep breath, she knocked on the door twice and waited for Mr. Styles to call her in before opening the door.

“Finished already?” YN was surprised that he was the first one to talk, and she was also surprised about how much paper Mr. Styles had piled up on his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, come in and take a seat,” He motions to one of the empty seats in front of him, “And shut the door behind you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Under his intense stare, she felt as though everything else that was happening within the world didn’t matter. The way that he was looking at her, sat behind his grand desk in a suit that complemented his frame in a way that YN had never even thought of until reading those books. Whilst she hadn’t seen much similarity between the husband in the book and Mr. Styles, but the situation was becoming more and more like reality – especially now that she was sat within the walls of his office.

“Now, I want to know what you thought,” He says, leaning forward with his elbows on his table, “I want to know the truth, no trying to hide it.”

YN knew what he was doing, but the problem was that she had no idea how to describe how she was feeling to him without speaking so scandalously to her employer.

“Sir, it was… unlike anything I’ve ever read before,” YN couldn’t help herself. If he was going to ask her for the truth, then she was going to give it to him, “Both of the books were.”

“In a good way, I’m guessing?”

“I’m not too sure about that, Mr. Styles.”

He raised one of his eyebrows at her, “Is that so?”

“It’s just sir, I’ve never read anything like that before in my life and I hadn’t ever thought that a book could be so enjoyable and scandalous at the same time.”

Mr. Styles laughed; a full belly laugh that showed those dimples that YN only managed to see in a blue moon. There was no doubt in her mind that Mr. Styles was a handsome man, and that the books hadn’t sparked something in her that she hadn’t ever thought of before reading them. Every single time she watched the man run his hand through his hair, she wanted to be doing that exact thing whilst his head was in between her legs – just like the scene on the dining table in the first book. It was a scandalous thought, and it made her cheeks flush.

“I take it that you enjoyed it, then?” As scandalous as the book were, this conversation with her employer was seemingly more scandalous.

“Yes, I did sir.”

“What if I told you that I wrote them.”

YN felt as though she was shocked all the way to her core, “Sir, you –”

“I wrote them, yes,” He nodded his head, “I take it that this is a shock to you.”

“Just a little, sir.”

“Did you not wonder what I spent hours and hours doing with all of this paper every day?” He asked, as though he was sort plaguing her for her opinion on the matter.

“I did sir, but I never thought that – you were – doing…”

“That I was writing such scandalous things?”

“Well, yes.”

“Well, that is completely understandable,” YN nodded at his words, because it was very true, “I understand that it is such a shock for you, but without these books there is no house, and no job for you.”

“I completely understand that sir,” YN nodded, not wanting to push any buttons that could end with her losing her job.

“Good,” He nodded his head and tapped his finger on the table, “Now I have a proposition for you.”

YN’s eyes widened at his words, “For me.”

“Yes, there’s nobody else in the room is there?” YN laughed at his joke, even if it was at her expense, “I have a proposition for you to be my editor.”

“Your editor?”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” It could have been malicious, if it wasn’t for the smile on Mr. Styles’ face.

“No, sir.”

“Good,” He nods his head, “The main reason I am asking is that my editor has been indisposed and I have a deadline for my next book, and I know that you won’t be shocked by the content anymore.”

“Sir, I haven’t edited book before.”

“I know that,” He stands up and moves as he talks, before resting himself in front of her on his desk, “But it needs to be someone I can trust, and that I know won’t be scandalised by the content.”

“Sir, if I may, just because I have read the content doesn’t mean that I wasn’t scandalised by it.”

“Really?” This seemed to shock him, “So you were scandalised by the book.”

“I think it to be improper if I wasn’t scandalised, sir,” YN was truly shocked that he didn’t think that she would be. Did she come off as an improper girl? “The content you write, that was something that my mother told me was only between a man and a woman in the marital bed.”

He nodded his head, “You can always say no, and just continue to be my maid.”

“I never said that sir,” YN was maybe a little too enthusiastic with her response.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great,” He turned around and picked up a large pile of papers and passed it to her, “This is what I have so far, and I can give you a quill and some ink to edit.”

“Okay,” YN was trying her best to balance the papers that she had been given, “Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

YN and Mr. Styles had been working together for the past couple of weeks, with Mr. Styles writing chapters upon chapters and YN editing every single one until they were ready for publishing. They were about a quarter of the way through the book when Mr. Styles hit a block, and YN ended up sitting in his office whilst he paced around the room.

“I need it to be more… pleasurable, I need it to be about her,” YN was nodding her head, flicking through the paper that he had just written, “But I don’t want it to be too similar to the things that I’ve already done and written. I want it to be new.”

YN understood exactly what was being said, and as she was reading, she was trying to have some sort of ideas come to her as to what she could do. This was different to what she had read of Mr. Styles’ books before, and that was a few now. When she had started edited his books, she decided that she would read more just to see how he liked his books to be edited before they were published.

“What if she was the one to take control?”

Mr. Styles stopped his pacing and turned to look at her, “What?”

“Well, you said that you wanted it to be new, and about her,” YN repeated his words, placing the paper down on the desk and turning to look at him, “Why don’t you let her take control? Let her be the one to make the decisions. That hasn’t been shown in your work before.”

He nodded his head, as though he was coming to his senses with what she was saying. It wasn’t too much of a stretch, but Harry so far has written the majority of his characters where the male is the one to take the lead, why couldn’t the female? (YN knew exactly why in some of the cases the female didn’t, but it would be fun to try.)

“It’s a good idea,” He nods his head, finally sitting back down and stopping the pacing that was driving YN a little up the wall, “But I don’t know the perspective, I don’t know what a woman would say in that situation.”

If he was asking her opinion on this situation, then she had nothing to offer him. YN had never been in a situation even remotely close to the ones in his book – all she knew was the conversation she had with her mother when she was younger and everything that she had read within his books.

“Don’t you have any friends that you could possibly ask?”

“It isn’t exactly a conversation that you bring up over dinner, Miss. YLN,” There was a little maliciousness behind his voice, but YN had spent enough time with Mr. Styles over the past few weeks that she knew to take everything he said during his ‘creative process’ with a pinch of salt.

“What about the Williamsons?” A little timider now, but she had to ask, “Couldn’t you ask them?”

“They came to me with their problems, YN,” Mr. Styles explains, “They’ve been my friends for years, and they know what I do. They were having issues in that aspect of their relationship.”

That made a lot more sense now, and whilst YN hadn’t a clue what had gone on behind those closed doors weeks ago, she had a feeling that it maybe was and wasn’t what she was thinking all at once.

“I understand, Mr. Styles.”

He stood up again and started pacing and YN felt as though she was a second away from rolling her eyes, “Maybe you can help.”

“Mr. Styles,” Normally YN’s tone was shocked at his ideas, but this was a complete shock, “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious,” He stops right in front of her, leaning on the desk behind him with his arms crossed, “We don’t have to, but if you want to, you could help me.”

“And how could I do that?”

“YN, if we could get you to experience that pleasure and tell me exactly how you would take control and want that control to be portrayed.”

“But sir, how am I supposed to do that?”

“I would help,” Mr. Styles said, without any hesitancy, “I can help, if you’d like.”  

“Sir, thank you, but I just… I don’t know –” YN looked at him, looking at her as though she was his only option, “I’m sorry.”

Walking out of the room, YN didn’t know what to do. All of that desire she had been feeling to feel like the women in the books was laid out to her on the table, and she ran. She couldn’t say that she hadn’t imagined Mr. Styles in that way, but he was her employer and that would be drawing a line in a way that she hadn’t before.

Instead of Mr. Styles pacing around the room, it was YN. She was pacing around the entire house, cleaning everything that she could and doing everything that she could. By the time that Mr. Styles’ dinner was ready, she had placed it down and left the room before he had even gotten there, and she waited until he was done before going back to clean up.

Once the house had gone quiet, YN’s thoughts were whirring around in her head. She can’t help the heat that had coursed through her entire body at what Mr. Styles had offered all day. It was a little unbearable, to the point where she couldn’t lay still and couldn’t think about anything but his offer.

What would be the problem if she went through with it? He could fire her. She would be scandalised forever. But she didn’t have much going for her anyway, and she had given up the idea of marriage long ago. What if this was her last chance?

YN didn’t know the time, but it was late, and with a candle clutched in her hand she walked out of her room and upstairs. Her feet carried her towards Mr. Styles’ room. She thought that he would be long asleep, and she would be going right back downstairs but at the sight of the light flickering from underneath his door she knew that wasn’t the case.

“Mr Styles?” She knocked on the door, waiting to hear something before she came in, “Are you awake?”

YN heard shuffling from the other side of the door, before it swung open to reveal Mr. Styles stood there with only his trousers on, his suspenders laying vacant by his sides revealing his entire chest to YN. She couldn’t help her eyes wander down to his chest, and across his arms.

“Miss. YLN,” He seemed shocked, but there was also a bit of concern laced within his voice, “Is everything okay?”

“I was just thinking about what you said earlier… about what you offered,” She cleared her throat slightly, “And I would like to help you, if there’s truly no other option.”

“YN,” It was the first time that he had used her name since she joined him. YN didn’t even know what Mr. Styles’ first name was – he wrote his books under a pseudonym, “Are you sure that this is what you want?”

“I am,” She nodded her head, “I promise.”

That was all it took for Mr. Styles to lean forward, grasp her head between his hands and place his lips directly on hers. YN was a little shocked by it, seeing as though she had never been kissed before, but the second that his hands slipped into her hair that had dissipated. It didn’t take long for her to stumble into his room, where he moved his hands down her body until they were underneath her thighs.

“Jump,” YN did as he said, the words that she seemed to understand when he mumbled them against her lips.

With a swift move, Mr. Styles had his hands underneath her thighs and her legs wrapped around his waist. He pushed his door closed behind and walked her towards his bed. This wasn’t the first time that YN had been in Mr. Styles room but kissing him whilst having her legs wrapped around his waist in only her slip was certainly a different experience then cleaning the room.

Mr. Styles placed YN down on the bed with such ease and light touch that shocked YN if she was completely honest. She was nervous, and truly didn’t know what to expect from this but so far nothing was making her feel too scared.

“Are you still sure about this, YN?”

When he mumbled that against her lips, she didn’t know what to do so she just nodded her head and mumbled a, “Yes,” against his lips.

Mr. Styles’ soft lips removed from yours and started to move down the soft skin of her neck, and every once in a while, she could feel his teeth scratching against the skin and also his tongue grazing every once in a while.

He continued planting kisses down her body, across each part of her skin even over her slip. As he continued moving further down her body, he used his hands to push her slip up. It was almost as though he was asking permission to push it further up and reveal herself to him. With one quick nod of her head, he was doing just that, pushing it up until he was face to face with her. It was the first time that anybody had seen her pussy, and there was no time in her brain for her to be scandalised by the thought.

“Are you okay up there?” He asked, moving his hands lightly up and down her thighs.

“Yes, sir,” She nodded her head, “Just… I’ve never felt like this before.”

“I know you haven’t,” He smiles and places a few kisses along the soft skin of her thighs, “I’m going to start now.”

It only started at first with a soft kiss around where YN needed it the most. It felt as though your entire body was going to combust at any moment, and that Mr. Styles certainly knew what he was doing as she was completely dripping for him. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had dripped right onto the bed beneath him.

Within one blink of her eyes, he was kissing directly on her clit. It was a sensation that she’d never felt before, and she didn’t know whether she’d feel it again. He then moves from kissing to licking right up and down her slit, collecting her arousal before bringing it up to circle her sensitive clit.

“Oh, Mr Styles!”

“Harry,” He mumbles against her, sending shivers all the way down her spine, “M’names Harry, say my name.”

“Harry!” It was the first time that he had told her his name, and now that she knew it, she didn’t know if she would every stop saying it.

He smiles against her before continuing to pleasure her. The feeling of his tongue against her pussy had her almost panting. The fact that he knew how to add the exact pressure onto her clit that have her squirming and moaning his name was unbeknownst to her, but he did. Every small sound that she made had him grinning against her, and he must have been enjoying himself them.

He changes from rhymical laps to her clit to teasing it with the tip of his tongue. It was only when he started to gently suck on it that she started to feel a tightening in her stomach. YN’s legs started to shake, and her breath got caught in her throat.

Harry can tell that YN is getting closer and closer, and knowing that he brings fingers under his mouth until he can sink one of them inside of her. It was almost instantly that she started clenching around his finger. YN immediately reaches out and grabs the blanket that screwed up on the bed behind her. When Harry notices, he immediately reaches out his free hand for her to take – which she does with a lasting squeeze. The intimacy of holding Harry’s hand whilst he does this to her is something that she’ll never forget. The squeeze that YN has on his hand is something that keeps her feeling slightly grounded even though she feels as though she’s truly only a second away from exploding.

Harry pushes another finger inside of her and starts to thrust them in and out of her pussy, coaxing something from the pit of her stomach that she had never felt before in her life. It was as though YN could see stars, and as though she could feel everything on her body more and more. YN can feel just how firm his tongue is, every ridge of it and how warm it is. The feeling to YN was indescribable to her, but yet she had read a scene within one of Harry’s own books that describes it. The only thing that YN could say is that the books definitely do not do the feelings justice.

“Harry…” YN started to squeeze his hand tighter, as she was worked closer and closer to a point that she had never felt before, “Harry, its –”

“I know, love,” He mumbles against her, “Just feel it.”

Seconds later, YN does just that. The feeling of her orgasm on Harry’s fingers and tongue was something that had her mouth opening, her eyes falling shut and her back arching. He doesn’t stop as she reaches that point, he continues working his fingers and his tongue and bringing her past that point.

Once she was coming down from her high, he doesn’t stop his fingers all together just slows them down until she pushes him away due to the sensitivity that she was feeling. He laughed and moved further up until he could kiss her again. Her entire body felt numb, but the second she felt his lips on hers she was brought back down to reality and to the feeling of what had just happened.

Once her breathing calmed down, Harry dropped beside on her on the bed on his back. His chest seemingly seemed back to normal as well. YN didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t even know what to think. For some reason, not knowing what to do she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Mr. Styles said, and she could hear the smile on his face.

“Nothing, Mr. Styles.”

“What did I say?” She turns to look at him, and he looks at her too, “My names Harry.”

“Nothing, Harry.”

“You’re cooking something up in that head of yours.”

“No,” YN shakes her head, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

The only sound that can be heard is YN’s laughter as Harry starts to kiss her neck again.  

YN had spent the last week or so splitting her time up between cleaning and cooking, editing what Mr. Styles was writing and laying between the sheets of Mr. Styles’ bed. It certainly wasn’t a conventional way of living, but YN had never been happier. It was the same for Harry, YN thought. In the few months that she had been with Mr. Styles, she hadn’t seen him as happy as he was now.

Before, he normally kept himself hidden within his office, only ever coming out when it was absolutely necessary that he did. But now, he was always coming out of his office to find her, kissing her and touching her in ways that she craved for more.

The first time that they had sex was a few days ago now, and YN hadn’t wanted to stop. They had been doing it all over the house, in the kitchen, on Harry’s desk, on the dining table and even on the stairs (even though YN would never admit it.) There was even the one time that they did it under the tree that YN had become very fond of in the course of her employment, and Mr. Towers walked around the corner and received the shock of his life. YN didn’t speak to Harry for a few hours, but when he started to attack her neck whilst she was making his dinner, she had no choice but to talk to him.

YN had been planning this for the past day now, and now that he was working in his office, she saw it as the perfect opportunity. It was taking a lot of courage for her to do this, but she knew that she had to do it – for the sake of the book that was.

YN walked up the stairs towards Mr. Styles’ office with purpose, and when she reached his door, she didn’t knock she just walked in. He was sat at his desk (like he always was) with a piece of paper in his hands, obviously reading through something that he had written. At the disturbance of YN walking in, he looked up and at the sight of her just in her slip he couldn’t help the smile at her.

“Is it night-time already?” Unable to stop himself from poking at least a little fun at her.

“No, it’s not,” YN shut the door behind her and started making her way towards him at his desk, “But it is time for something.”

“What is it time for?” He leant back in his chair, allowing for space for her to drop down onto her knees in front of him.

“Do you remember when you first proposed this?” He nodded his head, pretending not to be distracted by her hands working the button on his trousers, “Do you remember what you didn’t know? And what you wanted to know?”

He nodded his head, not being able to think of anything to say as she wrapped her hand around him.

“How would a woman take control?” She teased, running her finger across his tip, “What she would do? And what she would say?”

He moved his hands down, attempting to thread them through her hair.

She tutted and shook her head, “No. Hands by your side.”

He did what she asked, and she decided to finally stop teasing him. She started by just a few kitten lips to his tip, before placing her whole mouth around him. His eyes fluttered shut as she started to take more and more of him in her mouth. Her other hand was cupping his balls, massaging them gently.

“Fuck, YN,” The explicit word just slips out of his mouth, his body completely overridden by the pleasure he was feeling, “You feel so good.”

His hands were gripping the side of the chair he was sat in, so hard that his knuckles were turning white. His breathing was becoming more and more shallow, and she knew exactly what was coming next. This caused her to pull away and for him to moan at the loss of her lips around him.

“Not yet,” She shakes her head and stands up, pulling up her slip until she was bare for him. There were few things that could get her dripping like Harry does, “I didn’t say you could, did I?”

“YN!” His hands come to grasp her hips as she stands up, straddling his waist and lining herself up with him. He watches down between them in anticipation as she sinks down onto him. One of her hands lifts up to grasp her neck, squeezing lightly as she leans down to kiss him. Once he was comfortably inside of her, she started to grind her lips on him.

“Jesus, YN,” He whispered against her lips.

“Feel good?”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out of his lips are another moan. YN continues to lift her hips and drops them back down on him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulders as she does so.

“Do you want to touch me, Harry?” She asks, leaning forward to catch his ear between her teeth.

“Please,” Harry almost begs her to let him touch her, all he wanted to do was touch her and take over.

“Well, I have not decided that you can yet,” YN continues to bounce, leaning back slightly. Her breasts bounce as she moves, and Harry wants to do nothing more than to reach out and touch or take them between his lips.

“YN,” Harry whines, “Please let me touch you, please let me kiss you. Let me take control.”

“No, did you not hear me?” YN continued to bounce up and down, bringing the both of them closer and closer, “You wanted it from my perspective, and that is what you’re getting.”

Harry felt as though he was going to combust. The waves of pleasure were coursing through his body, and he felt as though he was going to tipped over the edge at any second. YN knew that she wasn’t going to have to make him wait much longer, as she was already feeling her own peak closing in on her.

“Are you close, Harry?”

“Yes,” He leans forward to capture her lips on his again, “Please, are you darling?”

“I am.”

“Don’t stop, darling.”

“I am not going to stop, Harry, don’t worry.”

The second YN reaches her peak, Harry does too, and he spills inside of her. YN takes one look at him, with his eyes closed and his head tipped back, hair all over. YN couldn’t help but smile at him, pushing his hair back off his face. Once he opens his eyes he has the biggest grin on his face, and YN can’t help but kiss it off him.

“Was that, okay?” YN mumbles against his lips, and he grins again.

“Okay?” He laughs and pulls her closer, “That was more than okay.”

One Year Later

“YN!” The door slammed shut not that long after the call of her name. She had been sat in the parlour, curled up with a book but at the sound of Harry entering the house. He had left earlier that morning to go into the city centre and YN hadn’t been expecting him back for a while, so she was shocked when he walked through the door.

“In here!” She closed the book that she was reading (not one of Harry’s which may come as a shock).

Harry came bursting through the door of the parlour with the biggest grin on his face that YN had ever seen. He was obviously hiding something behind his back, and YN was positive that she knew what that was.

“It’s ready!” Harry exclaimed, showing her that it was a book that he had been concealing behind his back, “After one long year it’s finally done!”

He walked towards her and sat down next to her on the lounger, passing the book to her so that she could see. Once she had the emerald, green covered book with the gold lettering with the title and the name in gold embossed lettering, YN honestly felt as though she could cry. They had put blood, sweat and tears into for over the past year. But then again, lately anything was making her cry.

“Oh, Harry,” Her eyes did start to water up as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling him closer to her chest, “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” He places a kiss against her cheek, and she leans into his touch, “I want you to open it. Look on the inside.”

YN opened to the first page, where she saw that there was a dedication page.

To the person that showed me what Desire is,

this is for you, my Mrs. Scott.

“Oh, Harry,” That was it, the tears had truly started to fall down YN’s cheeks now and there was no stopping them, “I love it.”

“I know that it’s a shame that we couldn’t write Mrs. Styles, but for the sake of the book you are my Mrs. Scott.”

“And you’re my Mr. Scott.”

YN closed the book and turned her head, pouting her lips for a kiss from her husband. He obviously obliged, not wanting to upset his wife.

“And soon we’ll have our baby Scott,” Harry smiled against her lips, moving his hand so that it was laid across her protruding stomach.

The pregnancy hadn’t been a shock to either of them, especially since they hadn’t been careful before they got married, but even more so when they did get married, seeing as though the scandalous part of their relationship had gone.

The most shocking thing that happened was the night that they finished the book completely, it was all written and ready to be sent off and Harry got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. YN was more shocked than she could believe to the point where she pinched herself because she didn’t believe it was true. YN never thought that she would even know anyone that she could even see spending the rest of her life with, but Harry was that.

It was a little stressful at first for YN to leave maid mode and move into wife mode but once she fell pregnant it became easier. They also hired a new maid, Dahlia, who came from a very similar situation to YN herself, but she was nice enough and did her job as well as they would like her too.

The thought of Harry even looking at Dahlia the way he had looked at YN hadn’t even crossed her mind. The only way that YN could describe Harry since they were married, and even more so when they found out that she was pregnant was that he was completely and utterly armoured by her.

“This baby is a Styles, Mr. Styles,” YN rolled her eyes at his comment, to which he laughed at her, “This baby isn’t going anywhere near the books.”

“That is true,” He nods his head and placed another kiss on her cheek, “You’re right Mrs. Styles.”

“Have you not noticed that I am rarely wrong?” He laughed and kissed her cheek again.

Even though their relationship came about in a very unconventional (and very scandalous way), YN had never, ever been happier and she had Harry to thank for that – and she would for the rest of her life.

[crossyourmindrights]

Balance In Grace Masterlist

Posts with * are smut

Up, Up, and Away

For all chapters of Up, Up, and Away, please visit the multi-chapter masterlist here

Waves

For all chapters of Waves, please visit the multi-chapter masterlist here

Waves Universe One Shots

-Hills of St. Helena*

-What I Did On My Summer Vacation*

-Spooked

-Holidazed

Joe x Reader Originals

-Surly Bird

-Up In Smoke

-Froot Loops

-The Crawl*

-Over.

-Drop-Red Gorgeous*

-High and Bye*

-Marked Up*

-The Secret Garden*

-Interception Connection*

-Upset-Me-Not*

-Shrug Life*

-Alpine For You*

-Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word*

-Hotter Than July*

-Arm in Arm*

-Fight Night*

-Signing Day*

-Sweet, Then Sour*

-Short Stuff*

-Sunday with Joe*

-That Damn Hat*

-Back Home In Tiger Stadium*

-On The Road Again

-Hands On*

Prompts

-At your lover’s complaining, running a spot where they ache

-You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend

-I just want to have a good time, I don’t need your jealousy all night

-Hey, look at me. I’m yours and no one can change that

-Gentle wipe of your spilled tears

-Opening up about personal details

-On a whim, pulling your lover into an alley and pressing your lips firmly against theirs

-Hooking a thumb in your lover’s belt loop/pocket

-You look good with my hands around your throat*

-I brought two sandwiches…by accident, of course

-Reaching for each other in your sleep

-Have I already told you how cute you look?

-When I said I wanted everyone to leave me alone, i didn’t mean you

-Undressing each other

-Smoothing your hand down your lover’s tie

-Tracing invisible shapes on your lover’s skin

-Unflinchingly settling your head into your lover’s lap while they watch television/are reading a book/doing their favorite hobby

-You know you can kiss me

-You never have to fear that you are losing me

-I’ve been thinking about you all day 

-What would make you happiest right now?

-Be a doll and do a spin for me

-Baby I could do this all day*

-Not accepting that it’s time to start the day, and pinning them onto the mattress with either your whole body, a leg, or more risqué touches*

-C'mere, I don’t mind letting you sleep on me

-Very softly placing butterfly kisses on your lover’s skin

-Shh, you don’t want the others to hear, do you*

-After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch

-Softly resting a hand on your lover’s shoulder

-You can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself*

-What’s the matter, love? you get nervous when i look at you like this?*

-Cry all you want… i’m starting to think you’re enjoying this*

-Good girl—that’s a good fucking girl*

-Aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until i’m satisfied*

Requests

-Sick Joe

-Post Game Blurb 10/23

-Joe and Ja'Marr go to yoga

-Cheating Joe

-Stadium Fight Joe

-Grumpy Face Joe*

-Injured Joe *

-Jealous Bar Joe

-Angry wedding Joe part 2/proposal fight

-FaceTime Joe*

-LSU softball player x Joe

-Eye roll Joe*

-Joe x International Reader

-Dad Joe 

-Dad Joe Two

-Dad Joe Three

-Dad Joe Four

-Dad Joe Five

-Dad Joe Six (Father’s Day)

-Dad Joe Seven

-Dad Joe Eight

-Fluffy cuddly Joe

-Calling Joe out for liking IG pics*

-Massages with Joe

-Joe takes care of you when you’re sick

-Protective Joe when you’re pregnant

-Joe making love*

-Househunting with Joe

-Touchy morning Joe*

-Drunk handsy Joe

-Post-Superbowl Joe

-Workout video Joe*

-Jealous Joe

-Angry wedding Joe*

Here are some prompts for you guys to request from; had to pull these off due to the link limit (you can also send your own ideas in!)

© 2023 Balance in Grace 

[crossyourmindrights]

where you belong (m) ||. joe burrow

pairings: frat boy joe burrow x reader

words: 9.1k

warnings: cursing, smut, enemies to lovers?, fluff, shitty ending, a whole lotta nasty shit

MINORS DNI!

description: the aftermath of part one

A/N: I really didn't know how to end this type of fuckery and it shows lmao, hope yall like it though

Usually waking up for you would be a simple task, whether it's because you're in a rush to class or simply because you like to be prepared for the day. However this time it felt different, so much more different. The first thing you noticed was the sound of a lawnmower going off in the distance, and the smell of grass, something you couldn't experience in your leveled apartment. The second thing you notice is that you were completely naked with the exception of a large t-shirt, a dull ache in your temple, and thirdly you could hear someone softly snoring behind you.

Memories of last night came to you in a bit of a haze, but you still could make out what happened, and feel it as well. The soreness you felt in your lower stomach, told you exactly what had transpired. Though that didn't make you panic, what did was the person. Peeling your eyes open, you caught sight of sports memorabilia hanging on the wall along with a weird poster of the movie Pootie Tang, without even looking you knew who was lying behind you sleeping peacefully without a care in the world. 

You lay there, heart skipping a beat as you process the memories of last night flushing through your brain. Gavin, you and Joe faking dating,  you getting pissed drunk dancing in front of everyone, Spongebob, a confession from joe?

You stop thinking after that, Joe had confessed to liking you, but was it guaranteed, or was it just the alcohol talking?. Something in you really hoped it wasn't the latter, but you weren't going to stay and found out either.  Turning your head around to face Joe cautiously knowing he could wake up any time soon.

You were met with him sleeping on his stomach, face mushed against a pillow, while his arm was thrown around your waist, and just as you were about to remove his arm, his body began to stir. Immediately you snapped your eyes shut and made your body go limp, certainly not ready for that awkward after sex morning talk.

Joe woke up, eyes feeling drowsy, but his mood didn't, not after what had transpired last night. He thought that it had been too good to be true, thinking it was many of the dreams he had prior to you. But when he caught sight of you sleeping from his stomach fluttering, last night shortly after you fell asleep, he took the initiative to dress you in his t-shirt. And you looked damn good wearing it as you lay beside him "asleep".

As you lay there heart beating fast, you felt his hands brush a stray hair from your eyebrow, then you felt the feeling of the bed shift indicating Joe moving out of the bed. A loud yawn escapes his mouth and the sound of bones cracking makes you open your eyes and peek, the sight you saw made you flustered entirely.

Joe stood there in low-hanging sweatpants with deep pink scratches littered on his chest, as he stretched his arms above his head. He started to turn his head in your direction causing you to quickly shut your eyes.  Not a second later you felt a peck on your forehead, what was with all this affection? You were certain he didn't mean what he said last night right? It's not like you wanted it to be not true, you just wanted to save yourself from the embarrassment when you get that awkward "I was drunk last night, didn't mean any of it" talk.

His feet padded along the carpet floor as he heads towards the connected bathroom, after you hear the soft shut of the door and the sound of piss hitting the toilet water was when you opened your eyes, the sun poured through the window hitting you right in the face which leads to you scrunching up your face, the sound of the toilet flushing could be heard before the sound of the shower going off.

Quickly as your aching body could, you hopped off the bed and looked around for your discarded clothing every step after pulling off the t-shirt Joe had put on you. It still felt as if he was plunging deep into you. While you were busy scattering around the semi-messy room, your eyes caught a glimpse of yourself. Standing in front of a body mirror that was planted on the back of his bathroom door, you see how fucked out you really looked. Bite marks littered on top of your breasts and alongside your neck.

There was absolutely no chance those could be hidden, no amount of makeup could pull it off without it looking weird. You stood there taking in your horrid appearance, dried mascara was smudged underneath your puffy eyes, the only thing that was somewhat decent was your hair. It was still in a curly messy high ponytail, a sore sensation was felt on your ass causing you to turn around to view it in the mirror, your mouth dropped wide open at the sight of a large handprint on both cheeks. Memories of Joe slapping your ass hard every time he thrust while you held on to him desperately, made their way into your mind.

You could feel yourself getting turned on by the memory, and had the strong urge to walk in that bathroom and have him rail you in the shower in multiple positions. However, you just didn't know if you could face him right now, especially knowing that last night could've been a one-time thing. Ignoring your horny thoughts you quickly gathered your clothes, which only consists of your underwear and sweatpants. 

You had no idea where the hell your sweatshirt went, so you dug into one of the dressers and stole one of Joe's which was a looney tunez tye-dye sweater. As you limped and walked towards the door, a flash of guilt ran through, should you leave? Without saying anything? You felt like a total fuck girl bolting after she got what she wanted, but isn't that what Joe would want anyway? Better for you to leave on your own terms rather than for him to tell you to fuck off.

Without looking, taking another glance back you made your exit, after shutting his door you could hear a sharp gasp coming from behind you. Turning around fast you came face to face with Alexis who stood there with her mouth wide open in shock. From the looks of it, she was also making her exit, with her car keys in hand.

"You scared me," You chuckled nervously, trying to appear normal. But what was so normal about you sneaking out of who you thought was your sworn enemy's room? Nothing at all, and you could see in Alexis's face as she made the connection.

"Oh my god, I knew it-" She shrieked quite loudly, you rushed over and placed a hand over her mouth not wanting to alert anyone, certainly not Joe who could very well be making his way out of the shower.

"Shh! you think you could give me a ride home?" You asked, removing your hand.

She nodded still in shock. "Yes, but only if you give me the details on what happened on the way there."

You should've known this was coming, but didn't refuse. "Okay, fine." As you both walked out of the house Alexis took note of your limp and laughed out loud. "Damn, he did a number on you."

You felt flustered as you slid into the passenger seat, slight wincing at your sore backside. "Shut up Alexis."

She chuckled, turning the ignition, before backing out the driveway, a sense of relief filled you.

"So I'm assuming all that screaming last night wasn't from you and Joe fighting?" Alexis broke the silence, cutting her eye over to you.

Hiding your face in your hands, trying to shield your shame. "Please tell me you and Ja'marr didn't hear us last night."

"If I did that'll be a total lie," She chuckled, stopping at a red light, before laughing again in glee. " We also heard that bed going through it girl."

You tried to ignore her words by fidgeting with your phone, which was dead, hoping it'll be brought back to life and help you escape this riveting conversation.

"I can't believe this," You said, feeling mixed emotions about the entire ordeal. On one hand, you felt that maybe you should've stayed and talked about what happened with Joe, However, on the other, you felt somewhat dense in believing that Joe would even give you a second glance after last night, he got what he wanted right? you were now in the "I fell for joe burrow's spell" club. 

A club you desperately tried to avoid.

Alexis seems to take note of your conflicted feelings asking," Do you regret it?"

"No, I didn't." As much as you wanted to immediately say yes, you couldn't because lord knows that last night was the best fuck you've ever had.

It was silent in the car for a moment before Alexis sent you a sky look. " So, how was it?"

You let out a deep sigh, one that sounded dreamy as if you were reminiscing about Joe making you cum three times last night, which you were. No amount of words can describe what you felt,

"Damn! That good huh? Bitch he left you speechless." Alexis laughed in disbelief.

"Just know at some point I couldn't figure out my name." You chuckled as she squealed.

"Ah! So how did all this happen? Because the last time I saw yall were ready to slice each other's throats, then suddenly you were fucking like rabbits." Alexis blurts out.

You let out a deep breath before telling it all, going from seeing Gavin and his girlfriend, to pretending to fake a date. All while you were explaining Alexis listened closely, chiming in with a comment from here and there.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

It's been three weeks since you've seen or heard from Joe. Mostly because you were avoiding the hell out of him , whenever you'd see him wandering around campus your legs would go on autopilot to turn the other way.  Or whenever you were conversing with Ja'marr on the phone, and just so happened to hear a glimpse of his voice you'd make a wacky excuse to end the call.

You recognize your actions are somewhat immature or cowardly, it seems when Alexis dropped you off at your apartment is when reality struck you with a semi truck. How is it going to be when you see him again? Awkward for sure, there was doubt he   would even acknowledge you.

You figured it'll be better off cutting him completely off, and it seems Joe was fine with that because he remains unbothered by your actions , however he was watching, on social media whenever you'd post on your insta story or feed he'd be the first person to like or see it.

He's never done that before, you don't even know when he started following you.

Given how you both acted towards one another before that night, being friends on social media wasn't something you two thought much about. Nevertheless though you followed him back, which is the only interaction you've had since you bailed.

In the midst of things, midterms were coming up causing a strike of fear in your heart. To avoid all-night cram sessions, you made a set schedule. Which consists of going to the college library everyday for at least an hour, indulging in reviewing  many lecture notes and assignments.

You were currently sitting in front of your laptop in the almost empty library, it was a Saturday , and majority minds weren't on anything school related, instead more likely preparing for the next big party that was happening. You envied those who were able to seem careless and decide to throw their troubles for one night and party. It wasn't a terrific idea but , boy sitting here alone was boring and somewhat depressing. Ja'marr and Alexis were out on a date, so you couldn't hang with them. 

You started to lose interest in studying due to the lack of fun you were having from it.

Standing up for the fifth time in the last thirty minutes, you walked down the aisle passing the half asleep librarian heading for the vending machine by the entrance, you pondered for a moment before deciding on a stick of bubble gum and skittles for later. You walked back to your seat focusing on opening the pack of gum,

"You are such a nerd, it's nauseating." His voice to you by surprise, you almost choked on your gum. Sitting in your seat in all his glory was Joe freaking Burrow smirking up at you.

"Joe, what are you doing here?" You breathed looking at him with wide eyes.

He sat there looking up at you with a glimmer in his eyes, like he was eager to talk with you. Which came to a surprise, you would've thought after you fled without saying a word he would hold some resentment or just downright ignore you all together like you been doing with him. But alas, here he was shamelessly gazing upon you up and down.

"You've been avoiding me? Why?" He said locking his eye with yours. His tone sounded serious and the question sounded more like a statement. The last thing you'd expect is him wanting the answers on why you were staying away. You thought he would go back to his old ways of treating you, only ten times worse. But no, the hateful eye he'll usually give you were was replaced with something completely opposite.

"I haven't, just been busy." That was half a lie, you truly were busy with school.

"Alright, I'll give you that." He nodded to himself, unconvincingly. " So answer this then, why'd you leave?"

Your tongue toyed with inside of your cheek as you thought of an excuse, nothing seem to come to mind.

"Get out my seat." You said, dodging the question. Joe took notice, and let out a small laugh.

"That was totally a me move, only it was harsher because I would've stayed, basking in the after sex glow and possibly go for another round or two before I make my exit." He said the last part with a cocky smirk, though his tone was smug, deep down he really wanted answers.

He had the idea of you staying would give him the opportunity for him to talk about a possible relationship, with his confession, him now knowing you never hated him, and the night you had together something has to take off from there right? He thought about it before when he was deep inside you, watching your beautiful features contort into pleasure, he thought it whenever you and him were around each other . You are the girl for him, and only him.

"Fine, if you won't move then I will. Goodbye." You said closing off your laptop and grabbing your textbooks scurried off towards the exit.

Joe cursed underneath his breath befoee getting up and following you out the library, he was a few feet in back has you fast walked trying to get to your destination which was your apartment. He could easily catch up to you, but for just a moment he'd taken in the sight before him which was your ass fitting well in that fabulously tight mini skirt. Every step you took caused your ass to shake, he stared in awe mouth practically salivating at the memory of his very own hand gifting it a few wacks.

"Damn," He said outloud not caring if you heard or not.

Apparently you did, because you looked over your shoulder catching him in the act. "Really?"

He threw his hands in the air, acting innocent. "It looked at me first."

"Why are you following me?" You sighed, exiting out the main door of the library, the cool spring air whipped across your face.

"Why did you leave?" He shot back after nodding at a few people who greeted him as they walk past.

"And you care because? You got what you wanted, I wasn't going to wait for you to kick me out." You said turning around to face him,

A flash of hurt appeared on his face, which you didn't miss. His little pout and the way his eyebrow furrowed made you feel a little guilty but what you said was true, knowing your true feelings for him it would've crushed you for him to kick you to aside like the others.

"Is that all you think I want from you?" He asked in disbelief. "There isn't a day where I don't think about you, just the thought of you makes me crazy, its so fucking scary because I've never felt like this before. Even before that night I spent with you"

Joe would've never thought in a million years he would have this conversation with a girl, he wasn't used to sharing his feelings with someone at all, when it came to real emotion he kept it all in always telling people he wasn't a "relationship type of guy" which wasn't true at all. No one knew this but Joe has always been a hopeless romantic deep inside, and when he saw you he felt like his time has come. Although you were at each other's throats majority of the time as toxic as it sounds his devotion grew for you more each time.

You were standing there in shock as the words slip past his lips, feeling deja vu from the night he confessed. So he actually was serious? You thought, feeling absolutely relieved

"Look I know ever since you met me I can be bit of a-" He paused trying to think of the right word,

You decided to cut in to help him out. "Slut? Egotistical maniac? A manipulating dick who benefits from himself?"

"Ouch, that's what you think huh?" He put a hand over his heart faking as if he was hurt. Which he was a little, hearing those words come out your mouth made him mentally wince.

"Thats what I tried to think of you, but I know your much more than that." You told him , his face dropped even more. Quickly you assured him." In a good way!"

He smiled and looked at the ground before look at you again. "That's good to know, because I definitely can to show you I'm more than those things."

"And how are you going to do that?"

Joe took a deep breath preparing himself for what he's never asked a girl for a while. "Go on a date with me?"

Your stomach swirled with excitement along with a dash of nervousness. You never thought this moment would come, it felt so surreal several months of you two battling didn't seem like this would ever happen.

"Sorry I can't," You said sheepishly,

He felt as if his heart dropped down to his stomach, his shoulders slumped down as he looked at the ground, not having the courage to look you in the eye.

"Joe, I'm kidding." You smiled when he looked up at your playful expression. " I would love to go on a date with you."

He let out a sigh of relief, before laughing. "Okay i see, that's how you do me?

"I couldn't help it, the opportunity was right there." You laughed as he shove you lightly. You stumbled a little still laughing, while looking back to see if anyone's behind you. Afterall you two were literally standing in the middle of campus, with students pouring in from left or right.

"Thanks for that," He sarcastically said, pretending to be mad when in reality he was glad that you made the little joke it destroyed the nervousness he was feeling prior.

"You're welcome," You smiled along with him, rocking on the heels of your feet.

Joe opened his mouth to say something when his phone buzzed in his pocket, it was one of his fraternity friends, they had been supposed to meet up at the gym around 2:30 he was half an hour late.

"Shit, I have to go," He cursed after texting a quick lie stating that traffic was bad.

"Okay." You said feeling a little disappointed he had to go, when ironically he was the one you were running away from thirty minutes ago.

He stepped closer to you, to the point you can smell his striking cologne. With his pointer finger and thumb he grasped your chin, titling your head upward. "Hey, tomorrow at five I'll pick you up, yeah?"

You nodded, looking at his memorizing features, few strands of hair fell down his forehead.

The crinkled by his eyes appeared as he grinned, before leaning down and pressing his warm lips against your forehead. By now your stomach was doing backflips, you were already a sucker for forehead kisses even more now that its Joe giving one to you.

Disappointedly he pulled away, followed by a simple. "See you tomorrow."

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day rolled around faster than you could've ever imagined and the butterflies in your stomach seem to grow more as time went flying so quick that it was already four thirty. You had thirty minutes to get ready, and you still couldn't pick out an outfit.

"Okay how about this one?" You said holding up a black sheer mini dress.

"Babe, didn't he say casual ?" Alexis asked with amusement.

Due to your current crisis, you decided to facetime Alexis, needing another girls opinion was a given right now.

"He did," You sighed dropping the dress in the pile of clothes, you walked back into your closet digging some more, leaving Alexis propped up against your desk.

"Make it casual but sexy at the same time!" Alexis shouted from the phone.

You kept that in mind once again searching for the right fit, after a few minutes you finally come across a simple black corset top that showed off your stomach and gave your boobs an extra push. You remembering buying it specifically to please your ex Gavin, he never got to see it and you were glad because the fucker didn't deserve to see you in it.

You mentally thanked him though, if he would've never showed up at that party, this date probably wouldn't even happen due to how stubborn you and Joe were going to be.

Grabbing a pair of high waist ripped jeans, you slipped them on along with the top. You also grabbed your all white low air force ones.

"Okay, what do you think?" You asked stepping out in your full outfit, giving Alexis a 360 twirl.

A high whistle came from her as she looked over your outfit carefully. "You look fucking hot, the ass and boobs are on ten."

"It's not too much?" You asked fiddling with the top.

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Would you stop worrying? Joe is going to lose his mind when he sees you."

You smiled at the mention of his name. "I still can't believe this is happening."

After all those months of bickering to the point of it was almost an instinct to fight whenever you see each other, a part of your brain still couldn't process it.

"I can," Alexis scoffed. "You two were a walking cliche of the enemies to lovers trope."

"It does seem like that huh?" You thought about it for a second, with Joe being the typical frat football player that everyone knows and you being the closed off top scholar, it did give off the impression of being the typical cliché.

You talked with Alexis for another couple minutes before a text from Joe popped up stating that he's on his way, accidentally a squeal escaped from you as the nerves spiked up again.

"Whats wrong?" Alexis said when she heard your squealing.

"He said that he's on his way, I'm freaking out." You told her.

She chuckled in amusement. " Would you calm down? Just three weeks ago he was in your guts, I'm pretty sure you'll be fine."

"Thats the thing Lex what if thats all he sees me as? Someone who is just a good fuck." It could be possible, after this date he realize how boring you are and want nothing to do with you.

"So you're saying he asked you out on this date because he's pussy-whipped?" She raised her eyebrows.

You shrugged your shoulders.

"So him confessing he likes you right before you two hooked up, was him being pussy-whipped as well?" Alexis pointed out.

You paused thinking it over, how could he be pussy-whipped without getting a taste of it first?

"That's what I thought, you're overthinking it too much, just have fun and relax yourself." She assured.

Have fun and relax yourself, you chanted mentally as you made your way towards the door of your apartment where a knock could be heard. After you got off the phone with Alexis, almost immediately Joe texted his arrival, you assumed you'll meet him in the lobby however he surprise the hell out of you when he asked for your apartment number.

After fiddling with your hair, and outfit once more you took a deep breath and opened the door revealing Joe standing there dressed in a white t-shirt underneath a space jam logo jacket accompanied by his signature Cartier glasses. You couldn't help but to gawk over him, another thing he never disappoint with was his sense of style.

While you were fawning over him, he was also doing the same thing with you.

Joe licked his bottom lip, his icy blue eyes that were hidden behind his dark shades couldn't help but to take notice the way your top clung closely to your chest, before ending right above your navel giving a sneak peek at your complextioned stomach.

He cleared his throat , forcing his eyes to stray away before they could traveled down to the jeans you wore which clung to your thighs like a second skin. "You look beautiful, as always."

A familiar tension were brought upon with you taking in each other's appearance.

"Thanks, you look pretty good yourself." You pressed your lips together hiding a smile, it was so clear that he was nervous just as you. His body language tells it all, the constant lip licking, and the way his body swayed slightly. If you hadn't known who he was, you would've guessed this was his first date.

He gave a small shrug. " I try, ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

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Joe has never done this before, the closest to a date he's ever been on was when his mom arranged a date with her friend's daughter to the movies which ended up being a makeout session for half of the time they were there. He's never taken a girl out seriously, so he was a bit frightened, so frightened that he called up his mom for advice. She knew about you of course due to Joe's constant talk of admiration of you. His mom was excited that he finally asked you out, and even more exciting when he called to for any advice letting her know that he was taking this serious than he's ever done.

He wasn't trying to be the man he was before, he wants to change and be a better person for you. The careless fratboy life isn't the lifestyle he wants, football and you is what he truly desire, and it was time to start focusing on that.

"Joe come skate with me!" You exclaimed gliding effortlessly to where he was standing behind the skating barrier.

Instead of taking you out where its settled like a dinner date or the movies, he took you to a indoor amusement park, and you couldn't be more happy it was less nerve-wracking, with all the arcade games you've play so far broke the ice.

"Uh, me and skaing don't get along very well." He shook his head, not looking you in the eye.

You noticed immediately, and grinned. "Is that so? Or is it because you've never tried?"

"I don't need to try it, to know that we'll never get along." He taking a sip from his bottled water, truth is he's scared shitless.

"Well, you've tried me, and I'd say we're getting along." You pointed out, watching his eyes widened at your statement.

"What did you just say?" He asked smiling, eventhough he surely heard you loud and clear.

"Nothinggg." You said in a sing song tone, twirling around on your skates before facing him again. "I said let me teach you how to skate."

"Absolutely not, coach will be on my ass if I break something out there." He stubbornly denies.

You let out a scoff. "You honestly think I'm going to let that happen? I'll right there guiding you, please try it?"

Joe made the mistake of looking into your pleading eyes, and reluctantly agreed. He looked around the arcade noticing it was majority families, and teenagers. Sighing in relief that he didn't notice any students from college to witness him bust his ass.

When he first stood up in the skates he felt utterly ridiculous as he tried to regain balance after nearly falling on face, however you were there guiding him taking both of his hands.

"You want some knee pads and a helmet as well?" You teased, carefully leading him with both hands while occasionally looking back making sure you weren't going to crash into someone.

"Ha,ha, very funny." He rolled his eyes, causing you to laugh.

"All seriousness though, your kinda getting the hang of it." You said watching his feet glide.

"Thank- wait what are you doing?!" He exclaimed his voice full of panic when you let one of his hands go.

"Relax, Joey." You laughed holding his right hand gliding along beside him and keeping up his pace which was a slow one but you didn't care.

Once he finally got his rhythm , his confidence sky rocketed and soon you two were gliding in the rink weaving through people gleefully hand to hand. After a while you got tired and rolled back to your table which sat directly behind the roller rink.

As you sat down with Joe following suit, you decided to say what was on your mind.

"I'm sorry I left that morning," Joe's head shot up to look at you from untying his shoes. "I thought you didn't actually mean what you had said that night, and that if I had stayed you've told me straight that you didn't actually feel that way towards me."

Joe listened to your words carefully, processing them that would explain you avoiding him. You were scared of him basically rejecting you? It wasn't a surprise you would think that given your relationship prior to that night

"No need to apologize, I just hope you feel the same the way I do for you." He smiled grasping from across the table.

"Of course I do, been liking you for you for a while actually." You laughed to yourself.

"Look at us now, who what've thought?" Joe said looking at your joined hands.

It felt surreal and he was loving every second of it.

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Hours past and you both left the arcade with smiling faces after playing just about every game. You drove around the city for a bit enjoying each other's company, you didn't want this night to end and you could tell Joe felt the same way. Which is why when you arrived at your apartment, you both didn't say goodbye yet instead continued to talk and laugh while the music of your playlist blared in the background.

"I'm going to be honest here," He paused, you looked at him expectantly. "I don't want you to go."

"Really? Because I don't wanna leave."

His face lit up with a sweet smile, making his eyes crinkle. "I'm assuming you enjoyed yourself then?"

"You assume right."

After a few more minutes of the two of you continue to talk without having an ounce of awkward silence, it started to getting really late and you knew you couldn't stay there forever as much as you wanted to.

However after you said your goodbyes, and on your way heading towards your apartment. You could practically feel Joe's eyes telling you to come back, which you did.

Bending down to lean against the passenger window your eyes met Joe's.

"Would you like to come inside?"

Walking ahead with your hand grasping his as you guided him down the hall toward your apartment, Joe felt like a kid in a candy store whether your intentions were sexual or not he's glad that the night hasn't ended with you.

When he entered the doorway, he came to the realization that he's actually never been in your apartment, there was an attempt once, when Ja'marr came to visit you, he tried to tag along walking through the door only to be stopped by you firing a insult. In the end it had you two bickering back in forth in the doorway until ja'marr broke it off.

Oh how times have changed he thought.

He took this opportunity to briefly look around, admiring how artistic and vibrant it is, which he loved, a home with personality.

"Welcome to my humble abode." You said after closing the door, following him towards the living room.

"I like it," He compliments, eyes looking over at the framed arts on the wall, before glancing over at the glass yin yang shape table thats placed in front of the terlingua sand sofa. " I'm going have to steal that by the way"

You snorted, sitting down in your cozy swivel chair while Joe took a seat across from you on the sofa. Your eyes couldn't help but to go towards his long muscles legs thats spreaded so casually. That simple act already had your mind going, and you felt bad how dirty your mind is. He wasn't even doing any thing sexual for christ sake!

Needing a cool down, you stood up from your chair. "I'm going to head in the kitchen, you want anything to drink?"

Joe took notice of your flustered state, and immediately knew what was up, he dealt with many girls to know what they were feeling.

"C'mere for a second." He motioned with his head, aftera few minutes of silence Joe couldn't help his mind moving to all the things he wanted to do to you.

Your legs were on autopilot, making their way in his direction. Just when you were going to sit down beside him, Joe tugged you by the waist onto his lap , causing you to sit sideways lower back digging in the arm of the sofa while your legs dangle over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a tremor in your voice, looking into his dark shades blue eyes full of sudden lust.

"You were far away," He states, fingers skimming over your knee which was exposed through your ripped jeans. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes" You said , he nodded as his other hand thats wrapped around your shoulders traveled down your arms rubbing it softly, more likely feeling the goosebumps that appeared. It felt like the more he touched you, your body become warm and everything hypersensitive.

You watched his hand that was now toying with with a loose string of your jeans, in slight awe staring at his prominent veins before moving up to his thick foream all the way to his neck.

Joe already staring at you intensely when you met his eye, he could feel the heat radiating off your body. His mind flashing back when he held you close while pumping in and out, as melodic moans fell from your lips.

A warm flood of hunger went through him, as a sense of craving and anticipation for him to be inside of you again. He could feel his face becoming hot,

He removed his hand from your lap, and placed in on your cheek rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. Closing your eyes, you relish in the warmth of his palm. Joe leaned forward pressing his forehead against yours. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Please do." You said opening your eyes, to meet his.

Thats when Joe broke. He grasp the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. The fulfillment you felt when his warm tongue slip past your lips made the bottom pit of your stomach flutter. He could smell the sweetness of you fragrance, that cause his mind to go cloudy. Joe wrapped a strong arm across your abdomen, enjoying the feeling of your tongue massaging his.

Your mouths continued to move in sync, at some point Joe gently sucked and bit your bottom lip pulling it between his teeth slowly, it was the hottest thing you've ever experienced while kissing someone . You grew bold and placed trailed your kiss down to the crook of his neck, sucking and biting no doubt leaving fresh red markings.

Joe sigh in delight feeling your lips move against his skin, he took the time to feel you up, going from your chest all the way down between your legs giving your mound a generous massage. Your hips buck at his sudden movements

"Joe." You moan out breathlessly, your head still buried in the crook of his neck. His movements came to a halt and just as you were about to complain he stood up after hooking his arm under your knees, holding you in bridal style.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asked walking towards the hall.

You told him where, he entered carrying you towards your bed, the red tapestry lightning enrich the mood. You flopped down on the decorative pillows thats littered on your bed, letting out a squeal.

Joe stood at the end of the bed, watching you kicking off your shoes before maneuvering yourself in a kneel position right in front of him. He placed a hand on your stomach pushing you back down on your back, before grabbing your ankles and yanking you down towards him. The feeling of wanting is apparent as you let him manhandle you in the most hottest way.

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans before roughly yanking them down, causing yet another squeal to leave your lips. You were now left in just your underwear and top, watching him looking you up and down. His eyes held a sultry gaze as he took in your appearance, as if he had seen it for the first time. The strap of your corset top fell down your shoulder, giving him more of a clear view of the swell of your breast. His mind focused back when you sat up resting both knees on the bed in front of him once again.

His mouth met with yours once again, fingers threading through his freshly cut hair tugging it slightly, before traveling to his chest all the way down to his button of his jeans. Undoing it quickly before slipping your hand inside his briefs, Joe broke the kiss letting out a groan relishing the warmth your hand provided.

You took hold of his member feeling it hot and swollen, a drop of precum forming at the tip. Every part of you tingled as you desperately wanted a taste. Trailing kisses down his clothed chest, with both hands pushing his underwear down along with his jeans, his dick sprang free in full length. Your mouth watered at the captivating sight, he was blessed with both thickness and length. Without giving it a second thought you ran your tongue alongside smooth and slightly veiny skin.

Joe breathing was getting heavier when he took the sight of you bending down at your own will, his fantasies about you were coming alive once again.

On all fours, you stared up at him with greedy eyes, he had the bottom of his shirt in between his teeth giving you a special view of his well groomed torso while looking down at you with his hand rubbing over your head. He was eager to watch you go to work on him, but instead of going for his dick your mouth made contact towards the balls, taking him by surprise.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned his words were slightly muffled due to him still holding the t-shirt.

You ran your tongue over his scrotum before pursing your lips sucking gently on the skin. Joe's hand unknowingly tighten around your hair, while his eyes rolled back towards his head the feeling completely different from anything he's ever experienced, and he has alot of experiences.

Moans after moans along with curses fell from his lips, as you continued to suck and lick on his balls with no dick contact, it was truly remarkable and the sounds that were coming out of his mouth were left unrestrained. He couldn't think of any girl giving him this much pleasure from giving him a blow job, and you didn't even get to his dick yet....

You spent minutes just sucking and licking without getting any attention towards his length, mouth feeling like magic against him creating the most sensational pleasure he's ever experienced.

What seem like forever, you finally moved some attention towards his awaiting length. Wrapping your lips around the tip, Joe lets out a pleased hum both of his hands now cupping on either side of your head, glancing down into your eyes. He wasn't going to guide you, he felt it was necessary to let you do the work,

Holding eye contact, you sent a sly wink his way before slowly sliding down inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. The noise Joe made was absolutely filthy and hot, your jaw almost pushed past its limit, you inhaled through your nose steadily to prepare to take him even further, which you did.

"What the fu—, Goddamn,fuck!" He groaned almost im disbelief, Joe is very much aware of his size and can actually admit that he's encountered girls who opted out, fearing he wouldn't fit.

You held one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as his hips involuntarily buck causing tears to well in your eyes. Relieving your breathing, you eased him out of your throat slowly before taking your other hand twisting it up and down around his wet length.

"Joe," You said breathlessly, feeling yourself clenching around nothingness as you look at the state of him.

Head tossed back, eyebrows furrowed, the t-shirt still in between his teeth, he looked to be in utter bliss. It made you feel prideful in being the cause of him being so vulnerable.

Chest heaving he glanced down at the sound of his name. God you looked beautiful.

"Fuck my face."

His eyes widened at your request—no order, oh you are so brave to let him take control.

"Are you sure?" He asked, rubbing both thumbs beanth your eyes staining them with ruined mascara.

"More than sure," You stared up at him eagerly.

The neediness in your eyes were enough for him to take off his shirt tossing it aside before repositioning his hand on either side of your face pushing his hips forward into your awaiting mouth.

His deliberate, hard strokes as he pushes your head forward while his hiring move wildly, you realize you weren't sucking his dick, you were being fucked in the most delicious way. The willingness come from your end make it super sensual and just overall a complete turn on knowing that you like to be handled this way by him.

You sputter and gagged barley holding yourself together but didn't let it up, enjoying the way his swollen dick thumping against the back of your throat.

Thirty five seconds of rapid fucking pause, he pulled his length out a string of saliva from the head streamed out.

"You okay beautiful?" He asks, you couldn't speak throat already badly aching, so you nodded as you took quick gasps of breaths despite your throat hurting you weren't in the mood to stop.

He plunges back in quick, his thrust were faster, letting him fuck your mouth like a rag doll gave you shivers as more wetness seep out of you causing your inner thighs become slick.

Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, as Joe kept up his erotic movements. The sounds of squelching and Joe's rough grunts were the only sound could be heard in your room, maybe even thought your apartment.

"Just like that, thats it." He chanted as you held your tongue tight and slick against the underside of him. You could feel his dick pulsing and you could just tell he was close to cumming.

Your hand tapped his thigh, he immediately stopped his movements, then you pulled away soon replacing your mouth with your hand grabbing the base twisting it up and down rapidly, while holding out your tongue.

"Oh damn, you're unreal, fuck! I love you!" He sputtered out, you could feel his body tense getting lost in the moment. A second later his body relaxes then you felt multiple warm spurts hit your tongue some of it catching the corner of your mouth, you continued to milk him dry until he stopped your motions.

You pulled your tongue back into your mouth swallowing majority of his load, silently watching him recover from what felt like his soul leaving his body.

Feeling quite smug and fairly confident you decided to tease him a little, cocking your head to the side and pulling yourself up back to leaning on your knees, meeting him at eye level you sent him a smirk. "You love me huh?"

Joe uncharacteristically felt sheepish at his choice of words, he couldn't stop it from escaping. With his thumb he swipe residue from your the corner of your mouth mumbling a small "shut up."

With no hesitation your wrapped your mouth around his thumb licking it off, while Joe watched your every move letting out a "Fuck".

Suddenly he grabbed at you ass kneading it, the act made you let out a moan. Your heart rate quicken when he then grasp your underwear, ripping it apart with only a few tugs, tossing the shattered fabric on the floor.

The wetness between your thighs was still present, dying for any kind of attention.

After taking off the rest of his jeans, he pushed you on your back climbing over you on the bed situating his body between your thighs, as hands explores your body squeezing your breasts which was still covered by your top, trailing down to roam your hip bone and thighs before finally settling in between your legs.

You squirm and moan when his fingers met with your soaking slit, adding pressure when his two finger began to move up and down stimulating your most sensitive part. Joe pupils dilated gazing down at you withering body when his finger began to pick up speed and ultimately entering his middle and ring finger in you seeping hole.

Spreading your thighs further apart, as you titled your hips up and grasping at his forearm, his thick fingers stretched your flesh as he dip in and out.

"Goddamn you're soaking baby." He said fascinated by the sound your pussy was making and the sight of it ozing out essence.

You wanted to respond to him, but couldn't find the words due to his fingers now curling inside you hitting the familiar spongey part that made you see stars.

Thighs trembling as you clenched around his digits, nearly making it impossible for him to move. The rapid movements towards your gspot nearly wiped you out.

Joe couldn't keep his eyes off you falling apart beneath him, eyes rolling back, one hand clenches the sheets while the other stays on his forearms searching for some stability.

In the mist of his fingers moving inside you his thumb grazed over your now engorged and swollen clit. You shut your eyes tightly not having the power to keep them open what you were currently feeling was something new, something extremely different.

Blindly you reach out to grab his free hand placing it at the column of your neck, completely lost in the pleasure. You moan out feeling him give your neck a generous squeeze.

Suddenly you feel an unfamiliar pressure build up, it was a complex different feeling than you typical orgasm, this was something that was deep and it had you in a daze. Body temperature rising from between your legs to your stomach, and legs.

"J-joe I'm—" You were in disbelief at the new feeling, and Joe was completely oblivious as he leaned down to capture yours lips with his, proceeding to stimulate your clit and caress the spot inside you.

A soft tremor in the inside of your thighs and the urge to release was what you felt before a gush of liquid squirted out of you making a complete mess, your legs shook as you let out the loudest scream, mind going blank for a few seconds.

Joe departed the kiss in shock, to glance down to where his hand was currently wet along with his lower half.

After coming down from your intense high, you opened your eyes in realization what you did. Never in your days you've actually squirted, you vaguely remember Gavin trying to achieve the accomplishment only to fail horribly. And now here you were covered in your juices, honestly you weren't that suprise given who you were dealing with right now

"That was fucking hot." Joe licked his lips, pulling out his fingers causing you to hiss.

Your chest rapidly falling and rising when you gave him a shy smile, one of your hand covering the half of your face. Joe chuckled at your bashfulness before taking the hand away from your face and giving it a kiss.

"Are you ready for more?" He asks, nowhere near done.

"Yes, please." You replied , feeling already fucked out despite him not being actually inside you.

"Turn around for me, beautiful." He said watch you with lust filled eyes, after seeing you squirt he was determined to have you do it again.

You flipped over having your knees to hold you up, feeling Joe getting situated behind you, gripping your hips more in a more upright position. You couldn't help but to lean against his touch when his hands roamed over your back all the way down to your ass giving it a gentle squeeze. A sharp gasp left your mouth when he roughly planted a harsh smack on one cheek, you should've known that was coming.

His fingers then reached to unzip your corset top in the back, the straps immediately fell down your arms as your boob were released. Excitement pulsed through you when you felt him rub the tip up and down at your soaking entrance, face buried in the pillow preparing for whats to come.

Joe lined himself in your entrance before pushing himself with ease due to your previous orgasm. A shudder racked through your body at the feeling of him filling you completely, eyes rolled back once more. He stood still for a second letting out a low grunt, at the sensation of your wetness he's currently buried in.

One hand on your hip, while the other gripped your shoulder he began moving thrusting in and out, causing you to let out a sweet cry. Tears were back once again welling up, as his hips continued to smack against yours.

His grip was tight around your shoulders and hips, as his control of speed and depth of penatration grew faster and harder.

"Fuck, right there baby!" You shriek feeling him hit your g-spot.

"Right here?" He gave a specific hard thrust, which made you almost lose your mind softly batting your hands on the bed before gripping the sheets tightly.

"Yes! Yes, oh mygod." You called out, the most desperate and filthy noises left your mouth that would put any pornstar to shame.

Joe finally let go of your shoulder, only to swing his arm around your throat creating a form of headlock, he uses his arm to pull you upright bringing your body entirely closer to him. His lips were by your ear as he kept you in place, swiftly biting your neck while using his free hand to play with your sensitive clit.

No words could formulate, you were completely and utterly dazed as he fucked the living daylight out of you. He watched your head lolled against his arm that was encircled around your neck, feeling yet another deep sensation this one more intense.

You let out countless of whimpers at the feeling, lip turning into a small pout. Joe took notice of your frantic state and pressed a kiss on your cheek mumbling. "I know, I know, it's okay baby just relax."

His hand that was on your clit moved up to rub at your tummy soothingly, applying the right pressure on your lower abdomen which ultimately made you gush out once again spurts of juices going everywhere a huge rush of exhaustion and pleasure pulsed through your veins. Seeing you squirt yet again was what brought Joe to his high letting out a particular loud shout, hips moving against upwards gradually riding out his orgasm, before he officially came down.

Pressing a kiss on the side of your temple, he slowly letting out a hiss slipped out of you causing his cum to run down your leg. Feeling absolutely exhausted you collapse forward on your stomach, hugging a pillow close, your legs were still shaky hard and jaw clenched.

Joe ran a hand through his wet sweaty hair, as he took in your state, even more torn up than the last session you had.

"It's okay beautiful, c'mere." He laid on his side pulling you in front of him so that he was spooning.

"Joe, i have to go change these sheets." You mumbled in protest, yet not making any move. Your limbs felt entirely limp.

He let's out a chuckle. "I don't think your in the position to do that, we'll get to it later."

You hummed closing your eyes, sleep was non avoidable at this point. "If I go to sleep you're not going to run out on me are you?"

"Never, that's your thing." He teased, you playfully nudged with your elbow.

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[crossyourmindrights]

Balance In Grace Masterlist

Posts with * are smut

Up, Up, and Away

For all chapters of Up, Up, and Away, please visit the multi-chapter masterlist here

Waves

For all chapters of Waves, please visit the multi-chapter masterlist here

Waves Universe One Shots

-Hills of St. Helena*

-What I Did On My Summer Vacation*

-Spooked

-Holidazed

Joe x Reader Originals

-Up In Smoke

-Froot Loops

-The Crawl*

-Over.

-Drop-Red Gorgeous*

-High and Bye*

-Marked Up*

-The Secret Garden*

-Interception Connection*

-Upset-Me-Not*

-Shrug Life*

-Alpine For You*

-Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word*

-Hotter Than July*

-Arm in Arm*

-Fight Night*

-Signing Day*

-Sweet, Then Sour*

-Short Stuff*

-Sunday with Joe*

-That Damn Hat*

-Back Home In Tiger Stadium*

-On The Road Again

-Hands On*

Prompts

-At your lover’s complaining, running a spot where they ache

-You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend

-I just want to have a good time, I don’t need your jealousy all night

-Hey, look at me. I’m yours and no one can change that

-Gentle wipe of your spilled tears

-Opening up about personal details

-On a whim, pulling your lover into an alley and pressing your lips firmly against theirs

-Hooking a thumb in your lover’s belt loop/pocket

-You look good with my hands around your throat*

-I brought two sandwiches…by accident, of course

-Reaching for each other in your sleep

-Have I already told you how cute you look?

-When I said I wanted everyone to leave me alone, i didn’t mean you

-Undressing each other

-Smoothing your hand down your lover’s tie

-Tracing invisible shapes on your lover’s skin

-Unflinchingly settling your head into your lover’s lap while they watch television/are reading a book/doing their favorite hobby

-You know you can kiss me

-You never have to fear that you are losing me

-I’ve been thinking about you all day 

-What would make you happiest right now?

-Be a doll and do a spin for me

-Baby I could do this all day*

-Not accepting that it’s time to start the day, and pinning them onto the mattress with either your whole body, a leg, or more risqué touches*

-C'mere, I don’t mind letting you sleep on me

-Very softly placing butterfly kisses on your lover’s skin

-Shh, you don’t want the others to hear, do you*

-After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch

-Softly resting a hand on your lover’s shoulder

-You can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself*

-What’s the matter, love? you get nervous when i look at you like this?*

-Cry all you want… i’m starting to think you’re enjoying this*

-Good girl—that’s a good fucking girl*

-Aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until i’m satisfied*

Requests

-Sick Joe

-Post Game Blurb 10/23

-Joe and Ja'Marr go to yoga

-Cheating Joe

-Stadium Fight Joe

-Grumpy Face Joe*

-Injured Joe *

-Jealous Bar Joe

-Angry wedding Joe part 2/proposal fight

-FaceTime Joe*

-LSU softball player x Joe

-Eye roll Joe*

-Joe x International Reader

-Dad Joe 

-Dad Joe Two

-Dad Joe Three

-Dad Joe Four

-Dad Joe Five

-Dad Joe Six (Father’s Day)

-Dad Joe Seven

-Dad Joe Eight

-Fluffy cuddly Joe

-Calling Joe out for liking IG pics*

-Massages with Joe

-Joe takes care of you when you’re sick

-Protective Joe when you’re pregnant

-Joe making love*

-Househunting with Joe

-Touchy morning Joe*

-Drunk handsy Joe

-Post-Superbowl Joe

-Workout video Joe*

-Jealous Joe

-Angry wedding Joe*

Here are some prompts for you guys to request from; had to pull these off due to the link limit (you can also send your own ideas in!)

© 2022 Balance in Grace